The Limits of Loyalty to Daddy

My son and I are the two holdouts, meaning we the only members of the family who are still so sick that we are either sleeping most of the day or lounging around watching movies. I felt that we had really bonded because we were able to commiserate together throughout the day. We snuggled up on the couch to some movies, and he really seemed to enjoy having Daddy there to suffer through this with him. Then came bed time. Normally my wife and I switch off reading to different kids, and I was my turn to read to my son tonight. But he stopped me and explained that he wanted Mommy to read to him tonight and all nights when he is sick, then we can switch of the nights when he feels well. My first thought was: "Where's the loyalty? Didn't we suffer together?" But I later thought: "Well, I guess if I were in your shoes I'd want Mommy too." It softened the blow a little.

A Tale of Two Cs

If you thought that kids could care less whether Cheese-Its had letters of the alphabet on them, you'd be wrong--at least as far as our two-year old is concerned. My wife took her to church while I stayed home sick with the other two kids. My wife later told me that our as our little girl was eating the crackers as a snack at church, she would hold up some of them and say the letter before popping them into her mouth. Both of us were thrilled. She can recognize some of the letters now. As soon as my wife told me, I asked my daughter if I could check her brains. I held onto her ear, peered inside, and said, "Yep. Your brain is getting bigger and smarter." Immediately, a big smile beamed across her face and she starting singing the alphabet song to me. I could tell she was proud of herself and gaining confidence in her learning. I, of course, was proud too. I never expected her to burst into the ABC song like that, especially because she used to be so shy about it. But a little lesson I learned from this is that I should never underestimate the power of a compliment. A recent Wall Street Journal article addressing a trend between wealth and intelligence determined that a major factor in intellectual development is whether and how often the child is criticized or complimented. The article pointed out that where intellectual development is low, When the children live in an environment where they are criticized 80% of the time and complimented only 20% of the time, their intellectual development is low. Where the percentages are reversed, intellectual development is high. I don't know where my percentages fall. To be honest, they are probably the worst with this independent little girl. On the one hand, she is beginning to stay dry through the night and during naps--a big big deal! On the other, she sometimes struggles when she's awake and distracted. She's also afraid of going number two, holds it for days, and goes in her pants. I was the unlikely one who had to clean it up today. No compliments there. I'm thrilled about her accomplishments, but frustrated by her struggles during the day. She is also not very compliant in general. It almost makes it worse sometimes to point it out her because she enjoys it. But, at least we can capitalize on her joy in doing the opposite of what we say at dinner by telling her not to eat her corn or rice. It worked tonight on her rice. I am also a perfectionist, but at the same time feel that my kids are as close to perfect as kids come. So, maybe I'm a 70% complimenter and a 30% criticizer. I'll ask my wife to make sure I'm not being too generous with myself. Either way, I hope I can improve my record. Judging from what happened today, I'm convinced that compliments produce results better than criticism.

Somehow They Understand

I always worry when Saturday rolls around and I am too sick to play with the kids. It is one of the few opportunities for us to spend the whole day together playing and growing closer. I worry that they won't understand and act out when I have to decline to wrestle or play. But today they didn't. I've been sicker than I've been in a long time--stuck to the bed almost all day. Somehow the kids understood how serious it was and were very subdued and gentle. They are still sick too, but they had plenty of bursts of energy. I am thankful for my kids. I'm thankful they can understand, even when their little, the needs of a parent.

That's a Little Boy Name

Last night my son initiated an interesting conversation:

"Why does A. call me Boo Boo?"

"Well, his mom called you Buddy Boo when you were a baby, and he couldn't pronounce it. So, he called you Boo Boo."

Then, he asked my wife the same thing today. He further explained:

"I don't like it when A. calls me Boo Boo."

"Why?"

"That's a little boy name."

"Can you think of a different name you want him to call you?"

"How about Soccer Man or Scuba or Superman?"

He is really growing up if he's already sensitive to stuff like that.

The Best Kind of Sick Day

For any corporate dad with young children, it is difficult to decide what to do when you are sick. You can stick it out at work or you can go home. The catch is that work is often more restful than home. In the best of all possible worlds, if I have to be sick, I prefer that my kids are all sick too. Then, when I am home, they do not need to play much and I don't need to feel bad because I can't or lose patience because I don't feel up to it. When they are sick all they want to do is snuggle. Of course, this is only the best option if my wife is feeling well so that she can keep our home from falling apart. Today, I left work early because I was feeling sick. I arrived at home to the perfect scenario. My wife was happy and healthy, but all the kids were sick and snuggly. They were on the couch watching a movie, and I snuggled up right in between them. At different points in the movie, they leaned their heads against my shoulders. Now that is the way to get a sick corporate dad feeling better.

Fighting Over Dishes & The Biggest Hug

Dishes--Allowance has resulted in arguments popping up in unexpected places. As background, one responsibility my son has to qualify for allowance during the week is setting the table. But there have been times when we've had to call him repeatedly to do it. We decided we were done with that. He now owes us 1/5 of his allowance whenever we have to set the table for him. He's only had to do that once so far--he reset the table anyway. Today looked to be the second time. Only, our toddler wanted to set the table instead. So, we determined our son would pay her. That made him jump up. Not only that, he refused to let her help him even though we told him he would still get paid if he let her help. A fight between our two oldest ensued while my wife and I were in the kitchen with the baby. We don't like fighting so we try to handle it quickly. But this time we just looked at each other. How do you handle a fight over who gets to do the chores? Should we punish our son because he won't let his sister help? Thank goodness for the attention spans of children. The fight blew over before we could figure out what to do. I guess we could have worse problems--well, we do, but I've posted enough on potty training. Still, we're not in bad shape right now.

The Biggest Hug--My hug from my son tonight before bed would rank among the biggest he's ever given me. He usually gives me pretty big hugs, like tackling hugs or bear hugs, but the "big" in the hug was of a very different nature. To explain, we are both feeling very sick. On top of that, I do not have what sick kids need. First, I am not their mother. They know that, and I know that. You may think that I am slow on the uptake, but it is not being slow, just hopeful that someday my kids will seek comfort from me on a regular basis in addition to seeking it from their mother. Right now my wife is leading in comfort opportunities a zillion-to-one. I cannot nurture or comfort the way she does. In fact, that is whom I seek out when I need comfort too. Second, I still don't have the patience to slow down and understand what a sick child needs. My son would not tell me. Well, I thought he was telling me when he kept whimpering that he wanted Mommy to help him get ready for bed. After a while of waiting for my son to respond to what I felt were patience directions to get undressed and into his PJ's, I got tired of it. I even told him that if he didn't get moving he wouldn't get any books from me or Mommy. Finally, he started to cry and say, "Daddy, please just leave me alone. Just wait a minute." I felt horrible. I thought I was being patient, but I didn't really get that he was exhausted and physically and emotionally spent. It wasn't the typical four-year old distraction that kept him from getting ready. As hard-hearted as I can be at bed-time, especially when I feel sick too, I told him he was right and sincerely asked his forgiveness. Then I decided to give in and let Mommy help while I bathed the girls--something that required more work, especially when your toddler has an accident on the bathroom floor. Before I left, I told him I loved him and gave him a hug. To my surprise, this exhausted little boy put all of his remaining energy into squeezing me back as hard as he could and in a way that said, "Thank you for understanding. I love you too." I may not be the main comforter, but I think he felt somewhat comforted to know that his father cares enough to say "sorry" and really listen to what he needs.

When the Mom's Away . . .

Chaos comes out to play. While getting ready to change the baby, my son fell down the bottom two steps and hurt his knee. While setting him down on the couch to recover, the baby crawled off the step-down to the living room and bumped her head. While calming the baby down and changing her diaper, my toddler went number two in her underpants. Once I cleaned up and got all the kids back together to put them in their pajamas, they all started crying. To rub it in even further they whimpered the words no father enjoys hearing, "I want Mommy." I understood. By that point I wanted my mommy too. On the bright side, we did have a lot of fun horsing around before all of the chaos ensued.

The Cat in the Hat

Bad weather and colds can make days at home seem so boring. We had great ideas, including Mt. Vernon or the park, etc. But when we saw the weather this morning, we felt almost like the little boy and girl staring out the window at the rain and wondering what to do. Luckily, it was my day off too (President's Day), and I am their favorite toy. Randomness ruled our day, including putting on costumes--I was, appropriately, the Cat in the Hat. We also wrestled, spelled, read, watched a little show, and even danced in a mambo line. We rounded out the day by Skyping with my wife's parents. We didn't step a foot outside, but we hardly noticed we were stuck inside. As a side note, my wife says that I should be the stay-at-home parent; however, I assured her that if I stayed home everyday, I wouldn't have the energy to do all of these things every day either. We know all too well what can happen to even the best of plans. But when plans are thrown out the window, like they were today, we sometimes have even more fun just goofing off together.

Try Something New

What's that they say about a wise man and a foolish man? A foolish man uses the same method to get different results, while a wise man realizes that to get different results he must try something new. Those words of wisdom ring particularly true when figuring out how to teach/discipline/guide my toddler girl. She has personality and adventure bursting from her eyelashes. I'm not sure her little body can contain that much zest for life and exploration. But I am sure that big personality does not respond to traditional discipline, including time-outs, "no," lectures, looks of disappointment, taking privileges, etc. Attempts involving any of the above are met with a knowing (and admittedly charming) look of feigned innocence, complete with a tilted head, batting eyes, and a tender smile--a mix of "who me?" and "you bet it is!" all in one. Perhaps I have succumbed to her charm. Perhaps the fact that her playful personality reminds me of her mother, endearing her to me even more. Perhaps it is her doe eyes and true beauty. Perhaps it is my appreciation for her razor sharp wit and impeccable comedic timing. Certainly, it has to do with the fact that all previous attempts at discipline have failed. But, I've finally decided to try something new. It's not quite, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," but more of an, "if you can't beat 'em, appreciate them" approach. I haven't mastered it yet, but today it involved returning a knowing smile that communicates, "you may be clever, and I love you for it, but you're not fooling me, and you're not getting away with it," followed by wrestling, tickling, or otherwise showing affection with her until I've charmed her back into doing something more constructive. To be honest, I feel like it takes on a different form every time and every day with her, but the concept is the same--patience, appreciation, loving persuasion. It is a work in process, but it certainly makes disciplining this unconquerable and insatiable toddler much more fun. It tells her I love what is good about her, and guides her in a way she understands and without criticism to becoming even better. So far, she is 100% more responsive.

What Saturday Is For

Today I discovered another reason Saturdays with the family are so great--without them we miss the little things our wives get to see throughout the week that help us appreciate our children's personalities even more. Things like going to the Air & Space museum and examining the torpedoes together with my son; putting my toddler girl down for a nap under her bed, at her insistence, only to find her sleeping behind the curtain when I go to get her up; watching my son create a bird or another couch on the floor or couch cushions; and sitting between my two oldest as they are nestled into their thrones of pillows and blankets eating popcorn during movie night. And of course, new faces that my baby girl makes and more of her standing practice. There really are sides to our kids we miss out on during the work week. I'm grateful I get Saturday's at home to catch-up a little bit.

Date Night

Can't write much tonight. I'm on a date with my wife. By the way, a corporate dad is going to run out of steam without regular dates with his wife. It strengthens an essential friendship and partnership. The closer the father and mother are at home, the safer our children feel at home. We read Kira Kira several years ago and were impressed by something the protagonist shared, "I knew my mother and father loved each other. That made me feel safe."

A Lawyer and a Scuba Diver

Success! I came home tired, but I reminded myself as I got home that I made a promise that I would not lose my temper tonight. I made a great effort to think before I spoke. I think my kids really liked that because I spoke less. I also made the effort to really listen, even if they were whining over something ridiculous. Of course, wrestling before bed never hurts either. There was also an unexpected success.

My son asked my wife, "When I am older can I work at the same place Daddy works?"

My wife asked, "Why do you want to work at the same place?"

Son: "I want to work with Daddy."

Wife: "You want to be a lawyer?"

Son: "Can a lawyer be a scuba diver too?"

Wife: "Yes."

Son: "Then I want to be a lawyer and a scuba diver?"

I guess I'm not doing too badly if my son wants to work with me and be a lawyer, as long as he can still be a scuba diver of course.

Control Theory

So much for yesterday's theory. I do not think it is wrong, but I'm realizing that it is much easier said than done. Many of my posts have centered on sincere communication, quality time, and patience. The reality is that those are difficult things to accomplish. That is why just as many of my posts discuss understanding myself and my kids, being patient, worrying less about things that aren't that important, and learning to overcome my selfishness. Oddly, I do not think my challenges are always related to being tired, stressed, busy, etc. For me, they are more about control. Perhaps I should start my quest there. Prime examples of my control complex include getting offended when the kids don't listen to me, such as at bath-time tonight when I got frustrated that my three kids kept splashing, screaming, and wiggling around as I tried to bath them, or just before dinner when I asked my son to sit at the table only to have him try to escape and play a little longer. I sometimes stop them in their tracks or remove the toy that is distracting them, all of which startles them. Another example of control is getting frustrated and impatient when my kids make messes. I always cringe when I put a little scoop of food into my baby's mouth only to have her push it back out onto her bib or the tray table, or when my wonderful wife puts corn, beans, or other vegetables on her tray and she smothers them and drops them down by her legs and on the floor. Our son also wiggles quite a bit at his seat (until we threated him with a booster seat) causing him to drop his food. Our toddler always drops her drink and spills it out onto the table, the floor, or her. All of those things, except by some miracle spilling the drink, also happened tonight. Finally, I have a hard time letting the kids touch my stuff because they generally forget to put it back or otherwise take care of it. One of the many wonderful things about my wife is her calming influence on me. She reminds me that many things are not life or death, that I am being proud when I choose to get offended, or that I should laugh at things a little more. For example, our son covered the basement floor with toys, later explaining that it was "Toy Land" and that "Kids don't clean-up toys in Toy Land." Genius! But there are days, like today, where I lost my patience not once, not twice, but at least three times with my kids (mainly our oldest) within the short two-hour period of time we had together between work and bedtime. I think the mistakes feed into one another. I blow it, feel like a bad dad, become more impatient, and blow it again. Days like today remind me how much this corporate dad still has to learn. On the bright side, I apologized to my son when I put him to bed. He replied, "I still love you. You just made a bad choice." Unfortunately, he's had to forgive me many times for the same mistake. I'm not sure that is teaching him true repentance. But, how lucky I am that he is so forgiving. So, back to my quest. I need to learn to discern between those things I need to control and those things I do not need to control, and give up the latter. Good luck!

Location, Location, Location

They hung on every word I said as I searched the house for them during hide-and-seek. They followed me without my saying a word when I paused from playing to do my work-out. They told me what was on their minds when I picked them up to snuggle or tickle them. But when I asked my son to help pick-up toys, he played with them. When I asked my daughter to set something on the table, she turned and walked away. When I reminded my son he had to try everything Mommy made for dinner, he covered his ears. All through dinner I kept thinking about this barrier between me and my children, as if it were a pane of glass through which they can see my mouth moving and my hands gesturing but they can only make out the sound similar to what the Peanuts gang hears when adults speak. If there is one thing I'm beginning to learn, it's that whether my kids hear me depends upon where I am standing when I speak to them. Am I on their side of the glass or mine? Does there even need to be a glass pane? The difference in the examples above is becoming more personal to me. The second set of examples of communication is not inherently wrong, nor is the first set of examples inherently right. I find that in the second set of examples, however, I typically engage my kids with some form of guile, meaning I look happy on the outside but feel frustration or impatience on the inside. Or I am frustrated and impatient outwardly, but inside I know I am being lazy or selfish. I think kids can sense the disconnect between reason and emotion, but do not know how to communicate on such a nuanced plane. So, they ignore it, misinterpret it, get frustrated by it, joke about it, or run away from it. They are only 4, 2, and 1, after all. They communicate on a plane of innocence, where reason and emotion are both transparent, and often so in sync as to be indistinguishable. They are guileless. My theory is that when I engage them as in the first set of examples, they are more responsive because I'm more prone to engage them on their plane of communication--innocently, without other motives. The principle I draw from this is much more simple that the discussion of it: I need to make sure I engage them with pure motives or they won't be responsive. That necessarily means I need to hold my tongue until I'm sure I'm not issuing commands or lecturing out of pride or selfishness.

When Preschool Changed Valentine's Day

This morning I entered the office and wished the judge's assistant a happy Valentine's day. I asked her if she had any plans. She replied, "Nah. It's a made-up holiday." Then my supervisor came in, and I wished him a happy Valentine's day. He said, "Ah. It's a made-up holiday." They have a point. As my mother used to say regarding Mother's day, "I don't like it when people are forced to do something for me that they should be doing every day." (It's amazing she says it with such composure after eight kids). In reality, Valentine's day changes over time. When I was dating someone, I always made an extra effort to do something sweet on Valentine's day. When my wife and I were first married, we didn't really need Valentine's day because we were mushy all the time. Then kids came along, and we were too poor to do anything for Valentine's day anyway. But preschool breathed new life into Valentine's day. Our four-year old son became so excited about Valentine's day as he learned about it in preschool. Now, after several years of letting Valentine's day more or less go by, we all wore red or pink (just a heart-designed tie for me), and we had heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast, heart-shaped sandwiches for lunch, and heart-shaped pizza for dinner (by candle light, of course). My wife got them stuffed animals. I spent my lunch making pitiful origami cards for the kids. We also spent the whole weekend making valentines for our son's whole class, including the gerbal. Perhaps, when the kids have moved on, we'll go back to the "Ah. It's a made up holiday" mode. But for now, thanks to preschool, my wife, the kids, and I are enjoying feeling a little closer by getting into the festivities.

Look Closely, Messy Kitchen, Child's Prayer

Look Closely--Yet again we've discovered the source of another troubling trait in our children. First, the trait. I'm certain I am not the only father who responds, "Go look in your room" when my children ask me the location of something that belongs to them, a costume, a toy, a water bottle, etc. I'm also certain I'm not the only parent to witness my children walk begrudgingly up to their rooms and return and say, "I didn't see it" or "it's not there" after barely peeking in through the door. Well, my wife asked me to look in a bin for our daughter's church shoes today. I shuffled around in there for a minute before calling back to her, "I can't find it!" A second more of looking, and I found it. Then, this afternoon, I looked in the fridge to see if we had something for a sandwich. I saw what I assumed was almond butter on the bottom shelf (because that's the only kind of nut butter I've ever seen in the fridge). It made me think, "a peanut butter sandwich sounds good." So, I went to the cupboard and grabbed a brand new jar of peanut butter. I broke the seal and opened it. My wife walked in right as I dipped the knife in to stir it and said, "No!" with the bitter disappointment of someone who'd just bet her life savings on the wrong horse. The jar I just opened was the same organic peanut butter I saw in the fridge. Now, this jar would have to go in the fridge, and it's unlikely we'll be able to polish off both jars before one or both goes bad. Oops. Just as my son walked into the kitchen to see what happened, my wife lectured me about how I am lazy when it comes to looking for things at home. "You need to look carefully," she said. I admit I was a little embarrassed getting this lecture in front of my son, but my wife said she was glad he was there because she got a two-for-one deal. You guessed it. Just as I am the likely source of my children's lazy listening, I am clearly the source of their lazy looking. All of this self-awareness starts to get painful after a while!

Messy Kitchen--But it's not over yet. After our beautiful Sunday dinner tonight, I walked into the kitchen to grab something and walked back to the table as carefree as could be. However, my wife, who had apparently been carrying this burden all evening finally confessed, "I'm sorry the kitchen is a mess!" It is true that this dinner required the use of more dishes than usual, and the kids played in the kitchen a little bit and left a clear trail of toys, but that is the price of my wife's wonderful cuisine. I didn't mind. What troubled me is that she thought I would mind, probably because up until recently I it's true, I would have. I am a very particular guy. I am not home with the kids to learn to lighten up a little when it comes to organization and order. In fact, I remember several weekends and even birthday parties or dinners with guests where I cleaned up after people the whole time instead of socializing. I've since loosened my strings a little and learned to enjoy moments instead of stress about them. But apparently, this string has taken a little longer to loosen. Thanks, Honey, for a wonderful dinner. I didn't mind the dishes. (I told her in person too).

Child's Prayer--I know that our children came to us with spiritual gifts developed or given long before their time here. I also know that many other parents feel that way. Often, children say or do things that are so mature, profound, inspired, etc. that there is no denying it. Perhaps the most frequent manifestation of this reality is in a child's prayer. My son prayed tonight, "We're thankful for this wonderful day. Please bless that I can be good. Please bless that I can sleep well tonight, and (everyone in the family listed by name), and anyone else. And please bless the earth." My son has been praying without any prompting for almost two years now. These are his own thoughts and feelings, and I wonder at his ability to tune into them so well at such a young age. As I've said before, I'm inspired by the innocence, sincerity, and tenderness of his prayers.

"Rina"

Finally, the spark we've all been waiting for, some inkling of independent interest in a constructive use for all of that energy. This morning our two-year old picked out her own clothes: tights, a long blouse, and a sweater. Then she tip-toed in circles around the living room with her arms arched up over her head. She said, "Yook, rina!" She wants to be a ballerina. I would have signed her up that second if I could have. She dances around on her own now, even to classical music on the radio. Although I am excited about this interest of hers, she makes sure to remind us that she is still rough and tough. But, that's probably a good quality that she'll need when dealing with other ballerinas in the future. This revelation felt strangely like the day we noticed our son taking a keen interest in soccer. As a father, I didn't think life could get any better than cheering my son on in soccer matches, especially when, as a three-year old, he broke from the norm and decided he wanted to play goalie. I have a feeling being the father of a ballerina, especially this one, will be just as exciting.

Imagination Station

My kids have great imaginations. Just today, my son was in what I now call his "imagination station," also known as the bathroom, singing and acting things out at the top of his lungs while sitting on the toilet. This was at least a 15-minute exercise. Pretty impressive. Well, because I was such a grump yesterday I determined on the way to work to surprise them after work by showing my imagination. Shortly after getting home, I ran up to my room to change into the karate outfit my son made for me as a Christmas present. Then I came down and had a nice little karate fight with my son, which turned into a family wrestling match that included my wife and baby. Once the imagination kicks in it's hard to stop. Somehow we ended the night acting like monkeys. Amazingly, I convinced my kids to get ready for bed and change into their pajamas using monkey calls. I don't know what got into me. Either way, it seemed to work better than speaking human, so I might do it again tomorrow night.

Bad Combo: Late Dinner and Bath Night

What's worse than a tired dad? A hungry dad. What's worse than a hungry dad, a hungry dad who still has to bath the kids. Over the years my wife and I have developed a pretty good system in the evenings. She cooks while I play with the kids. She clears the dishes while I bath the kids. Then we get them ready for bed together. I tell a story while she feeds the baby a bottle. To finish off, one of us reads to the girls and puts them to bed while the other does the same for our son. Our son is older, so he gets longer books. The parent not reading to him starts on the dishes. Then we finish cleaning up shop together and try to relax or get to other personal projects until we go to bed. It's a pretty packed schedule, so getting behind really delays our final clean up and shortens our personal time. My wife has set a goal for herself, of which I am the principle beneficiary, to learn new and healthier recipes. Dinners were wonderful before, but both of us enjoy these new recipes. To make this short, the recipe took longer than it advertised, and dinner was late. I was also late from work and was too lazy to make myself a good lunch. So I came home extra hungry. I found myself trying very hard to be supportive of my wife's goal, but I kept losing my temper with the kids. I decided to break from our system and bathed the kids before dinner. There was a risk that they would get dirty again during dinner, but I decided that a little dirt would be better than losing my temper stressing over diminishing personal time at the end of the night.

Listen to What I Mean, Not What I Say

Although I am an attorney, I am not always precise, especially when communicating casually with my family. I've often had to back-track a little by saying, "that's not what I meant." Over time, I've made somewhat of a joke of it. Now I respond, "Listen to what I mean, not what I say." As with every piece of advice that comes out of my mouth, some experience with my kids forces me to either eat those words or take my own advice. Today's example involved a brilliant idea I had to build a little obstacle course for my baby girl to crawl over so that she would stop climbing the big stair case for a while, a distraction of sorts. My son took one look at what I made with the cushions and said, "This is a bad idea." Scarcely had I turned to walk into the kitchen to chat with my wife when I heard a light "thud," my baby crying, and my upset son yelling at the top of his lungs, "DADDY! I. TOLD. YOU. THIS. WAS. A. BAD. IDEA!" There was obvious scolding in his voice, but there was something else in there too--pain. My son is very protective of his sisters, paternal almost. He watches out for them lovingly and loyally, and he is very tender toward them. It took some tuning in, but noticing that he hurt when his sister got hurt made me realize that what he was really saying is, "Daddy. My sister got hurt, and I don't want her to hurt." This wasn't disrespect or being a bossy cow. This was an expression of concern for his sister, and it was very sweet. After picking up and comforting the baby (who only rolled 2 inches off of a couch cushion onto a thin carpet rug, by the way), I put my arm around him and told him I appreciated how much he cares about his sisters.

As a side note, this is one of many things that my kids did today that reminded me how wonderful they are and how lucky I am. There seem to be days when every time I look over at the kids they are doing something that reminds me how grateful I am to have such good kids. These moments tend to over-power those not-so-grateful moments, at least for me. It is a different world out east. People are very busy and very focused in on very few aspects of life. My wife and other friends have commented on how other grocery store patrons look at them with their three children in a way that can only be described as a mix between seeing an alien land right in front of them and discovering that your child has stayed out past curfew--kind of a shock/patronizing disapproval look. Though there are so many who are not like that--my judge and coworkers in the chambers, for example--I feel bad for those who are. If only they knew how fulfilling it is to raise children and see them do things like sit down at the breakfast table to have a conversation with Mommy, or team-up while playing hide-and-seek, or sit silently together looking at picture books in their pajamas, or commented on how pretty my wife looks as she and I are getting ready to go out. All of those things happened today. A favorite phrase that onlookers use is, "Boy, you sure have your hands full!" I think that if they knew what they were missing, they'd wish they had their hands full too.

Rules of Swordplay

I came home to an empty house. But I knew that my family would be home soon so I started boiling water for spaghetti. I wanted to impress my wife by trying to be helpful. But it was not to be. She came home before I could get the spaghetti in the pot and made something else. Instead, I went downstairs to play with the kids. Unfortunately, the kids did not come home happy. It wasn't because they didn't have a good day. On the contrary, they were tired from having too much fun at their cousin's house. It was hard to get them downstairs to play while my wife made dinner, but I finally managed to get my son to play swords. We pretended that he was a bad guy who injured me. So, as I pretended to expire I charged my little girl to defend my honor, gasping, "Do it for Daddy!" Inspired, she picked up the sword and began swinging away. But, in a moment of distraction, my son knocked the sword out of her hand. Then came the silence we all fear, as she inhaled slowly, paused, then screamed as loudly and as high-pitched as she could. She screamed so loudly that she scared her older brother and made him cry. So, instead of sword fighting nicely, they both ran into the kitchen to Mommy screaming and crying. So much for my efforts to be helpful.

Love and Logic

I am hesitant to write this post, only because I know corporate dads don't have a lot of time to read parenting books (no parent of small children does, for that matter). However, I recommend at least reading something at some point, if for no other reason than to have a tool in your belt. In other words, have you ever been at a loss or caught off guard by a situation that pops up with your kids at home? I'm certain I'm not the only one. In fact, I feel like I get caught off guard more than most. I used to be a very patient person before one child turned into three and some of them are now older than two and smarter than me. Plus, it is truly frustrating for an attorney to explain something with perfect clarity (as is our practice when not getting paid by the hour), only to have it disregarded in 2.5 seconds, if it was ever understood in the first place. It feels at these times that I turn from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde just as quickly. I appreciate my wife recommending a book, the title of which even appeals to lawyers, called "Parenting with Love and Logic." As I've read the book and put the tools into practice, though imperfectly, I've already seen a difference. I believe the reason is that it acts as a substitute for Mr. Hyde. Dr. Jekyll gets to hang around a bit longer. Because frustration is a common reaction for a corporate dad, probably because it's nearly impossible not to bring work home--it always weighs on our minds--we typically have a shorter fuses than we might have had before having kids. I'm not planning on recommending more parenting books, but if you don't already have some kind of back-up to quick frustration, this is a good option.

Zucchini Bread and a New Choice

It has been said before, including on this blog, that family dinner is one of the greatest contributors to the intellectual development of children. It also develops strong families. It has been my goal to be there for family dinners throughout my career. Sunday, however, are special family dinners. They are more relaxed and we try to spend more time talking and sitting together at the table. We are developing a strategy with our two-year old that even when she claims to be done, she must stay strapped into her booster until everyone is done. We tell her, "we want everyone to be together at the table at dinner time." She was very resistant at first, but she is much more willing now. We try not to be forceful. We at least excuse them to go to the bathroom. Despite our efforts, however, we have had a hard time getting everyone to stay at the table for very long. It helps that my wife reserves Sunday dinners for dinners that she knows the kids love, like spaghetti or ginger chicken. That guarantees us a few minutes at least. But my wife discovered a new weapon for family togetherness--zucchini bread. I can't remember ever spending that much time at the dinner table together, and everyone was happy about it.

On another note, our son, who is really the best four-year old I've ever met, has days or moments where he kind of disregards us. I can understand not always hearing his name called from across the house. He probably can't hear it as much as parents think--kids are not waiting with bated breath for us to call their names--his four-year old mind is also busy discovering and analyzing or imagining things. It's a lot to take in already, even without a parent shouting his name. To be honest, I wouldn't like it anyway. We try to go to the person whose attention we are seeking and get their attention in a less ostentatious way, if possible. But even when we do that, he sometimes outright ignores us or walks away. My wife has reminded me that he is four and that I should not get offended when I am ignored sometimes in the calling a child's name scenario. However, she agrees with me that in this case it is unacceptable. So, my son has been given a new choice--stay and respond then listen and obey, or I "help" him to do so. Being the smart and independent boy he is, he caught on quickly and much prefers doing things himself than having his father hover over him and physically guide him around. He will do anything to guard that freedom. Of course, I also must refrain from being too forceful or making excessive attempts to get his attention for things. One thing I am learning is that giving him choices builds him up and strengthens mutual respect, forcing behavior not only fails at some point but also merely provokes him and pushes him away.

An Experiment Gone Terribly Wrong

There are moments where we get an idea, and we think the idea is brilliant, inspired, and bound to yield miraculous results. Those ideas are especially welcome when learning how to reach the needs of a little girl who often seems like a law unto herself. When I heard banging and crashing over the monitor instead of the silent rumble of the air filter during our daughter's nap, I was frustrated. When she should be sleeping, she creeps around the room, pulls open every drawer, and removes everything looking for the perfect cloth to compliment her thumb sucking. When I tucked her back in and it happened again I was perturbed. When it happened a third time I was angry. I stormed up to her room, picked her up from the floor where she had just open her blanket bin and threw them everywhere, and put her in our baby's crib to sleep. Well, the monitor was only slightly quieter. My angry response really bothered me and consumed my thoughts for a while, when I finally decided to put her back into her toddler bed as a way to show that I was sorry for losing my temper. But, the same banging and crashing happened again. As I was still feeling remorseful, I tried to think of what I could do. I know my daughter is brilliant, curious, energetic, etc., and that one day she will find a cure for cancer or engineer the first human habitat on another planet. But even scientists and engineers need to learn existing rules before they fashion new ones. For some reason the song, "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria" came to my head. As I still felt remorseful, I felt inspired to experiment by walking into her room while she was wreaking havoc instead of sleeping, turn on the light, leave some train track pieces in the middle of the floor, and walk out without saying a thing. Seeing the confused look on her face was pretty humorous. Things were quiet for a while before the banging and the crashing started again. But, I stayed downstairs hoping that there was a possibility that if she chose not to nap, she would at least use the time constructively. Another CRASH, followed by a little voice saying, "Uh Oh!" dashed those hopes. Up I went to find drawers pulled out, bins opened, clothes and linens everywhere, and of course a little girl with soaking wet pants. On the bright side, she did figure out how to build a short train track. I was speechless--by choice, because I didn't want to say anything unkind in my anger. I changed the sheets and cleaned up the room, all the while giving her a lecture that I knew she didn't understand and would do no good. She did repeat a couple of words though, like "yisten" and "obey". Before I finished cleaning, my daughter climbed back onto the bed, getting the clean sheets wet from her pants. I put her in the bath with her baby sister, whom she had woken up with her racket, and re-changed the sheet. When everything was back to normal, my daughter put on her cutest act, of course, pretending to go "bye-bye" into a fort we built and saying, "I'll miss you!" It took until dinner for embers of frustration to finally go out, but they did. She's asleep and cute as can be again. But sometimes I hope that she will be discovered at the age of two by some brilliant scientist who sees her potential and agrees to take her right now and train her full-time. I reckon the seeds of greatness in a little child often yields a little extra frustration for the parents. Sweetie, when you read this post in the future, I hope you take it as a compliment or at least get a little laugh out of it. You really are a priceless jewel.

Time for the Littlest Show Off

Our plan tonight was to have my wife take the two oldest shopping for my birthday while I stayed home with the baby. At first I was excited to have the evening alone with her. We don't get much one-on-one time. Then, when I realized she would just calmly crawl around and play with toys, I was immediately tempted to get things done. In my mind I thought, "She doesn't care!" Keeping this blog has helped me to be a little more self-aware when it comes to those kinds of impulses, and I decided to try and fight it off by reading her a few books and wrestling around with her (in a baby-friendly way, of course). Suddenly, she started pushing herself up from the edge of the couch (after reading) or from my belly (while wrestling) and stand up on her own for a couple of seconds at a time. She'd then turn to me and smile for approval. Of course, I was excited for her and clapped and cheered. She must have liked the reaction because she did it several times more. My excitement then went up another level when my wife came back home and said, "She hasn't done that for me yet." Finally! Daddy gets a first! It makes me feel good that she wanted to show off for me. Time well spent.

Pivotal Prayers

There is nothing like Christmas to teach a child about prayer, and the parents for that matter. "But Christmas is over!" you say. No. Not in the heart of one little four-year old I know. Not wanting Christmas to end, our son asked us if he could keep the miniature Christmas tree in his room. We loved that he wants to celebrate Christmas all year long. Tonight, however, something was wrong with his tree: the star didn't light up. Recalling our prayers during the recent snow storm that knocked out the power in our home, and that the power returned almost immediately, our son offered this in his nightly prayer, "And please bless that the Christmas tree star will go back on." My first thought was, "Well, this is an easy answer to prayers. I'm sure my wife just unplugged the connection because it's too bright as a night-light." When I checked, it was still plugged in. My son watched me check the star and reminded me that "Heavenly Father will turn it back on." This is where the parent learns to pray, because in my heart that is what I was doing. I didn't want to say anything that would shatter a four-year old's faith in prayer or confuse him about why his prayer over restoring power to the entire house miraculously worked but his prayer over the Christmas star light didn't. Didn't it? At least, I felt that I should tell him that before prayers are answered Heavenly Father expects us to do everything we can on our own. So, I promised him I would do my best to fix it. Now, as I am about to attempt to fix the light, I'm praying again that whether I fix it or not, I'll know what to tell him. I feel that if I can fix it, I should explain that sometimes prayers are answered through other people. If I can't fix it, it will be much harder to explain. Sometimes we what we ask for is not His will, but He doesn't always tell us why. In my experience, we find out only after exercising patience and trust, and we are usually grateful He didn't grant us what we wanted that time. But, is that too much for a four-year old to understand, especially when it's just a light? We'll soon find out. Maybe, both as to my son and his prayer for the Christmas star, the scripture will ring true, out of small things which seem like foolishness to men will great things come to pass.

The Subtleties of Hide-and-Seek

Working from home is great, where possible. The commute time is 15 seconds from my room to the family room. This gives us extra time to play before dinner. Tonight's game, hide-and-seek. Maybe it's their age, or that I haven't played this game with them as much as I should, but I've noticed some strategies employed by my two oldest that may make it hard for them to win this game when playing with their friends in the future:

-Saying, "I'll hide right here," after I say I'm going to count.

-Hiding where I just hid every single time it's their turn.

-Yelling, "You can't find us!" from their hiding place.

-Giggling.

-Playing with nearby items in their hiding place, such as mommy's weights in the main floor bathroom.

-Yelling, "We're right here!" to help me out when I pretend I can't find them.

Obviously, we need to spend more time working on the subtleties of the game!

Finding a Dream Home

We're in the process of house hunting. Of course, we are trying to determine the things we think we need in a home, focusing our attention on square footage, number of rooms, yard, commute, schools, stores, amenities, price, ROI, etc. While in this process, our son decided to help us out by drawing pictures of what he considers the essential in our new home. He explained them to me after work today:

--A Pool

--Lots of Trees to Hunt Bats in the Forest

--A Couch with No Cushions

--A Fireplace

--A House with a Chimney

--Lots and Lots and Lots of Boxes

--Ninja Shoes

Maybe it wouldn't hurt my wife and me to reexamine our list of "needs" a little.