Category: Positive Parenting

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Under Cover History

We’re not the kind of unschool family who doesn’t have any rules about bed time. I try to get my sons in bed at a reasonable hour whether we are home or on the road. That said, if they wish to quietly read, I will usually fall asleep before they do. One of my greatest joys is to get up in the night and see them passed out in their books with the lights still on.

Books are everywhere in our lives. It’s not just a messy obsession, it’s my intention to surround them with the resources they crave when curiosity strikes. When I straightened the sheets at the end of my younger son’s bed, I had to capture what I found.

The graphic novel editions of Moby Dick and Treasure Island are key tools in how I introduce my children to classic literature. When language is challenging, they have these images to help them through difficult vocabulary. Skyscrapers is from when I was curious about a college course that didn’t fit into the “plan” I was supposed to be following. Another failure on the part of institutionalized education that brought me to the learning lifestyle. The essential oils guide is our latest acquisition as we explore plant-based holistic health and apply our curiosity in a most valuable way. Paddington connects me to my youth visiting England and embracing those stories as part of my heritage (as well as my English, non-author, great-uncle Michael Bond). The Little Prince is an oddly wonderful library book that both sons are working through. Sniglets has been mine for ages and I don’t know why. The action hero guide has also followed me for years and is a garden for feeding their imaginative play.

These moments remind me why I have this crazy assembly of texts. They remind me of the car repair manuals, Calvin and Hobbes collections, and Joseph Campbell books I dove into as a child looking for the secrets of the adult world. They remind me why I make extra space in our lives for reading and don’t dictate when, what, nor how it is done (although library books at muddy campsites set my teeth gnashing).

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Solo Dadding at Mountain Jam

This one was intimidating. Assumptions had crept in as I planned and envisioned our spring and summer adventures. I expected to have more support, a co-parent, to teamwork on grand excursions. I thought things might be getting easier. After 16 months of having my parental assumptions repeatedly blown up one would think that I should be used to this; or better yet, that I would give up on assumptions and the future. But I can be a slow learner.

Cap the dissolving of expectations with waves of grief and a busy unschool schedule, and I wasn’t feeling up to the task of four nights of festival camping. Especially since this music festival, Mountain Jam in Bethel, New York, would feature bands that had significant ties to memories of my late wife, Mary.

Screw all that. I have slept in tents since I was an infant, attended day-long festivals since I was a preteen, survived the riots of Woodstock ’99, logged thousands of hours alone on the road with my sons, and honed my situational intuitions over those many hours. I set my back straight and climbed into our Dodge Caravan with confidence.

The road smoothed and eased before us. The trip was shorter than expected. Somewhat miraculously, an online friend spotted us as we drove by her camp site and hollered. The rain came down and the van got stuck in the mud, but, with help, we got the tent up and had ourselves set for the first night of music before sundown. We continued to find the right people at the right times. Friendly staff and volunteers, helpful young people, generous vendors, fun and engaging performers, and very special families made for easy going days and nights.

Above all, I was reminded of how good my sons are at this. They made friends, charmed adults, and carved their own unique experience out of the weekend’s offerings. For my own part, I simplified personal obligations and expectations, enjoyed as much music as I could consume, and let myself have a whole lot of fun. We stayed up late, danced and played recklessly, and took care of business when circumstances called for it.

I came away from the weekend with my shoulders back and my head high. Our story seems impossible, I saw that in many faces as I told it to new friends, but there is an immense power in mastering an impossible task. Or just in taking it on and failing, as I have many times.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Birthday Excursions

My sons lost their mother shortly before their birthdays. I opted for a combined party as Mary was the party planner and I was nearly overwhelmed with new duties. It was a great success as the boys share many friends and homeschooling has allowed us to easily form bonds with entire families.

Everyone was very generous in their gift giving, but it was too much for me. Too much for the boys as well, they’ve hardly been through everything in a year.

This year they were more enthusiastic than I expected in trading a party for more outings with friends and bigger adventures with Dad.

I watch my younger run through the streets of Detroit in a robe with friends and I am grateful for our wandering spirits. We’re different and God has handed us a different life. My sons embrace that better than I do and I am blessed to have them as examples.

Have a God blessed adventure today,

Jason

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Goodbye, Plan A

Over the last 24 hours virtually every planned activity was cancelled or changed. Most Plan B’s bit the dust as well. I finger-pointed, fussed, and generally acted like Fate’s victim, for a while.

Last night we ended up in Bellevue State Park for a full moon hike that cleared our heads and lead to easy sleep. Today, Delaware snow and unforeseen confusions wiped out all our plans, but we ended up on top of a hill in Brandywine Creek State Park for a short afternoon of sledding before the rain came.

Two of those sleds were rescued from the trash; the tube was given to us by a friendly family we camped next to in Asheville, North Carolina; one hat came from Aunt Ann; another from Cousin Marley; and my niece is wearing my late wife’s snow pants. One picture tells the messy story of hand-me-downs, gifts, and adventures that compose our big, beautiful life.


It’s hard to be grateful when things don’t seem to be going your way. I fought off my confusion today to see more clearly, to understand that things are going to work out, to know that I’ve come pretty far from where I was.

God bless,
Jason

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2018: The Year I Lost My Wife and The Mother of My Sons

It could be that easy to define my 2018, but that’s not how it went. Mary started to get sick at the end of January and spent six days in the hospital before passing into the hands of God on February 12th. Miracles began before she left this Earth: from the maturity and bravery of her 6- and 8-year-old boys to say, “I love you” before she passed, to her holding on until friends and family from all over were able to come and do the same, to the peace that God brought me before her final moments, and to the connection with an eternal love that she left me.

That connection is a super power. Paperwork, memorial planning, giving her eulogy in front of hundreds of people, spending that same night alone with my boys…it all just came to me.

That connection remains unbroken, but doesn’t shield me from my own brokenness. In fact, it’s given me the courage to face my broken parts. That is how I might define my 2018: The Year I Faced My Darkest Parts. I’ve found strength by diving into my weaknesses. I’ve found love by embracing my fears and spending real time exploring them. I’ve started to find myself through a lot of muck piled up inside.

I don’t know why God took Mary, but I’m certain both of them would want me to continue to grow, learn, search, lead, and, most importantly, love.

God bless,
Jason

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Owning Up

On July 27th, 2018, I had a few beers with neighbor friends as our children played together. The night went longer than it should have and I had more to drink than I should have. My sons gave me a hard time as I tried to bring them home for the night, only a short walk away. I lost my temper immediately and threw our house keys into the darkness, telling them they’d be sleeping outside if they didn’t find them. Finally, with keys recovered, we got home and continued to bicker, with me becoming more belligerent. Over some perceived slight I went into a complete rage and smashed a chair on the floor repeatedly, screaming for their attention. I succeeded in the clear goal of terrifying them. They were screaming in fear and I shut myself in my room. After a couple weeks of really struggling as a single parent and increasingly losing control of my drinking, I lied in bed and stormed with confusion until I fell asleep.

My boys woke me a short time later, “Dad, the police are here.”

I don’t know why I was calm. I don’t know why I felt sober. I don’t know why I was able to quell their concerns so quickly. Maybe I know exactly why: I could have lost my children that night.

I went on to be angry at the neighbor who called, the police, and finally myself. I was too embarrassed to share the full truth. I slowly started to work on myself, a job I thought could be carried out privately. I was wrong. Not until I started sharing my worst stories and deepest fears was I able to get my hands around them and start to understand. Three months later I stopped drinking completely. A couple weeks after that I publicly dedicated myself to becoming a better parent. I’ve found people who listen to and challenge me. I’ve lost a lot of that anger.

And even with all that I had put this story away. The Orange Rhino Challenge had called me to reveal it weeks ago, but I chickened out. Then my elder son told the story of that night to new friends in front of me. I was immediately defensive and felt the embarrassment again. I was able to look at it more clearly this time and see how many things I had done wrong leading up to that night. Not sharing that story was a lingering mistake in the way of my self betterment.

God bless,
Jason

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More Love

“Oh, where oh where can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She’s gone to heaven, so I got to be good.”
-Last Kiss, Wayne Cochran

No, that’s not the way I look at things, but I have found a lot of reasons to be better since I lost my baby. The most effective reason has been for myself. When I increase my effectiveness in the world, I can provide more for those I love most. It’s a driving passion for me to be the most positive force I can be in the world and multiply the love that Mary and I felt for each other. Focusing on positivity in my parenting and all other relationships has gone hand-in-hand with a personal mission of self discovery and self improvement. It’s driven me into great challenges and eye-opening revelations about how I can find and produce more love.

God bless,
Jason

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Road Trip Rhythms

When five-hour road trips turn into ten-hour slogs, a minivan full of six people can get tricky. When those six people have never traveled together, the hazards can be greater. Repeat that pattern two days in a row? Tricky can turn to sticky.

Somehow we managed. Two families with young children on the road for nearly twenty hours in two days. There was screen time, quiet time, reading, singing, games, drawing, fighting, talking, snacking, laughing, eye-spying, lots of stops, and a bit more fighting. No secrets, just constant trying. It’s been my go-to strategy: when nothing works, try something new, or something old again.

God bless,
Jason

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Orange Rhino Operational Pause

After a couple exhausting, yet almost entirely positive, couple of days I’m ready to pause on my positive parenting regimen. I’m going on another road trip adventure and my partner in crime has proposed to engage the challenge together after the trip and the holidays.

This will not be a pause on my aim to be a better dad. I could hardly take a break from that if I wanted it. Rather, this will be a time to put ideas and strategies into practice and be most present for my children and loved ones during Christmas.

God bless,
Jason

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A Good Day

God was holding my hand today. From the homeless child who climbed into my arms before the sun was up, to the niece who made helping that child possible, to finding the perfect gift for my son, to surviving an excursion to the mall without spending a dime, to trusting a new friend to extend ever more grace, to being given another chance to help those in need, and to finish the day by meeting a widow and sharing our awful stories and our as-yet-unformed dreams. 

For all the mistakes I can’t stop mulling over, God delivered a wave of successes to drag them out to sea today. He was telling me that I’m doing things right, that my mistakes will not break my trajectory, and that I’m aimed in the correct direction.

I worked through the exhaustion and self-doubt today to create positive solutions and alternatives everywhere I went.

I can’t wait to see what I can accomplish after a good night’s sleep.

God bless,
Jason