When this goes live, I’ll be on the road to the Financial Bloggers Conference outside of Chicago. That translates to a day off here.
Monday, I’ll be back with a whole bucket full of bloggy goodness.
Huh?
Am I the only one who just noticed that it’s Wednesday? The holiday week with the free day is completely screwing me up.
Just to make this a relevant post:
Spend less!
Save more!
Invest!
Wee!
Magical Thinking
A few weeks ago, on my way to work, while merging onto the highway, a soccer mommy in an SUV decided that she was going to accelerate to fill the opening I was going to use. Not before I got there, which would have left her in the right, if still a jerk, but as I was moving into the lane.
The entire reasoning was that she could be rude and dangerous under the assumption that I would be more civilized and back down, allowing her to indulge her little fantasy about how the world works. Luckily I saw her speed up, and had time to move out of the way. Physics very nearly taught her an expensive lesson.
This is similar to the people who think they’ll be safe because “nothing has happened before” or think “He won’t hurt me because I;m a good person” when confronted with a mugger.
This is magical thinking. Basing assumptions of other people’s actions on nothing more than your personal hopes and biases. The truth is, your halo does not provide a shield. Your luck at dodging criminals while strolling through bad neighborhoods does not circumvent statistical likelihood and your jerkface attempt to run me into a guard rail had better be backed by the stones to deal with a wreck.
Magical thinking, wishful thinking, and baseless hope are not rational methods of running your life. Criminals hunt for victims who wrap themselves in a smug, yet naïve, superiority. Murphy’s Law is waiting for someone arrogant enough to think that the laws of physics don’t apply when you’re commuting. The only rational means of predicting the behavior of others is to look at the signals they are actually producing.
Someone tentatively trying to squeeze into an opening in traffic is far more likely to submit to your passive aggression than the guy who merges with a turn signal and the gas pedal.
Someone in the park after hours in a hoody is more likely to hurt you than the guy in running shorts.
The guy lurking in the shadows of the parking ramp, refusing to make eye contact is a more likely mugger than the suit trying to find his Lexus.
A million years of evolution have given us an incredible ability to detect danger. A few hundred years of relative peace at the end of a few thousand years of relative civilization have not erased that ability, it has just convinced us to ignore our instincts under the mistaken assumption that all predators live in the jungle.
Fear has survival value. Don’t allow your rational brain to override your lizard brain completely. Let your fear keep you safe.
Find the Things That You Love
First, watch this.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_BtmV4JRSc
“It’s not about what you love, it’s about how you love it. There’s going to be a thing in your life that you love, and I don’t know what that’s going to be…it doesn’t matter what that is. The way you love that–and the way you find other people who love it the way you do–is what makes being a nerd awesome. -Wil Wheaton”
In the video, Wil Wheaton gets asked to send a message about being a nerd to an audience members newborn baby, and he does.
Being a nerd isn’t about pocket protectors, or D&D, or chess club. Being a nerd is about finding something you love and loving it no matter what.
My son is obsessed with League of Legends and Minecrack. I don’t get it.
I don’t have to.
My wife and daughters are all horse, all the time. I don’t get it.
I don’t have to.
Growing up, we got our first computer when I was about 7. Thanks to 3-2-1 Contact magazine, I started programming it shortly thereafter.
A few years later, we got a computer that wasn’t Apples green-on-green monstrosity. My first instructions from my parents were “Don’t break it.”
It took me three days. I was 11.
At 14, I got sent to computer camp. Soon after, I was up all night writing code. I remember getting questioned when my dad got up for work. “Have you been on that thing all night?”
He didn’t get it.
He didn’t have to. It was enough that he didn’t stop me.
My obsession–and my parents’ tolerance for it–eventually led to a career that allows me to support my family.
In high school, I discovered roleplaying games.
NERD!
The friends I made there are my friends now, 15 years later. I rent a room to one of the first people I played D&D with. He introduced me to my wife.
My nerdy obsessions have formed the basis of everything I love today.
When you are raising your kids, or shaking your head at something your husband or wife is doing, just be happy that they have found something to love.
Don’t ever tell them they can’t love the things they love, and don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t love the things you love.
Giving Up The Magic
It’s a sad day when kids stop believing in Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, and fairies.
Not because I enjoy lying to my kids, but because–on the day they stop believing–a piece of their innocence is lost. An unforgettable, valuable part of childhood dies.
Believing in magic is a beautiful thing.
Do you remember the last time you looked around the world with a sense of wonder? When seeing a puppy form in the clouds was a miracle? When the idea of an ant carrying 1000 times its own weight was something worth watching? When the impossible goodness of a fat man squeezing down your chimney fills you with hope instead of making you call 911?
Do I believe in Santa?
Of course not, but I believe the concept of Santa is worthy of my children’s belief. I don’t want them to lose that innocence and wonder.
When my teenager was young, he asked if Santa was real. I responded by asking what he thought. When he told me he didn’t believe, I offered to let Santa know. His panic told me he wasn’t ready to give up the magic.
The day that conversation didn’t cause a panic, he looked hurt, like he’d lost something precious. He had.
His world of magic was gone.
The he asked why I had spent his lifetime lying to him. I told him the truth. I said I couldn’t bear to be the one to shatter his belief in magic before he was ready.
Then, I informed him that he was in on the conspiracy. He was not allowed to ruin it for anyone else. Not his sisters, not his friends.
That Christmas, my little boy helped me stuff stockings, which was an odd feeling.
The magic was over, but we still got to share the magic of his cousins and sisters.
Do 1 Thing
- Image by Sailing “Footprints: Real to Reel” (Ronn ashore) via Flickr
I’m lazy.
Really, I am. When I get home from work, I want nothing more than to plop down on the couch, dial up a movie and ignore the world for a few hours. I need some downtime to relax.
While I am keeping the couch from flying away, my wife gets home, makes dinner, does the dishes, changes the cat litter and maybe vacuums the floor. Once dinner is cooking, she usually throws in a load of laundry. Three kids is a great way to guarantee a lot of laundry needs to get washed.
I have just two things to say about that:
- It makes me feel really lazy.
- I love you, honey!
I’ve never considered it a problem because I work my butt off on the weekend. My wife isn’t happy with the arrangement because I tend to do next to nothing during the week. I think it’s a good balance. I’m productive on the weekend, she’s productive during the week. Unfortunately, my habitual laziness has caused a bit of tension. We’ve had a few “discussions” about that balance. It’s obviously not working.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been trying something new. When I get home from work I’ve been doing just 1 thing. I do one thing per day. One day, I fold laundry, another day I do the dishes. Some days, I pick a room to organize. It’s never very much, but it’s always something that needs to be done and, possibly most important, it looks like I’m doing more so my wife feels less abandoned to the housework. I’m not actually doing more, but it gets spread out over the week, so it looks like more. Slowly, surely, all of the work is getting done.
It’s not a perfect solution, but it seems to be working. More is getting done, my wife feels like I’m helping out more and I get more time on the weekends to pursue whatever I feel like pursuing. It’s a win for each of us.
How do you balance relaxation and a shared workload?
