When Monster Chases Turn Ugly

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In honor of Luik’s 3rd birthday today, I think it only fitting that I share a recent story about him.

One of the most frequent games played in the Hopper household is “Monster,” (with “Wrestling” being a close second). Because our ground floor is circular in design, I am able to chase the kids around the house, hoist them off their feet, and slam them into any number of couches, all-the-while playing the part of a ferocious, flesh-eating monster. (I love my job).

The game started out with Eva a few years ago, when she was just learning to walk. Something about a full grown roaring man scaring the pee out of a one-year old just sounds wrong. No wonder we grow up with issues. Of course, Eva’s top speed was about 2mph. A speed which I could easily keep up with. Now, however, she’s turned out to be quite the athlete. Thus today’s version of Monster is a full-out NASCAR race around the house, with daddy getting hurt far more often then the zippy, dwarfish Oompa-Loompas with a lower center of gravity.

The other night Eva was careening through the kitchen when suddenly she hit the floor. Down. I mean hard. I didn’t even have time to reach out for her.

Scream. Tears.

Then Luik came around the corner. Staring.

I could see him thinking. Putting it all together. Then a little smile crept over his face.

I stooped down to help Eva up when I noticed the floor was slick. I mean like someone sprayed silicon on the bottom of Chevy Chase’s sled. And that’s when I noticed the bottle of cooking spray on the ledge beside the stove. Then smelled my fingers. Artificial butter.

“Luik, did you spray this on the floor?”

“Yey!”

I do my best to stifle a deep laugh, but Jennifer bursts out hysterically behind me. Great. Reinforcing my son’s sabotage of his big sister. Now I’m laughing.

Eva takes it upon herself to start cleaning it up with a towel while Luik looked on. The next thing I know, Eva falls right on her face. Again. And Luik is no where to be seen.

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Happy birthday, Luik. I love you and all your sweet international spy skills. ch:

5 Tips on Collaboration

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To some, the word collaboration makes them feel threatened. To others, it’s how they operate in life on a regular basis. But no matter what your perception of the word, in some way, shape, or form, you will eventually collaborate with someone on something. Whether you’re a stay-at-home mom making brownies with your three year old (quite the task, I know…just watching the aftermath made me want to stay out of the kitchen), or a business executive planning your next acquisition, at some point you’re going to have to work with others. And it’s probably safe to assume you already have on multiple occasions.

Successfully learning how to navigate the waters of co-laboring can turn collaborative efforts into gold mines of creative output, where failing to will dig wastelands of “I’m never doing that again as long as I live.” With the reality being that if we are to be successful in life, salesman, architect, mom, musician, or pastor, embracing a few fundamental rules on the Kindergarten concept of “playing well with others” can go a long way in helping. Here are a few I’ve found to be helpful:

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1.) Designate a Point Person. In any project, there needs to be a person with whom the proverbial (and sometimes literal) buck stops with. No Utopian communal program here. All projects need to have an executioner, the person in a place of command who says it’s done. Creative types will want to tweak it for the next twenty years, and even then it won’t be “finished,” while pragmatists will have it functional it a day (even if it is ugly as sin). In both extremes, the Point Person has the ability to prompt a team to go to greater lengths while also knowing when to put the operation to bed.

2.) Consensus, Not Unanimous. I was once taught that “unity is not uniformity.” Unity, rather, is being able to agree on the same goal, regardless of method. If your goal is to get everyone to agree, have fun. To quote Mr. Scott, “I [You] just can’t du’ it, Captain!” One of the reasons a team is strong is because they all have different opinions (at least, that’s how you should pick members of a good team when you have the opportunity). Instead, look for ways to get a consensus on a particular issue; while everyone may not be in agreement that it’s the best way to achieve the goal, they will be able to agree that it’s the most common means given the group’s diverse members.

3.) Compromise Promotes Ownership. Similar to #2, being able to relinquish your own opinions–even when they are legitimately the best–is an essential quality of good leadership. I recently heard a Christian church leader say that the only two instances they will ever interrupt someone they’ve given a task to is when the person is either not producing any results over time, or is theologically in error. While the net result may not be what you want it to be, allowing people the opportunity to let their ideas be the ones that stick ultimately promotes team unity, and therefore pride in project.

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4.) Share Canvases Carte Blanche. Most people feel that when someone criticizes their work, they are criticizing them personally. But for those experienced with separating their personal identity from their creations, having someone analyze their efforts undoubtedly brings strength to the finished concept. Developing a smooth system of passing work back and forth, from vision to manufacturing, is also critical. When writing books with a co-author, we share one master Scrivener file; when designing graphics for a church campaign, we play PhotoShop tennis; and when writing new material for a CD, we trade MP3 files like baseball cards (with a bit less drama). In all cases, we do not “track changes,” or keep a list of what we did; the team has the ability to do whatever they want to the work. No questions asked. This ensures everyone gets a say, and as the work is passed around and around and around, it begins to become “our creation,” not “my creation.”

5.) Open Air Policy. One of the best policies that Senior Pastor Kirk Gilchrist put into place at New Life Christian Church, is a strict “open air policy.” Meaning, we say what we mean to say, and everything stays in the open. No grudges, no harboring resentment. This must be tied with a deep feeling of genuine love for the other teammates (or at least trust to some degree, if “love” is too strong a word given your situation). But knowing I can say anything about any idea is incredibly freeing, and actually lends to the efficiency and effectiveness of the collaborative process.

Remember, a better result can always be expected when you’re collaborating with people at their best, submitting their best. I deleted a few further tips (and might save them for a future post) as I didn’t feel this was supposed to be an exhaustive list, but rather something to reflect on in the midst of your current team project, or one you’re about to leap into. Read this post for more thoughts on leading teams.

What collaborative effort are you in the midst of right now? ch:

My Parenting One Liners: “When We Should Scream”

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If you’re a parent, you know exactly what I’m talking about. It normally happens around moments of correcting the sub-humanoid life forms that dwell in your house, eat your food, and are able to stuff just about anything down the heating vents in your floors. Brief moments of frustration, your mouth engaging, followed by a long silence as both your spouse and your child look on at you in awe. And you stare straight ahead. Because your child has no idea what you said, and your spouse is trying desperately to keep from laughing.

In the CUV (Child Utility Vehicle for you poor souls who still drive “mini-vans”) during our Saturday outing yesterday, Evangeline started screaming. I mean really screaming. I looked in the rear view mirror. Turns out she just had an eyelash in her eye. You might say, “Well that hurts!” Except she got it out in less than two seconds, and then was just fine. Quiet as a mouse.

Jennifer says, “Sweetie, you are over reacting. Next time, use a little self-control and don’t yell.” A good example of fine parenting advice.

But then I have to speak. I’m the dad.

“Eva, you need to stop screaming over little things. We only scream…when we’re dying.”

I tried to suck the words back into my head. I don’t know why I said them. I just did. I don’t even have experience in dying. I was just trying to be a good dad.

Daughter looks ahead stupefied. Wife tries not to laugh. Perfect. ch:

The Wrong Shampoo, Snoring, and the Cruel Irony of It All

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A few days ago I reach down to “my corner” of the shower (the one with one bottle, not twelve), and pull up a new shampoo. Timely. I had just run out, and I’m married to a wonderful wife who always keeps me stocked up. Obsessed with good smelling shampoo (the real reason I still use it), I decided to see what my bald head was going to indulge in for the next few weeks.

But what caught my eye was not the flavor. It was the type of shampoo. Or rather, the type of hair this particular shampoo is used for. Shampoo. For long hair. And better still, shampoo for people who have apparently had, or are intending to have, a long term relationship with their long hair.

I have neither. And worse yet, it even mocked me in Spanish.

But the personal products story is not over. In an attempt to curb my hellacious snoring via the Dutch nose I inherited from my father, my wife bought me Breathe Right Strips. Only my genuine excitement for my wife’s long-awaited peaceful night’s sleep motivated me to apply the strange fitting latex band. A glorified Band Aid really. Why don’t I just spend less money and stick a Dora the Explorer bandage on my face?

I read the directions, stuck the thing over my nose, then went to sleep. Hoping for the best.

Surprisingly, my nose was unusually clear during the night. Deep breaths. I liked it. And not as uncomfortable as I would have thought. So much so, that I forgot I had it on when I woke up at 6:55am to the word “Done!” coming from the other bathroom. Done is the one word my kids use to signal Jennifer and I that, “Hey, Parent, I’ve just pooped a lot on the toilet, I lack the needed motor skills to properly wipe myself, and I really need you because I’m tired of sitting here with this smell I’ve created.” I climb out of my bed, walk into the hallway, and find Eva sitting on the toilet. Waiting. As I reach down to do the deed, she says, “Dad, what the crap’s wrong with your nose?”

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Note to self. Remove Breathe Right Strip before wiping 4 year old’s butt. (Why wasn’t that on the directions?)

I crawled back into bed only after sending Eva to try and “sleep in” on this Saturday morning (a term I don’t think she’ll ever quite grasp, as she’s this morning-guy’s daughter). I’m just about to enter my REM stage when something wakes me up. No, not “done” again. Not my 5 month old telling the whole house he’s hungry. Not even my 3 year old playing WWF off the rungs of his crib. What was it you ask?

Jennifer. Snoring.

And when asked how my Breathe Right Stripes worked? She said, “Uh, I think it was louder.” Nice. ch:

Single: The Lost Ones

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Wayne Thomas Batson and I are pleased to announce the official release of The Lost Ones, our new single for the Curse of the Spider King. We batted around the idea of putting it on iTunes and numerous other online providers, but felt it was better simply to offer it to you directly through our websites. For free. If you’d like to donate a dollar for the song download, that’s appreciated, but please don’t feel obligated. This is a small ‘thank you’ to all those of you who have been so faithful to help promote our works through your enthusiasm. ch:

“The Lost Ones”
Music by: Christopher Hopper
Words by: Wayne Thomas Batson & Christopher Hopper
Performed, Recorded, Mixed & Mastered by: Christopher Hopper
Sprig Records 2010

DOWNLOAD “The Lost Ones” (5.9Mb)


Are Status Updates Old Hat to God?

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I spent extra time on Twitter and FaceBook this morning in place of my morning run (the snow, freezing rain, and high winds kept me in bed at 6am). Granted, I have a few thousands status updates to wade through, if I were ever to read them all, so normally I’m on both clients for under 10 minutes a day, reading just a few and updating my own.

But as I was standing in the shower, I had a revelation about social networking. (Yes, most of my profound revelations come in the shower). Twitter and FaceBook are not new to God.

There is no way I could possibly keep up with the amount of people I “Follow” on Twitter and the number of “Friends” I have on FaceBook. The task would be a 60 hour per week job. If not more, should I do it justice. And yet those I “follow” are but a handful of the millions of users out there, and those users are but a fraction of a percent of the world’s population. And by virtue of the fact that they are even on a social network, that also means they own a computer, and are therefore among the world’s top 1% elite. And for all our tweeting of “concerns, situations, and problems,” when compared to an AIDS orphan in Zambia, they (I) have no real problems to update anyone about.

Yet, God gets all of my, their, and your status updates, and picture uploads, non-stop, with or without a computing device. I hate to trivialize peoples’ suffering to a social networking term, but sometimes the easiest examples are the best.

The heavenly Father not only gets countless trillions of status updates from billions of people each day, but He also feels as close to them as we do to spouses, parents, or children. Our “Friends.” He is an intimate. He formed them in their mother’s womb, and has genuine interest in their welfare. I find such pontificating staggering, a crushing weight on my chest.

Perhaps social networking is not a new technology to humanity, but rather an antiquated, marginalized glimpse of how the Maker of the Universe observes mankind. ch: