Quick thoughts

Some quick observations on how my girls are growing up:

• Olivia has stopped taking naps.  With the exception of days like yesterday, where she had been sick and not sleeping well and extremely moody, we've mostly given up on trying to get her to take a nap.  Most of the time she would just sing and play anyway.
• During this sick, irritable time, I crossed Olivia in some way (something about not obeying her every command) and when she started to get upset I told her to come over to me so I could talk to her.  Instead, with sad crying all the way, she trudged up the stairs, went into her room, and closed the door.  I felt like I had crossed another threshold to real parenthood.
• Carmen has started to be quite the crawler (and taking after her father, quite the destroying angel).  Yesterday she was just being generally excited about life, doing the baby pant/grunt, so I got down and crawled at her doing the same noise.  She thought it was great and would crawl away a few steps then sit and wait for me to come at her again.  Baby's first I'm Gunna Gitchoo, I guess.
  

What happened to Jennifer?

Apparently Google has updated the "Next Blog" feature on Blogger blogs to match content.  I started on a blog of a young couple with two kids, and it sent me on a seemingly endless tour of generic young couples with one or two kids.  It was only mildly voyeuristically interesting until I started noticing the names these people were giving to their children -- actually, let me be more specific -- giving to their girls.  Most of the boys had standard names.

When I started to notice it, I went back in my browser and wrote down the names of all the female children I ran into.  Some of them were pretty normal:

• Kaitlin
• Ava
• Emma
• Abby
• Julia
• Madeline
• Nadia

Some were uncommon, but not unheard of:

• Adelaide
• Talia
• Shana
• Regan
• Maddox

And then there were the people who thought it would be a good idea to name their daughters these names (the last two are siblings):

• Avalon
• Finley
• Seven
• Iza
• Buzzy
• Paisley
• Soluna
• Averyana
• Chantilly
• Soleil
• Forest

How would you like to be a kindergarten teacher when all these babies/toddlers start coming to class?  Is there a correlation between blogging and naming girls weird things, or is this a valid sampling of the rising generation?

My replacements

This blog post idea has been sitting in my drafts for a couple months waiting for me to finish it. Perhaps that is for the better, though, because with the recent passing of my father, it's relevance has increased significantly.

Occasionally as I look at my perfect children I think to myself, "It's not really fair that they are so well off when so many others aren't."  They were born to two loving parents.  We are well-educated and actively involved in their learning and they obviously got some of the smart genes.  They have a mom who can stay at home with them.  They live in a nation with a high standard of living, and relative peace and security.  They live in a household that teaches righteous principles for happy living.

I think all those things and I feel a little bit guilty, because there are many children that get the short end of the stick in life.  Somewhere out there are my girls' opposites, slow kids born to a drug-addicted single mom in a poor, war-torn, amoral country.  But then I realized that it's not so unfair after all, because some day I will die.

From a purely biological standpoint, we prolong our own life indefinitely by reproducing, by replacing ourselves.  Some day I will die, and much like my material possessions and genetic information, all the intangible elements of my life -- my intelligence, my faith, my choice of where to live -- will be passed on to those who replace me, my children.  It's no random accident that my children are growing up in the good situation they are; they are the combination of generations and generations of individuals improving their own lives.  I am a continuation of those who fought to found a nation based on individual liberty, who came to this country and became pioneers, a continuation of my dad who served a mission and went to college, and I have built on that foundation to provide a good life that I will pass on to my replacements.

I have some of the skills, knowledge, and opportunities that my father developed and worked for.  No one would begrudge him those assets in life, and it doesn't seem unfair that as his replacement, the continuation of his life, I would have them too.  Children in unfortunate situations are generally continuing the unfortunate lives, whether inherited or self-created, of their parents.  We should help people, obviously, whenever possible, but we shouldn't feel guilty for picking up the lives of our ancestors where they left off, nor should we feel too proud of a life of which we are only a small fraction.

My dad

I called my parents on Friday, Dec 4th, and my dad answered the phone. I asked him to get mom so I could gloat that we were getting snow, and he did. That was the last time I would ever speak with my dad. My mom was duly impressed and countered that they were supposed to get snow the next day. When the caller ID showed my parents' number the next morning I assumed I would hear about Virginia snow. Instead, my sister Heather told me my dad had passed away in his sleep that night.

I wasn't quite sure what to do. Heather couldn't reach Dan, so I had the unenviable task of breaking the news to him a few minutes later. It took a while before I could even cry, before the shock and disbelief wore off. The kids hadn't gotten up yet, so Amber and I just sat on the couch, trying to process the information.

We had several things planned for the day and I'm glad we did, because the distractions allowed me to take it in in smaller chunks, to not be overwhelmed by the sadness. We went to the store, and stopped by our neighborhood "Winter Festival" so the kids could pet the animals, see Santa, and get "reindeer food" to sprinkle on our driveway. Dan & Hyde watched the kids that night and we went to my fancy-schmancy company holiday party at the Museum of Art. It felt a little weird, but I think I would have felt worse staying home, missing out on life because of death.

My mom called me back on Sunday right before Sunday School and we had a good long talk about everything. My poor mom. They were planning on celebrating their 50th anniversary next August. They already bought tickets for a South American tour. They had just bought a new TV and computer. They were just getting into the swing of retirement. My dad had only been retired for about 5 years, I think. And now all of that's gone for her. No more daily walks together. No more reading and talking together. One day he was there hanging up the Christmas lights, the next he was gone. There was no preparation. No talks about finances, no explanation about the computer set-up, not even where the keys to the gun cabinet are. Now she has to figure all that out. Thankfully Jason and Heather live nearby or I don't know what she would do.

Warren was tasked with creating a tribute DVD picture slide show for the funeral and requested pictures. I spent an hour or two Sunday night going through all my pictures to find good pictures of my dad. After I sent them off it finally hit me fully and I just sat downstairs and cried. That was the lowest point for me, when it finally became real.

From a young age I realized that as a child born to a 43 year-old father and 40 year-old mother, I would probably see my parents die while I was still relatively young. I had always hoped otherwise, of course, but it was something I had at least in some small way prepared myself for. Even so, 29 still seems too young to lose your dad. My kids will never really know him. Some will never meet him. And there are dozens of questions I will never get to ask him.

But in a way I can't be too sad. He saw me graduate from college, get married, get a good job, buy a house, and start a family, all of which he would have missed had he died 4 years earlier. He visited just a few months ago and got to know my kids. I was on good terms with him, we had a good relationship, and I know he wasn't worried about me. I think I've gotten to the point in my life where I don't really need him anymore. He will be missed beyond words, but I know what advice he would have given me, what he would want me to do. He left enough of himself in me that he won't ever be completely gone.

He lived a great, full life. He influenced literally thousands of people for the better. He didn't leave any regrettable unfinished business. I think he accomplished all his goals in life. He was successful in business, in church, and most importantly in his own family. He traveled the world, rode his motorcycles, danced, and tinkered with electronics. I know he had his regrets, but they were minor compared to his successes.

Everyone gathered in Virginia sometime during the next week. With recent friction in the family, perhaps this was the only way we could have had a family reunion. It was bittersweet to be sure.

His viewing was on Friday, and it was a testament to his influence in the area. Hundreds of people came -- from church members to neighbors to friends -- waiting in a line that wound through the building and out the door. We greeted people for over 4 hours. Everyone wanted to do more than just pay their respects, they wanted to say something, to let us know what my dad had done for them. I lost my voice talking to people I hadn't seen in years. If only it could have been under better circumstances.

His funeral services the next day were also well-attended. Heather and Russell paired up to give the eulogy, Marisa read a tribute, his counselors from the Stake Presidency spoke, his grandchildren sang I Am a Child of God, and Brother Call gave the final talk on the plan of salvation. Everything was beautiful and very well done. It's a shame that a life as great as his had to be condensed into such a small amount of time.

I encouraged him recently to write his life history, and I'm thankful now I was inspired to do so. He didn't finish, unfortunately, but I will compile what he did write, perhaps with second-hand accounts to fill in the gaps, so my children will know who their grandfather was. He was a master storyteller, and I want them to hear those stories too.

Perhaps what is hardest in all of this, is that although I loved my dad, I also liked him. I liked talking to him and being around him and I will miss that. Even if he didn't need to do another fatherly thing for me, I will miss having him as a friend. I look forward to the time when I can see him again. I love you dad.

Snow

Here are some pictures and a video from our second annual December snowfall. It snowed most of the day on the 4th and didn't all melt until the 5th. As predicted, I was advised to come home early and I spent a large portion of the day outside with Olivia enjoying the snow while it lasted.

Winter

After a few nice months of having the thermostat shut off (and a beautiful Thanksgiving weekend), we finally turned on the heat a few days ago. I also used my jacket for the first time yesterday. And the city is probably going to shut down tomorrow, because of this:

Yes, those are little snowflakes that are supposed to fall on us sometime tomorrow afternoon and/or evening. There is a distinct possibility it won't accumulate at all, but I would not be surprised if we are advised to leave work early anyway. When it gets close to 32º around here, it's serious business.

Mobile one

In the space of about a week, Carmen went from being a regular baby to a mobile baby:



This video is a few days old now and she's getting more confident. Unfortunately, like Olivia, she only uses her crawling powers in times of necessity. Her favorite means of transportation by far is to be walked around. A lot. She can also stand unassisted for a surprisingly long time. Hopefully she'll make the transition to fingerless walking a little faster than her sister.

Insurance vs. Care

So in the current kerfuffle over health care, one thing that pets my peeve is the seeming confusion over what insurance is. When you buy car insurance, you pay small amounts of money to ensure that in the event of damage to the car, the insurer will cover the larger repair cost. (I know there are deductibles and other extra details, but that's the basic idea.) This works because of statistics and actuarial tables and so forth that allow many people who aren't crashing their cars to pay small amounts and the insurer to use that money to repair the cars of the fewer people who crash them. It works the same for home insurance, life insurance, disability insurance, and any other insurance you can think of.

Currently I keep hearing about how health insurance companies are "discriminating" by denying insurance to people with preexisting health conditions. To me that is no more discrimination than an insurance company who refuses to pay for repairs to a car that was crashed before coverage was bought. It's like burning down your house, then buying a home-owner's policy and expecting the insurance company to rebuild it. Insurance insures against a future event. People with preexisting conditions are no longer looking for health insurance, they are looking for health care, i.e. treatment.

Health insurance provides health care when the need arises. The other option is to pay the full cost up front. Barring "discrimination" based on preexisting conditions would only encourage people to not have actual insurance, and instead apply for health "insurance" only when a condition arises to receive expensive treatment without the monetary investment. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the business model of insurance would be shot. Yet, mandating health insurance to provide that monetary base grates against American ideas of freedom.

The underlying problem, unfortunately, is that health insurance and health care deal with people's lives. You can either repair a car, or you junk it and replace it, or you live without. Repairing people sometimes requires life-long treatment during which insurance/care may be lost. It's hard to say, "Well, your insurance doesn't cover that, so adios!", or "You could live until you're 100 with this drug, but because you lost coverage for a month, you'll die at 60", or "You were too arrogant or dumb to get insurance so you deserve to die."

I don't know what the best solution is (although I have some ideas), but I do know that there is a distinct difference between health insurance and health care, and blurring the line between them in political rhetoric will do nothing to change reality. Somebody's got to pay for it.