Middle Adulthood (40-65)

            Middle adulthood is allegedly the period when the first visible signs of aging begin, such as gray hair, balding, and wrinkles.  As I write this, I am 36 years old, rapidly balding, and have numerous white hairs threatening to turn my dark hair “salt and pepper,” so I’d say I have a head start on this phase—no pun intended.   The text mentions the popular trend among middle-aged men of shaving one’s head to minimize the appearance of baldness.  Several of my relatives and acquaintances have taken that route, but because of my rather large ears, it is definitely not going to be an option for me (unless I want to look like Dopey the dwarf or the kid on Mad magazine).   

            Middle adulthood is also the period when needs for personal life satisfaction merge with requirements for career satisfaction, according to the text.  I believe that is something I foresaw when I chose to pursue my doctorate degree, and it’s one of the main reasons why I chose to do so now.  I realize I will only be satisfied with my career in the long term if it allows me to enjoy my personal life too.  Specifically, I recognize that as I enter middle adulthood and my children (now 7 and 4) get older, control over my time is going to be a primary concern.  Furthering my education is a step toward achieving the autonomy I need in order to be available for my family as well as enjoy leisure activities.  It is those people who enjoy a variety of leisure activities in middle adulthood who see retirement as an opportunity rather than a difficult transition.  I have seen my father begin to make a healthy transition into retirement through his continued active involvement in outdoor activities such as hunting and fishing, and hope to do the same myself.

            The inevitable transition when our children leave home is more likely to be a difficult one for my wife, as she is home with our children now.  That is why I frequently encourage her to think of furthering her education after our youngest is in school, as well as to continue enjoying hobbies and other outside interests.  Another inevitable transition will occur as our parents begin to age and depend on us for their care.  We recently sought to ease that transition by moving closer to my parents’ home.  Now that we are next-door neighbors, not only will we be there for them when they need us, but our children will benefit from their influence, we’ll benefit from their support, and they’ll get to enjoy our children’s growing-up years.  With our little boys nearby, I can assure them that post-retirement boredom will definitely not be an issue. J

The Early Adult Years (20-40)

     As I type this, I am 36 years old, in the midst of my early adult years.  I can easily say these have been the best years thus far--not always easy, but great years.  At age 20 I was living in Baton Rouge, attending college, and very much independent.  Some would say I was the textbook picture of "infinite energy" with a "notion of invincibility."  I wasn't involved in any of the risky behaviors the text suggests, but did enjoy repelling from cliffs in my college ROTC days.  (I still enjoy wreck diving and black diamond skiing on occasion, but am no daredevil by any means, and always employ extreme safety measures in every "risky" activity I undertake.)  That was the year I met the young woman who would be my wife--an entirely new kind of risk-taking for me, but one I'm very glad I took.

                    

     Jennifer and I dated for three years, and were married in 1998.  We've since had two wonderful sons together and built every facet of our lives together as a team.  She is my scuba buddy, my traveling partner, and my co-adventurer in life.  Most importantly, she is the secure foundation that allows me to venture out boldly in the world.  I can personally attest to the statement in the text that, just as a responsive caregiver encourages exploration in an infant, a responsive partner provides a secure attachment and nurturing foundation for an adult.  With that foundation in place, an adult is more likely to have the motivation and confidence to venture out and try new things (Solmonson 2009).  I like to say my wife is like an aircraft carrier and I am an F-18.  Because of her, I am free to engage the enemy on any front, knowing at the end of the end of the day I can retreat to my globe of invulnerability.  

       That freedom and support have allowed me to pursue and develop expertise in a wide range of professional endeavors over the years.  I received a Bachelor's degree in Cardiopulmonary Science and worked as a Respiratory Therapist for seven years at a university teaching hospital and trauma center.  During that time I also obtained a Masters of Health Sciences, then decided to pursuing a nursing career.  I received a second B.S. in Nursing in 2004, and began working in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, where I am currently a staff nurse.  While there I became an instructor in the Neonatal Rescuscitation Program and one of the few nurses at my facility certified in extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO).  Within our NICU, I began a program to reduce blindness in neonates through conservative oxygen administration, and with my wife's support, was able to travel to Russia in 2008 to teach that program to physicians in Moscow and St. Petersberg.

      I am currently working on my PhD in Nursing, and involved in developing new theories to address the problems I see every day.  I agree with the text's analysis regarding expertise and creativity.  All the expertise in the world is of little value without the fluid competence to utilize that knowledge in new ways to address any given situation.  Critical thinking skills are the key to this fluid competence and are an integral part of my theory of fluidity, an organizational theory related to fluid dynamics.  I hope to publish that theory next year, along with completing my dissertation on the experiences of fathers in the NICU.

    Whatever I may or may not accomplish in life, I am first and foremost a husband and a father.  My family is my biggest accomplishment, and my biggest blessing-- the safe "home base" that makes all the rest possible.

The Adolescent Years (12-18)

Age 13, with siblings

There is very little about the typical adolescent woes that I can relate to.  I didn't struggle with peer pressure, alcohol, drugs or sexual pressures, and I experienced very few of Stanley Hall's (1905) hallmarks of "normal" adolescence.  I do remember, however, spending large amounts of time alone in my bedroom working on models and listening to music.  Unconsciously, I suppose this was a form of "refusal of socialization."  "Celebration of youth culture" is the only other theme described by Hall that I can somewhat relate to, although the activities I enjoyed were not appreciated by the majority of my peers.  Hall defined this theme as "sense of solidarity based on sharing of fads and styles by others in the same age group"  (Solmonson 2009, p. 122).  My best friend and I shared the same taste in music (Van Halen, Whitesnake, Dokken, Stryper, Bride) and both enjoyed playing computer games for hours on end, and there was a certain solidarity in those shared activities.

Age 15, ROTC

I believe my relationship with my parents was a big reason why my adolescence went as smoothly as it did.  I can attest that parents do play a key role in helping children to develop both independence and autonomy.  In my teen years, while I became more separated from my parents, I still remained securely attached to them in the sense that they continued to provide a great deal of support and encouragment.  I think my parents also did a good job of allowing me to experience failure.  Because they didn't bail me out, I learned to cope with failure in life, while in a secure environment.  I've had many friends since then who seem to have trouble with this, probably because they didn't learn to handle failure in their adolscence, and quite possibly because well meaning parents protected them from it.  This doesn't mean I don't expereince failure as an adult, but I believe I have efficient coping mechanisms in place, another debt I owe to my parents.  Lastly, regarding parental influence, my parents taught us to do things for ourselves, even if they could have done it faster themselves, whether it was cooking, ironing, or registering for college.  This is the best way to teach responsibility, and something I intend to imitate with my own children.

Age 18, with Dad


In terms of identity development, I didn't do a lot of experimenting before settling on my niche.  I did play football in middle school, but realized in high school that I wasn't a jock, just a fat white boy on the defensive line, and shooting guns was a lot more fun.  My niche turned out to be the JROTC rifle team.  We traveled around the state winning numerous competitions, something I truly enjoyed.  In my Junior year, I competed on the varsity rifle team and our group won first place in the region, second place in the state.  In my Senior year, I was Commander of our rifle team and won 1st place (Top Shooter) individually in our region.  Those were good times.

The Middle Years (6-11)

     As with most people, the middle years were a time of rapid growth and change in my life, not just physically, but socially, morally and intellectually as well.  I believe the most significant influencing factor in my life during this time was the presence of my two younger siblings.  As the older brother, I took very seriously my responsibility for these two little people.  Our interactions not only prepared me to function socially in society, but also laid a foundation of leadership skills I would use into my adult life.

     My sister Heather, roughly four years younger, was someone I protected and taught everything I could.  Our playtimes together in my elementary years taught us both about sharing, taking turns and being sensitive to another person's the feelings.  Then when I was six and a half, my little brother Dwain came along, and my education in patience, anger management, and forgiveness began.

By age 10, I had taken interest in building model airplanes, Lego models, and other detailed projects, so I had quite a collection of highly valued objects.  It was those prized possessions that caused the most strife in those years, since my brother frequently mistook them for toys.  On more than one occasion he literally destroyed in a matter of minutes a model I had worked on for hours a day over a period of many weeks.  Needless to say, I was furious.  But he was my brother, and I loved him, so I learned to forgive, be patient, and keep my treasures on a very high shelf.

     By far the most traumatic event in my memory of those middle years also involved my little brother.  It was Saturday morning and the three of us, 10, 6, and 4, were in the front yard playing.  We wanted to play golf, but having no golf clubs or golfballs, decided to improvise and use baseball bats and a softball.  I apparently didn't realize my brother was standing beside me, and as I swung, my bat hit him square in the jaw, knocking him out cold.  All I remember is picking him up, screaming for my parents, and crying.. lots of crying.  As far as I knew, I had killed my baby brother.  We all spent the day in the emergency room, where we learned his jaw was broken and would be wired shut for weeks, but otherwise, he was okay.  Although Erikson attributed guilt vs. initiative to the period ending at age 6, I certainly did struggle with guilt following that incident. I was quite disturbed for a few months, but with the encouragement of my parents, I eventually moved on, forgave myself, and went on to become a very initiative-driven middle-schooler.

In terms of industry vs. inferiority, I believe inferiority won our in the classroom, but industry ultimately won out in every other area of my life.  I wasn't particularly industrious, successful, or popular at school, but was enough of all three at home and at church to more than make up for it.

 

The Early Years (0-5)

I was born in 1974 in Temple, Texas, while my father was stationed at Ft. Hood as a helicopter pilot in the Army.  I was named Donald after my father but called by middle name "Anthony" for most of my growing up years.  My mother had been told she would be unable to have children, so as the first born I was considered a "gift from God" and reminded often of how very special and loved I was.  We were a middle class family with all of our physical needs met, and my mom was always at home to give me her undivided attention.  I believe I had the ideal environment for physical, emotional and social development during this phase.  My mother's consistent presence in my life provided the familiarity, empathy, and trusting relationship that young children need to thrive emotionally.  Mary Ainsworth would likely have classified me as demonstrating "secure attachment" behaviors.  Because my mom was consistently responsive to my needs, I learned the world was a safe place to explore and that people could be trusted. 

When I was 18 months old, my father finished his active duty military career and our family moved to Shreveport to be close to my grandparents.  When I was 3 1/2, my sister Heather was born.  I remember this as a very happy time.  I adored my little sister and never felt threatened or jealous--it seemed my mom had an endless supply of love and attention for both of us.  No matter where my family lived, we were always actively involved in our "church family," a network of adults and children where we socialized, received support, and worshipped together.  I have good memories of the early years in Shreveport, particularly of attending our church preschool where I made several lifelong friends.  I spent a lot of time outdoors during this time, and one of my most vivid memories is of an afternoon on the backyard swing.  I was apparently unaware of the danger of insects at that time and allowed a wasp to sting me multiple times, an episode that launched a lifetime fear and hatred of all stinging insects.  To this day I will spend large amounts of money, time and energy assuring the death of wasps, hornets, bees and the like, and will run or jump at superhuman speeds to get out of their path.  In a sense, this was classical conditioning at its finest, a learned response to stimuli brought about by my undesirable experience.

When I was four, our family moved to Heavener, Oklahoma where my father worked for the KCS Railroad. I have good memories there also, where I attended kindergarten, played T-ball, and learned to ride a bike.  I recall  the day we rode to the general store in downtown Heavener to buy me a new bicycle, and I insisted on riding it home, while my mom and sister rode home in the car.  Erikson would say that I was able to establish autonomy, rather than shame or doubt, during this stage.  I believe my parents did a good job of fostering confidence in me by allowing free choice and encouraging independent play during this time of motor and cognitive skill development.

Speaking of free choice, the story is frequently told of my trip to WalMart with a neighbor, for which my mother gave me a dollar to buy a matchbox car.  In the parking lot at the store, I spotted a truck selling fresh corn, five ears for a dollar, and insisted on buying corn instead of a toy.  They say I came home smiling from ear to ear, very pleased with my purchase.  In the next stage of Erikson's psychosocial theory, one would say this showed initiative rather than guilt, as my parents had obviously instilled in me a sense of responsibility.  Because they were always supportive of my ideas, I learned to develop my own plans and act on those plans.  I'd like to say I'd progressed to Kholberg's second level of "conventional" morality, seeking the approval of others for my actions, but this was a purely preconventional decision based on immediate personal gain-- I just liked corn.