Emergency Procedures Checklist

I was running with Supermodel this morning.  It's getting darker and colder.  We run on the rural outskirts of our small town at the base of spectacularly beautiful mountains.  When we mountain bike we obviously venture into the foothills, although the darkness is bringing an end to our early, weekday morning rides.

There are bears and cougars in our area - which is neat - they were here first.  I don't want to encounter one while riding or running though.  When Supermodel and I were riding this summer I wanted to discuss our plan in case one of us (me) was attacked by a bear or cougar.  Unlikely, but it could happen.  She didn't take me seriously, so I discussed at her on every ride, reminding her what she should do if there was an animal on me, and where to find my cell phone in the bike pack so she could call the medics.  She never seemed concerned about how I would handle her attack, probably because I was clearly on top of the situation by initiating these conversations.

When Dad was here a few weeks ago, we saw bear scat (we think) exactly where Supermodel and I ride.  My next ride with Supermodel, I said we really must review again what to do in the event of a bear or cougar attack.  I reviewed at her.

I carried a flashlight this morning when we ran, and wore flashing lights on my chest and back.  The flashlight helps us see potholes, and dead animals in the road (I almost fell into a deer carcass last year without my flashlight - true), but most importantly, the tiny, high beam light allows me to investigate any rustle in the bushes - so we can prepare for an attack.  I attempted to review the attack procedures this morning.  I'm not convinced Supermodel's listening.

I was a tech editor at an airline for many years.  Pilots live by procedures and checklists.  I told Supermodel that I would make us a pocket-sized checklist so we wouldn't have to think about what we're supposed to do in the event of an attack.  Experienced and accomplished pilots routinely use FAA approved checklists.  I would create a CAR (Christina Ann Ross) approved checklist.

For you Supermodel:

And for me:

Chris reminded me this morning that I don't need to be faster than the bear or cougar, just faster than the other guy.

Divergent thoughts that might converge.

It's the time of year when many bloggers are inspired to write about back to school preparations, first day of school experiences, and generally how time flies as we watch our children grow.  I don't know if that's what inspired Punk Rock Dad to write this piece on parenting today, but I like it.

Punk Rock Dad's post sends my mind in two separate directions.  One - who's behind the blog?  Two - parenting, which is as passion-filled as politics and religion.

Direction One - Who's behind the blog?
After reading Punk Rock Dad's blog for a few weeks - it's a new blog, not unlike my own - I believe him to be precisely who he says he is.  Although, I confess to initially picturing him as someone different than who he portrays himself to be - or, I should say, who he is (no offense PRD - I'm a believer).  Who knows though, and does it really matter?

Why do certain blogs appeal to us and others you can't leave fast enough - depends on the day for me.  I wonder when people visit my blog - is the content interesting, or is someone trolling for hits? [I take a shower when I feel like a hit-whore.]  I love seeing traffic increase, and comments are still like little presents - not throwing stones in a glass house.  Feels good - except the whore part - that feels bad.

When I started this blog my friend T said he *liked* it but could tell I was holding back.  He said, why don't you use an anonymous name and be a little naughty?  I said, "Why don't you use an anonymous name and be a little naughty?"  I think his point is valid - obviously anonymity provides more freedom.  Creative endeavors are intimate and can be risky if too much self-esteem is attached.  Ironically, it's some of the people closest to me who I allow to constipate my writing the most.  Friends like T and my husband are safe - but it's a select few.

Direction Two - Parenting
Chris and I are doing the best we can.  I believe most people are.  We put thought into how we're raising our sons, we've read lots of books, listened (sort-of) to our parents, watched friends, attempted to emulate people we thought had *good* kids.  Every time I have a strong criticism of someone's parenting style, something happens in our lives that sharply softens that criticism.  Oh, I realize.  They're doing the best they can.

Punk Rock Dad's post today illustrates the unique experiences we bring to our parenting style.  I believe it also illustrates that we fundamentally all want our kids to be healthy, happy, loved, loving, decent, considerate, contributing human beings.  There's more than one road to that end.

The view from my parasitic head.

Toddler Child arrived screamin' and clingin' almost three years ago - and he hasn't stopped.  He's cute but fiery, and no matter what I do, I can't shake him.  He either hangs on me or I'm restraining him, but we're rarely apart.  If I putter around the house, he follows me and says, "Wat-cha dooo-in?"  If I sit on the couch with the newspaper he wants to sit as close as possible.  He says, "Can I touch you skin?"

Like all toddlers he loves expensive gadgets, only if they're not his, and Chris, I, or his brothers would prefer he not play with them.  On occasion he finds one of the small digital cameras and leaves us some surprises. 

He's a determined boy and makes loud noises when he's not happy.  We're old and tired, so he wins.  Don't send "Miracle Nanny" or whoever - we're comfortable with our caving strategy.  Sometimes just to make the screaming stop, we give him the camera.  So I can pack a picnic lunch, so Chris can drive in peace, so I can cut his hair, or so we can medicate while coping with the reality of the love nest on our Colorado trip. [Photos courtesy of Toddler Child]

Eventually we have to take the camera away from him because... well... I don't know why we take it away, because we always give it back to him when this happens.

If we don't give him the camera, it's my skin, which means Toddler Child and I are together...again.