Tag: parenting

Book Take-Aways and a Google Privacy Policy #FAIL

Today I learned:

1. Take-aways: I was reading the materials provided for an upcoming leadership training program I am participating in and one of the stats given was intriguing: Only 1% of people who read a business book will actually implement any of the ideas.

There was no source provided so I can’t back this up (and for this reason I am not citing where I read it), but it does seem like a reasonable guesstimate.  It got me thinking. Am I part of the 99%…or the 1%?

It seems in this area I am not doing too bad, but I could be doing better. When I read I already do it pen in hand and I am forever circling, underlining and bending page corners to keep note of things that hit home for me.  That said, I rarely look back to recalibrate on the lessons learned. Tonight I decided to change that with a new strategy.

Whenever I finish a book, if I think there are things I need to implement, I am going to schedule a 30 minute reflection in my calendar about a month away to revisit it.  If I find that time helpful I will schedule another one a bit further down the road.

To experiment, I tried it tonight with Peter Legge’s The Power of a Dream which I finished in the fall of 2011. It turns out there were several lessons and anecdotes I have actually used, but the refresher reminded me of a few gems I had forgotten.  A worthy exercise it seems. My assumption is that with a powerful book after 2-3 reviews I should be able to ingrain the key points permanently. Will it take more? Maybe, but this plan is a start, and it seems a useful experiment. Why not invest another couple hours or so in a book you feel strongly about? Otherwise it just gathers dust.

I am interested to know if anyone else does something similar – any comments?

2. Google Age Restrictions? Privacy Policy #Fail: Google products are integrated deeply into my life and the way things are going I assume they will be weaved into the lives of my kids too. That’s why I am quite concerned with a piece of their new privacy policy.  I was reading up on the changes tonight and I found this link outlining a new age requirement of 13 years for a Google Account in Canada.

Presumably this was done to match the existing Google+ age-restriction policy, but I see a problem with it.

Gmail is email. It is not Google+, and not Facebook. It is social, but not a social network. Integrating all our accounts across platforms makes some sense, but not when it limits access to the most basic communication tool they have – email. That’s akin to telling me when I was growing up in the 1980’s that I wasn’t allowed to buy stamps.

This could actually create a problem for me – I already have accounts for my kids. In fact, they had them in the womb. They are not even close to 13, and while the kids don’t even know about them yet, my wife and I actually use them. We send them things like pictures and funny one liners as sort of e-diary which we hope they will one day enjoy reading.

Will we let the kids use the accounts prior to age 13?  That was certainly the plan.  From what I understand lots of local kids need email as early as grade 1 to manage homework and communicate with their teacher.  I would hate to think this policy could sent my kids flocking to Hotmail, or god forbid, Yahoo.

Unexpected emotion and Emotion unexpected

Today I learned:

1. Unexpected Emotion: If you had asked me 5 years ago what emotion I would experience when walking out of the house in the morning accompanied by a tiny witch in gumboots and a two-legged horse wearing a pirate hat and Dora shoes, I would have assumed it would be embarrassment. Today I learned instead that emotion is acceptance, accompanied by a sort of muted expectation that the day can only improve from there.

2. Emotion unexpected: With pending ACL surgery I have spent the last few days researching what to expect in the recovery period immediately following the procedure. I have been talking to friends that have gone through the same thing, chatting up doctors and scouring the web. At this point I find just about any source acceptable, from the anecdotal to the scientific, and the most concerning thing to me is the variety of answers I am given, even from credible resources.

It is not the likelihood of success that bothers me – I would not proceed if I wasn’t completely confident in both the surgeon’s ability to do his job, and my ability to commit to the rigours of months of rehab.

What bothers me is the inability make concrete plans in my personal and professional life.

Despite having a desk job I have been told the time I will need off work could range anywhere from 2 days (by a close friend) to 4-6 weeks (by a surgeon). In the weeks following the operation I have pre-planned personal events including two Canuck’s games, a Wine Tasting, and a family wedding. Now I don’t know if I will be able to attend any of them.

Family vacation at Easter? Not sure how mobile I will be.

Annual summer golf trip? I damn well hope so.

Essentially I am entering a period of somewhere up to a month where planning work meetings/commitments is tough and up to about 6 months where planning anything fun is risky.

The result? A range of emotions.

  • Happiness – “Finally, surgery after a frustrating 4.5 month wait.”
  • Anger – “I really dislike the inability to safely plan and commit.”
  • Appreciation – “I now understanding of how important it is to keep fit and healthy.”
  • Indecision – “I hate giving family and work non-committal answers to fair questions.”
  • Hope – “I really want to be rehab’d in time for that golf trip!”
  • Freedom – “I know what I can do now, so a spur of the moment family vacation has been booked.”

Surgery and Rehab? No problem. I go that. It’s the unknown that is getting to me. When you are a planner, the thing that bugs you more than anything is an empty calendar.

Today’s Teachable Moment and The Rudest Guy at Work

Today I learned:

1. Teachable moments: While lying on the couch with my two year old this evening she looked squarely up my nose and excitedly exclaimed, “Dad, what’s up your booger hole?”

As an early candidate for father of the year I wasn’t about to let the teachable moment slip past me, and I politely informed her that it is nostril and not, as she and her 4 year old sister so fondly refer to it, a booger hole. We then engaged in quite a lengthy conversation about the purpose of nostrils during which it occurred to me that the lesson had in fact taken. This made me interested in how we identify and properly execute the “teachable moment.”

There are no shortage of people discussing this issue online, and what struck me is that the recommendations are basically the same whether you are taking the perspective of a parent or a manager.

The best K.I.S.S. summary I can come up with is this:

  • The right moment must be laced with engagement and emotion. Teaching about seat belts after witnessing an accident is an easy example. With kids, once they engage and start asking about something they are sponges. At work it may be tougher to spot the moment, but engagement looks the same in a 4 year old as a 40 year old. It just sounds different.
  • Be prepared. If you prep your message and stay ready to engage in conversation rather than command you’ll find your opportunity.
  •  Be patient. Outside school we have the opportunity to weave messages into the day. You don’t need to convey everything in one go. Learning occurs over time – take it.

2. The Rudest Guy at Work: I was reading an article on Manners in this week’s MacLean’s, not because I need it of course but rather to learn from the behaviour of others.

It got me thinking: who is the rudest person at work?

I work in a rather large office so there are quite a few candidates. People that leave their dishes in the sink for someone else to clean were the first to come to mind. The people that anonymously post sarcastic signs to condemn those people are close behind.

The winner?

At my office it is hands down the guy that shaves in the bathroom then leaves hair all over the sink.

Over the last few weeks I am becoming increasingly frustrated with that guy. Unfortunately I can’t bring myself to post a sign, so the plan I have developed to deal it is this:

  1. Take a deep breath and suck it up.  Life’s too short.
  2. Divert my attention – e.g. Use a different washroom
  3. Look for the lesson – e.g.  Examine my own behavior to ensure everything I do at work is not having the same negative effect on other people.
  4. Politely address the issue – e.g. collect the shavings and sprinkle them on his keyboard after he leaves at night.
Well, 3 out of 4 isn’t bad.

Lying to your kids and a Kodak Moment

Today I learned:

1. Don’t lie to your kids: If you accidently break one of your daughter’s toys you need to own up to it. The other natural alternative – telling her it was destroyed by the wolves in the backyard who ate it when it was left out last night – is just a story full of holes that will be picked apart by your highly analytical child at roughly 3:17 am.

2. A Kodak Moment: On the drive to work I listened to an article from the Economist contrasting Kodak’s failed attempt to transition its brand from a dying industry, with that of rival firm Fuji-film which has successfully altered its course, surprisingly, towards a position within the cosmetic industry (among other ventures).

At lunch I found another Kodak article, this time by Seth Godin, that addresses the difficulty successful incumbents have in identifying a new course – my favourite quote being Kodak was “so in love with their success that they insisted the world change in their favor, as opposed to embracing the future that was sure to arrive.”

The lifecycle concept applies to every company in every business and (simplistically speaking at least) only the speed of transition for the industry really differs. Despite that, it is amazing to see how many companies live in the present rather than planning for tomorrow.  Personally, it certainly made me think about what percentage of my day I spend in the present and what percent I spend planning for the future. I decided to setup a simple reminder – a bit of “Kodak Time” is now scheduled into my monthly calendar.

As a aside, a special message to the strategists at Kodak:

Dear Kodak,

Digital printing will not save you guys, either.  It might not even be viable by the time you get good at it.

Sincerely,

Logic.


My kid sucks at hide and seek, plus “They kill you a little bit everyday.”

Today I learned:

1. My kid sucks at hide and seek: My four year old can do simple math, including multiplication and division. She can sound out and read basic words. She can swim, skate and ride a bike. But if you play hide and seek with her you will be most likely to find her writhing like a fish out of water under a blanket in the middle of our living room. Best case, maybe she’ll be under the table, yelling “come find me – he he he.” Regardless, the next time she just goes back to exactly the same spot. And the time after that? Same spot.

Surprisingly, according the the fine people at the Lego Learning Institute, my kid is on track. At least for now, anyway. She better learn to hide by age 5 though or we are going to need to write her off.

I must admit that even after a bit of research I am having trouble selling myself on the fact everything is normal. The next time I see her hiding half covered under a pillow on top of her bed I may need a reminder.

Full disclosure: Louis C.K. has a great bit on this topic. Google the clip – it’s no stretch to call the video I found offensive to some viewers so no link here.

2. “They kill you a little bit everyday”: This quote comes from a friend we ran into while taking the kids swimming today. After a morning of fits over unfinished oatmeal and a full on battle to have the 2 year old stay put on the potty, it certainly rang true.

It made me think though, is it correct?

It turns out no. At least not if you are Norwegian anyway. Research there has shown mortality rates are highest among those with no kids, and rank second for people with only one child. The research doesn’t spell it out but I can’t imagine that inverse relationship holds true very long long. I doubt 8 kids helps you live longer than 4. Eventually another relationship – the one between the number of kids you have and how many glasses of wine you want at night – is going to get you.

I am turning into my dad, but my kids aren’t turning into me

Today I learned:

1. I am turning into my dad:  I checked the twitter feed of a person I come in contact with frequently through work. Everything I saw was professional and above board, but I couldn’t help but notice the timing of the posts. Tweet after tweet during regular work hours.

That bugs me.

Alot.

And worse, I fear that along with the appearance in the workplace of things like purple hair, tattoos, and hipster mustaches, I am pretty sure it would bug my dad too. Am I growing old or more conservative? And which of those is worse?

2. My kids aren’t turning into me: I told my oldest daughter we could do whatever she wanted today. Her plan? “Let’s go buy flowers for Mommy.” This is a thought, unfortunately, that virtually never occurs to me. It led me to conclude, unfortunately, my kids are not turing into me and maybe I should be turning into them.

Pocket Espresso to Go and A Lesson from Gonzo

Today I learned:
1. Is that a Shot of Espresso in your Pocket?: On a trip to Italy  two years ago I discovered a weakness for Pocket Espresso to Go. My love for the team at Ferrero grew further today when I got the chance to sample the chocolatey version of their product.
This lead me to conclude I love all related espresso products that fit comfortably and safely in my pocket.  Unfortunately I also learned it is not easily imported to Canada, and worse yet (according to this fellow blogger and Pocket Coffee aficionado) the espresso version is not made in winter. Madness. What could be better in winter than sipping espresso on demand, straight from your pants? Anyone visiting Italy this summer?
2. Super-Gonzo: After watching The Muppets movie on the weekend, today at the breakfast table our four year old proudly announced “Gonzo can fly because he wears a cape.” This gave me a vivid flashback of myself on a bright summer day in the early 80’s, worn out blue velvet cape billowing in the breeze, and proudly perched on the railing of my sundeck. Like father, like daughter? Let’s hope not.
There are some lesson parents can teach kids, and there are some things kids need to learn for themselves. I better keep a keen eye on the deck closely this year to help make this lesson the former, not the later.

PVR with my Dad and Story time with Angry Birds

Today I learned:

1. The concept of the PVR is lost on my dad. This is despite the fact he owned one before me.

Our conversation tonight:

Me (immediately upon Dad’s arrival): Don’t tell me what happens in the hockey game, I PVR’d it.

Dad: You’re going to want to watch the first period, and then not much else until the shootout.

The lesson saved me a couple hours I guess.

2. Story time works with Angry Birds: In an attempt to mix things up, story time with my daughter has recently involved a fictional monkey (which she appropriately named Parakeet) and his travels around the world, supplemented by photos from google images of different cities viewed on our Ipad.

Inventive I thought, but admittedly I just wasn’t up for it tonight. Fighting a bit of a cold my creativity was waning, but I figured out a way to deal with it.

Story time tonight involved a gang of very angry birds who were intent on knocking over bad-guy pigs. Why? Well, the pigs had eaten all their birdseed of course. She seemed to enjoy it, and in the meantime I passed 5 more levels so I am calling it a win-win. I now have an idea for tomorrow too – an alligator that is sad because he want a bath, but he can’t find the water!

My kid poops at Sport Chek, and The Economist

Today I learned:
1. My kids poops at Sport Chek: I have taken my four year old to Sport Chek five times in her life and everytime she runs for the public washroom telling me she needs to poop. Based on today I now think it is ingrained in her, like some sort of Pavlovian response.  It’s better than prunes.  If the kid has any problems with regularity down the road I will just take her shopping.
2. The Economist: Since completing my MBA last spring I have had a bulls-eye painted on my forehead that every marketeer trying to flog a magazine subscription has been aiming for. With the unrealistic belief that I should now have lots of time for periodicals I have fallen for just about all of them too. It puts me in an odd spot – at work I try to stay as paper free, while my home is cluttered with magazine after magazine, and most get barely more than a quick glance. The only exception is The Economist. It doesn’t get read at all.
At then end of the day though, it is the only one I wouldn’t give up. I stream the audio version from my phone while driving and peruse the online version during lunch and at night.  If I had to pick one (and as soon as the renewal letters come I will), it is the only one I would keep.

I’ll never go to the bathroom alone again, and it’s never good when your daughter says…

Today I learned:
1. I’ll never go to the bathroom alone again: My problems in the bathroom are officially solved. No more awkward balancing of the laptop on my knees. All logistical problems have been flushed away. Now that we have an iPad I really can’t imagine going to the bathroom alone again. The only problem that might come up now is getting me out of there.
2. It is never good when your daughter says: “Daddy, you’ll never find your keys!” Today our pleasant little four year old was laughing and laughing while I madly searched the house for the my keys.  A fun game, apparently.