Questions 8-14

Question 7: How Does Daddy Treat Mommy?

Kids really notice everything. Just ask my wife who used to teach 4-5-year old kids in Sunday School. She learned a lot more than she wanted to about what goes on at home and how mommies and daddies get along.

This one is another "daddy check," meaning that I'm making sure I'm not messing things up too badly. I'm happy to hear that the kids see only positive things so far. I definitely want to keep that going.

I think with the next round of interviews (around question 14 or so) I will have my wife interview just to be sure the kids aren't answering the way they think I want them too.

Question 6: Has Daddy Ever Done Anything That Scared You?

This was just to make sure I wasn't too bad of a father. I'm happy to report that I haven't done anything scary enough to remember. I am a little worried about the face R mentioned that is scary. It may be the same face A mentioned in one of the previous videos: my "serious face." We actually played a guessing game with the kids the other night where they acted out different animals and we had to guess what they were. Well, my son started opening his eyes really wide and making a face that looked pretty serious and a little scary. Then I realized the animal he was acting out was me. He was doing my "serious face." It was pretty hilarious. It also makes me keenly aware of the faces I make at my kids.

Question 5: What does Daddy say when you ask him to play?

Well, I think all the kids were right. Sometimes I huff and puff because I'm tired or have other things I need to or want to do at the moment. Sometimes I come up with fun ideas and suggestions. The answer that worries me a little is "That's a hard question." It sounds like "I don't want to say because it might hurt Daddy's feelings."

This was a very insightful interview.

Question 4: What Face Does Daddy Make A Lot?

This video is very insightful. I think A does a great impression of my famous serious face. I think I would be a little annoyed by that face. Good thing I can't make faces at myself.

I was relieved to see that R said I make a happy face. She has been blessed with the ability to forget the mistakes I make and to always think positively.

And K, . . . well . . . she was either sick of interviewing or I make worse faces than I thought.

The conclusions from this interview:

I have a very memorable serious face, and

I am generally making happy faces.

Question 3: What Is Something Daddy Says A Lot?

This is a dangerous question. But I ended up feeling more relief than anything else. I hope you enjoy it.



You never really know what you say a lot. My son's response was interesting. I think he was a little scared to repeat it, but he finally said, "no." I do say that a lot. My feeling is similar to what Emerson said: You remembers most the things you love the most and the things you hate the most. Apparently, I don't say anything my kids really love, except maybe "toys," but I do say something they hate: "no." I'm not exactly their Emerson--yet.

Question 2: How Does Daddy Act When He Gets Home?

I thought the responses to this question were especially insightful. Enjoy.



I had a feeling that my son would say what he did. He's mentioned it (and I've blogged about it) before. It's true that after a certain point, it's time to get down to business, meaning bed, and that requires some nudging. In more direct terms, once it's time to get down to business, I become Charlie Brown's mom to them. In fact, I'm not sure they can even hear me when I speak sometimes. There is hardly anything more frustrated than repeating yourself or just plain being ignored. On the other hand, they are kids, so they need some time and patience when asked to do something, and probably a little gentle nudging. What I wonder now is whether I need to adjust my nudging so that it isn't so memorable for the wrong reasons.

Question 1: What Does Daddy Do For A Living?

We're doing something different this year. Instead of daily entries, I'm going to post videos of interview with my kids--I'm aiming at one per week. With my brother Sam's video editing help, we've brought you the first in a series of 52 interviews between me and my kids about what their impressions of Daddy are.



I decided to start from the beginning. I want to know if they know what I do when I'm not at home. This is important because I want them to know that I am not away from home because I don't want to be at home, rather because I am doing something to help my family. Their sweet innocence makes for some very interesting answers. Enjoy.

Peace At Last

I hope my wife will forgive me, but although I had to come home from Christmas break without her and the kids because of work, I was looking forward to a vacation from our vacation. Traveling with the kids for the holidays is exhausting. "Peace at last," I thought. Only, I don't know what to do with so much peace. The house is empty. My evenings are empty. I'm not sure what to do with myself without wrestling with my son, snuggling with my daughters, and laughing with my wife. (I know I'm forgetting the part where the kids splash us during baths, scream during bedtime, and continue getting out of bed for various reasons, not to mention dinner table drama and clean-up.) I know I'll get some needed extra work done, and I don't want to be the new attorney who vacations longer than more senior attorneys. On the other hand, it is hard for me to think of anything other than my family. My baby girl's first hair cut, the tenderness with which my son and oldest girl played Mary and Joseph in the nativity, reading to the kids at night, spending the nights talking with my wife. I've actually creeped into the kids' rooms a few times just to feel like they are closer. I'm not sure I like this much peace.

Broken Boards

It's been a while since I've written, but I'm staying up late to write this because I can't get it out of my mind. My 5-year old son recently broke his first board in Taekwon Do. Prior to that we had him in the class on a trial basis, with the option of putting him in the class permanently if we were happy with it. There is also the option of participating in the leadership program, which supplements the weekly classes with additional training focused on developing character. Our son knew we were contemplating the leadership class, because he loves it and he is good at it. Not only that, he is truly a good boy. However, I am an impatient father who has gotten used to the high standard my son has set for himself, so I forget just how good he is sometimes. Perhaps just to remind us how good of a boy he his, he surprised his mother this morning by cleaning his room, making his bed, and getting ready all by himself. This past weekend, we already told him we thought putting him in the leadership class was the right thing for him, because he already demonstrates good leadership at home on a regular basis. This just confirmed it, and I came home from work to my son wearing a special belt given to kids in the leadership program. My favorite part was the look in his eyes of self-confidence, which is what every parent hopes to see in their kids. I have to admit, I felt very proud of him and excited with him about this. But things took a turn for the worst at bedtime. He came out of his room several times complaining that he couldn't feel the fan and wanted to be tucked in again. Well, we have a rule that if he gets out of bed he has to tuck himself in. My wife and I just settled down for the makeover edition of Biggest Loser when he came out again. By this time, we'd already sent him back in his room and threatened to take his special belt so he couldn't sleep with it. So, I had to go up and take it away. He came out again. My wife went up. He came out again. This time, he physically resisted my efforts to guide him back to bed. Not sure what to do, and frustrated beyond reason, I carried him to his bed with an angry lecture about how he could have avoided all this by staying in bed. Immediately after leaving his room, I felt it: guilt. He was so good all day, until that moment. He was also so excited about his leadership class and new belt and probably wanted to talk about it with me some more. He was feeling so self-confident today, and I felt like I just crushed it by getting angry at him for the one mistake he made all day. Well, I don't think I know what the right way of handling this was, but I'm sure I didn't do it. I did go back up after cooling down to apologize for getting angry and to talk to him about what happened. Mostly, I wanted to reassure him that although he made a mistake, we still felt like he was a leader and earned the chance to be in the program and that we loved him. I also told him that we make mistakes too. Then he asked if the judge (my recent employer) made mistakes too. My son rightfully looks up to the judge as a leader. I said yes - sorry Judge. I think that made him feel a little better. He was sad to learn that he couldn't have the belt back tonight, but understood that he still has to face the consequences of his choice to get up. I think we both felt better. Then came the real test. He came out once more, this time just to complain about the light coming under the door and keeping him awake. I turned out the light, he went to bed, and my wife and I were able to finish the show in peace. What would have been the right response when he will not obey, but insists on staying up and making a loud fuss, ruining our show and potentially waking up the girls? Who knows. At least he knows that we still believe he earned his opportunities in Tae Kwon Do despite mistakes here and there.

Different Than Before

Coming home from work is one of my favorite things. The baby is usually the first to run up to me, yelling, "Daddy!" I pick her up and get a big hug, then she rubs my hairless head and says, "Head." When she finally lets me put her down--which is just as hard on me as it is on her--I signal to the older kids the excitement they should feel when I come home by yelling enthusiastically, and a bit facetiously, "Daddy's Home!" When the kids are in the kitchen, it's my wife who yells it. That way they go running to find me and let her finish dinner. Either way, I get my smiles and hugs from them too. Then begins "show and tell," where the kids simultaneously tell me about their day and show me tricks on the couch or pictures or crafts they created. I love it all, and no matter how my day is, I try to muster up all the energy I can to engage with them fully while they are showing and telling. Then, they run off to something new and the work begins. Most of the time it's preparing for dinner. Tonight, it was babysitting the children of good friends while they went out, in addition to flying solo with my own kids while my wife went to a meeting. For a while, I thought I was pretty amazing. I got the girls bathed, let the kids play without hovering like I usually do to make sure they share and use manners or anything else I can think of. They seemed to be having fun. Then I put on a brief show for the kids while I put the girls to bed. Man was I efficient. But my four-year old son, the most perceptive and insightful little boy I've ever known, said, "Daddy, your different than before." It took me a moment to digest what he was saying--that's how smart he is. Then I got it. I asked, "Am I being a little grumpy?" He said, "Yeah. You're excited when you get home. Now you're different." I didn't have a response. I think I lamely mumbled something about having to take care of six kids all by myself. But I can't get what he said out of my mind. It seems that what he's saying is that during the short time I am home he wants me to stay engaged, to slow down. Didn't he see how much I got done tonight? Clearly not. What he did see was that I was zooming through the house too quickly to really play with them or even to have our full bedtime routine. Now that they are in bed, I see it too. Going to bed on a night like this feels a little unsatisfying, like running around the office all day without billing any time--there's no value added.

Table Talk

Try this at home: Tonight at dinner I decided to interview my children to see how much they knew about my career.

Me: Do you guys know what Daddy does for work?

Kids: No.

Me: Do you know where Daddy works?

Kids: No.

Me: Do you remember coming to my office?

Kids: Yes.

Me: Let me ask you about my office. What color is my chair?

Kids: Brown.

Me: What pictures do I have up on my wall?

Kids: Pictures of the family and a drawing of a rattlesnake.

Should I be surprised that the things they remember most about my career are the office chair I spun them in, the family pictures they took for Father's Day, and the drawing of a rattlesnake my son drew for me?

The Data Plan and The Family Plan

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone who continually pulls out his or her phone to check emails while you are still talking to them? Believe me, the experience still leaves a sour taste in my mouth. So when I got the job offer at a law firm--a really good law firm, meaning relationship-centered--I thought I could go without a phone with a data plan. I continued under this delusion until two weeks into my job when I realized that in the days leading up to a deal I'm basically on call. Just prior to realizing that I need to succumb to this, the sour taste got a little more sour. I decided to sign-in to my work email from home and check-in throughout the night regarding a deal. There were emails going back and forth until about 9:30 pm. But they were emails that could have waited until the next day. I thought, "if a smart phone requires me to stay up and constantly check and answer these kinds of emails all night, I'm definitely not getting one." I realized that this wasn't entirely realistic. Senior lawyers want things off their plates quickly, so they send them off as they think of them. Not only that, why wouldn't a lawyer answer an email, even one that could wait, during a break in the action at home in the evenings if it meant he could make money doing so (assuming of course that it was related to a client file)? Although I stand by my position that people are too attached to their smart phones--more so than to real people standing in front of them, in some cases--I think I had a chip on my shoulder. This is a good career at a good firm with great people. Starting out at a firm is like a medical residency: it is intense and an important way to ear your spurs as a professional. It is also like starting a business. The other attorneys are my clients for now, until I get clients of my own. You can't beat the training. Also like a residency, sometimes I will be on call. So, what does this have to do with the family plan? Simply put, the family plan, as one partner described it, is that family comes first. Work comes second. Just make it a close second. The way I apply this statement is that an ounce of prevention prevents a pound of trouble. There is no need to work Saturdays or Sundays, as long as I put in extra time during the week. I start a few hours early every day, and planned with my wife to call-in no more than two late nights a week, if necessary, during a normal work week. As to the smart phone: don't let it be smarter than you. I will likely review and answer emails in the evenings or on the weekends, but there is no need to interrupt family dinner or other plans, or a conversation for that matter, to do so. There may be exceptions in certain situations, and we accept that. Our family has definitely had to adjust from life working in the federal government. I sleep less and work more. I miss about two family dinners a week. But, I'm not as much of a stickler about bed time and try to take my time reading to or talking with the kids before they go to bed. I wrestle or swim with them even when I don't have the energy. I help at home without complaining, unless it is after 9:30 pm. And I issue fewer commands. As time together becomes a little more scarce and a lot more valuable, I want my time at home to be as positive as possible. For example, my kids and I frequently discuss the intricacies of their Halloween costumes--a pirate for my son, and a princess for my older daughter (the youngest will be wearing the duck outfit her sister wore last year, but doesn't speak enough or care enough to share her opinion about it). We're still figuring our new life out, but we believe their is a way to achieve that balance. What is interesting is that we all seem happier now. My wife enjoys feeling more independence at home with kids and plans, since I can't be as involved anymore. And I think I am much more patient. The kids seem to be happier too. We are much more conscious of our time with them, and I think they appreciate it. I am also a Scout leader, which takes away another night each week. Maybe it is that our kids appreciate their time with me more than they used to, but they are excited about Scouts and other things that I am doing. They take much more interest in it. Lest anyone think that things are perfect, we just barely threw away our empty boxes after two weeks here. Although the other rooms are mostly set-up, our room is still filled with boxes. Our older daughter has decided she does not want to have to worry about when and where she goes potty, so she is back in pull-ups. She is also phasing out of naps, which raises emotions to whole new level. We are still figuring out what to do about our son's preschool, since people here charge and pay Harvard tuition to prepare their 4-year old kids for Kindergarten. We find at least one cockroach a day in our home. Last night it was on my bath towel, then on me, as I was drying off after a shower. And, we're still unsure about our landlord. Ultimately, the conclusions I've reached over the past few days are the result of a lot of introspection over several difficult weeks of transition. Well, we're only two weeks into actual work (four weeks into life here). They have been tiring weeks, but we are happy and still putting each other first--though work really is a close second right now.

Billing Your Time at Home

I never thought I'd see it, at least not in a four-year old. Unpacking, a new home, a new life, etc., all mean one thing: more rules. There are more things you can't touch. There are more things you must do or not do to make a good impression on our new friends and neighbors or to give your exhausted parents a break. You are forced to go to a new school, a new congregation, a new bedroom (or to share it with your two emotional sisters while your parents paint yours). In short, you are not allowed to be a four-year old until we're ready. You must keep that energy bottled up. But when he got excited, he threw a piece of food. I took the rest and excused him from the table. Then, the look. Brow furrowed, chin down, eyes up and narrowly focused in on me. It didn't scare me, but it shocked me. I immediately began to miss the little boy he was prior to our move. I wondered if he'd ever come back or if the rebellious stage so famously attributed to teenage years really started this young and continued until the kids left home. All day long I thought about it. I really couldn't think about anything else. What had gone so wrong that our little boy could cast such a glance at me? My wife and I talked and decided we'd resent us too if someone had imposed so many rules on us, so many that it was just impossible to be ourselves. It was a good reminder to chill out and make the most of my precious time at home. My wife warned me recently, "Don't bill your time at home." I know that she meant I needed to drop my natural habit to stick to a schedule and a routine and enforce them strictly. But billing time has actually helped me recognize the value of my time. I can't waste a minute at work, yet there have been so many evenings where I chose to relax instead of wrestle, or sulk instead of swim. My greater awareness has prompted me to try and make more time by being less strict about bedtime. In other words, we use the same bed time, but we adjust to the needs of the kids. If they are still restless, we wrestle a little or play a little and maybe skip bath. If they seem like their crying for attention and acting a bit rambunctious or rebellious, we read more, talk more, sing more, and take our time. We let our daughter get out of bed to go potty three or four times, until she's to tired to pretend anymore. I think the necessity of billing so much time at work has actually made us better and improving our time together. It's shorter, but more meaningful. It's tougher, but we are more understanding and less critical. It's later and we're tired, but we have a stronger desire to be together. It's less time to talk, but we make greater efforts to build our relationships (nothing beats relaxing in a back float with your son or playing Motor Boat with the girls in the pool after dinner). It seems that just as sacrifice makes us closer (see previous post), so does the effort to make the most of our precious time. In reality, I do bill time at home, but not in the way my wife thought. If every six minutes is precious at work, they become even more so at home. I need to find a way to use every single one to serve my most important clients, my wife and kids. My bill? Well, it's a closer family. If I do my work right, the clients pay immediately.