Knee Pads

One of our best family adventures was a visit to Medieval Times where our older two children were captivated by the knights in shining armor jousting with each other. Grandpa was with us and good enough to spoil the kids with the retractable kids lances. It was only a matter of time before our kids convinced me and Mommy to get on our hands and knees and be the horses while our kids jousted. Tonight was that night, and boy did it hurt our knees. But it was fun and worth to see the kids laughing so much. I'm certain that I need to invest in knee pads if I'm going to be a horse on a hard-wood floor.

Rainy Nights and Useless Distinctions

Somehow rainy nights spark imagination and camp songs. We are not above such things. The kids went straight to the window to watch the rain, and my wife and I starting singing, "If all the rain drops were lemon drops and gum drops . . . ." Each of our kids told us what they wanted the rain drops to be. It was a lot of fun. Despite how fun I thought I was, when the kids were tired they abandoned me and went straight to Mommy. The girls were fighting over Mommy's lap, and my son was climbing onto her shoulders. I even plead for someone to snuggle with me. No takers. At least my son was excited for me to put him to bed.

As a legal tool, distinctions are effective for demonstrating why one party is right and the opposing party is wrong based on a given precedent or law. As a parenting tool, it is a waste of breath. For example, when my son purposely knocked the water bottle out of my daughter's hand onto the floor, I led him into his room, where he started to cry. He said I hurt his feelings because I pushed him. I began to explain that I did not push him, I gently guided him into his room, but I stopped myself midsentence. I have tried to make distinctions before and they have almost all failed, at least where there is any subtlety involved. It wasn't worth it. So, I said, "I'm sorry if it felt like I pushed you. I did not mean to do that, and I am not mad. But you know that whenever you hit Mommy and Daddy have to take you to your room for time-out." The apology that my actions were misunderstood, along with a hug, did much more to diffuse the situation then trying to argue distinctions. I could do that and still be straightforward about the discipline agreed upon for hitting. The home is not a courtroom. In the home, whoever argues, no matter how persuasive or well-founded the argument, loses.

Lessons from Restaurant and Toys

After a long day at work and at home, it seemed like a good idea to go out to dinner--no dishes, no sweeping, etc. I wasn't so sure when we got to the restaurant. There was nothing but screaming and whining until they finally had food in their stomachs. It was tough-going at first, but it ended up being worth it. Interestingly, our toddler did something minor, maybe dropped something, and when I helped her clean it up she said, "You aren't mad Daddy?" It was a bit of a wake-up call. Then we went to the toy store. Our son saved up his money to buy another snake toy, but we didn't leave with a snake. Nope, we left with a sea crab. And, it took quite a while to choose it. He gathered a group of his favorites. I thought it would help to group similar favorites together. I asked, "Which one of these two do you like better, this one or that one?" "I like this one," he'd answer while pointing to both. We're buying toys online from now on.

Don't Laugh. This Is Serious.

The first impulse we have when we hear our son say something brilliant is to laugh. "It's so cute," we say. Until, at some point, he asks, "Why are you laughing?" and appears to become more insecure about sharing what's on his mind. My wife explained, "We shouldn't laugh, because we don't want him to think we don't take him seriously." At dinner tonight our son surprised a friend who asked him about a toy he was playing with. She asked, "What is that?" He replied, "A sea snake." "What kind of sea snake?" she responded. "Well," he answered, "it's either a banded rock sea krait or a yellow bellied sea snake." Surprised, she said, "Aren't you four years old?" "Yes," she said. Then our friend, a pre-school teacher, said, "You should teach pre-school." Throughout this conversation, I wanted to laugh when matter-of-factness when providing such a sophisticated answer took her by surprise, because it was cute. I realized how much that would have embarrassed him in a conversation with another adult. He obviously can talk the talk with adults in so many areas, and I want him to feel comfortable doing so. In his mind he isn't just a cute little boy anymore--although that is a stage we don't want to rush through--he is an intelligent big boy, and an authority of sorts on snakes, a herpetologist in the making. And why not encourage that confidence? So, no laughs from me tonight. Instead, I just sat back and observed with obvious pride beaming from my face.

Fewer Books, More Conversation

The original idea of giving our son a certain number of books at night seemed like a good idea at the time. He loves reading, and it was an incentive to obedience. In addition, it was important time to grow closer as "the boys." As our son grew older, he began asking more and more questions. More questions means that the same number of books takes more time to complete, time we'd rather he spend sleeping so he's not grumpy in the morning and so that we can get our stuff done at night. My solution was to try and rush him through his questions and comments in order to finish the books so that it wouldn't take all night. The result seemed to be that we lost much of the close relationship we had. As he gets older, I think the dynamics of the father/son relationship changes a little. I almost think the older he gets the more affirmation he needs from me, and that instead of providing it I focused too much on sticking closely to the nightly schedule. Finally, last night I felt as though I was missing the point of reading to my son. Yes, I want him to be smart, and yes, I want him to read, but it is not the act of reading to him that accomplishes those goals. Instead, after reading the books last night, I apologized for rushing him and proposed that we just read what we can until bedtime so that we can talk about things that come to his mind. He liked that idea and tonight was the first try. It was a success. It has been a long time since we laughed together that much before putting him to bed. I think he felt that my focus was him rather than the clock. I also think that smart kids and good kids are better developed by quality time than by trying to upload a bunch of information into their heads. With this new approach, we joked, discussed questions, learned a lot, and grew closer. I needed this as much as he might have. I missed feeling this kind of closeness with my son. Like bathing them one at a time, I think this read-what-we-can-before-bedtime idea is a better to have quality time and still stay on schedule.

Boo Boos, "I Okay Now"

As I walked up to the front of our home, my family was coming out to feed the neighbor's cat while they were away for the weekend. Right away I noticed that one side of our baby's face was darker than the other. As I came closer I realized that one half of her face had been scraped up. I was told she didn't cry very much, and it probably isn't that big of a deal. The problem is that I have an automatic response to seeing my kids' injuries. My heart immediately breaks, and it did this time too, despite that fact that she was smiling at me from ear to ear. In fact, her cute smile may have made me feel even more sympathetic.

Much harder to deal with are the boo boos that face my four-year old son in social situations. Three is not a charm! When one of the three children that age has a strong personality and has not learned how to be kind to others, she often picks a sidekick and the two torment the third by telling him to go away, etc. I am very bothered by that kind of bullying among four- and five-year old kids, but grateful that my son doesn't fall into that trap too often though he's been known to do the same thing--to a much lesser degree of unkindness--with his little sisters sometimes. As much as my heart breaks for my baby with the scraped-up face, it always breaks much more for the little boy who is treated unkindly by other kids his age for no good reason. The tricky part is that, whereas all my baby needs when she gets hurt is extra love from us, my son needs something different. He is at the age where he needs some good friends as well.

On the other hand, I'm starting to figure out how to help our toddler through her difficulties. Tonight she wanted something that she had to wait for, but she didn't want to wait. The disappointment was apparently overpowering and she threw a fit. We just let it happen. To our surprise, after a minute or so, she suddenly said in a peaceful little voice, "I okay now."

Dad Fly

We've all heard of the gad fly buzzing around the hind parts of cattle, who want nothing more than to swat it away with their tails. Many have compared their role in society, for better or for worse, to the gad fly: bards, poets, politicians, the press, etc. Many people have compared people in their lives, usually for worse, to the gad fly: spouses (not mine, of course), mothers-in-law (again, not mine), the know-it-all cousin (luckily I don't have one of those, etc. No matter who they are, all of us just want to swat that person away too. There is nothing worse than getting nagged. Last night and all through the day today.I've been consumed by this one thought: I think that I am doing to my kids what I dislike others doing to me--I'm a nag--the dad fly! I'm an attorney. I require things to be in logical order, even my kids. Boy would it be terrible to be in their shoes sometimes. Tonight I was determined not to nag, to let things go, to pretend it's not a big deal. Interestingly enough, pretending helps. In fact, pretending that it wasn't a big deal when something was out of logical order convinced me that it is true. It is a lawyer trick I've never tried at home: assume the solution and see what happens. Well, it worked, and when the dad fly disappeared my kids were much happier. Who wouldn't be?

Two-Year Old Obedience

Really a perfect evening, even though I am home alone to put the kids to bed. We've had a lot of fun, and they've been so good. But what is a good day without a little mischief from our two-year old, right? At least that is her philosophy. As I laid her down, she moved as if to get up off of the bed. We've been through this before, so I warned her, "Please don't get up. If you do, I'm taking away the toys." The toys refers to a stuffed bear and snake that our son lent her to sleep with tonight--other people's toys are always more fun. Slowly, ever so slowly, she rolled onto her side, slid her leg off the side of the bed, then placed her foot on the floor, all while I was standing at the doorway, and all within 60 seconds of my warning. Oh yes, and all while she was looking straight at me. The second she placed her foot on the floor, I whisked her back onto her bed, took the toys, kissed her on the forehead, and left. But before I left, she cried, "Don't take the toys!" to which I responded with a whisper in her ear, "You didn't listen. I love you. Good night." Sometimes I wonder if it is two-year old listening or if it will last until much later. I guess neither my wife nor I were all-star listeners either when we were growing up. I'm starting to feel very old and worn already just thinking about what's ahead.

Sleeping at Dinner

This post is about my two-year old falling asleep at the dinner table. It was too cute not to mention. She laid her head on my wife's shoulder and held her left arm while the rest of us ate. I loved laying her down, getting her in her bedtime clothes, and brushing her teeth all while she was half-asleep on the bed. She seems to be at her most cooperative then. For example, she laid there with her eyes closed, body limp, holding her mouth open for me to brush her teeth. After I whispered, "Okay, I'm done," she closed it and nodded off to sleep.

Slap on the Hand

Despite joking about the benefits of using the old-fashioned forms of discipline, the reality is that I don't agree with spanking or anything like that. My daughter pushed the baby's face into the water at bath time today, and I slapped my daughter's hand. I told her that I wasn't angry, and that I wasn't sure whether I did the right thing, but I wanted her to remember that that is never okay. I still feel horrible. One the one hand, it is like the wise mother who said that the only time she would spank a child is when the child ran out into the street, not because it makes a parent angry but because it makes a parent scared and the child needs to know that it is uncommonly serious. On the other hand, we tell our kids not to hit, but it doesn't matter if they see us hit. Are they too young to understand the difference? I'll let you know if I ever figure this out. All I know is that I feel worse than if I'd received a slap on the hand.

Father's Day Moments

I still remember when my Dad told us of the Father's Day when the newest addition to our home pooped on his suit at church. In the back of my mind, now having young kids myself, I half expect something similar to happen to me on Father's Day. Thankfully, it didn't. In fact, Father's Day was very special this year. Some of the highlights include a delicious turkey BLT sandwich my wife made for me for lunch, an M&M bow tie that my son made for me, and some very thoughtful gifts of things that I really need. In fact, my wife gave me some gifts that will help me progress in a hobby--a constructive one--that I know exasperates her sometimes. That's true love. My wife also wrote a beautiful note and had the kids dictate a similar note. I won't repeat what my wife wrote, because it would embarrass her, but it was very sweet. My son wrote about how I draw pictures for him of snakes, knights, etc., wrestle with him, take him places, give him food he likes, and "gives me anything I want." Interestingly, he also said that he loves me because I "love me and lets me earn things." My daughter wrote, "I love Daddy plays with me. I can't talk." My son also wrote a thoughtful and insightful note in preschool that said,

"If you asked me what my Dad looks like, I would say: he has little hair. He wears his church [clothes] even to work."

"When my Daddy goes to work: he maybe sometimes reads stuff."

"My Daddy is really good at: wrestling."

"One thing that I really like to do with my Dad is: play costumes . . . he doesn't wear them as much."

Two of the best moments came at dinner time. My daughter put her head on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around mine, and said, "I love you, Daddy." Later, my son said, "I want to be just like Daddy. I don't want to have any hair when I grow up."

Recovery and Noticing Everything

First, recovering from vacation isn't pretty. Our baby girl was unpleasant most of the day. She woke up angry and we finally put her back to bed. We let her sleep as long as she wanted. She woke up happy and playful, but that lasted only about an hour. We put her back to bed and she slept until about an hour before dinner. Finally, she was happy for most of the evening. I hope she has recovered.

Second, our son notices everything. He wanted to ride with a relative to the beach the other day, and the driver joked about playing a bad song on the radio. My son later asked her what the song was by the title. Then tonight he noticed no less than four legitimate mistakes in the snake book I read to him. I think I'm going to write to the editor. The scary part is wondering what they notice us doing. Just at nap time, I overheard my two-year old scolding her doll for not listening.

Desperate Clinging

We've been through this with the older two, so we knew it was coming. We should have known it would also come shortly after our family reunion, when internal clocks get messed up and babies get left with sitters at night when we go out. With each attempt to lay her down, she suddenly clung desperately to my shoulders with her hands and to my waist with her legs and would start to scream. My first instinct was to calm her and comfort her, but after the third attempt or so I had to force myself to lay her down and let her scream--I mean really scream. It was hard, but I knew that rocking her to sleep would only prolong this issue, and that the sooner I left the sooner she would calm herself and go to sleep. Hopefully, she can transition out of this phase the way the other kids did.

An Knight and A Princess

Last night we went to Medieval Times. We only took the two oldest. Both were too shy to greet the king or any of the knights, but both were also really into the show. Our son had saved some money to get a camera, so he was taking pictures throughout dinner and the horse show. But when the tournament began his eyes were glued to the arena. He didn't even eat or take pictures. I'm certain he was memorizing every fighting move and every weapon name so that he could use them on me next time we wrestled. Our daughter, who always wins our hearts over with her beautiful smile, also won our knight over. He kissed a flower and threw it to her. She offered her charming shy smile as she sat there in her booster seat wearing a crown and looking like a princess. I couldn't keep my eyes off of the kids. Although the show was great, I love watching my kids experience things like this for the first time. The only sad part, besides our daughter accidentally knocking her chalice of soda onto my wife's lap, was that my four-year old son only wanted to sit by his cousin, but not me. I guess this was bound to start happening at some point. I remember how much I wanted to be with friends rather than family at times growing up. I guess I don't want my kids to grow up. Either way, it was a memorable night and wonderful to see the innocent fascination in my kids' eyes throughout the show.

The Perfect Day

What makes them perfect is not that they are without some struggles or downsides, but that you couldn't dream up the wonderful moments and memories that come with them. What makes them perfect is also the effect or result of the day. We become closer and happier. We grow together and individually. We love and appreciate more about each other and life. This doesn't happen often, but it tends to happen when our family shares meaningful and constructive activities together. With extended family in town, we went to Assateague Island, which is a long stretch of beach on the Atlantic shore of Maryland where wild horses live. Not only did the horses come out to the beach to say "hello," but I watched as my wife enjoyed talking with her family and as my girls played in the sand together. I watched as my son ran through the shallow water with his cousin, karate kicking little waves, building things in the sand, and doing other imaginative things. I watched the kids fly a kite with their uncle. I watched my older daughter feed seagulls with her aunt. I watched as we set out to collect shells with the grandparents and others on a walk along the beach. My son and I built the wall of a little inlet swimming pool. Sometimes I would chase him and dip him in the bigger waves. My girls and I played in the sand with buckets and shovels. We saved a horseshoe crab and collected the shells of dead ones. We watched baby crabs dig back into the sand after waves subsided. I body surfed with my brother- and father-in-law. I walked along the beach to put my baby girl to sleep. The kids were smiling from ear to ear virtually the entire day. Playing together on that beautiful beach made me feel closer to my wife and kids. Even the ride home was pretty fun, though the baby was very tired and fussy. We sang silly camp songs. Then we went to McDonald's (there was a little break-down over the Happy Meal toy). Then I sang them to sleep on the road and spent the rest of the drive talking with my wife about different things while she fed me to keep me awake (it doesn't get much better than that). Finally, we carried our sweet, sleeping children up to their beds and tucked them in. What I love about these days is that we experience the same beautiful moments together, and we become better friends by laughing and playing together, chasing each other or talking or snuggling or just watching and appreciating how grown up they are becoming. I also love that these meaningful moments bring me back into perspective and tie us together with fond memories. Even though my wife did step on a piece of metal, and crabs pinched our toes as we body surfed, and the baby had a hard time falling asleep, I would still consider this one of those "perfect" days.

Wrong Again

Today reminds me to breakfast a few days ago. My daughter finished her cereal then began painting the dinner table using a spoonful of the excess milk. Excited, she exclaimed, "Daddy, look what I made!" I promptly responded, "A mess!" I thought I was right at the time, but man I felt guilty the rest of the day. Similarly, when we put our two-year old in a pull-up, I told her that she wasn't a big girl anymore, and that we were going to treat her like a baby. It may seem mean, I know, and it is. I felt so bad that I sang her to sleep last night, holding her hand. I think I've been a little hard on her, and that she needs much more praise than we giver her. I think she gets a little lost in the shuffle. Today, she seemed relieved to be in the pull-up and was even more responsible about going potty. It is a lot of pressure to put on a two-year old to potty train, and if it doesn't take perfectly I should push so hard. Today we were sure to tell her she was a big girl. We even called her pull-ups "big-girl diaper."

Growing Up and Shifting Down

Nothing to help kids and parents grow up like going tubing together with your under-4 kids and falling off together. My first instinct was probably the most dangerous-have them all grab hold of me. Either way, despite some tears they showed some real bravery. Once they were in the boat, they quickly calmed down and enjoyed the rest of the boating trip.

However, our two-year old seems to be going backward in her potty training and we finally decided to put her in a pull-up. I was more than a little disappointed, but we had no other choice.

Kicking Myself

"I think we're done at three." What a silly thing to say. I said it at a family gathering that was a bit hectic after several nights without a full night's sleep. It has been fun to have so much family around. I still find myself trying to manage my home the way I manage work, hoping for organization, cooperation, etc. But, as anyone who has had a family reunion knows, getting the family moving is like driving a herd of stubborn cattle, we almost have to start cussin' to get them going. Anyway, this tendency, combined with the hectic nature of the gathering, and a lack of sleep contributed to my thoughtless comment. The kids were just being kids, and though they were hard work, that extra labor with everything else going on is probably what pushed me to say that. I keep thinking about what my kids, who are the best kids I know, would have thought had they heard what I said. They are definitely worth the effort, and I would love to have ten more just like them, if it were possible. I've resolved to do this before, but feel more strongly about it now, but I should never speak anything negative about my wife or kids to other people. I noticed that once something came out, it was easier to do it again. I've also seen where that can lead if left unchecked, and it isn't pretty. So, sorry wife and kids. I didn't mean it.

Their Journey, Our Journey

Grandma (and Grandpa) is in town visiting, and our daughter pottied on her. There was no look of surprise, regret, or otherwise on her face. She has been potty trained for months, and we've come to realize that when she doesn't care to try, she won't try. Never have I seen this kind of stubbornness in a two-year old. There is almost no point to explaining, reprimanding, disciplining, etc., because this girl will simply do what she wants. Are words are less than a light breeze in effect. But upon reflection I'm certain that she inherited from me. As with anyone, I have my things I need to work on as well, but no matter what anyone may say or even against my better judgment I continue to do them. Maybe this is a wake-up call. Perhaps I need to work on my things a little more and figure out what it takes to overcome my own stubborn nature and it will help me figure out how to reach my daughter.

Their Game, Their Way

The kids were swimming when I came home, so I changed into my swim trunks and jumped in with them. We had a blast. We splashed like crazy and had a big water fight. The kids love dumping buckets of water on me, especially when I'm still mostly dry, because they like watching me jump. They showed me the games they like to play as well as all of their tricks. We stayed until they were done. Apparently, this satisfied them for the night. They were calm, quite, and obedient (for the most part) throughout the rest of the night. It pays to play their game, their way, whenever possible.

One At A Time

Our strategy has been to bathe all three kids at the same time and suffer 30 minutes of intense chaos, including splashing, fighting over toys, and positioning for the front by the faucet, to have extra time for books and fun before bed. It works somewhat, though it ends up being a full night of chaos. For various reasons, for the past two days I've been bathing the kids one at a time while the other two play downstairs. It seems to be much faster, much more relaxing, and actually kind of nice because I get to have some one-on-one time to talk to them while I bathe them. Because there is nothing else going on, we actually have a good conversation about their day. That in itself is enough to justify changing our strategy.

The Exceptional

It's strange to realize how hard it is for me to let my children be themselves. I enjoy having all my ducks in a row, but the unpredictability of children's personalities continually throws me for a loop. So much of the time the new developments are so obviously positive, like walking, talking, learning letters, then starting to read words, or interacting with other kids and adults, going to school, playing soccer, telling jokes, etc. Yet some of the time the new developments aren't so obviously positive--I don't think that there are any developments at this young age that are obviously negative. The latter category throws me more than the former. At first I patiently play along. Then I get frustrated. Then I get worried. Then I give up. Usually at that moment I begin to see the positive aspects to the seemingly negative developments more clearly. Take my two-year old, for example. She is a very strong-willed little girl and displays that characteristic by ignoring virtually everything we say if she doesn't like it. Then she will pursue her own objectives no matter what the cost. Certainly it was cute at first, then frustrating (I still come back to this often), then worrisome (I'm over this), and just as I feel the desire to throw my hands in the air I realize, "Hey, I want my little girl to grow up knowing what she wants and standing up for it. I want her to be passionate, curious, and creative. I want her to be unafraid to slug a boy who isn't treating her right." Although we do discipline her when any passion (screaming) or slugging is directed our way or her curiosity and creativity comes at the cost of injury to persons or property, we do not want to quash her insatiable spirit. We are still looking for ways to channel it, and when we do, I have a feeling she will not only be good but exceptional.

Watch!

Due to my son's love for reptiles we've been checking out library books on every reptile you can think of, from snakes to lizards to legless lizards. I was fascinated to see how chameleons can move both eyes simultaneously in different directions. When I came home from work today I wished I had chameleon eyes. I went to watch my kids in our little pool in the back yard, and from the moment I stepped out there to the moment we came inside for dinner both of them were yelling at me to "watch!" One swam this way and one swam that way, one rolled this way while the other rolled that way, one pretended to be a sea snake while the other was a crocodile. I told them I was watching, I tried to get them to take turns, but it didn't matter. Both demanded my complete attention at the same time, and it was impossible. Despite that, I had a lot of fun watching them. I guess the only downside is that after I emptied the pool, I realized I flooded the neighbor's back patio. I wasn't about to say "watch!"

Can't Sleep, Can't Figure Out What to Do

Tonight was the third night in a row that our four-year old has come down the stairs within five minutes of being put to bed. Each night is a new excuse: thirsty, help finding a toy to sleep with, etc. On the one hand, I don't blame him for having a hard time falling asleep. He is getting older and could probably stay up later. It also stays light later into the night. He is also so darn honest that I can't help feeling a little guilty for putting my foot down and requiring him to stay in bed once he is tucked in.

Perfect Moments

This evening seemed to be full of perfect moments. We are all in the Sunday-evening-relaxing mode, which includes some wrestling, some snuggling, and lots of enjoying time together. At one point all three of the kids were snuggled up to me while I read to them. We also rolled out our packing paper and drew on it together. There is no real schedule to keep. The kids don't get dirty on Sundays which means no baths and a more relaxing bed-time routine. Earlier tonight I was reading just to my spunky toddler. While caught up in the perfect moment I kissed her little head and said, "I'm glad that you like to snuggle with me." She simply replied in a loud, stern voice, "JUST READ!"

Rule, Rules, Rules

I get that I need to figure out when an issue is "life or death" and when it is something I should let slide in the interest of letting kids be kids and remaining approachable rather than feared or hated. I'm certain I'm not feared or hated. I'm too nice to my kids to be hated, and the fact that they ignore me several times a day tells me I'm not feared. However, I'm not sure yet whether I'm approachable, because I'm still very strict especially regarding messes and schedules. Although I'm getting better at determining when to lay down the law and when to let it go, I'm not quite there yet, and sometimes law stumbles out of my mouth when I should have let it go. What do I do then? When my daughter refused to eat dinner and continued spitting on herself and on the floor no matter what we said, I determined to lay down the law: spit again and instant bed without dinner. It was only 6:30 pm. She spit again, and I had to follow through. Interestingly, she was so tired by that point (which is probably why she wouldn't eat or settle down) that she complied angelically to an early bedtime routine. She's no fool. She expected it and probably wanted it, but she likes to achieve things on her own terms. On the other hand, when my son got out of bed several times, I would not let him turn on the light and I would not tuck him back in, but I did let him get a drink of water. I'm not sure why I laid down the law in such an odd way. I guess in my mind, lights out and no re-tucking meant that he was expected to stay in bed and I was going to treat him accordingly. But, I also trust him because he doesn't try to take advantage of the "I'm thirsty" excuse to get out of bed often. I hope the message I intended by creating rules in the one situation but letting it go in the other was received that way. Who knows? Well, actually I do know. It's likely just a jumbled mess to him. My parents' rules rarely made sense to me until I left for college or later had a family of my own. How much more confusing are all these rules to three children under the age of four? Yet another good reason to let things go sometimes. Maybe I should just limit myself to three rules: tell the truth, be kind to others, and don't ever make messes or make me late to something. Simple enough.

Great Date

Lately I've felt like I've been too strict with the kids, trying to run the house like I do my work, and that I'm not letting my four-year old be a four-year old or my two-year old be a two-year old. My wife pointed out that messes and staying on schedule seem to cause me the most anxiety. After a while, the smallest things start to drive me crazy. So, I took my wife out for dinner tonight. It seems like time alone with her gives me a little more patience. The funny thing is that even if our date had fallen through, I think she would have been thrilled that I actually took the effort to find a babysitter.

Greater Love Hath No Dad

Greater love hath no dad than the bugaphobic father who spends the evening playing baseball with his kids while being attacked by a swarm of flies, mosquitoes, and some other annoying little biters I've never seen before. I also took my wife's advice to avoid complaining about bugs or being afraid to go outside so that our kids don't grow up with the same complex I have. Either way, I don't think I was very fun to play with. What struck me was that my son later said that playing baseball with me was his favorite part of the day. But that was also before he busted up laughing at me for getting tired and mispronouncing some words in one of the books I read him tonight while putting him to bed.

From A to B

You might be surprised how long it takes to get from Point A to Point B. It is a running joke between me and my wife that between the living room and the bedroom at the end of the night, or from any starting point in the house to any destination point in the house for that matter, she must clean the house along the way. I've never seen anyone take so many detours on her way to do something in order to pick up something here, put away something there, straighten something else, or pick up a bunch of things only to set them all down and clean something, all before arriving at Point B. Of course, I would never do such a thing, but that is because at work I can manage my own schedule for the most part and be an A-to-B kind of person. Tonight I realized that I cannot maintain the A-to-B focus at home either. My wife went to do the grocery shopping while I got the kids into bed. I noticed that in an attempt to save time--I don't know whether it really did--I always made little stops along the way to do exactly what I tease my wife about doing. Incidentally, because of our tendency to do that at home, our son has been known to say, "I don't see you coming!"--a technique I'm sure he picked up from us--when we respond to his call by saying "Coming!" Apparently he too knows that we cannot walk in a straight line from Point A to Point B at home.