Grinding

There comes a point in RPG games where you have to do repetitive, easy battles over and over to get XP and/or money so that your character can move on to the next Big Boss Battle. This process is called grinding.

Right now, Tuesdays with Cleo is in a process of grinding until we level up.

This consists of me mastering the fundamentals of childcare while Cleo inches up the development chart to the point where we can do more strenuous activities together such as bicycling or taunting carnies. I've been winging the dad thing and getting by, but there comes a point where you have to go back to ground zero and work on your basics.



For instance, I need to truly master the art of child transportation.

As I've mentioned before, H is a lot more adventurous than I am with Cleo. I think she's at an unfair advantage in being able to keep pre-heated food on tap for the kid while they are on their journeys, but it goes beyond this.

H has an innate desire to suddenly change things up. This drives me mad when, for example, I'm cooking and I suddenly need something like, say, oven mitts, only to find they have been moved. I find little comfort in later being informed, while running my hands under cold water to ease the searing pain from having grabbed a hot dish with an inappropriately insulated towel, that the new location is far superior.

That's the mission?

After the burns heal, though, I'm usually forced to admit that the new location really is much better. That's the trade off. If left to my own devices I would complacently live in a stagnant situation, never knowing that things could improve 100% with a minor change to my life just because I was too apathetic to even make the attempt.

So when H recently got a new stroller for the kid, the BOB Revolution, I grudgingly committed myself to mastering it as soon as possible rather than avoiding it.


The test mission: To start from getting BOB out of the trunk, shop at Whole Foods, and then walk the .5 miles from Whole Foods to Grant Park and back.

The view from my window clarified this as a good Portland day. And by good I mean cold with grey skies but hey, it's not raining. And obviously Cleo was happy and eager to get started.

First was getting this thing out of the trunk. Thankfully, H did share some wisdom and I kept Cleo in the car seat while I puzzled this. You would think that a childhood of playing with Transformers would have better prepared me for this...

After a fairly minimal amount of swearing, it was on to Whole Foods. Cleo was immediately unhappy and began crying a lot, so I cheated. The shopping trip was to involve a number of things on my list including celery. What I got was... celery. I maintain that I completed my first objective of shopping. Then came the walk. As you can no doubt tell, Cleo enjoyed this part immensely.

I'm doing a much better job these days of not stressing out that I'm going to massively damage Cleo in some way, but every time a new variable is added into my life, I regress. Unlike our old stroller, BOB faces away from the parent, allowing your child to experience the world. For me, this meant stopping every block to make sure she was comfortable and warm and constantly checking on Cleo through the plastic window on top of the stroller.

I feel like I'm being watched...

Ultimately, I ended up bending the rules here too. I had an ideal in my head of showing Cleo the statue of Henry Huggins and his dog. Once I accomplished the technicality of making it to the park, though, I promptly turned around, rushing the screaming kid back. And of course, after my tactical retreat due to her loud protestations, a block away from the car she falls asleep.

Thankfully, all of our adventures end with coming home with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. I leave you with a pic of Cleo after our return where she really captures the sense of basking in our collective sense of accomplishment.