I recently shuffled stuff in my home office, and the other day I got around to hanging my big, huge, oversize whiteboard on the wall again.

So, we'd had a really rough day -- hectic, busy, crazy schedule kinda thing; mom was away at some work thing, and so I decided to make a very concerted effort to hang with the kids all evening and make the most of it. It was a blast -- we had a great time, they had a great time, we did stuff together, they did stuff together (my goodness, at one point they were playing a board game -- with each other -- without fighting or accusing each other of cheating). Bedtime rolled around, we headed upstairs and while they got themselves ready I took a second to check email. While I was working they came in to tell me they were ready, and then they discovered the whiteboard. Oh, what fun. Big, virgin surface.

Now, normally, it would have ended up with another shoving match, or a fight over the red marker, or a "hey, you erased my bit, so now I get to punch you in the side" kind of thing, but tonight was just special. They stood side by side and doodled a bit, Lea wrote down the names of all her favorite horses, Lucas wrote down the names of his favorite cars... and then the most amazing thing happened: they spontaneously started writing nice things about each other. Now, understand: we haven't yet made it to that part of our family meetings yet, so this is really uncharted territory. But as I turn around now, I have: "Lucas is awesome and really great at Monopoly hes the best brother you could ever have" over on one side of my whiteboard, and "Lea is really cool she is fun to play with and is nice to me she is the best" on the other. And I'm not sure what to do, because on the one hand I need my whiteboard, on the other hand I don't want to erase this, ever.

I even got my very own shout-out: "Dad is awesome he lets me do stuff some parents wouldn't and he left me make choices that some parents wouldn't make the kids do so he is is AWESOME". Okay, so he spelled it ASWOME, which really is just even cooler. I like being an aswome Dad. Sure beats being a grumpy old nagging nay-sayer. And from a kid who has been giving me the eye-roll and the heart-felt "whatevah" for months, it's pretty big stuff. I'll eat it right up, and ask for more.

As we finally, six months late, get our act together and dive into our lives as a Parenting on Track family, we can't help but become a little evangelical. During DNSN week, we'd have occasion to explain to friends what was going on in our lives, and while we couldn't help do so with a tinge of deer-caught-in-the-headlights "we have no effin' clue what we're getting ourselve into here" shock and horror, we still managed to convey our sense of adventure and excitement about this new journey. And we'd run into fellow travellers who had either dabbled in or completed or considered or heard of the program, including the great friends who got us turned on to it in the first place.

It's always great to have soul mates/partners in crime when you embark on something this epic, and as I click my way around the new world of POT blogs and find musings by parents across the contry, it's remarkable how helpful and encouraging it is to read about others who are grappling twith and mastering the same tough issues as we. Then Vicky throws something like this in the mix, and we realize just how lucky we are to have found her to guide us along the way. Thanks, Vicky, we've neeeded a guide on this rough ride for some time now, and it's great to sense that we're no longer lost in the wilderness.

Oh, who's counting -- actually, today's birthday party for Lucas involved 12 fifth and two third graders. Quite the crowd. At one point, as I was wrangling them all thru the locker room and showers at our local aquatic center, I couldn't help but marvel at the obvious differences in abilities and level of organizational skills and social competencies. I wish I could claim that Lucas impressed me with his newfound POT-inspired capabilities, but he was really too busy revelling at being the center of attention, high as a kite on the social buzz. Nothing gets him going like a crowd, he is the quintessential extrovert, and for me as the exact opposite I've come to realize (buttons, buttons) that I have a very hard time relating properly to his need for constant social interaction, for the thrill of the group dynamic. Why do I have a problem with that? Partly a fear of how it changes him, how he becomes some character out of Animal House whenever he's with his buddies and they really crank it up... the classic male group dynamic, where the IQ drops as the numbers rise. I extrapolate from what I'm seeing now with a bunch of rowdy 10 year olds, and I envision horror scenarios of completely irresponsible 16 year olds being rude, risk taking, obnoxious morons... I've got to let go of that and learn to let Mr. life-of-the-party find his own limits and learn his own lessons. Tough.

Huge, enjoyable highlight this week: Lucas and his 5th grade class are doing a Greek unit, and part of the exercise involves making a Greek dish. Lucas announced this enthusiasticlally a few weeks back (a good sign -- he could just as well have hummed and hawed about this "stupid food assignment"), and he was particularly adamant that HE had to make the dish without our help. So a few days ago, he set off to make his Greek salad. We had worked together to find out what he needed in the way of ingredients, and I went off and bought feta and olives and salad for him. So far so good. Then he got to work, slicing and dicing, with me just hovering to give the occasional tip or suggestion, but it was all him and he was fiercely proud of the final product. I was acutely aware of really stepping back and letting him get in the driver's seat, and it was just thoroughly enjoyable to share in his sense of accomplishment but also be able to point out that he really had done the whole thin on his own.

Why are we so eager to "do" for them in the mistaken belief that it'll give them more time to "have fun"? Now that we're "doing the Vicky" it seems so obvious that we're doing them a huge disfavor by "doing" all the mundane stuff -- and much of the fun stuff, too, without having much fun getting it done -- when in fact, we should be sharing the tasks of life with the kids and teaching them to enjoy and have fun with even the most mundane aspects of living life.

I confess, our second week which was supposed to be about buttons and activating events was to some extent marred by (surprise!) an extremely hectic schedule for the big people in the family, and there was precious little time for much reflection. Add to that Lucas's 11th birthday celebration, and things just didn't quite go as I would have liked. Having said that, we're sufficiently committed to the POT process -- not to mention encouraged by what we saw during DNSN week -- that there was stuff to learn this week.

First off, it is remarkable how much of the "revolutionary" independence from week one has stuck with the kids. They're still largely getting up and ready on their own in the AM, and even though we made it quite clear at family meeting last Sunday that the DNSN element was over, they have taken ownership of their lives to an extent that I would not have expected until much later in the process after much more trial, error, and fine tuning.

Buttons. Let me make two quick observations first. One, this was helpful to read. We're not unique -- others have been where we are and dealt with it, others are where we are right now and dealing with it, creatively, inspiringly. Secondly: everyone has buttons. This week is about the buttons we as parents let get in the way of living in harmony with our kids and allowing them to be who they are and do what they can as individuals and  members of our family. But it has reminded me to be considerate of their buttons, too. The things we do that sets them off. The things that teenagers roll their eyes at: "oh, Dad, there you go again with your..."

This week also gave me pause to appreciate how much our kids are capable of doing, all the battles we don't need to fight, all the things they do that "meet our approval" and does not push buttons. We tend to forget about that and focus on the flaws and the shortcomings and the perceived failures, but huge credit needs to be given to our smart and supremely capable kids for all the things they are able to do.

Monday was a write-off with MLK day -- lots of vegging out. Lea dealt really well with the disappointment of a playdate falling thru at the last minute, and had a blast with a good friend ski-joring and playing dress-up. Alas, the fine art of putting stuff away when you're done playing is still lost on her, so this morning I'm finding wigs, sunglasses and fake fangs everywhere. She can clean that up when we get back from skiing this afternoon.