Raising Him Right

After watching one particular episode of his favorite cartoon, Connor asked 1.) if this game was for real, 2.) how do you play, and 3.) could we get it?

I gladly ponied up for both the Dungeons & Dragons Essentials Kit and the Young Adventurers book box set from Amazon. Strike while the iron is hot!

I’ve never played D&D before, although that’s only because I never had a group to play with (or maybe no one thought I’d be interested, so I never got invited to join). If Connor wants to play with me and his dad for his first campaign, one of us grown-ups is going to have to DM… and there’s an awful lot of rules to absorb.

Even though I kind of wish we could game with an experienced DM instead of going it alone, I also hope this is a fun thing we can do together as a family.

Except Aaron and I can’t seem too excited about it, or Connor won’t want to do it after all…

Spoon Theory

I really resonate with the concept of “spoon theory.” I’ve mostly heard it used in reference to people with chronic pain issues or other physical disabilities, but it can apply to anyone, really. The idea is that you start your day with a finite number of resources — willpower, focus, physical energy, what have you — and every action you take over the course of the day requires a certain number of spoons to complete. Some people need more spoons than others to get out of bed in the morning. Some people might get spoons back during their daily commute, if the solitude and the act of driving is something they enjoy, while others might lose a spoon or two between home and work.

It’s been a little surprising to me to learn what parts of my day require more spoons than others. (And sometimes I really shouldn’t have been surprised at all.) After working exclusively from home during the pandemic, then returning to the office for a few days a week starting in the fall of 2021, I discovered that I use a lot of my spoons on an in-office day. Turning on the interpersonal interactions requires spoons, as does switching mental focus from one task to another — or switching from working to talking to a co-worker, then bringing my attention back to my work task.

However, I find that sunshine and natural lighting helps these things require fewer spoons, and can even help replenish my spoons. The same is true for doing meditative tasks like gardening (with a sunshine bonus!), hand-sewing textblocks for notebooks, or hand-mending clothes with my darning loom.

Physical activity can also replenish my spoons, but when I’m low on spoons, I have trouble recognizing and acknowledging that I would really feel better if I went to Krav Maga class, or went into the basement to punch the wave bag and lift some weights, or rolled out my yoga mat and queued up 10 minutes of restorative yoga, or convinced Connor to go on an evening walk with me.

You know what else doesn’t happen if I’m out of spoons? A proper evening wind-down and appropriate sleep hygiene. If I don’t have another responsible adult nearby, I find myself laying on the couch after my son goes to bed, snacking and watching YouTube until long after I should have already been in bed. Yes, my Apple Watch taps me around 9:45pm to remind me that my Wind Down time is commencing, but I usually dismiss it and carry on.

If I don’t have to actively make a decision in any given situation — or if I can get myself into the mindset that there is only a single path forward — I find that it uses fewer spoons. For example, I don’t require many spoons to get out of bed in the morning because my bladder helps make that decision for me. On the other hand, if I’m low on spoons after a Tuesday in the office, I’m less likely to choose to go to Krav Maga class that evening and more likely to order out for dinner instead.

It’s all about mindset. Planning ahead and making decisions for myself when I’m in the right headspace. Clearing obstacles from the path for Future Me. Coming up with ideas for spoon replenishment in advance. Prioritizing tasks that will most benefit myself and my household.

Adulting… It requires spoons.

Living Dangerously

Baxter likes to weave himself in and out of the stair railing, often walking up the outside edge instead of up the middle like the rest of us.

He’s even been known to jump off the side of the staircase, although we do try to keep him from jumping from too high up.