Sweet Home Mt Pleasant

Evan and I passed a pleasant week at home in Troy visiting with friends and family. There were several highlights to the trip, as usual, but the best ones involved seeing Evan play (or attempt to play) with other kids.

We spent one afternoon swimming in my cousin's pool, with little cousins Jack and Alexander-- Evan whined and refused to wear swimmies or sit in an inner tube-- that day ended with me smacking his bottom and yelling, "STOP WHINING!" We went to a BBQ at my friend Chris' house-- Evan stayed busy playing with the sprinkler and the little pool, ignoring the little girl closest to his age, who, when we left, solemnly vowed, "Eben, I'll call you,"; he was also fascinated by the size of baby Beatrix's jowls, and tickled them intermittently.

It was most interesting to watch Evan's waxing and waning interest in his cousin Lincoln. They were friends or foes. Evan was either chasing Lincoln around the house, trying to hold his hand, or hoarding all the toys and telling Lincoln, "Nonononono," every time his dimpled one-year-old hands reached for something.

Anyway, this is sure to be a long post, because I haven't even gotten to what I really wanted to write about, which is how I know, for sure, that I am getting really good at my job teaching study skills.

One of the things we attempt to teach our students is how to deal with distractions. We remind them that mental distractions can be just as difficult to overcome as physical ones-- and, in some cases, even harder. You can always go study somewhere else if your roommates are playing their music too loud, but it's a lot harder to get up and walk away from racing thoughts or emotions. Some people don't know it's possible to control these things, or at least to put them off, until a certain task is completed or a specific goal is reached.

Case in point. I had a full day of readmittance interviews on Tuesday. During my lunch hour, I got a message to call home. Turns out my dad had been taken to hospital on Monday night because he was having chest pain. That's all the info I had. Many things raced through my mind, such as: oh my god, my dad had a heart attack; my dad is going to die; my dad will never be the same; I'll really miss my dad; I love my dad, at least he can die knowing this; well, even if my dad is going to die, he had a great week last week with his kids and grandkids at home with him-- he can die knowing we loved him... these thoughts-- paired with traditional funeral images-- kept running through my mind. But then I said to myself: "Wait a second. Calm down. You can't worry about it too much yet, you don't even know what caused the chest pain."

So, in those moments, I was putting into practice one of the very things that we try to teach our students. Focus on the immediate task, the one that demands your energy and attention in the present, and DO THAT THING-- not the 1000 other things that tug at you. And, while it was hard to keep it under control the rest of the day, I managed to conduct the rest of my interviews with a high level of success by reminding myself that it wasn't time to worry yet.

It turns out my dad didn't have a heart attack. The chest pain was caused by pericardiaitis, an inflammation of the lining surrounding the heart, and it was treated successfully. He is already recovering at home!

(Aside: did I marry a gay man? Andrew said he was watching the baseball game. I hear echoes of Project Runway coming from the TV room)