On Why No Kids

Chris and I have two remarkable sons, Patrick, 18, who just completed his first year at UMASS-Amherst; and Alexander, 13, who's just wrapping up seventh grade, who will rarely appear in any of these posts. It's not that we wouldn't love to have the guys with us, nor is it true that Chris and I are trying to create a couples' only thing, but the truth of the matter is that neither Patrick nor Alex want to participate in the activities that Chris and I find fun and invigorating and rewarding. The boys certainly aren't sedentary--Patrick plays Legion baseball and works out and runs and snowboards, and Alex is a three-sport guy who snowboards and dabbles in wiffle ball and trampoline--it's just that hiking and kayaking and snow shoeing hold no interest to them. We do ask; they consistently tell us no. They are polite about it and always ask where we went and what happened when we get back, but it's always no and always a firm no. I've often wondered why it's always no and why no kids come with us.
     Both guys have tried kayaking and hiking and snowshoeing, and we've gone ziplining and biking and tried fishing, but nothing's ever caught their fancy. With Patrick I get the sense that there's no challenge or no goal as in a win or lose game. He doesn't seem to dislike kayaking, for instance, rather it seems that while he's doing it there's no involvement beyond the physical exertion. Chris and I marvel at nature and the surroundings; he puts the paddle in the water and moves forward, and then he eats to replenish the expended energy. He doesn't seem struck by the activity or the connection to the world while on a body of water. Alex is much the same way; like Patrick, he does the activity but doesn't engage in it. He's kind of like, "Alright, I'm here and I'm paddling and I'm in the water and . . . what's the big deal?" To be fair, Alex did have a really negative kayaking experience a couple of years ago on Harriman's Reservoir in Vermont--a heavy breeze started and Alex was going three strokes forward and two strokes back and he had less-than-zero fun--but other than that there's never been any injuries or disasters or anything that would leave a mental or physical scar on either of them that would make them fear the sports; there's been nothing like that; they just do not want to participate.
     Perhaps one of the reasons for this is that after playing competitive sports, where there is always a clear-cut and relatively meaningful goal to achieve, where the reward of their physical effort results in a clearly tangible end like a basket or a base hit or a touchdown, and where they can experience in a very real way "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat," the outdoor activities that Chris and I enjoy are simply too non-competitive: there's no goals, there's no results, there's no adrenaline. We participate in our activities for a very different reason than they participate in theirs, and those reasons are diametrically opposed. Ultimately, then, I guess all that we can hope for is that once their competitive-sport days are over--as they inevitably are for all of us--they might choose to participate with us in the activities we do. Hopefully, we won't be too old to get that time together.
     Another reason I think that comes between the activities we do and the boys' participation is a bit more insidious: video gaming. It seems that to a 13-year-old killing Nazi zombies is more thrilling than watching a heron stalk prey; the 18-year-old is more interested initiating "double kills" rather than busting a trail through a foot of fresh snow. I don't play video games because I never mastered the techniques and the games are just not interesting to me, but my kids and their friends, with whom they communicate during play, all love the games and they are all very competent at them. I don't have a big thing against the games, but the problem I percieve is that once the boys have left their competitive-sport careers are they going to develop an interest in the outdoors, as I hope they do, or are they merely going to play more video games, which, as we all know, get more challenging and more difficult every generation? That is the question, and I'm fearful that the answer is they'll continue to see video games as the competition activities they lost. But video games don't broaden one's life experience or take one to new places, they merely rehash and redo skills they've already mastered: Is killing computer-generated zombies a truly rewarding life experience? I'm fearful that the ease with which one kills zombies or Nazis on TV will replace the challenge of doing relatively physically-challenging activities such as hiking or biking. I really don't want to see my oldest at 30 forsaking an opportunity to kayak with his Mom or Dad in order to stay home and play Modern Warfare IX.
     So I don't really have an answer for why the boys won't play with their Mom and Dad--in the end maybe what we do is just not cool enough--but I've decided that part of our outdoor experiences include being part of their outdoor activities whether it's baseball or football or whatever, and thus all those events become part of this blog. Why, just the other day at the ballyard, Alex came up with no outs and a kid on second . . .