Matthew Winkler and his son, Logan, are traveling all 50 states to create a unique 6th grade of school. Read earlier installments here.

Heading east from Denver, we pass fields of towering windmills, stretching from the horizon to the very edge of the highway. I point them out to Logan, but he ignores them. He’s seen them before. At the outset of this trip, it was exciting to ‘boldly go where we had never gone before,’ but at some point it became passé. Same highway, different state.

As we cross our own tracks in Kansas City, I realize that we have come full circle in many other ways. When we set off last September, I questioned the “classroom” format, venturing into home schooling territory and even experimenting with online classes. Now I’m searching for a middle school where Logan can enroll next fall.

Logan used to hate school, but now he’s ready to go back. The volatile fuel of discontent and innovation that launched this trip has burned away, and we are gliding back down to earth. As we activate our landing gear, the anticipation of our homecoming overshadows the novelties along the home stretch. Logan would rather see his cats, dogs, friends, and Legos than the Kentucky Derby hoopla.

At the peak of our journey, I felt like we could keep it going indefinitely. “50skatekid tours the world!” we used to joke. But, closing the loop geographically, we’re also completing a full cycle of attitudes toward education in general, and this trip in particular. It has run its course, served its purpose, and I’m glad there are only fifty states! After months of vagabond adventuring, I just want to sleep in my own bed, beside my patient, supportive wife.

“Imagine a world where the mother and father of a newborn baby don’t have a laundry machine in their building. Imagine onesies covered in drool and sundry fecal matter building up in the laundry bin. Imagine these tired parents loading it all into a wire cart and walking it down to the “Two-Way Laundromat” down the street. Imagine them picking it up later in the day, freshly washed and folded to the tune of $40. Imagine them doing this four times a month.”

Certainly, there are joys that come with living in New York City. But there are also very painful realities. One is that we’ve lived in an apartment for two years without laundry. This after living in Chicago with laundry in our condo. But with a baby on the way, this pain-point will become all the more agonizing. Of course this is nothing compared to the problems other parents are having around the world, but it’s our little challenge, and naturally we obsess about it.

So we’ve been spending the last few weeks trying to find an apartment with a washer/dryer. Through Craigslist, local online parent groups, tips from friends, and yes, even those real estate brokers (who kindly charge 12% of a year’s total rent for ‘finding’ you a place).

All the places we’ve looked at had laundry, but they just can’t match the size/layout of our apartment. Couple that with the hassle of moving a month before the baby’s due date, and we can see that unfortunately our future is laundry-less.

So we will continue to dream of being able to do laundry anytime we want. And we will still look longingly at those shiny Samsung and LG washing machine TV commercials (the only ads we don’t skip on TiVo).

To you we say: please don’t take that washer and dryer for granted.

Have you had a baby without having laundry facilities? Any survival tips for us would be most welcome.

This Gawker posting got me thinking about Take Your Child to Work Day (TYCTWD) and my fond memories of it.

“School districts annually admonish TYCTWD as disruptive to education. They’re missing the point: This holiday sucks because the only thing more boring than their schools is your job.

…Most children who get taken to work end up sitting in a swivel chair, wheeling vacantly around the room while Mom manipulates a spreadsheet. Or listlessly shuffling manila folders while Dad’s secretary tries frantically to think of entertaining tasks. Kids don’t want to do this.”

I couldn’t disagree more. This Gawker editor obviously can’t override the typical “Snark Mode” and remember back to when TYCTWD was something we looked forward to as kids, no matter where our dad worked. He didn’t have to be a NASA scientist or Ron Jeremy to make any workplace seem far more interesting than another day of school.

My friend Brad’s father was a research scientist/doctor who studied hearing loss. We actually got to watch his dad put a hamster in a mini-guillotine and chop its head off so the inner ear could be removed for study. How cool is that? Way cooler than multiplication tables.

And at my dad’s law office? It was nowhere near as exciting as watching acts of hamstercide. But we did get to pretend we were lawyers, suing everyone in sight (it was, after all, the ’80s). We’d draft legal briefs on the typewriters, annoy the hell out of the secretaries, and bill a crapload of hours. And those three-martini (Dr. Pepper) lunches? They were the stuff of legend. [Pictured at right are me and my lifelong friend Jeff at my dad's office...Jeff has two kids of his own now.]

What do you remember about Take Your Child To Work Day? Share your stories in the comments section.

Over the course of the past two weekends, my wife and I attended twelve total hours of birthing classes. While there, I was confronted with things that I had been actively avoiding my whole life: graphic videos of women giving birth.

I estimate we saw videos of 15 women crowning and then delivering their babies. No doubt a miracle—just a very messy one. All of us in the class (men and women) cringed at the ‘crowning moment’—every time. I suspect that unless you’re in the medical field, it’s unlikely you’ll ever become desensitized to such scenes.

During each delivery, I’d have to cover my mouth as it would remain fully agape in amazement. I’d also cross my legs very tightly. It was the most physical reaction to anything I’d ever seen on a television (with the exception of “Mama’s Family“).

I can’t quite believe my wife is going to attempt to give birth without the aid of drugs. I respect her for that, and will totally understand if she does end up opting for medication.

Where will I be when my wife is in active labor? I’ll be right there next to her upper body, helping her along. And nowhere near the scene that’s happening on the other side of the sheet.

Have any of you watched your wife give birth? Was it transcendent?

Matthew Winkler and his son, Logan, are traveling all 50 states to create a unique 6th grade of school. They’re in the home stretch: just three more States to go. Read the other installments here, here and here.

When people hear about this trip, the most common reaction is “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard!” And then, after digesting the concept for a few minutes, most adults add, “What a great bonding experience for you and your son.” No doubt!

I considered myself a very engaged dad to begin with, but our mutual understanding and camaraderie has certainly jumped a couple of levels since our frequency of interaction rose to 100%. This has strengthened our bond in ways I’m sure I don’t even appreciate yet. As Logan advances through his teenage years, he’ll encounter sex, drugs, petty crime, and other adolescent pitfalls. In the wake of this trip, I anticipate that he’ll still feel comfortable confiding in me and hopefully even heeding my counsel. On the other hand, if we had spent this past year at home, our time together would have been restricted to my herding him onto the school bus in the morning, through his homework after dinner, and into bed at night. He’d probably have spent weekends avoiding school and anything associated with it, including me. Not a great launch pad for parent/teen relations.

In fact, I followed this typical path with Logan’s older sister during her early teenage years. I gradually transitioned from an authoritarian taskmaster to a background advisor as she grew up. I confess that I had trouble staying “hands off,” especially during the college application process last year. Ultimately, I decided that the worst-case scenario (a gap year) might really be the best next step in her personal growth. A senior this year, she dragged her feet until a New Year’s Day epiphany kicked off thirty days of scrambling for transcripts, teacher referrals, essays, forms, and fees before the February first college application deadlines. Could I have kept my mouth shut through the entire fall semester, while she procrastinated as the checkpoints on the college readiness calendar rolled past? I doubt it, so it’s probably better for both of us that I was out of town.

As another positive side-effect, my daughter and wife have had their own “bonding experience,” comprised of jointly running the house, nightly dinners for two, weekly chick-flicks, and plenty of estrogen laden, heart-to-heart talks about my daughter’s first boyfriend, her qualms about growing up, uncertainties about college, and melodramatic overreactions to the latest high school social crisis. In my absence, they even bunked together sometimes, talking late into the night. Although I missed them both during the past eight months, I’m glad I didn’t get in the way of this mother/daughter communion of souls.

2010 promises major life changes for our family. We’re planning to move to another state, my daughter will leave behind the security of her high school and childhood home, Logan will enter some new, unknown educational situation, and I’ll start a new job. These new challenges will cause tension, to be sure, but as a result of this past year, we’re well prepared to face them.

by contributor Rob Curtis

As a Dad who likes to get outside as often as possible, finding the best way to bring the little one along is key to everyone’s happiness. The goal is to get some exercise while opening up the world to our kids—and maybe providing a bit of comfort along the way. I happen to have an awesome hand-me-down Burley trailer that is pretty sweet. This is what I have used so far and is what I feel most comfortable with as my kid is harnessed safely; and in case of accident there is a roll bar to protect her from any further injuries.

Other options include mounting a baby seat on the back or front of the bike. While these are widely accepted, and I see many happy families pedaling along with this set up, there are a few reasons I don’t like them. First, the center of gravity you are used to on a bike is greatly changed, and second this set up provides less stability and overall balance for a casual rider. I always think of worst-case scenarios and one of those includes careening off the bike and leaving the child behind in mangled wreck of steel and plastic while Dad is picking himself up off the ground. A little far-fetched, maybe, but not out of the realm of possibility.

With a mind to finding safer alternatives, I’ve been busy checking out the options for family bikes. Most of these bikes fall into the cargo bike and long bike category. While the bike trailers and child seats work well for most of us, I believe that cargo bikes are the wave of the future for family biking in the U.S. (as the Dutch and others have been onto this for quite a while). Here are a few of the options I’ve come across:

The standard by which all other cargo bikes are derived is built by the Dutch: the Bakefits (middle right). While the Dutch are known for their extremely well-built bicycles, the price tag can scare away any potential suitor as the cost climbs over $3,000.

A newer company out of Salt Lake City is providing a more practical entry into the family/cargo bike arena Madsen cycles (lower right) that start at $1,299.

A really cool look for a cargo bike is the Metrofiets. They build classically designed bikes inspired by the clean lines of Danish and Dutch cargo bikes, but with modern components like hydraulic disc brakes and internally geared hubs. Not sure of pricing on these, but I’m sure it’s nothing short of $3K.

Another great resource for family/cargo bikes is out of Portland: Joe-Bike. While many of these companies are out of the west coast, I’m currently looking into east coast companies that are doing similar builds and will provide an update once I have had time to ride and explore with one.

While these are all great options, the cost of ownership and feasibility of frequent use must be scrutinized. If you’re embracing the changing transportation system around American cities and think you’ll ride enough to leave the car parked on most days, then why not get one of these rides as an option? However, for those who will only ride from time-to-time with the family, then a trailer is still your best bet.

What’s your family’s two-wheeled escape plan?

Rob Curtis is a dad, outdoor adventurer, bike commuter, telemark skier, golfer, and a wool maven. Connect with him on facebook, and twitter.

from a March 2006 issue of New York Magazine (photo credits: Ari Versluis & Ellie Uyttenbroek)

Way back in the day, New York Magazine featured an eight page article to coin a new slang term for the grunge/slacker dad: the “Grup” (short for ‘grown up’).

“He owns eleven pairs of sneakers, hasn’t worn anything but jeans in a year, and won’t shut up about the latest Death Cab for Cutie CD. But he is no kid. He is among the ascendant breed of grown-up who has redefined adulthood as we once knew it and killed off the generation gap.”

The current term for such folk these days is probably “Douche Dads,” but that’s a gross generalization: we all know folks like this and actually enjoy their company.

But the family picture at the lower right doesn’t sit so well with me. The Tommy Lee-looking dude complete with leather and bangs looks almost annoying as his wife: the one with a hip stuck out so far she’s about to throw her spine out of whack. And I doubt it’s just to hold the kid, even if her son wasn’t perched there, I’d imagine the hip flies out like that automatically to display “an outright rejection of your sad, typical lifestyle.” I really don’t think I’d want to hang with this crew under any circumstances. They seem to prove that there is now a new class of douche: “The Nuclear Douche Unit.”

My wife and I are due mid-June, and we have opted to take some non-required birthing classes. Not everyone feels the need to attend these, especially since a total of 12 hours of instruction spread over only two days seems a bit much. Besides, with all the books out there, it’s easy to be over-informed.

But what if you want someone to distill all the book info, making it easier to digest? What if you want to be reassured that people just like you are going through the same things? Well these classes might just be for you. Yesterday was our first six-hour class, and it proved to be a real eye-opener; and in some cases, a real eye-closer (like when we watched real, messy birthing videos).

Up until this point, the baby situation never felt very real to me. Of course, a ton of things were happening to my wife, and she could feel each and every one of those changes. I could see her getting bigger and more exhausted, and feel the kicks, but it never fully registered that this little thing has a one-way ticket to our lives and is coming to change it forever.

The thing that made the experience all-too-real for me was our first look at the “dilation chart” (at bottom of image). When I first saw this chart showing the range from one to ten centimeters, I laughed nervously. Then I became silently horrified. Then thought how amazing it is that the human body is even capable of such a feat.

If I hadn’t already sobered up seeing the videos complete with afterbirth, then this certainly did the trick. What do people say the male equivalent of giving birth is? Passing a golf ball through the urethra?

When did your wife’s pregnancy become all-too-real for you?

My wife has picked the perfect time to start watching “The Wire”: her third trimester. And she’s now a proud, full-time resident of “Bodymore, Murderland.”

She’s become addicted to the show, much like I did during a stretch of unemployment last year (I inhaled all five seasons over the span of a few weeks). Back then, my wife would come home to find me in a heightened emotional state, and couldn’t understand that it was because all my friends had been picked up, harassed, or shot by the police for slinging drugs in the low-rises. Couple that with the fact that my wife has never been a fan of violence, I just assumed the show wouldn’t be for her. How wrong I was.

Here, you can see her enjoying the first season of the show, holding her unborn child lovingly as she ingests episode after episode of violence (and awesomeness). I’m not sure if it’s going to help or hinder the baby’s development, but at least it’ll help my wife get through the last weeks of pregnancy.

In the meantime, she’s like Bubbles, wondering when she’ll get her next hit. Constantly asking me, “When is more Wire coming? Let me see the Netflix queue!”

What did your wife watch during her last trimester: Scarface, The Wire, or the Saw octology?

from our very close friends at Gawker and Dvice.

There’s a new Little Tykes “toy” that’s getting a lot of attention recently: the Young ExplorerTM. I’m not sure how recreating a workplace cubicle will make your child an “explorer” in any sense other than the Microsoft browser. Most of us would imagine an “Explorer” playset to be something a bit grander: perhaps a sailing ship bound for undiscovered continents. Instead, Little Tykes has taken a harder tack towards reality. Foolish parents can purchase this tech-heavy playset for the low price of $2600 to prepare the child for their inevitable future: a series of cubicle-based jobs.

Mom and dad can also role-play to further simulate the workplace experience for baby. Dad can be the sycophant who kisses up to Mom, the “pushy” boss. Both will heap paperwork, unrealistic expectations, and vitriol upon the child as they learn to succeed in this unrewarding environment. At the right, you can already see dad playing “clueless coworker trying to be helpful,” pretending to understand something he doesn’t.

Maybe spending a minimum of 8 hours a day at this playset will help the baby empathize with what his parents are going through to support him. And just imagine the enriching conversations you’ll share about the joy of switching from Vista to Windows 7!

‘First Crushing Job Playset’ Features include (I’ve added some in bold):

• Features:
  • Flat desk area
  • Crushing sense of futility
  • Left and Right built-in mouse pads
  • Bench seat that fits two children and offers storage inside for supplies
  • Frustrated co-workers
  • Malfunctioning Printer/Copier
    
  • Computer wiring stores safely inside ventilated cabinet.
  • Locking castors keep unit from rolling during use.
• Computer equipment features:
  • Competent, Non U.S.-Based Tech Support
  • Think Centre PC
  • Internal DVD-ROM
  • 160GB Hard Drive
  • 10/100 Ethernet
  • Microsoft® Windows (this is especially cruel)
  • Sound Card and 2 External Speakers
  • 19″ Widescreen Flat Panel LCD Monitor
• Computer Warranty: 1-year parts and labor.
• Pre-loaded educational software:
  • Millie’s Math House®
  • Sammy’s Science House®
  • Bailey’s Book House®
  • Mikey’s “Office Space” Interactive Movie DVD
  • Haley’s “How to Blow 8 Consecutive Hours and Leave Mommy Alone” Town
    
  • Sarah’s “Understanding Sexual Harassment” Place
  • Jack’s “Be the Boss: Aggressive Management Styles” DVD
  • Billy’s “Microsoft Office featuring Excel Spreadsheets” Funland