Irresolute About Resolutions

With three kids, there is an excuse for everything.  Can't work out because we're too tired--kids are not sleeping at night because of teething, bad dreams, colds, or most recently split thumbs from sucking too much--or don't have the money to join a gym.  Can't eat healthy because it costs too much, takes too long to prepare, no time to plan.  Can't train for a marathon because of my work schedule and our neighborhood is not safe to run alone (for my wife).

So, with no time or energy, what should my New Year's resolution be?  I think that I think on too broad and general a scale.  If I am going to make a keep goals, they need to be like rungs on a ladder leading to an ultimate goal.  With three kids and my job, I'll just have to keep the rungs close together.  I can't work out an hour each morning, but I bet I can do 30 minutes or at least 30 of something, etc.  My wife and I have been talking about this for a while, and almost all day today.  We decided after a while to focus on just January, just one thing a week, with a reward at the end.  We'll see if we can be among the few, the proud, the keepers of New Year's resolutions.

*As I side note, one recent goal that is a high priority in my life is posting daily to this blog for at least the first year of my career. So far I have kept that goal for almost five months--128 days. My hope is that this will help me establish a habit of introspection about fulfilling my role as a father above that of an attorney.  This is not a New Year's resolution, if measured by the calendar, but it is a new year's resolution when measured by my start date as an attorney.

Mile Stones and Tribute to the Middle Child

Some mile stones today:

Our baby girl is now climbing stairs. Now we need to really keep our eyes peeled, and put the gate back up.

Our little girl is counting numbers and singing the alphabet a little bit on her own now.  It actually sent some chills down my spine.  Can she be this old already?  As our middle child, she's often overlooked.  So, I try to maximize the alone time I have with her at night reading books, wrestling, and laughing about nothing.  I catch myself staring at her while we are looking at books and thinking to myself, "She is gorgeous" or "she is so smart."  I've felt a special closeness to her for a couple of reasons.  When she was a baby I stayed in the hospital with her for a few days while she was getting treated for RSV.  The hospital was a short walk from the law school, so I would go to class and come back to be with her.  It was rough at first because she had no veins that were giving enough blood.  The nurses poked and poked and finally succeeded in getting blood and an IV in her head.  We had to hold her down as she screamed.  Later, she had to have a spinal tap.  I was alone with her holding her still.  Even after these experiences and many other pokes and prods, once she calmed down she smiled at the very people who poked and prodded her.  She was smiling all of the time, incredibly patient and loving.  There was nothing more heartbreaking than watching her go through all of that.  As she grew older, she developed an insatiable curiosity and an unbreakable stubborn spunkiness, even to the point of engaging in surprise wrestling attacks on me and my son, which we love.  As my wife is the same way, her personality immediately endeared her to me even more.  She is also very clever, with instincts that almost always get her what she wants, at least with me.  She also has a knack for teasing.  She always sneaks around, runs away, puts things on her brother's head (like books while he is trying to say his prayer at night), etc.  Finally, she is tender and loving.  From the start, she has always been sensitive of others' needs and naturally nurturing and caring, helping with chores, snuggling with us, taking care of her five baby dolls, trying to make the baby laugh, etc.

Here! & Grumpy Dad

Perhaps it is the way I eat dinner (or the shear amount I eat), but lately my kids have been handing me food they do not want expecting me to do something with it.  What they want me to do, I am not sure. I doubt they even care.  But I care.  I care that my daughter thinks she can hand me a chewed-up fruit snack that didn't taste the way she was hoping or that my son will hand me a piece of apple skin that was hanging off of one of the slices he was snacking on.  My son also tried handing me chewed-up gum that has lost its flavor.  I've obviously been too accommodating because all they say when they try to hand me these goodies is "here!"  Not so fast!  I don't want them and they know where to put them.  I could tell my kids were a little taken aback when that is how I responded throughout the afternoon.  But, there isn't much else as fulfilling as watching your kids throw their own trash away.

Bedtime routine is almost always difficult, especially because our oldest gets distracted so easily when we need him to change into his PJs.  I've never seen anyone take so long.  He's either talking or trying to squeeze in some last-minute discoveries before its lights-out.  Usually, not alway, but usually, I'm pretty impatient about it and tend to pester him a little with questions I know he can't answer like, "Why aren't you getting dressed yet?"  It shouldn't be such an ordeal.  In fact, I can think of several ways we can make bedtime more fun.  The problem is that I am tired by then, not merely from work, but also from wrestling and playing with the kids.  In addition, I always have my hopes set on ticking off items on my to-do list or just having time to relax before it gets too late at night.  Most importantly, I want to spend some time with my wife, talking about our day our just goofing off.  Time to do those things at night is scarce and precious.  The pestering, however, is hard for the kids to understand and, I've concluded, is ineffective anyway.  I'm proud of my son who stopped me during my pestering to ask, "Daddy, why are you acting so grumpy with me today?"  After some thought, I realized he had asked a question I couldn't answer either.  So I sat on the bed, held out my arms, and gave him a hug.  I confessed, "You're right.  I'm being a grump, and I don't have a good reason.  I'm sorry."  Looking back, he was probably getting fed up with it.  I kept telling him at the beginning of dinner to stop whining and repeatedly asking for Mom to get his chicken ready--when he's hungry, he gets pretty impatient.  Then throughout dinner I nagged at him to eat over his plate because he was spilling rice--it's something I nag about on a daily basis.  Even so, I was impressed that he calmly confronted me, and even stumped me.  I bet I'd be less grumpy if I did a better job at choosing my battles.

Mad Scientist

Our son got a science kit from his grandmother for Christmas. We performed some experiments today, including some involving volcanic eruptions. My son couldn't get enough of it. He would mix things on his own to try and make more eruptions. When I was ready to put things away, he begged me to do more experiments. On the one hand, I was starting to get worried that he had latent mad scientist tendencies. That remains to be seen. On the other hand, the thought that he could be a mad scientist actually made me proud--to be a mad scientist, he must be brilliant!

Man of the House

Today was going to be a long day at work. I left before the kids were up and came home right before they went to bed. I always feel bad leaving my wife for an entire day because there is so much to do with three kids. But on days like these, my four-year old son becomes the man of the house. He takes seriously the responsibility to take care of his mommy when I am away for the day. He seems to intuitively sense when his mommy will have a difficult day ahead of her and usually rises to the occasion. How grateful I was to come home late tonight to discover yet again that he was on his best behavior for his mommy (except for the first part of their trip to the grocery store). I always try to make sure he knows. It was especially helpful today because it is the dreaded Monday after Christmas and we were, at best, lethargic.

Neverending Story

We're now certain that regardless of whether we travel or stay put for the holiday, regardless of whether we gorge on sugary treats or eat healthy, and regardless of whether we stay up or go to bed early, we are at a stage of life where our kids will continue to get sick then get sick again as long as the weather is cold outside.  This time it was our son's turn to go to urgent care.  He is so stuffy that he has a red mustache of raw skin under his nose and is miserable when trying to sleep at night.  Our daughters also have colds, which means extra fussiness. No matter how often it happens, it's always heart-wrenching.  The benefit, however, is that they are often snugglier.  I did cheer up my son a little by putting on the karate outfit he made me to surprise him when he got home from the doctor's office.  It seems that no matter how horrible he feels, he can't resist a good fight with Daddy.  Either way, we should plan on being sick until the end of winter.  Then we'll progress to allergies in the spring.

My Favorite Gifts

My favorite gifts are my karate outfit and my Nerf sword.  My wife and eldest son found a white, long-sleeve workout shirt in my room, and my son wanted to turn it into a karate outfit like his.  So, together they cut a v-neck and down the center of the chest.  Then they velcro-ed the chest and cut another piece of fabric for my belt.  Finally, they found a pair of old white scrub pants to complete my outfit.  My wife is the one who put the sword in my stocking.  I've been telling my wife that we all need swords for Christmas.  Sword-fighting with the kids ironically brings us closer.  So, I'm excited to surprise my son soon by coming down the stairs dressed in my home-made karate outfit and start a sword fight.

On Christmas Eve we opened our PJs present.  I could tell my son was sad when I opened the PJs my wife and I had planned out and not the karate outfit.  Our son loudly whispered to his mother, "What about the karate PJs?"  Apparently he was hoping I would open the karate outfit.  We felt so badly that we opened the karate PJs right after that.  I thought it was so funny, clever, and thoughtful, even though it meant cutting one of my nice shirts.

There was actually another gift that meant a great deal to me today.  My son and I took some gifts to the pediatric inpatient floor of a nearby hospital.  After got in the car, I asked my son how he felt.  He was tired and pretty sick, but he responded, "Very happy."  He has felt the happiness that thinking of others at Christmas brings.

Silent Night; Not a Fight

There is nothing like being a parent of a four-year old, a two-year old, and a baby on Christmas Eve. We try to keep it pretty low key, so our traditions are pretty simple. But they involve a great deal of patience with messes and getting off schedule. On a typical day, my patience level is not very high and the kids do their fair share of ignoring us, which often leads to a bit of arguing. Growing up in a large family of red personalities, Christmas Eve usually included an argument of some kind, though we'd always make up and have a wonderful evening. Today, however, our kids were angelic. I couldn't get enough of them. We followed our traditional Christmas Eve schedule:

-Went out for a breakfast of bagels, donuts, or hot chocolate. This morning we went to Einstein's.

-Talked to family by video chat.

-Watched Christmas movies--the old animated Rudolf.

-Made Santa's cookies.

-Took treats to neighbors.

-Made personal pizzas for dinner.

-Acted out the nativity scene while reading Luke 2.

-Set out carrots for Santa's reindeer, including Rudolf and Chet.

-Opened a present--always a pair of PJs and a book. Our son was Toothless, the night fury, with a "How to Train Your Dragon" book. Our daughter got moon PJs and a moon book called, "Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me." Our baby got flower PJs and a ladybug book with a glove of ladybug finger puppets.

-Get into PJs and read the books on our bed.

-Set out hot chocolate and cookies for Santa.

A little anecdote about Christmas traditions. My wife said today that we should start a new tradition of making snowball cookies since this might be the last time we have Christmas in a state with snow. As you can tell from the list above, our current traditions already make for a pretty full day. So, I suggested that we stick with the traditions we have for now and put that one on the list for next year. I remember watching one of my in-laws' old family movies of a Christmas when my wife and her siblings were very little. One of my wife's siblings opened a present on the video and commented, "Too many presents!" I couldn't believe my ears. But traditions are the same way, they are fun at first but can quickly become cumbersome. Thankfully, we still have some room. Today, we filled it with a nice walk/hike with my son in the woods behind our townhome complex and watching a Santa movie with the kids before bed.

Some of the setbacks included forgetting pizza sauce. In the DC area on Christmas Eve it takes an hour to go to the local grocery store to pick up one thing because the traffic and the store lines are so congested. I went anyway. We were also so tired from late nights of preparation that I was falling asleep and didn't have much energy to wrestle with the kids. We decided to sword fight for most of the day instead. Still took a lot of energy, but it was a fun change in the routine. Acting out the nativity went well. We made it through Luke 2 very well, but nobody really acted out their parts. Our baby took off her costume, crawled away, and played with toys, while our two oldest just played with the baby doll in the "manger." Of course, some of the best things, apart from the sword fights, included how snuggly the kids were today. They were tired and snuggly at the restaurant for breakfast, and very snuggly while watching the movie tonight. Our daughter, who is just becoming conversational, was telling us that everyone needs popcorn and that she wants Santa pancakes for breakfast tomorrow. She also told everyone, "I love Daddy" as she snuggled up to me.

My favorite part came after acting out the nativity scene, when we took turns sharing our feelings about the Savior. To our surprise, our 4-yr old said, "I know that Jesus is our big brother and keeps us safe where we belong." He also listened intently to what we had to say. Our 2-yr old also mumbled something. What a sweetheart.

My wife and I put our kids to bed--they were excited to go to bed because Santa won't come unless they are asleep--and began cleaning and laughing about how great our day had been. Now it's off to help Santa get everything ready for tomorrow. I hope our kids don't get up at 4 am, like I used too.

Pre-Christmas Memories

The ransacked shelves at Target and the stressed and frustrated faces of fellow shoppers are just some of the reasons we've decided to trim our Christmas in addition to our Christmas tree.  I feel bad that those people are missing not only the meaning but also the fun of Christmas.  Our simple preparations have helped me enjoy experiences over the past several days that I may not have had or fully appreciated otherwise:

--My son getting mad at me for trying to peek in on him in his room because he was wrapping a surprise for me for Christmas.  He said, "If you try to come in again, I'm going to yell out loud!"  My wife told me he was so excited that he kept asking, "Can't Daddy just open it today!"

--Getting my 2-year old daughter up from her nap--she didn't sleep at all--and seeing her naked and holding out her diaper and saying "Look!"  I probably wouldn't have thought it was so funny had there been "surprises" in her bed as well.  We attempted to begin potty training but we got so busy that our daughter ended up wetting the couch.  Lesson learned--never try potty training during a holiday.

--My baby girl crawling over to the Christmas tree to pull off and suck on the bell ornaments on the lowest branch.

--Building a cardboard fireplace with the older kids.

--Falling asleep reading to my baby girl then waking up briefly to see that she had fallen asleep too.

--My kids' absolute love for Christmas lights.  They are all over the inside of our house, and our kids constantly turn off the regular house lights while we are cooking, cleaning, reading, or doing anything else that requires light, just so they can see the Christmas lights better.

--My son repeatedly requesting ice cream at dinner last night.  We had several reasons for saying "no," including his general disobedience today, his failure to eat all of his dinner, and his generous consumption of sugary treats provided at his preschool today.  Finally he told us that it wasn't because he wanted a treat, but so that he can be fat enough to dress up as Santa on Christmas.  

--Hearing my daughter over the baby monitor last night saying in her sleep, "I want cookie, Mommy."

--Joking with my wife about how happy she is when she cleans for Christmas.  She sings Christmas songs and literally dances around the house hugging and kissing everyone.  She reminds me of "Elf" sometimes.  She joked back that it's only because I'm not complaining about the fact that she isn't doting on me all day long, which is usually what I do on Saturdays.  You know the saying, "When momma ain't happy ain't nobody happy.  When daddy ain't happy nobody cares"--I may have made up the second part.  My wife joked that it should be, "When daddy ain't happy, momma ain't happy.  When momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Her point was well taken.  Now I have to figure out some way other than complaining to try and get her to dote on me all day long on days off of work.

--Seeing my two oldest wearing elf hats while my wife read them bedtime stories.

--Wrapping our traditional Christmas Eve present while watching a Christmas movie with my wife.

Back in the Booster

I came home from work to learn that my son has outgrown the need to listen to his parents.  Yes, it's true.  He demonstrated this several times by doing exactly what his mother asked him not to do only one second before, all while keeping eye contact with her.  Well, it came to a head at dinner time, when he wiggled so much in his chair--another thing we ask him not to do--that the chair fell over.  That was it.  We'd threatened him many times with going back in the booster seat if he couldn't sit still.  Tonight, we finally followed through on it.  He was vehemently opposed to it, resulting in some time to think about it in his room.  He had been given the choice to either do as we say or go to his room.  He said, "That is not a choice!"  We said, "That is the choice you earned."  Eventually, he submitted, with the understanding that doing so would earn him his big boy chair back tomorrow.  Tonight felt like a children's version of "Taming of the Shrew."

This may be one of the many challenges of having a four-year old.  Recognizing he is not the only one at fault, we both tucked him in tonight--without books, because he lost that privilege too--and we apologized to him and he apologized to us.  Then we promised each other that we would try harder to be patient and not loose our temper tomorrow, and he promised he would try harder to listen and obey (with some prompting, of course).  He is a good boy.  We're not worried.  But today was definitely a tough one with him.

Rice with Dinner

There are nights when I feel like we're just a family of monkeys.  We have a nature video that depicts a family of monkeys picking bugs from each others hair.  That's what I felt like tonight picking pieces of rice from my daughter's clothing.

Our Little Present(s)

Our family has a family night once a week where we do constructive activities together.  Tonight's was a Christmas activity.  With three kids under the age of four we have to keep it short.  But no matter how short we try to make it we always seem to lose our busy little toddler.  Sometimes it gets a little frustrating, especially when she ignores me when I try to call her back.  So, I had to get up and chase after her.  Before I could reach her she turned around and had stuck Christmas bows all over her tummy.  It's hard to stay frustrated when she does stuff like that.

I should also mention that our son planned a game for us to play based on the story of the brother of Jared.  He had us all get on the couch.  He explained that it was a boat that was dark and that we couldn't use fire.  Then he  brought aboard our stuffed caterpillar and said it was a stone that lights up because the Lord touched it with His finger.  He embellished a little bit as well by pretending his yo-yo was an anchor, but I was incredibly impressed and proud.

I don't want to leave our baby girl out of this post.  She no longer wants us to sing her to sleep.  Once the lights are out she cries and wiggles until I lay her down and leave her alone.  Although I miss some extra snuggling and even though she wakes up a half hour later, I'm grateful she makes the initial bedtime much easier on us.

Lack-of-Sleep Training

Our baby is probably the toughest baby we've had to sleep train. She goes to bed just fine. The problem is she wakes up an hour later screaming like someone is pulling her little hairs out one by one. We think part of it is that she is teething, which probably creates a similar sensation. Either way, it is heartbreaking hearing her cry herself to sleep again. One of the side effects is that until she does, there are four others in the house who can't sleep either. We just hope, since it worked for the first two, that our baby will catch on soon.

You're Not Fat

There have been many moments where I have felt a great deal of pride in my son. But today may have topped the list.  While carrying my son out to the car, my wife jokingly commented, "Carrying you around is good exercise for me, since I'm so fat."  My son quickly replied, "Mom, you're not fat!"  I'm glad I've set a good example in at least one area.

The Wrong Language

While driving home as a family from my work Christmas party my daughter dropped her water bottle and began to cry.  I wisely reminded her that we couldn't get up and get it for her while we were driving.  She cried harder.  Then my wife cut in and said, "Oh! What happened, honey? It's okay. We'll get it for you as soon as we get home." Then our daughter stopped crying.  How did that happen? My wife explained, "Even if you can't help her, you've got to make it seem like your going to." Brilliant!  I wish I spoke Mom sometimes.

When Does My Opinion Matter?

I've often joked at home that I don't exist at home other than as a toy.  They flock to me when it's time to wrestle, but they don't pay much attention when I ask them to do something.  In contrast, at work the judge and I felt differently about a point of law and I was able to persuade him to my view.  How is it that a judge can care so much about what I have to say, and pay me for it, while my kids could care less about what I have to say at home free of charge?  My wonderful wife jokingly drove the point home tonight at dinner when she said, "It's a good thing that your opinion matters at work because it doesn't matter at home."

Sweeping

As I was sweeping the dining room tonight there were a few crumbs that weren't budging.  So I brushed harder and harder, almost to the point of scrubbing, and they either become fixed to that spot or fly off in a different direction than I wanted.  Finally, I just brushed them lightly and for some reason they responded to the broom.  I've noticed days where my kids are like those crumbs, and sometimes they won't budge when I ask them to do something.  And when I push harder, they literally fix themselves to that spot arching their backs or dead-weighting.  Or they bolt.  Although it's hard to do sometimes when I get home from work, when I provide gentle guidance they respond.  An example that shouldn't have taken me so long to figure out is having our four-year old clean his room before bed.  He is a very clean little boy, but he gets out his books, games, and toys during "quiet time" (which is our non-napping son's version of nap time), and we usually don't have him clean it up when it's over.  I forget that for a four-year old the task seems daunting.  I know how hard it is to get started on a big task, so I eventually offered to help him get started instead of employing my usual exasperated approaches of, "Hurry! We're running out of time" or "Come on!" or "Hurry!"  It worked.  I was able to "sweep" him into cleaning his room.

The Adults Are Talking

I've been the third wheel before with people my own age.  I bet it's not much fun being a kid when the parents have friends around.  We had a friend over tonight, so I tried to include our kids more in the conversation.  It taught me a few things.  First, it takes a little longer for a child to articulate thoughts than it does for adults.  They are still learning the language so they take great care to construct their thoughts.  Second, adults have a hard time waiting for them to finish.  We often finish their sentences for them.  Or, we are thinking of what to say next while they are still talking.  Sadly, because we also have a better grasp of the language, we are also much less careful with what we say.  Third, if you give them the time they need to say what they need to say, they can hold their own pretty well in conversation with adults.  They grow confident as we take the time to listen because they can see that what they have to say is important to us.  But our natural impatience often yields the opposite result.

Worth The Price

To get your family out the door parents truly pay a price.  And doing it in winter weather is downright painful, especially when nobody wants to cooperate and everyone is crying.  I didn't cry, but I probably would have had it lasted a few more minutes.  To add to the stress of it all, we knew that we were taking our kids out into the cold night, that they could get sick again, and that they would get to bed really late.  It was a painful experience, and I had doubts that our plans for the evening were worth the price.  My doubts were quickly laid to rest as we reached the LDS Temple Visitor's Center and saw the beautiful array of Christmas lights on all of the trees around the temple, then sat in the auditorium and enjoyed a concert by a children's violin ensemble.  The combination of the festive music and watching our kids' expressions of wonder was priceless.  They also loved looking at the international nativity scene exhibit and the large nativity scene out by the lights.  Although they got to bed late, by the time we got home, the stress of getting out the door had completely subsided.  I'm glad we didn't give up and stay home.

Sunday Night Blues

When you care so little about cleaning up at night, other than getting it over with, that you literally try to put a square puzzle piece into the circle puzzle ball hole because your too lazy to rotate it and you want to win at least once today, you know you've got a bad case of the Sunday Night Blues.  In my experience, it can be triggered by many things.  For example, I broke my promise to my son that I would go the whole day today without losing my temper when my daughter looked me straight in the eyes and dumped her rice all over the floor only one nanosecond after asking her to stop playing with it.  Then came bath time, where children cannot stop splashing no matter how much you ask them.  I thoroughly enjoyed bedtime, however, reading to the kids and talking about the day.  They were especially cute tonight, telling us stories or getting dolls ready for bed.  I was almost cured until I came back downstairs to see that our dining room floor was one big rice patty.  I knew it would take almost an hour to clean-up the kitchen, dining room, and main floor, then another to plan with my wife for the week.  It will be another late night of all work and no play going into Monday.  Is there a way out?  I'm not sure.  If I enjoy my job as much as I do and it still doesn't help, it's got to be tough for those fathers who don't enjoy their jobs.  I understand this is all necessary.  Perhaps the answer is putting the kids to bed at 6 pm on Sunday nights, instead of 7:30 pm.  They may wake up a little early on Monday morning, but I'll have already escaped to work by then.  Even if I'm home, mornings are much easier than nights.

Fish Named Lawyer

What greater honor can be bestowed upon a father than to have my son name his fish after me? When his mother asked why he named the fish Lawyer he grinned and replied, "Because he's like daddy."  I hope that reflects positively on me as a father and a lawyer, but I'm not sure. The fish is called a Fancy Guppy.

Listening Skills

This morning my wife instructed me on how to make cream of wheat for our kids. Miraculously, they love it. They call it porridge, like the three little bears.  I followed the instructions, but it came out lumpy.  My wife called me on the phone while I was on the train to tell me about her conversation with our son about his porridge:

Mommy: "How's your porridge?"

Son: "I think you did it wrong."

Mommy: "Actually Daddy did it.  I told him how."

Son: "Daddy isn't a very good listener."

Then tonight, while singing to my toddler, I heard some creaking from the baby's crib and she was crying.  I turned to see what it was and she was standing up holding on to the sidebar which was down at her knee level.  She could have fallen off the crib.  Two thoughts ran through my mind: "When did she learn to do that?" and "I waited too long to listen to my wife again. She's been asking me to adjust the crib for two days now."

I need to keep these things in mind when I think my kids need to develop better listening skills.

Wait for It

Have you ever felt like the explanations your children give you during the nightly show-and-tell are too long? Have you ever found yourself walking onto other things while your children continue telling them about your day? I've been doing this blog for over 100 days now, and I just realized that I do that to my kids. My wife helped them make snowman-shaped loaves of bread today.  When I got home, my son showed me and began explaining every raisin on its face and tummy. Needless to say, I was tired because I'd worked late, and it was time to get the kids to bed. So, as he was describing his snowman to me I was slowly inching further into the house to do other things. When it finally hit me, I stopped to listen until the very end. He was so proud of it and anxious to explain it to me. I hope that as I listened he could tell that I was proud and excited too. This happens often now, as he is four and into asking lots of questions and providing in-depth explanations. Even when reading to him at night, I have to resist the temptation to rush now that it takes much longer due to answering so many questions. But I can see why people call children at this age sponges. They have an insatiable curiosity and a boundless imagination. Its really a lot of fun as long as I am willing to wait a few more minutes to get to my agenda.

Scripture Study and Nitpicking

Family scripture study is a mixed experience for us. For example, today our son practiced karate moves and our daughter wandered around the family room while I read two verses. Then I asked, "So, what can we do receive blessings from Heavenly Father?" To my surprise, our son promptly answered, while still doing karate moves, "Well, we can't say 'butt,' and we can't punch (with the action) or kick (again with the action) or bite. That's how we keep the commandments. That's what I learned in church." This was one of our better family scripture studies.

Before our son went to bed I made sure to tell him how lucky I am to be his dad. He is truly an exceptional little boy, as is apparent from the story above. I wanted to make sure to tell him because I have a tendency to nitpick. I don't know why, but I always feel like I should correct him when he can improve on anything. Often I don't really need to, and sometimes I should just choose not to and save whatever attention span he has for my lectures (which is next to zero, so normal) until it's important. Some battles I could do without for now, including getting him to stop wiggling in his seat at dinner. Today I told him it's his choice but he has to clean what he drops--and he did!  As much as I wish he would hang on every word I say, it's not going to happen.

"Yes, after . . ."

"Yes, after." When we first began to use this parenting tactic we figured it would ease tension by showing the kids that we do say "yes" sometimes while gradually helping our kids develop a characteristic all parents pray they will master, and soon--patience.  Nobody told us they won't understand this concept.  Try as we may to encourage their creativity and passions while still tending to the administration of our household, our children understand the phrase, "Yes, after . . ." as "no" or "never."  Will my kids ever understand what this means? I hope the answer isn't, "Yes, after they become parents themselves."

Wrestle-less

A somewhat troubling tendency has manifest itself in our children. Every night they go deaf, then go crazy when we try to get them to cooperate for dinner and bedtime. My wife, ever my teacher in the area of reality, again opened my eyes to a simple truth. To our kids, the evening is a time of excitement and anticipation because they are looking forward to having me come home and play with them. I always thought I was doing well by giving them kisses and hugs first thing when I walked in the door. Then my wife reminded me that we typically go straight into setting the table and having dinner, followed by bedtime prep. The evening may pass without any wrestling at all, if not just before bed. And by the time we sit down for dinner, all of the unfulfilled anticipation and excitement that begins building up as it nears time for me to come home becomes too much for them to contain and they transform into miniature hulks that growl and destroy. My wife and I decided to adjust the dinner schedule or preparation to ensure that when I get home I can wrestle first.

Oh What Fun It Is To Strew!

One of the things I enjoy about the holiday season is setting up the Christmas tree and other decorations while listening to Christmas music. My wife is like Elf, spilling with child-like excitement, and the children are equally giddy and mesmerized by all of the lights and shiny objects. During the decorating process I noticed a Scrooge-ish feeling welling up inside, because as we were unpacking the Christmas decorations, the kids would rummage through them, play with them, hide in them, tie them on, try to put them in the tree (regardless of the weight), and leave them strewn around the living room. I was starting to get frustrated and wanted to tell the kids to stop touching everything. But somehow--I'm still not quite sure how--another feeling overpowered Scrooge. I started thinking about what I loved about Christmas as a boy. I don't think I ever enjoyed decorating, as in actually setting things in order; rather, I loved rediscovering all of these fascinating things that I hadn't seen in a year. I probably tried on the stockings and hats, tied ribbons in knots, hid under the Christmas tablecloth or the Christmas tree box, threw the ornaments, tried to eat old candy canes as my parents put them on the tree, and rolled around in all of the packing materials. So, I don't have the heart to take that away from the kids. We can all find joy in decorating for Christmas as long as (1) I realize that my kids and I experience the joy for different reasons, and (2) anything breakable is immediately put out of reach or out of sight.

What Could Make Them Clean the House?

A miracle occurred today. The kids--the two oldest--cleaned the house with us. They dusted, wiped surfaces, and vacuumed all morning without complaint. Although they were excited that once the house was clean we'd put up Christmas decorations, I've convinced they just enjoyed working on a project together as a family.  I came to this conclusion for a couple of reasons. First, I noticed that they didn't bring up the promise we made about Christmas decorations, which is something they usually do when motivated by the promise of a reward. Second, they did not complain even when some of the decorating, including putting together our artificial tree, was pretty tedious. When cleaning spilled into the afternoon, the kids did act up a bit. There were some moments of frustration but nothing some wrestling couldn't fix.

Imitation is the Best Motivation

They say "imitation is the best form of flattery." It's true that when my son dressed up in his white shirt and tie today so that he could be just like me before I went to work, I felt truly flattered. However, that wasted feeling that comes from no sleep and taking your baby to the emergency room in the middle of the night also vanished with the realization that I can't give into the feelings of frustration and fatigue that I feel because my son looks to me to show him not only what a corporate dad looks like but also what a corporate dad acts like when things get tough. Is he patient? Does he still take time to listen or to play? Does he at least calmly communicate that he wants to play but needs to rest for a minute? And most importantly, does he still support his wife by helping get things ready for dinner and bed time without rolling his eyes or heaving deep sighs? If you answered "yes" to any of these questions, then you are a better man than I am most days. Today, however, I wanted to show my son that this corporate dad can do it too.

The Corporate Dad-Mom

Today I operated on two battle fronts full-time: full-time attorney and full-time substitute mom.  My wife was taken out of commission today with an illness but that didn't stop deadlines at work. On the one hand, I needed to take care of our sick kids.  On the other hand, I needed to keep up with certain project deadlines.  How did I do them both?  Not very well.  Although I did feed the kids, I had them sit in front of the TV the rest of the time watching movies.  And, although I was able to work on my projects, I was unable to finish any of them.  So, at the end of the day, I was a neglectful father and a useless judicial clerk.  This may seem like a melodramatic conclusion, but when you're in the heat of the battle you feel like the fall of Bonaparte.  In reality, when trying to accomplish too many things at once, the most I can hope for is mediocrity.  But sometimes that's the best a corporate dad can do. I did feel better about myself after taking time to wrestle with the kids before bed.

Genetic Listening

It feels like there is no use trying to ask anything of our kids. Oddly, they can hear us when what we have to say involves treats, but that's about it. This evening, my wife asked me to get something for her and told me where it was--in her purse.  I came back with something I found when looking in her diaper bag. She simply asked, "Did you hear me?" Funny, I don't know how many times I ask my two oldest the same question each day. Perhaps its genetic.

Working Late

Today was an almost 12-hour day at work. Although the girls woke up early and I was able to see them today, my son, who appreciates sleep as much as we wish our daughters would, was sleeping when I left and sleeping when I came back home. During the day our son put together two firetruck jigsaw puzzles all by himself and told my wife, "Daddy is going to be so surprised!" I was, but I didn't get to show him or tell him. I realize that at this point I don't have to work this late with great frequency and that missing this moment with my son isn't that big of a deal right now, but that frequency will likely increase and these opportunities will likely decrease when I move to the firm next year. I worked for two years at a law firm prior to law school, then again each summer during law school. One trend I've noticed among lawyers is that they get into the habit of working late, sleeping in the next morning, and coming in late. Is there much an associate can do when that is their partner's habit? On the other hand, my judge is always at work very early in the morning and is able to leave early and spend a great deal of time with his family. I hope that that is the habit I develop while working with him and continue to maintain at the firm so that missing these moments is still the exception rather than the rule.

Charlie Brown's Disease

We've been living in a dream world until now. Once children reach a certain age their ears tend to become infected with a common disease that lasts until they have children of their own. I think it's called Charlie Brown's disease, because all they can hear when adults speak is "wah wah wah wah." We took every precaution we could, and our son was able to keep it somewhat at bay until he turned four. Perhaps a part of it is that he has a bad cold, but no matter how many times my wife and I asked him to cover his cough, our request went unacknowledged.  Our daughter, on the other hand, was more susceptible to it. She succumbed to the disease at age two. We also have a nine-month old, and prospects aren't looking up.

To our children's credit, they spend seven hours in the car driving home from Thanksgiving vacation. They also had to deal with tired, inattentive parents once we got home. They are all sick. Finally, we are all dealing with the end of vacation blues and hanging on to the fun memories of the past week with our family and sweets.

The Cycle of Sickness

Our son is pretty sick, so we're postponing our trip back back to DC from visiting family at Thanksgiving.  On the one hand that gives us more time with our family.  On the other hand, that also means another day of missing work due to illness. I'm beginning to wonder if life will ever be normal again.  I think that at least one person in our family has been sick since at least 2006 when we first let people touch our newborn son.  Since then, it has been transfered to my wife and me, then back to him.  As more kids came, the cycle became a little longer--there are now two more kids for the sickness to travel through.  Most recently, it was transfered back to him from his baby sister.  Medicine does not break the cycle.  One possible solution is to have more kids so that it takes longer for the sickness to get back to me.  Just kidding.  The cycle doesn't really go in order.  It is as unpredictable as a $.25 rubber ball that has been hurled against a random wall in a pitch black room.  As my older brother and I learned as boys, it is uncertain where it will ricochet next, but it is certain to hit you at some point.  Moreover, the end of one person's illness typically overlaps with the beginning of the next person's illness, meaning that even when I am well there are kids needing 24-hour attention and sometimes I have to take the night shift.  I'm currently in the market for other solutions.

Vacation Victory

One of the challenges of vacation is coordinating efforts between two full-time parents.  You'd think it's easier with two parents home all day.  If so, you would be wrong.  The minute one parent sees the other he or she immediately thinks, "Freedom!"  Obviously, both parents can't be free of responsibility at the same time, nor can one parent shoulder all of the burden.  It is neither fair for the mom to have the dad take his turn as the stay-at-home parent nor for the dad to expect to be uninvolved for eight hours as if it were a regular work day.  Figuring this out took up the first day of our vacation.  Once we did, we felt that each day was victorious.  We had a game plan that allowed us to enjoy our extended family, our kids, and each other each day.  At the end of each day, we felt we'd achieved an important victory.  Miraculously, our vacation on the road was relatively stress free and a lot of fun.

Courage

Our son has been more mouthy than usual on this vacation, probably because he is with other kids and they  get pretty worked up when they play together.  We asked him about it tonight, and he knew it was wrong but said, "But I just want to be like other kids."  He's four, so I don't think he said that out of a deep sense of insecurity; rather, it was probably that other kids seem to have more fun than we apparently let him have at home.  Either way, I cannot stop thinking about how to help him feel confident enough in himself that he will do the right thing regardless of what other kids do.  Lately, he has also been excited about warriors, knights, superheroes, firemen, policemen, etc.  He thinks they are brave and courageous.  He's even asked what courage means.  We've tried to take advantage of his questions about these heroes to explain that courage means doing what is right even when its hard and you are alone in doing it.  He displays courage often, and we also try to point that out whenever we see it.  At some point, however, we know that he will really need to choose for himself, and he can only do that when he really feels it is right.

Since starting this post, I realized that my son shows courage by simply loving other kids for who they are and withholding judgment, something he did not learn from his father.  I tried to follow his lead tonight by inviting one of the more rowdy kids to join us for bedtime stories.  The more I tried to treat him with love, the more I loved about him.  To modify my earlier definition of courage, it means to do what is right but also to withhold improper judgment.  I guess I have some work to do too.

Thankful for Dishes

Our Thanksgiving traditions are not unlike those found in many other homes.  We go around the table and say what we are thankful for.  It is a wonderful tradition; however, I feel a little guilty about what went through my head as my turn was coming up.  You see, I can't cook, so I played with the kids while my wife, mother, and sisters made our Thanksgiving dinner.  So, when everyone was talking about what they were grateful for, I was thinking about how tired I was.  I was tempted to say, "I am thankful that I get to do dishes after dinner because I need a break."  But I said something more appropriate instead--I am thankful for my angel wife.  Not only is she my best friend, but she is also much stronger than I am.  It is a mystery to me how she can care for three kids every day, keep our home, and, hardest of all, take care of me.  And for the record, I am extremely grateful for my kids.  Part of the reason for this blog is to help me evaluate and improve myself as a corporate dad so that I can be the kind of dad my kids deserve and need.

Playing With Toy Guns

I've always wondered what I would do when my son began to want to play with toy guns.  We've never had toy guns, but we knew he would eventually be introduced to them through some friend or relative.  The truth is toy guns was always fun for me growing up, but I've also seen other kid take it too far.  After all, kids are now playing realistic and violent video games and grow up enjoying violence.  So, when his cousin introduced him to playing guns today, I was presented with three options: (1) tell him "no guns" while his cousin played on, (2) let him just play and learn his cousin's rules, or (3) teach him my rules by playing with them.  Option 3 is the best method.  It is the only kind of lecture I know that always sinks in.

Nasal Catheters

Since the beginning of flu season, noses have not stopped running in our house. After flying through boxes of tissues, waking up with babies who can't suck their thumbs and breath at the same time, and scraping plaster off of morning faces, I've come to the conclusion that someone needs to manufacture nasal catheters for home use.

Time-Out for Daddy

Perhaps one of the most important things I've ever done as a father was to put myself in time-out. As our bedtime routine was coming to an end, so was my patience. Apart from what I posted about a baby screaming all night long, the second most frustrating thing in the world is repeating my children's names without any response despite the fact they are mere feet away from me. But putting myself in time-out really got their attention. I stepped back to a corner of the room, folded my arms, looked up to the ceiling, let out a huge "I can't believe I'm doing this" sigh, and counted to ten. The kids were mesmerized and their faces reflected a combination of "this is funny" and "I can't believe my eyes." Seeing their faces was so funny to me that I started laughing before I got to ten. I came back to the kids, gave them hugs, and said, "Wow! It really does work. I feel better already."

Talking It Up

One way to get our son to get ready for church is to remind him that the Primary would sing a special song to him and give him a treat. The plan came at a cost, because right before Primary he refused to go.  He no longer wanted them to sing to him.  But we eventually persuaded him to go.  Our talking up the special Primary birthday treatment stirred up so much anticipation that when the Primary began to sing our son began to scream and my wife had to take him out into the hallway.   Interestingly, he gave a talk in church a few weeks ago, really just a line as part of a Primary program.  He worked so hard to memorize it and delivered it well.  I was somewhat surprised how confident he was, knowing that he usually gets embarrassed.  I think the reason is that we talked to him about it matter-of-factly and didn't make a big deal of it.  I think because we didn't talk it up so much, he didn't get too nervous or anxious about it.  I think we're coming to realize that the expectations of a child are very fragile things. In our case, it seems to foster confidence in our son to treat big deals as small and small ones as big.

As Deep As A Stack of Pancakes

This morning I came downstairs to see that my wife had made pancakes. Somehow, while still sick and sleep-deprived, she managed to wake up early with the kids, feed them, and let me sleep in. But there was still a stack of pancakes for me. No sooner had I sat down to eat, then my little girl came up to me, looked at me with her big brown eyes, held out her arms, and said, "Daddy Daddy." My wife clued me in that my little girl wanted to sit on my lap while I ate. I looked at my little girl and said, "I'm sorry sweetie. I can't eat and hold you at the same time." Then tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry. I couldn't resist; I gave in. She sat sweetly on my lap as I ate pancake after pancake until there were only two left.  As soon as I started on the next pancake, quick as a flash she snatched the last one, ate it, and hopped off of my lap. It finally dawned on me that I had been charmed by a master con artist. She loves me, I know, but apparently her love for me is only as deep as a stack of pancakes sometimes. At least she took my dishes back to the sink for me.

Topping the Frustration Chart is . . .

The spell of our little baby girl's charm was broken last night as I went from a concerned parent trying to help my sick little girl fall asleep at night to a deeply frustrated parent ready to set the screaming baby down, pop in some ear plugs, and try to get some sleep during the early morning hours. Thankfully, my wife (who was also sick) took over early in the morning and our baby girl finally ran out of screams. I've experienced many frustrating things in my life, but nothing comes close to staying up with a baby who will not stop screaming and crying.

By the way, we found out she has an sinus infection and were able to get her some medicine. Right now, she is sleeping pretty soundly. Hopefully, we won't hear from her again until noon tomorrow.

Don't Try Too Hard

Perhaps it's my law degree, or perhaps it's my personality, but I'm very cautious about what I say, almost to the point of being insecure. At home, that often translates into trying too hard to not to say things that would hurt my kids' feelings or trying too hard to compliment them. This complex is compounded by the fact that I feel a little guilty that I only see them a few hours each night. Interestingly, because they are treated with an excess of caution, they respond with an excess of sensitivity. It could be that my mind was so caught up in an opinion I need to finish drafting for the judge, but I wasn't making my typically excessive effort to be sensitive to my kids' feelings today. In fact, I sometimes forgot they were kids and spoke to them like I would to my wife. The result, I'm surprised to say, was that they weren't overly sensitive to the things that I said and they responded more, dare I say, maturely.

Child Conspirators

There are days when the kids seem to conspire against me. I picture them tapping Morse Code through the wall between their room at night, planning to spend the next day driving me crazy by doing everything I've repeatedly asked them not to do. Our son conspired to wiggle around in his seat during dinner and spill food on the floor. Our little girl conspired to wrestle with our son whenever we were trying to get his attention. Not wanting to be left out, our baby girl conspired to swat at everything that came near her, including toys, food, and faces. Then again, I'm sure they feel the same way about me sometimes, that I must have decided the night before to be bossy and impatient the next day. Whatever happened earlier in the evening, we were able to put it behind us by wrestling before bed.

Different But Consistent

It's no wonder my little girl is already learning to count to ten--she's in timeout half the time I'm home. My wife and I used to get really frustrated that she would often say "okay" when we asked her to stop doing something then immediately try to do it again. Now we often we think it's funny because she goes so peacefully to timeouts. Repeating something to her has absolutely no effect on her, but she seems to get it when we sit her in timeout and count to ten. So, we keep doing it--no drama. Our son, on the other hand, learns nothing from timeouts but gets it when we talk about it (as long as its brief). How are we supported to be consistent with two kids who are polar opposites? I'm not sure, but I try to make sure that my daughter sees when I talk to my son and that my son sees when I put my daughter in timeout. If they ask, I hope they'll understand the only possible explanation I could give--you two learn differently.

Pushing the Issue

My wife and I found some word-recognition beginning reader books for our son whose learning to read. The only problem is that he's so smart he memorizes the books almost word for word after only a couple of times through. When I came home from work, he began "reading" one of the books to me. At first I was amazed. Then I noticed that he read two sentences where the page only had one. I've written about this before. The problem is that I still don't know how to handle it. He said he wanted to read the books to me and seemed excited. When I pointed out to him the difference between memorizing and reading, he seemed deflated. In fact, any kind of critique disheartened him, despite also complimenting him on what a great job he does when he reads the words. He really does. I didn't want him to feel so discouraged that he'd never want to read again, so I encouraged him and found ways to point out the good things he did throughout the rest of the night. I even apologized when he went to bed for being pushy when he read to me.  I want to help him see that he can't cut corners or deceive in order to impress people, but that he should really put in the work and feel a sense of confidence and accomplishment. At the same time, I don't want to push so hard that I end up pushing him toward the other end of the spectrum. I realize that is a tall order and pretty deep for an almost four-year old. At the end of the day, although it hurt his feelings at first, he seemed more willing to accept what I said when he saw that I was treating him with an increase of love afterwards.

By the way, our son hasn't been complaining about dinners as much. In fact, he put his dishes in the sink without our asking tonight. We've talked to him a little about it, but we haven't taken any real action. He must have found out about my blog post.

Our little girl is also better at not yelling. She still yells our names, favors, or questions, but when we ask her to use her little voice she stops yelling, though she keeps repeating it softly regardless of how many times we try to answer. But, she also says "thank you" for everything. I guess we're getting somewhere.

A Birthday to Remember

Today was my wife's birthday. She hit the big 3-0. It was a birthday to remember, not only for my wife, but also for my son. This is the first of my wife's birthdays where we have a child old enough to remember what I do to show my wife how important her birthday is to me. He is a keen observer. I sent my wife on a scavenger hunt through the house looking for her multi-part gift. Our son saw this and noticed how special my wife felt. We saw him speed off to the family room for some paper and crayons. Then he grabbed my law school hat and hid it in his bed. It was cute to watch him play the "hotter/colder" game with my wife until she found my hat. Then he gave it to her. He was so excited, and my wife loved it. Then he gave her the card he made. He traced his hands and wrote his full name on the pictures, spelled according to the sounds he hears, his first name on the bottom and his middle and last names inside the hands.

When They Know . . .

What do you do when your son gets over-excited while your playing with him and whips a piece of clothing at your head? Well, my typical response to what I consider an innocent mistake is a three-step process: (1) talk about it, (2) hope he feels bad and apologizes, and (3) quickly forgive and move on. But when I put my hand on his arm, he backed away and began to cry. He curled up to his mother and said to her, "I don't want daddy to talk to me right now." My first reaction was, "I'm a terrible father! My son is scared of me." But, my wife helped me realize that wasn't true. He knew that he made a big mistake and already felt horrible. What he really needed was to know that I still trust him and love him. That would motivate him better than a lecture. (Boy, did that take the wind out of my sails. My lectures are brilliant.) So, after he calmed down and apologized, I decided that skipping to the last step was sufficient--though I added a big hug in there too.

Heart to Heart

You can just tell when something is on your child's mind, so I decided to ask him about it:

     "What's Daddy's superhero power?"

     "He saves people, just like me."

     "What's Mommy's superhero power?"

     "She's a kisser."

     "What's R's superhero power?"

     "She shares."

     "What's K's superhero power?"

     "She chews on things."

     "What's Walker's (the turtle) superhero power?"

     "He digs."

And people think that children are caught up in little things. Having a family of superheros is pretty big to me.

Battling Expectations

We've tried to take advantage of our short time here by trying to go on a "family adventure" each week, mostly to museums. There is so much to see, and my wife and I always look forward to seeing all we can. As this is a family adventure, and our family consists of a four-year old, a two-year old, and a baby, we've never expected to see much. It's quite a task to get there, however, and the question continues to run through my mind: is all this worth it to see only half an exhibit at a museum? While I was there aching to see more, I thought "no way!" But the purpose of the family adventures isn't really to learn anything from the museums, as odd as that may sound. The purpose is really to share fun experiences together like taking my wife's cookies to the security officers who let us park at the court, getting ice cream on the mall, picnic lunches, and pointing out different monuments we see on the way. In fact, sometimes the museum is the least enjoyable part--often because the kids scatter in different directions, the parents don't get to really see anything, and the parents and kids disagree on how long to stay or when and where to have snack. I doubt they'll remember the museums anyway. But, I'm sure they'll remember the overall experience or at least the effort we put into it for them.

Big Girl, Big Slime

Our baby girl decided she is done with baby food. She will not touch it, and now I will not touch her--at least while she is eating. The reason is simple, although she won't eat baby mush anymore, she turns the normal food we give her (bananas, sweet potatoes, pancakes, bread, eggs, etc.) into mush anyway. It's not just that. With the baby food, she used to let us feed her with a spoon. Now she insists on using her hands and gets the mush all over her. She is covered in slime by the end of dinner, and we can only hope that some of it got into her mouth. I'm guessing it does because she seems happy after dinner. One thing I can guarantee about the slime, however, is that she gets it all over the parent assigned to clean her up after dinner, because he does not have to clean up kids throughout the day--the corporate dad.

The Baby Is Gone

Why is it that as my son learns, matures, and becomes more self-sufficient I worry more about him? There is no reason to think he is unhappy or getting into trouble--he's a very mature three-year old. Perhaps his maturity is the reason. For the past three years he's been dependent upon us for so much. The benefit to that was immediate feedback. In other words, I knew everything he needed or thought because he immediately communicated it through crying, laughing, excitement, anger, etc. Today the realization hit me that he is no longer a baby. Now he has more self-control. His natural thoughtfulness has also developed to the point that he internalizes a lot of what he feels now. It's good for him to learn to shoulder his challenges himself to some degree. But, I think I miss how much he needed me to help him do it before. I no longer know everything he is thinking or feeling. I just ask and listen and hope that he feels comfortable telling me everything he needs to. I didn't think these kinds of worries would hit me as my son gets ready to turn four. I thought this was something that started in the teenage years.

Game Time!

Preparation for games, meets, and events has always been mostly mental for me. Of course, not every day was game day, so we prepared with regular practices. When it came time to perform, I had to be alone in order to "get in the zone," or, put another way, to anticipate what I would face and work through solutions in my mind. When it comes to being a dad, every day is game day. There is no time for regular anxiety-free practices. Luckily, I still have time to get in the zone while on the train home. If I have to work on the train, I try to take a minute as I walk home from the bus. As the kids grow older and challenge me more and more, this time to refocus becomes more and more essential. When I come home mentally unprepared, I'm certain to quickly lose patience. When I prepare, I can handle days like today. My son was feeling tired and grumpy as side effects of a fun camp out last weekend, so was less willing to share, more prone to complain, and more anxious to roughhouse. My little girl was learning the delay game, wanting to say "good night" to the moon, wanting to sing "Twinkle Little Star," wanting to go back out and kiss her brother, wanting to show me her band-aids, etc. My baby girl was extra fussy due to daylight savings time, and she refused to eat her baby cereal because she wants to eat real food like everyone else. Finally, my wife and I put together our November budget tonight (we're a little behind), which will always be somewhat depressing until we actually have money.

Karma of Nonsense

Our little girl was getting restless and loud at church. By then my wife and I has already tried everything we could think of. Perhaps desperation is the key to ingenuity because for some unknown reason I decided to take a closed marker and gently hold it to her nose, then to my nose, then to her cheek, then to my cheek, etc. She was fascinated, took the marker from me, and repeated what I had just done. Miraculously, this was enough to get us calmly through church. Then, after dinner my wife offered her some ice cream. As my wife was getting our little girl's ice cream ready our little girl said, "Oz cweam, Daddy?" meaning, "Can we make Daddy some ice cream too?" A minute later, she came out of the kitchen carrying two ice cream cones, and with a big smile on her face, she handed me one of them. As I licked the ice cream, she looked up at me with her big brown eyes and asked, "Nummy Daddy?" I'm not sure why she took such good care of me tonight. It may have been coming up with that nonsense game at church or other similar nonsense throughout the rest of the day.

By the way, our son had excellent manners at dinner tonight. Maybe it was something similar to what happened with my little girl. I did make him some cardboard armor after all, including a shield and a sword. Then again, I think this was the other meal my wife makes that he likes.

"Let Me Do What I Can Do!"

We went to pick our son up from the campsite where he was camping with our relatives. We let him do things like that without us because he has really proven himself trustworthy. Perhaps because he was pretty worn out or perhaps because he had enjoyed freedom from his parents for two days, he appeared to be getting pretty demanding. He wanted to play with the flashlight that our nephew was using to see the burgers he was grilling over the embers. I suggested he wait until our nephew was finished with it, but he kept on asking. Again, I told him he should wait until my nephew was finished. He responded, "Let me do what I can do!" At first, I took that to mean, "Let me do whatever I want," as if it were beneath him to submit to our parenting after two days of freedom. Although I can't let him do what he wants all the time, I should probably reduce my micromanaging tendencies a little bit and give him room to do what he can do sometimes. In other words, I should let him try out his own ideas more often, instead of insisting on adherence to my ideas.

He not only deserves more space to do things on his own, he needs that space to develop his own understanding of good ideas and bad ideas, which then leads to greater self-discipline. For example, he also refused to follow a cardinal rule of camping--wear layers. No matter how much his aunt insisted and we asked, he would not do it. So, instead of harping on him, we gave him space to try it his way and see what would happen. He realized quickly, of course, that he was freezing cold as the afternoon progressed into evening. When he told us he was cold and wanted us to solve his problem, we responded that it was his choice to go without a coat and that we are interested in his ideas on how to get warm again. He would quickly say he needed his gloves or a blanket, and he went and got them. He solved his own problems with some space to do what he can do, even if he didn't solve it the way I would have solved it.

Space to do what he can do, should also help him develop greater self-confidence. Micromanaging and criticizing have made him a bit insecure about certain things. In fact, he refuses to try certain things because he's been criticized about it, like driving his cousin's electric toy jeep. He wouldn't even help me drive the real four wheeler we were riding tonight when I invited him to. Another sign that I am too impatient, micromanaging, and critical. It is never my intention to make him insecure. To the contrary, I want him to be confident about himself and confident to try new things. At the end of the night, I asked my wife to remind me when I need to be more patient, stop criticizing, and give him space to do what he can do.

Protection and Persuasion

When I came home from work and opened the door, my daughter excitedly ran up to me yelling, "Daddy!" Trailing behind her was a little boy my wife was watching. He too ran up and excitedly yelled. But before he could reach me, my daughter quickly turned around to face him, spread her arms out to prevent him from reaching me, and yelled, "No! My Daddy!" I love it when my little girl gets protective of her daddy.

Soon thereafter, I began feeding our baby girl her dinner. She likes to close her mouth right as I'm about to put the spoon in it. I'm sure she's hungry, so she must just like to tease me. To persuade her to open her mouth, I had to speak jibberish or make up funny new words to tunes like "Jingle Bells." After several minutes of this, my wife commented that she thought the picture of a lawyer convincing his daughter with baby talk was a funny sight. I wouldn't say "funny." I would say it was just "creative lawyering."

Travel Gifts

Corporate dads have to travel sometimes for work, even in a first year clerkship. We didn't always mind when my dad traveled because he usually came back with gifts from that place. Not only was I excited to get presents, but I enjoyed feeling a part of his work life even when it temporarily took place in another state. NYC is full of souvenir shops, which are usually full of overpriced and useless gifts, at least as far as children as young as mine are concerned. Whether it was a crystal sculpture of the Empire State Building or a stuffed NYC cab or NYPD car, the result would be the same--played with once, then forgotten. I guess the sculpture would probably be broken rather than lost and present a greater risk of injury than the stuffed cars, but my point is that travel gifts can easily become junk. While visiting a bookstore in Brooklyn last night, I found a little board book called, "Good Night New York," featuring a little boy and a little girl who greet various features of NYC, Brooklyn, etc. throughout the day and wish the city a good night at the end. I thought reading it to the kids as a bedtime story when I got home would not only carry on the fun tradition of travel gifts and make my family a part of my travels, it would also (hopefully) last longer and be more meaningful. My impression from reading the book to them tonight was that they loved seeing and learning about where I had been the past four days.

Incomplete Fun

One can visit the most amazing places and experience the most amazing things, but imagine that person had to leave some taste buds behind or wear one earplug or cover one eye. There would be a sense of incompleteness to the experience. (Notice I didn't say anything about a limited sense of smell. In NYC that would be a good thing.) Although my experience in NYC was fun, on Wednesday I had a similar sense of incompleteness without my family there to experience the fun with me. Since being married and having kids, everything is more fun when we can experience it together. My kids would be stunned to see all the tall buildings or the Brooklyn Bridge. My wife would have loved having dinner at a great restaurant like Theresa's. I can't wait until I can take them back with me.

Fun in NYC

It's amazing how fun was redefined once I had a family. My trip to NYC provides a perfect example of the differences. With free time on Tuesday, I wanted to go back into the city to have some fun. As a single college student, fun in NYC consisted of exploring the historical landmarks, libraries, museums, parks, stores, and restaurants. Fun meant being free to do my own thing.  Now that I have a family, the activity I found to be the most fun was shopping for birthday gifts at the toy stores, bookstores, and lotion stores.

M&Ms Never Tasted So Good

As I sit in my hotel in NYC tonight, I can't stop thinking about my kids. It is clear to me that people in my profession in this city think that having three kids at this stage in my life is just plain crazy. Although my wife and I have the same thought sometimes, it doesn't last long. We love the life we chosen to live and couldn't imagine it without the kids. I've been asked, "How did you do go through law school with a family?" I've thought to respond, "How did you go through law school without one?" Confidence is not something you come by easily in law school or a law career, nor is reality. But I find them in abundance at home, where my wife and kids shower me with love and support. It helps me to focus, to plan, and to keep my feet on the ground.

For example, while the craziness of this trip was going on, I kept thinking about something my son did for me before I left. He counted out four Halloween treats and gave them to me. As if that weren't noble enough for a three-year old, he explained that I should eat one for each day of the trip. Then, when they were all gone, I would come home again. Today, I ate the M&Ms. They never tasted so good.

Sundays, Getting Into Character, and Progress

One of our son's favorite books is called, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day." That describes our Sunday mornings. Sundays are not a day of rest in the morning while getting the kids ready for church, trying to get out the door, getting to our seats just after the meeting starts, juggling three kids and their snacks and toys without distracting the people around us (surely futile), etc. The afternoons are much better. We get home, eat lunch, relax, and play. Which brings me to acting.

My son asked me to be his assistant fire fighter, while he pretended to be the captain. Together we put out several fires in our living room. At first, I was half-heartedly going along with it. I noticed, however, that he began to lose his enthusiasm for the game. I decided to take my acting more seriously. I always remembered to get the pretend hose, and I actually began aiming it and making the proper sound effects, while he rescued pretend people from the fire and threw them in the back of the truck. His enthusiasm for the game increased again. He even let me drive the truck. He can obviously tell when I'm really into it or just playing along. When I'm just playing along, it ruins the game and seems to make him feel a little silly for wanting to play it in the first place. When I get into it, we both have a blast.

Now for progress. We had dinner in the car on the way to a family member's house, so no report on our son's appreciation (or lack thereof) for my wife's cooking. However, our daughter is beginning to understand "big voice" and "little voice." Now, all we have to do is remind her to use her little voice. I realized I needed to make some progress too. My wife helped me realize that part of the reason our daughter calls our names so much is so that she can talk to us more--she can talk much better now, so she is looking for excuses to practice talking. That is also part of the reason she often repeats her questions and answers. I've noticed she also does it with our son. I've been a little slow to pick up on this, but its already made a big difference in my thinking. Whereas before it was something I wanted to stop, now it is something I want to encourage--as long as it is with a little voice.

Moments of Truth

We didn't get to work with our son again on dinner manners because of another Halloween party. As far as our daughter constantly yelling  for our attention, not much progress. We were reading "Good Night Moon" tonight, and our daughter kept yelling, "Daddy! Moon!" I said, "Honey, use your quiet voice," but it made no difference. She kept yelling, "Daddy! Moon!" with every page. Usually it's pretty frustrating, but tonight I couldn't help but laugh as she yelled to me throughout the entire book, despite the fact that I was sitting right next to her.

Despite a lack of progress with our daughter, our son really surprised us tonight. He gets a weekly allowance, which we let him put in jars labelled after things he wants to save for. His sister's birthday is coming up, so he gave us some of his allowance to pay for a gift that he is really excited to give her, one he picked out. But he kept insisting on giving us money. We didn't understand why and kept explaining that we pay for his birthday gift. He said that he wanted his sister to be able to get him something for his birthday too. We said she would help us get him a gift. Then he insisted on giving us some of his allowance again and said, "but she doesn't have any money." It was so sweet that we decided to let him give his money to his sister so that she would have some money to buy his birthday gift.

Big Voice, Little Voice

Our son did not have to suffer tonight through any experiments on getting him to stop complaining about dinners, because we had dinner at a Halloween party. But, I did try something new to get our little girl to realize the difference between loud and soft voices. We played a game called big voice, little voice. I'd say, "Let's use a big voice." Then we'd hold our arms out wide and yell, "Mommy! Daddy!"--which is what she always does. Then I'd say, "Now let's use a little voice." Then we'd cup our hands around our mouths and whisper, "Mommy. Daddy." She seems to like the game, so we'll see what happens.

Epilogue to Pumpkin Carving: Authority and Respect

After the pumpkin carving last night, the rest of the night was disastrous. Our son kept getting out of bed. We finally refused to tuck him back in again, and he just waited in his room until after 10 pm. My wife and I were pretty fed up. It is interesting how easily I get offended when our kids just flat out refuse to acknowledge our authority as parents. My wife is a little more thick-skinned. Thinking about this since last night has helped me to answer two important questions? First, where do parents get their authority? Second, how can we tell if our kids respect it?

As to the first question, I realized very quickly that saying, "Because I'm the Daddy" doesn't work. I wish it did, because sometimes I can't come up with any better reason. In reality, time, attention, and trying to set a good example of what we teach builds our childrens' trust, including acknowledging when I make mistakes. That trust is my source of authority.

As to the second question, even having their total love and trust does not guarantee absolute obedience from even the best kids. I think we do have the best kids, but we still couldn't convince our son to go to bed last night. Obviously, there has to be some other way that they show us that they love and respect us. Tonight I was reminded of at least one way. After reading to my son, I talked to him about last night and apologized for getting angry. Then my son said something that he's often said before, "It's okay. Sometimes Daddy's make mistakes." It reminded me that even if he has moments of downright rebellion, he definitely respects me as his father, because he forgives my mistakes.

Now, for the next few days I need to keep these things in mind as my wife and I try to bring about two important changes: First, we want our son to stop complaining about what my wife makes for dinner. No matter what it is, he always starts dinner saying, "I don't like this!" The only exception is German Pancakes. Second, our little girl yells our names repeatedly as if everything she wants to tell us is a matter of life or death. It doesn't matter how much we listen to her. She wants us our total attention all the time. She needs to learn to keep her voice down and to wait until we can respond. I have no idea how to accomplish either of these things, but I'm sure this epiphany will remind me how to approach these issues.

Pumpkin Carving

You never know what's going to happen with six pumpkins, two sharp knives, and three kids up past their bedtimes. To our surprise and relief, there were no fights or injuries, and the jack-o-lanterns even turned out well. It's no secret that cupcakes, ice cream, and discipline-free mess making help to buy-off the kids a little. But, even when the sugar wears out, there's still "Finding Nemo" to keep the kids happy until the parents finish the carving that remained after the kids' attention spans expired.

I wish I could say it was smooth sailing the rest of the night too, but . . . more on that tomorrow.

Our Own Little Torture Device

Years ago my wife and I visited the Wisconsin Dells and noticed a random museum--a torture device museum.  It was not a gore museum, and I still don't know what possessed us to go inside. I remember one funny muzzle used to punish gossipers. Now that I have children, I realize that one device was missing from that collection. It is a torture device used on children that has been around for centuries and continues to be popular today, though not as popular as it used to be. We've been in denial for generations. It's called the dinner table.

At least it seemed like a torture device tonight with all of the whining, screaming, and escape attempts we witnessed. It would probably also qualify as a device to torture parents.

Avoiding Baby Faces

Second night in a row that had to get up in the middle of the night because one of our children started screaming. Congestion one night. Too hot the next night. Also the second morning in a row getting up before 5:30 am to feed our baby.* I'm sure mothers reading this, especially those we know with multiples, have no sympathy for me. But they should. I've heard mothers have a hormone that allows their bodies to cope with lack of sleep. There is no such hormone for men. Either way, my day began feeding our baby before the crack of dawn. Normally, she lets me set her down in the bouncy seat so that I can make her bottle. I can't do it with one hand. I don't have that hormone either. Every time I tried, she cried. It was so frustrating that I couldn't look her in her cute little face, because it would ruin my anger. That set the tone for the morning.

Getting frustrated with my baby girl made me frustrated at myself. Then, on the way to catch the bus, I ran across the busy street between me and the bus stop when there was a large and safe gap in the traffic. But the bus driver didn't think it was safe, and he proceeded to give me an embarrassing lecture on safety at no extra cost. Work went well, and gradually the frustration and embarrassment of the morning began to subside. By the time I came home, I was ready to look my kids in the face again and let them cheer me up. It was touch-and-go for a little while during the chaos of dinner. Then, my wife and I finished the night looking through the 6-month old pictures of the same baby girl I was mad at this morning. I was right, her little face dissipated any remaining grumpiness.

*I should mention that my wife always gets up in the middle of the night with the kids and has forbidden me to get up before 5:30 am, but I have been doing it for two reasons: (1) I wanted to help because she had a busy week, and (2) it's a natural reaction to hearing one of our kids cry (or scream) at night. Issue 1 is now resolved. I don't want to help anymore! Issue 2 is much trickier. On the one hand, my concern for my kids is becoming more tempered at night now that they are older. On the other hand, I can't shake the fear that one crying child will quickly lead to three crying children and a long long night, and I don't want to give up the rare moments when my kids let me comfort them. They're so tired, they may not even know it's me. But I'm okay tricking my kids into needing me sometimes.

Life or Death

Our son refused to put his Sunday shirt under his sweater, so I took the opportunity to apply what my wife has been telling me from her parenting book. I decided getting dressed was a must, so I offered him the following choices:

-"You can either put it on now or go into time-out until you're ready to listen." My son swipes at my hand holding his Sunday shirt, and I say, "Okay. You chose a time-out."

-My son resists sitting in the time-out chair, so I say, "You can either sit here or in your room." He continues to resist, and I take him up to his room and say, "Okay. You chose your room."

-He tries to leave the room, so I say, "You can either have time-out with the door open or closed." He leaves the room again, so I say, "Okay. You chose door closed."

-He tries to open the door, so I say, "You can either have the door locked or unlocked." He tries to open it again, so I lock the door and say, "Okay. You chose locked."

He calmed down, and we went back downstairs to talk and get him dressed. At that point my wife said, "Just let him try it his way and learn for himself." Sure enough, by trying his clothes on the way he wanted he decided to reverse many of his strong opinions. I felt that all of my effort to successfully employ the choices tactic was wasted, and it really turned out to be a miserable failure. I later confessed to my wife that I mostly felt disappointed in myself for getting so easily frustrated. I said, "Sometimes I just don't know which battles to pick." She wisely responded, "Sometimes you should only pick the battles that are life or death, and what our son wears to church isn't life or death." Once I got over my wounded pride, I benefited a lot from her advice.

Cause and Effect

This morning my wife made one of our favorites for breakfast, a delicious, thick, blue berry, strawberry, black berry, and banana fruit smoothie to go with our German pancakes. My son and I drink every last drop within minutes of starting breakfast. Our little girl typically doesn't finish hers, so we look forward to devouring what she doesn't finish. After turning my head away for only a second, I heard my son yell, "No!" I whipped my head back around to find fruit smoothie all over my little girl, the table, her booster seat, and the floor. The look on her face was one of fascination, rather then guilt. I immediately cleaned her off and put her in time-out. How could she waste something so good! I told my wife that it was a dumb thing to do. Like any good mom, she immediately jumped to her defense: "It wasn't dumb. She was experimenting. Kids that age love to learn cause and effect. Don't stifle her creativity!" I let our daughter out of time-out and responded, "Now she knows that the effect of dumping her food is a time-out. There will come a time when you'll want me to stifle that 'creativity' of hers." As luck would have it, we had spaghetti for dinner tonight. Our little girl's "creativity"--which apparently  is a euphemism for messiness--sparked up again, resulting in noodles all over the table and floor. My wife and I looked at each other knowingly and laughed. Although I helped get her to stop, I had to fight hard to suppress a compelling urge to say, "I'm not going to stifle her creativity!"

Good Night Moon

Before we had kids, I imagined what the bedtime routine would be like: baths, books, prayers, songs, and bed.  As they've grown older, the bedtime routine has begun to include things I never foresaw. For example, sometimes our daughter feels the need to "honk" my nose before bed, which is fine with me if that's what it takes for her to go to bed happily. But the latest craze is going outside to say goodnight to the moon. They beg for it. They could care less how cold it is outside. They run out and look for it. Once they find it, it enraptures them.  Once they leave it, they're heartbroken. But I love watching them do it. Their faces are filled with innocence and wonder at the moon, even conveying a strange familiarity with it. This new element of our bedtime routine has really been inspiring.

Playing Ball in the House . . .

. . . I highly recommend it, if the alternative is to put off a promise to play together. The day tends to pick up speed in the evenings, and promises to play together tend to get harder to keep. Before we know it, we're in our pajamas, ready for bed, and much too tired to play. Interestingly, Emerson said that we remember most the things we love the most or hate the most. I think kids love nothing more than a meaningful promise and hate nothing more than an empty one. So, whether we keep them or not, kids always remember our promises. Having already bargained with my son to postpone a game together once, we went downstairs after the girls when to bed and played soccer in the living room. One might argue that this was a bad idea given the risk that careless 3-4-year olds would break something. Putting aside the fact that we own nothing of value, I disagree with that argument. I've noticed that when my son has my undivided attention, he takes great care to maintain my trust, make me proud, and even mimic me. Sure, there is a risk, especially if I'm careless, but it diminishes significantly when playing ball in the house means keeping a promise to spend quality time together.

Turning Back the Pages

I am not speaking metaphorically. This is really what happens whenever I read to my little girl before bed. She turns the pages back so many times that we set the world record for the slowest finishers of a board book. She obviously doesn't appreciate the amount of effort that goes into reading to her! To fathers, nightly reading is not merely a way to sedate children before bed, it is a medium for developing a love for reading and learning, a habit of finishing what you start, and, in our case, a familiarity with a second language. The sad irony is that pushing the second and third goals to hard may seriously undermine the first. But, focusing on the first enables the second and third. As with everything else, this dawned on me only recently. So, as I read tonight, I let my little girl stop me, turn back the pages, and show me "moon," "house," "cat," and "food." We did that throughout the book, and with each word she would show me, I would repeat back the Spanish translation.

Biter Biscuits? I Don't Get It.

I would like someone to explain to me the concept of biter biscuits. We've used them with all three kids, and giving one to our baby girl before dinner reminded me why they make no sense. They are for babies who can't eat solids. Yet shortly after coming into contact with their saliva, large pieces break off in their mouths. They gag and choke until I stick my finger in my baby's mouth to get the chunks out, but it usually comes at the cost of some crunching on my finger. On top of being life- and finger- threating, they are a mess. They melt in your hands, not in your mouth. The explanation I get for why we use them? They keep babies quiet and happy so that we can eat. Big problem: babies don't have the motor skills to keep hold of them for very long. Dinner is spent playing catcher while our daughter involuntarily plays pitcher.

Going Out to Dinner

We've done it before, but the older the kids get the more complex going out to dinner gets. The following is a chronological break-down of events:

5:50 pm - family picks me up at the train station
6:00 pm - arrive at the restaurant
6:01 pm - assigned to a table, not a booth, we both worry that we won't be able to contain the kids
6:02 pm - host struggles to sets highchair upside down for infant seat but can't figure out how to secure it
6:05 pm - we request a booth
6:06 pm - infant seat doesn't fit, must set it perpendicular to bench between the bench and the table
6:08 pm - baby girl gets restless, starts wrestling with toddler boy in the bench (won't seat together in future)
6:10 pm - infant girl starts to fuss for dinner, begin feeding cold peas sideways to infant, she won't touch it
6:11 pm - baby girl begins to scream for no apparent reason
6:12 pm - I take baby girl into hallway to talk, we decide on sitting her in a high chair
6:15 pm - baby girl calm in high chair
6:20 pm - we order, thankfully our toddler can actually tell us what he wants
6:25 pm - genius restaurant brings kids' food right away
6:30 pm - blessed adult food!
6:31 pm - toddler eating happily, baby bored and wants out, infant tired and hungry, both cry again
6:35 pm - baby wrestles toddler again, knocks his head into wall, he cries (forgot to keep them separate)
6:36 pm - infant gets baby's leftovers, crumbles them all over me bench and floor (table remains unblemished)
6:40 pm - adult food gone, not sure where it went, but we think we ate it
6:45 pm - both adults standing and rocking the girls, while toddler finishes food
6:50 pm - ice cream! toddler eats it up, baby girl loves feeding it to me and my wife and saying, "Dat nummy Mommy? Dat nummy Daddy?", I'm bouncing fussy infant on lap
6:55 pm - pack up, pay, and leave
7:00 pm - kids climb steps and have some fun outside restaurant
7:05 pm - race to the car, toddler runs into the sliding door and hurts his arm
7:06 pm - my wife calms the toddler, while I try to catch and buckle in baby girl trying to get into driver seat
7:10 pm - bed time routine

Although things seem to have happened in rapid succession, it did not feel that quick to us. We had several moments where we were relaxed, laughing, and enjoying each other. Perhaps having children speeds us up, so that while we perceive time moving naturally, outsiders looking in see us moving like hummingbirds.

I'm also looking at these 5-6 minute increments, wondering what parents would make if they billed like attorneys. No down time, very productive, very long hours. I think we'd make millions.

Retaliatory Parenting--By the Kids!

There are times when I feel like I have to make a sudden noise to recall the kids back to this world from whatever world hypnotized them into forgetting their own names and believing that whatever they were just doing was okay. My daughter was swinging her spaghetti noodles around like a lasso and would not respond when I repeatedly called her name. Needing to get her attention quickly to prevent a disaster, I quickly slapped my hand against  the surface of the dinner table. Apparently she thought this was an effective technique because, only a few minutes later, she did the same thing to me when trying to get me to let her down from her booster seat during dinner. She looked very stern. My first thought was, "Is that what I looked like?" My second thought was that I should immediately comply before she hurt me.

Thankfully, I snapped out of it and remembered that I was the parent. I think a new attention-getting technique is in order.

"It's Okay. Daddies Make Bad Choices Sometimes"

Our Saturday didn't turn out as planned. Part of the problem is that we weren't sure what our plan was. As a result, I was bit grumpy for part of the day. At dinner, I apologized to the kids for being a grump, and my son replied, "It's okay. Daddies make bad choices sometimes."

To make it up to them we laid out all the couch cushions, popped some popcorn, and watched "The Land Before Time."

Picking Up a Cheerio

After a typical day at work, I came home and sat down to family dinner. Our baby was beginning to fuss, so my wife handed me some Cheerios and suggested that the baby might be ready to pick them up with her fingers. For most of dinner she pushed them, pulled them, smacked them, and flung them, but did not appear to have the motor skills to pick them up between her fingers. Then, to our surprise, she did it. She could not get it to her mouth, but she finally picked it up. Such a little thing, but it excited us, because it was a big sign of her growth and development.

Picking up that Cheerio affected the rest of my night as well. I began to notice little things with each of my kids that told me they were growing. My son asked, "May I be excused?" at dinner. He also buttoned his own shirt buttons. I also caught him helping our little girl up and teaching her how to dust herself off when she fell outside. Our little girl told us she needed to go potty and sat on it by herself (though she remained in her diaper and fully clothed). She is also beginning to use small sentences like, "Pease see da moon?" And, in addition to picking up her Cheerio, our baby sat up on her own for a few minutes.

My wife's question to my son when tucking him in tonight sums up my feelings about all of this. She asked him, "Can you please, please stop growing?"