It’s getting down to the wire – December 21st as I begin this year’s letter. The first day of the Christmas holidays for the kids. They are decompressing after nearly four months of school, Linds is meal-planning for the holiday, and I am in my office taking a break from my own studies to ensure, yet again, that we have a record of the goings-on for the past year. A lot has happened!
Perhaps the biggest change is that the Poyner offspring exodus has begun. Back in the spring, Owen graduated from high school with a 98% average, an acceptance to U of T’s Engineering Science program, and several scholarships to help with the shocking costs of living and learning in downtown Toronto. There isn’t much that phases Owen, but delivering his Valedictorian speech in front of a gym full of students and parents definitely tested the limits of his easy-going demeanour – especially since he ran as a joke, never thinking there was a chance he’d win. Of course, he knocked it out of the park.
Two months later, we were moving him into his apartment on Yonge St. in Toronto, Linds filling his fridge and freezer with home cooking, me trying to wrap my head around the finances of everything, and all of us wondering how many times he would absent-mindedly step into traffic or get lost on his way to campus.
Back home, it still doesn’t feel right setting the table for five rather than six but Owen is loving his life in The 416. Engineering Science is the hardest of the hard, designed to find, test, destroy and, ultimately, expand the cognitive limits of it’s students. As Owen says, “It’s a love-hate thing.” The glory days of grades in the high nineties are over, but Owen has no doubt that he’s in the right place.
Jake is now 17, in his final year of high school, and is blowing our minds with how much he has matured in the past year. After a bit of an employment hiatus last winter, he was able to secure a part-time job at Eastside Marios working in the kitchen. He takes all the shifts he can get, never calls in sick, and has even done some financial planning, setting a good portion of his earnings aside in a GIC so that he has spending money next year – so proud!
At the same time, Jake has been putting a ton of effort into his schoolwork with the goal of getting into Aerospace Engineering next year. Truly impressed with the effort we’d been seeing at home, Linds and I went to parent-teacher interviews last month, hoping they had noticed the same thing. We heard the same theme from all his teachers: “He’s like a new kid this year!”, “So smart, but also so respectful and hardworking!”, “He’s a real pleasure to teach!” In his favourite class, Automotive, where they do real repairs and maintenance on real cars, Jake was voted by his peers to be the most valuable student. This was no surprise to his teacher who told us how Jake’s knowledge, skill, and attention to detail made him one of his most trusted and capable students ever. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do without Jake next year.”
On top of all that, Jake stays well-rounded by being active in both rugby and football. One day in late September, however, he came home after a football game to show me his left ring finger, which was swollen and bruised. I was 99% sure it was broken and this was confirmed with an x-ray the next day. The worst part, though, was that it looked a little rotated, meaning it would likely have to be reduced (aka “set”) by an orthopedic surgeon.
Sure enough, at the fracture clinic, the surgeon broke the news.
“It’s just not straight enough. I’m going to have to twist it back.”
Jake: “OK”
Surgeon: “I can freeze you, but I have to warn you that it doesn’t always work 100%.”
Jake: “That’s fine. You don’t have to freeze it.”
Surgeon: “You … You want me to just do it now?”
Jake: “Yeah. I’m here now. Let’s just do it.”
Me: “You sure, Jake? It’s going to hurt.” (I’ve reduced hundreds of fractures in my years as an ER doc)
Jake, sounding like the two physicians in the room are making a big deal out of nothing: “Yep. Go ahead.”
So, the surgeon gets ready and with Jake watching the entire time with a straight face, cranks his finger around. The only sound was the faint moist crunching of bone edges and periosteum getting back in alignment.
We turned to Jake.
“So, when can I play football again?”
Ben is halfway through grade ten and all the way to catching up to me in height. We have a measuring stick we use to record all the kids’ heights over time. It’s about six and a half feet tall and, and this rate, I hope it’ll be enough for Ben You would think our grocery bills would have gone down with Owen out of the house, but Ben has made up for that – and then some, eating double portions of just about everything.
The growth spurt has advantages for Ben’s new sport too: polevaulting. Just like everything else Ben puts his mind too, he has dedicated himself 100% to being the best polevaulter he can be – with great results too. It’s a surprisingly nuanced sport; everything from grip to starting position to the transfer of energy from horizontal to vertical – it’s as much mental as physical.
Perhaps that’s why polevaulting is so well-suited to Ben – he’s a very well-rounded guy. He has a solid group of friends, gets excellent grades, composes electronic music in his spare time, and is up at 5:00am most mornings to get a workout in before school. I guess we shouldn’t complain about his appetite. It takes a lot of fuel to keep a guy like that going.
Eli turned thirteen in August, which means we officially have no “children” left in our house because they’re all teenagers. Everyone knows you have to be a little careful with teenagers. Sure, they can be a little volatile, opinionated and impulsive. But, let’s be real – those things aren’t so bad, and they’re also hilarious, interesting, and constantly surprising us with their knowledge and skills.
Eli is a great example of that. Back in the spring, he decided to enter a project he’d been working on into the regional science fair. He’d been researching, designing and building flexible, durable, and affordable prosthetic hands using readily available technology and materials. It had started as a school project but the rabbit hole was too tempting and Eli dove in. Months later, with dozens of 3D printed and silicone prototypes in hand, Eli entered the science fair with a slick tri-fold board, models to demo, and a brain chock full of knowledge.
He left with $500 worth of prize money, beating out many senior high schoolers and sweeping the engineering awards. But most valuable of all were the conversations he got to have with the judges and engineers who came to his booth for a quick look and ended up staying for 20 or 30 minutes at a time to discuss ideas and research with Eli. He ended the day with new engineering friends, some of whom he’s still in touch with, enough money to buy a new 3D printer, and the realization that he’s no longer just a kid playing around with cool stuff. That science fair might have been a launchpad for a pretty exciting future.
Eli continues to work on the next version of his prosthetic hand and is looking forward to entering next year’s science fair. Part of the challenge he set for himself is programming the microcontroller, so last summer he did what anyone in his position would do and signed up for an online undergraduate computer programming course at Harvard. Yes, that Harvard. He’s just finishing up his final project. What a kid.
A lot of parents fear the teenage years – and we’ve had some tough times too. But Linds and I agree: this is the most fun we’ve had as parents, by far. Maybe we’re a little more chill because, to their credit, it looks like the boys are going to do okay in life. Maybe we appreciate them a little more because Owen leaving has made us realize how little time we have left with them at home. Whatever it is, we’re loving this stage.
Boys, you’re reading this too . . . actually, you’re always the real target audience for these letters. So, maybe you’ll think I’m being a giant sap for saying this stuff, but I’m okay with that. When kids are young, it’s the parents who determine the culture of the family. Now, our family is what it is because of you. How cool is that?
Okay, last but not least, let me pull myself together and give you a quick update on Linds and I.
Linds continues her work with the other wonderful ladies at Big Words Little People. After completing additional training in literacy (to be clear, Linds already knew how to read and write; the course was about teaching those skills to kids!), her caseload is now almost entirely in that area. Not easy work, but she’s amazing at it.
Another big win for Linds over the past year was that she found a local gym that she loves, so now she’s got a regular exercise routine to go with the great food we all continue to be spoiled with. We even jumped on a plane together for the first time in five years and did a little exercise in Arizona in the form of numerous day hikes. It was so nice spending a week together in such an amazing place. You can read more about it HERE HERE and HERE.
As for me, the most important development is that I grew a beard (no, I don’t have a picture). Turns out, it’s not just a matter of not shaving. There’s actually a fair bit of work involved if you don’t want it to look like someone ran over a hunk of steel wool and glued it to your face. At first, I wasn’t sure if I would keep it, but I have to admit that after a few decades of having no hair to comb, brush, or style, I kind of like it. Besides, it’s kind of fun hopping on a Zoom call with a client I haven’t seen in a while and, for the first few seconds, I can see that they’re wondering if they entered the wrong meeting.
Along with beard-growing, my financial planning business has been growing too. Canadian physicians are leading the charge in a widespread trend, seeking out unbiased flat-fee financial advice. By nature of my background and involvement in the community, this has led to all kinds of really interesting and rewarding opportunities to help people understand money better. Perhaps the biggest challenge has been balancing financial planning work with my course work to get my CFP (Certified Financial Planner) designation. On that front, I’m happy to say that I’ve passed all the courses and finally eligible to write the exam. Apparently, it’s a tough one, so wish me luck!
Alright, we did it! This is our life, or at least an incredibly biased sampling of stories and events from it. Linds and I walk Phoebe, our golden doodle, every morning and evening, chatting about the details but also zooming out and revelling at the stage we’re at. When the kids were young, no matter how fast they were changing, it felt like it would never end. Now, it feels like our time with our boys is always just about to end. But we’re not sad about it (not much, anyway). We’re grateful for them and each other and all the other amazing people we have in our life.
Thanks for sharing our year with us. We hope you have a wonderful holiday.
Love,
The Poyners