Akex figured out the whole Santa thing when he was three years old. Rather than relate the whole tale, I would direct you to something Thump wrote several years ago (and thanks for digging up the link for me, Thumps.) He was very good about never spoiling the whole thing for Rachel, and later Kevin, but on a parental plane, not having that with him was something we later realized we missed.

Now Kevin has admitted that he's figured it out, too, but he won't spoil it for Toni and Travis--and he now understands why Alex saves money fanatically all through the year, only to spend it all in one giant shopping trip after which he comes home empty handed.

He wants to go with Alex this year; he's got exactly $16.45 in his piggy bank, but he wants to spend it all on a toy and then donate the it (Dad will sneak him a little extra cash, but he won't know that until we get to the store.) Alex's only reservation in Kevin tagging alog was whether or not it would bother me: this is something he and I have done together for the last 11 years and he wasn't sure if I would resent it if he brought Kevin into it.

Hardly. I hate shopping but I am looking forward to this. Once established that I didn't mind this shopping trip not being just Alex and I they invited Rachel, too, but she declined, understanding, I think, that I might want to have something with just my boys.

She would be correct; still, I would also like to find something that's just for her and me (that doesn't involve shirtless werewolves and sparkling vampires) but she's a hard read sometimes. She's sweet and genuine, but she's also close to turning 13 and is smack in the middle of everything that brings with it.

I'll figure it out.

I guess the point really is that my kids get it, and they got it without much input from me. I'm not sure how I could be any prouder of them for how generous they inherently are.

Witout intention, we seem to have kicked off the holiday season with giant doses of sexism. On Thursday the men were banned from the kitchen (except for Travis, who welded his weapon of cuteness to be allowed in) while the women cooked dinner, and yesterday Char, her sister, and Rachel were up at 3 am to hit the Black Friday sales. This has never interested Char before, but Nika wanted to, and Rachel was inexplicably excited about it.

While they shopped, the rest of us stayed at home and ignored the To-Do list that was left on the kitchen counter. Instead, Alex and Kevin took the dogs to the park while Brad helped me winterize my bike (his help consisted of him standing there with a beer in hand, pointing out to Peter everything I was doing wrong and ho he'd be doing it if he was doing it--but he wouldn't be doing it because he rides even when it's cold.) By the time Char got home, Brad had the grill fired up and was grilling ribs, which kept her from grousing about having her list ignored.

They were gone until almost 4 o'clock yet didn't get much actual Christmas shopping done. I'm not sure I want to ask what they were actually doing, because I'm afraid I would get a lengthy explanation of each of their shopping techniques.

I'd hoped they'd get it all done to spare me from being dragged out later, but no such luck.

This coming week is going to be busy as hell, started off by Kevin and Rachel having another ortho appointment. We haven't told them yet, but we're going to let them hold off until after the holidays to get their braces put on. Kevin doesn't seem to care all that much, but Rachel has been stressed about the idea, and if Alex is right, half the reason is because she doesn't want to have brand new braces and the accompanying headaches right now because of all the holiday choir concerts, and the other half is because of the junior high Christmas dance. She doesn't have a "date" to it, but some squeaky thirteen year old has apparently already asked her for the first dance.

I think I should offer to chaperone that dance.

Last year, we mostly ignored Thanksgiving. My dad had recently died, and no one felt like celebrating without him; it was one of his favorite days of the year, and for days leading up to it the house echoed with his absence. There was no doubt that we had much to be thankful for, but it almost felt like a betrayal to him to do anything more than watch the football game on TV.

This year felt very different. He never stepped foot (or rolled his chair) into this house, but we could all feel him here. The things we feel thankful for feel multiplied; the kids are are healthy and far happier here than they were living out in the sticks, we see more of Char's father and my niece and her husband, and Char's sister plopped out of nowhere and is a constant in our lives. This close family is even closer; our kids don't just tolerate each other, they like each other. They protect each other. They laugh at jokes no one else could possibly understand; they respect each other. They treat us with respect, even when they're making fun of us.

If that was all I had today, it would be enough.

But July first changed everything. I had come a little too close to losing Char once before, and Rachel with her, but July first was monumentally, uncomfortably close. So close that by all logic that Brad and the kids and I should have spent today drenched in our grief. Today should have been agony.

Instead, today was filled with lightness and life. I woke up today not dreading the day but excited about it; my house was going to be filled with the sound of kids laughing. My father in law would be here giving my kids crap about Santa. My niece and her husband would be here with my grandkids. My sister in law would be here with her fiance, helping Char cook while threatening Brad and me with sharp objects if we took one step towards her pies.

As cheesy as it sounds, I woke up feeling my father's approval. He would have been overjoyed today, and would have helped Brad whip the kids into a holiday frenzy. I still miss my father so much that it does often hurt, but today I could feel what he would have wanted me to.

Mostly, though, today I woke up next to the woman who should not be here, and I watched her sleep until the sound of Kevin slamming the pantry door shut woke her up. I watched her stretch, and then smile just before she curled up against me. I started today holding one of the most precious things my life will ever have.

I have so many things to be thankful for, but today I am most grateful for that. I am beyond my ability to give thanks for just the simple act of being able to watch her breathe. I could not be more thankful that I have the chance to spend many, many more years with her, to grow old with her, and to spoil a dozen grandkids with her.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Char heard the phone ring, but we've learned to not make much of an effort to answer it; if we do, we nearly get knocked over by either the teenager or the almost-teenager in their zeal to get to it first, just in case it's someone who didn't bother to call them on the cells. Even though it never is.

No one came to get her, so she assumed that for once it was for one of them, and went back to the book she was reading.

Twenty minutes later, now curious about the level of quiet that didn't feel right, she went into the kitchen and Kevin was sitting at the table doing homework; the phone was off the hook and lying on the kitchen counter. Puzzeled, she asked him why it was not hung up.

Uncle Craig is on the phone.

Why didn't you come get me?

He wanted to talk to Dad. I said I would tell him he was on the phone.

Your dad isn't home, Kevin.

I didn't say when I would tell him...

I'm not sure what's funnier: that Kevin left Craig hanging like that, or that my idiot brother was still on the other end, waiting.

I owe Alex.

In a moment of massive not-paying-attention-to-the-actual-request, I promised Rachel I would take her and several friends to see New Moon after school today. They're 12; I don't just drop kids off at a theater, I suffer through whatever it is they want to see, but when I realized what I had agreed to, I was tempted. Very tempted.

Rachel squealed to Alex that she and her friends were going and he must have seen the look on my face, and told her that Stephanie wanted to see it it, so would she mind if they tagged along? Rachel was all for it; anything is better than squirmy Dad in a theater.

Before they all poured out of the car Alex set the ground rules: he and Stephanie would sit behind them, no talking after the previews were over, no squealing when the shirtless boys showed up on the screen, no going to the bathroom alone, and no talking back if he asked them to pipe down.

Good job.

He has a date tomorrow; they're going out for pizza and are meeting friends there. I think to show my appreciation, I'll pop for the first pizza. I'd pay for the whole thing, but I've seen Alex and his friends eat, and I could go broke.

(This is where I have to admit that moving has turned out to be a good thing all the way around; I actually get to go home until he calls for a ride, rather than finding a place in town to hang out.)

On the Kevin Front: he's not taking ballet anymore. Instead he's taking stage & production dancing, as his teacher thought he would enjoy it more, and it will incorporate some ballet. The kid really likes to dance and she sees a little performer emerging and wants to help him find what he'll both excel at and love. So far, I think she's on the mark. He's sticking with TKD, too, and will probably test for his black belt around his 11th birthday. Yes, I caved on the age issue. TK wants the minumum to be 10, and since this is now TK's school, 10 it is.

We've got the dojang moved and classes have resumed, the kids all have things going on now that require parental taxi service, for some reason I am expected to be sociable, we've been to a wedding, visited two students in the hospital, had meetings with several parents of TKD students in need of a little extra help, one dog that ate an entire box of bran cereal, major cleanup of carpets because of one dog that ate an entire box of bran cereal, and an argument over who left the damned box of cereal where Tank could get to it, and why the hell do we need bran cereal anyway? I need a clone. One who can clean up runny dog shit without gagging.

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.

~Bishop Desmond Tutu

In the wake of my kids discovering that I'd been married before and feeling the need to apologize for publically calling my ex bat shit crazy, Char has been emailing back and forth with her.

This isn't a complete surprise; before my parents moved out here she and Kathy spent some time together on visits back home, and they got along. I never would have expected it, but they liked each other. So now they're swapping email and stories about what our kids are up to and the things her now-grown step-kids have been doing. I get it third hand, because, to be honest, it all feels a little weird and I'm not keen on trying to forge a friendship with my ex-wife.

I hope she doesn't take that personally. It's not meant to be; as stung as Alex was by the revelation for my first marriage, he would be hurt if he ever found out I was talking to her, and that's a pain I don't wish to inflict on him. And while I like my ex...I am just not compelled to sit down and fire off an email to her.

No, I don't mind that Char has formed a somewhat unique pen-pal type friendship with her. I have gotten some insight into things that left me baffled when we split up; she didn't want kids, yet turned around a married a guy who had six kids of his own, and custody of all of them.

By then I had long moved on and Char not only had wrapped me around her little finger, but we had already gotten married and had Alex; it was still a little off putting to realize that it wasn't that Kathy hadn't wanted kids; she didn't want them with me.

There was amusement wrapped up in the WTF feeling; she had little experience with small kids and was suddenly surrounded by them.

Over the last couple of months, Char and Kathy have talked about this; whatever Kathy told her, Char understood in an estrogen-soaked way, comprehending Kathy's thoughts in a shorthand that I've come to think only women understand.

That's not a slap against women; it's an admission that men in general don't always get the way women communicate, especially with each other.

Basically, I didn't get it.

Then this morning Char handed the latest Reader's Digest to me with it held open to the above-mentioned quote by Desomnd Tutu. This is what she means; it's what you already knew. You two were together to hold a place for the families you were destined to get, not the family everyone expected you to create.

I can accept that. I'm not sure I believe it 100%. Our familes may be God's gift, but to use someone else as a placeholder, especially when hearts are on the line and there is so much inherent expectation, feels a little bit cruel.

But what do I know?

If we were using each other it never felt intentional. And in the end, we're both much happier people now, with our priorities lined up in an exponentially more mature line. We're where we want to be. It was worth the pain to get here.

I can't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

There's a park nearby where Alex takes Tank for walks, and where he and Kevin go to shoot hoops. It's also about halfway between here and Stephanie's house, so most of the time she meets them there and intentionally loses game of 'horse' to Kevin (I am sarting to really like this girl.)

Yesterday Alex had both dogs and his little brother with him; he was a bit preoccupied controlling all three, so Damien's sudden presence didn't click with him at first. (Stephanie was not there this time, but I suspect Damien was looking for her.) The basketball court was somewhat crowded, though Kevin had one of the short hoops to himself while Alex walked Tank and Stoner back and forth; he was about fifty yards away when it registered in his brain that Damien was talking to Kevin, and he looked like he was sneering.

He ran with Tank's leash in hand, and ordered Stoner to follow. Stoner is too old to run much, but he follows directions well, so Alex was sure he would follow as quickly as he could.

When he was within fifty feet he let Tank's leash go with the command to block Kevin. That was a bit risky as Tank has been more difficult to train than Stoner ever was; Stoner would hear the command and be directly in front of Kevin in half a second. Tank just might lop over and head butt someone completely uninvolved in the crotch.

Tank obeyed this time and sat right in front of Kevin, a large furry wall between him and Damien. Stoner picked up his pace and was next to Tank before Alex could get there (which had to be painful for him.) Alex was ready to do whatever he had to, but when he was close enough, he realized Kevin was laughing.

Damien was not sneering at Kevin out of threat; he was sneering because he had just admitted that Kevin could probably wipe up the basketball court with him. He was there because he had seen Alex at the park and stopped to apologize to him, and wanted Alex to meet him at Stephanie's so he could apologize to her, as well (I think he had hoped they would both be there, so there's no telling how it would have gone down if they had been.)

Alex is not stupid; he called me to come pick him up and to go with him to Stephanie's. Char followed in the SUV to collect Kevin and the dogs--her first solo drive, I might add--and take them home.

On the surface, Damien's apology seemed sincere. He promised to leave Stephanie alone and claimed to be sorry that he had frightened her. His intentions seem genuine.

That doesn't mean I trust the kid. I don't. He got caught in an uncomfortable position with his parents and his TKD instructor breathing down his neck, he's being drug tested, and likely dragged off to therapy. That doesn't begin to address his apparent lack of impulse control and immaturity, nor does it suddenly instill in him a respect for women that he obviously lacks.

Stephanie's dad doesn't buy it 100% either. She accepted his apology, but as soon as Damien was gone my warning to both her and Alex was to not let their guards down. For the immediate future she's still leaving school with us and will be at either our house or the dojang until her father gets off work.

But, it might be a sliver of progress. With all the adults in his life keeping an eye on him, he might come around. I still think he's redeemable, but it's going to be a giant pain in the ass, and that's with the presumption his parents can keep him in TKD and remove him from the influence of some questionable friends.

They want to know what they've done wrong; I don't think it's that simple. You can do the bet you can do and still your kids make their own choices. Individuation is an important part of adolescent growth, but it doesn't always manifest itself in the ways we might choose.

My kids drive me a little nuts with the teenage angst and drama, but I can live with that.

While Rachel and Kevin were suffering through school, dreading their ortho appointment this afternoon, Char and I went in search of a gym. The dojang pool has been drained and the weight equipment sold off, so we need a place to work out (home pool isn't adequate for her needs; not enough walking space before the deep end starts, and it's cheaper to join a gym rather than keep the heat as high as she would need it all winter.) I haven't been a gym member for 15 years, and the last time I was a member of one it was wall to wall steroidal meatheads and aerobics bunnies dressed like cheap whores.

We found a couple of those, but I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of gyms out there now. Most of them I would have been comfortable working out in, but Char nixed several because the womens' locker rooms were dirty (gross times ten) or because the pools were too cold or in disrepair. We wound up at what used to be the quintessential muscle head place, Gold's Gym; it's now family friendly, classes the kids can take if they want, Alex can work out with the weights, any kind of weight system I can think of, the locker rooms were spotless, and the pool met Char's standards.

We picked he kids up a little early for their appointments (Alex tagged along beause I didn't want to have to go back to get him; Char can drive but she doesn't want to drive alone just yet.) It looks like Kevin will be in braces longer than Rachel, but that didn't make her feel any better. She's taking all this very personally, and I'm a bastard because I don't seem to have much sympathy.

I likely do not have as much sympathy as I could, but it's not as if she was going to have to wander aroun in headgear for the next year. Half the kids she knows have braces; she'll fit in just fine.

It's not the Lexus convertible I wanted or the sports car Alex was hoping for, but we're back to two cars and now that Char is driving, we have options. (This isn't even the actual car, this is a picture I pulled off the Internet, but that's what it looks like.)

She has no intention of giving up the SUV; she says she feels safer in it, and if that's all it takes to make her feel better when she's behind the wheel, I have no problem giving it up. Safe was the main reason I bought it; the convertible I had at the time freaked Rachel out and the bigger vehicle made her feel better. Now it makes Char feel better. So it's all good.

Still, I'm the one who gets to take Kevin and Rachel to the orthodontist tomorrow; and even though Rachel suddenly feels "sick" unless there's a royal fever involved or she pukes blood all over the place, she's going. I can't seem to make her understand she's not coming home tomorrow with braces, it's just the initial exam, but she's positive that life as she knows it is ruined forever.

It's only ruined for about two years, and maybe the mouthful of metal will keep those squeaky boys away for a while.

Today I reaffirmed my position as World's Meanest Dad. The kids had dental appointments and Rachel and Kevin got the news they kne was coming but wanted to pretend they'd never actually hear: they need braces.

To Kevin this is an inconvenience; he doesn't want them but he'll deal with it. To Rachel, the world is going to end on the day when she has to have them actually placed in her mouth. And I am the cruel bastard that refuses to tell te dentist she doesn't really need to see an orthodontist on Friday, and failing that I'm supposed to tell the orthodontist that her life will be ruined if she's forced to have a mouthful of metal for two entire years. Jacking up the level of unfairness is that Alex has perfectly straight teeth and he has been spared the indignity of having to go through this dental hell that she's being dragged kicking and screaming through.

The next couple of weeks are going to be so much fun.

Rachel is fairly passive; she was a holy terror when she was a toddler, but she outgrew it by the time she was four or five, and is now sweet and funny, and typically agreeable and fairly quiet. Don't get me wrong; she's a tough kid, but she doesn't talk back and she listens to reason.

Alex will argue, Kevin will argue; Rachel just doesn't work that way, so when I heard her arguing with Char last night, I was frankly surprised and determined to stay out of the way. I kept my ass glued to the sofa and watched TV with Alex and Kevin and pretended I didn't hear a damn thing.

It worked until Char came out, and with a look that said don't you dare agree with her told me to go talk to my daughter.

It's never good when the kids are "my" kids.

I didn't get two feet into her room when she erupted It's not fair! Alex was shaving when he was twelve!

WTF?

When Alex was twelve, he didn't have a choice. He had enough facial hair that he was violating the school's dress and standards code.

But why was I being dragged into an arguement over shaving? So of course I said the most stupid thing I could. You don't have a mustache.

Give me credit here; I heard them arguing but I didn't know about what, and I am not usually witness to the removal of unwanted feminine body hair. It's not something I typically think about. You say 'shaving' and I think of the routine I go through every morning only because Char wants me clean shaven these days.

My daughter now thinks I'm a moron.

I am a considerate moron, because when she lifted a pants leg and said Look! I have a forest growing here I didn't laugh at the baby fine peach fuzz. All I could tell her was that if her mother said no, then the answer was no.

I don't see the harm in letting her scrape away hair no one else can see, but Char assures me Rachel doesn't need to and should not start shaving yet. I'm also warned that the next fight will surely be over the wearing of makeup, and if she comes to me and I tell her it's fine...

That's all I got, the trailing voice and a finger pointed at me. It's accompanied by that look, so I know where she's going with that thought.

It's wrong that I am somewhat amused that Char and Rachel are going to start butting heads over stupid shit the way Alex and I do, isn't it?

We make a point of trying to not run interference in our kids lives any more than is necessary; we’ve given them the tools to cope with bullies and people with whom they have disagreements and we’ve given them the foundation of socially acceptable behavior and manners. We’ve also given them a healthy respect for the adults in positions of authority over them. If they have doubts about those adults, they know to come to us.

We also understand that there are times when kids will not, for reasons that can only be understood by others who have not yet fully developed cognitive reasoning, go to one of their parents or to an adult they can (or should) trust. We understand the hierarchal system of the teenage caste, and the truth that he who rats out another will become a social pariah.

The dojang has been closed for the last week and a half while we move into the new school space. Without the three or four day a week reminder and ingrained fear, some of our students will devolve into old habits; those who were especially timid prior to beginning training will feel isolated and allow the shyness to creep back up on them, and those who had tendencies towards bullying will find themselves inexplicably picking on old targets.

Most of the time we hear about incidences after the fact; when we’ve been closed for repairs or for much needed time off, students come back whispering about each other, and we overhear. We use those off handed tales as structure for lessons to be taught and learned, and it doesn’t take long for them to snap out of the delusion that they are always completely right or completely wrong, and to get back to the business of learning to control themselves.

That is what this is mostly about, after all.

It should have come as no surprise that one student, who has not been training long, would fall back into old ways quicker than others, and that he would be thoughtless enough to carry that behavior off school grounds. Give a kid a driver’s license and a car, and you give him the world; you also give him the ability to drive over to someone’s house whereupon he can renew his harassment.

Damien is sixteen going on twelve; he’s now completely terrified of Alex but he is also hung up on Alex’s girlfriend and is still smarting over the fact that she would not even considering going out with him. In his stunted brain, if she could not see his overwhelming charm and personal worth, then there must be something wrong with her; if there is something wrong with her then it must be exploited and turned against her. If she is humiliated and cries, all the better.

This kid can’t seem to think beyond the impulse; he has followed her home from school and stood near her front door making masturbatory gestures, he has circulated rumors about what he wishes she had done with and to him as truth, he has lied to her friends about things she did not say about them, and he continued to taunt her with mooing sounds as she walked through the school hallways (but only when Alex wasn’t around.)

Over the last week he has made school for her a miserable and degrading experience; none of the kids involved would go to the principal, and Damien has been careful to instigate these personal attacks when he knows there will be no one to readily spring to her defense.

I don’t believe he has the guts to lay a hand on her; Damien is a bully who does not have the temerity to follow through; his bravado is linguistical and he’s too afraid of the pain of being hit to risk anything more. Still, he’s not smart enough to know when he’s pushed one time too many, and he may not be smart enough to realize he needs to take a step back. He may get physical without intent.

Alex has a considerable amount of self control; he has a healthy respect for the rules. He is also a teenager, and had no intention of sharing the details of what was tanspiring with his parents, or with anyone other adult who could help him. He intended to handle it himself, though how he expected to accomplish that was never quite clear. We only know about it now because Stephanie rode home from church with us this morning, and Damien was crusining up and down her street; when she saw him, she burst into tears. When Alex saw him, he wanted to get out of the car and beat the holy hell out of Damien.

No, I didn't let either of them out of the car; I wanted an explanation. When I finally got one, we turned around and took her home with us. This afternoon I found myself giving Alex permission to bring Damien to his knees if the situation requires defending Stephanie. If he lays one hand, one finger, on that girl anywhere near Alex, I will not fault him for acting on it.

To that end, too, Alex, Rachel, and I spent the afternoon in the old dojang with Stephanie; she needs to learn at least basic self defense. Teaching her where to hit and how, and what stereotypes in defense might best be avoided is the easy part. The difficulty lies in making sure she understands that she is worth defending, making sure she has given herself permission to fight back, and to hurt him if she has to.

Too many people, women especially, have never given themselves the permission to put themselves first, even in defensive situations. It’s one of the sad facts one learns in teaching women; typically women are not willing to do some of the more effective defensive techniques because deep down they don’t want to hurt anyone, not even the person attacking them.

But, that’s another issue and one I grapple with daily.

Stephanie’s father is on board with this. Until the dojang is reopened and I have Damien under my instructional thumb again, she’ll come home with us after school and wait there for her father to get off work. We’ll spend time working on self defense and keeping her and Alex a healthy distance from each other.

What I will not do, what her father cannot understand, is kick Damien out of the dojang. He’s immature, irresponsible, reckless, thoughtless, and a first class bastard, but he is redeemable.

One step out of line, though, and he’s at Alex’s mercy.