Categories
Family

A Promise to the Lass

Last year, the lass was so excited about homework that she would come home and complete it as soon as she received it, despite the fact that as a kindergartner, the assignments were due whenever the kids chose to finish them. The Wife and I were very impressed.

Now that’s she’s in 1st grade, her only real homework each week is reading and studying for her spelling tests. After a couple of weeks, she’s decided that studying for her spelling tests is not so much fun. She typically has only 8 to 10 words to work on.

So she has her test coming up tomorrow and I sat going through the words with her. This weeks words are: trip, trap, grass, grab, crab, crib, grand and craft. The final two are bonus words. I guess the emphasis is on learning blended sounds like the “tr” and “cr”.

She didn’t like the way I went through the words because I didn’t do them in the order on the sheet. I told her that if she really knows them then the order won’t matter. She struggled a bit, but managed to get them all correct.

Since she struggled a bit, I decided to go through them again. She rolled her eyes at me after I said one of the words again and said in an exasperated tone “We’re not going to go through these like a million times, are we?”

“I promise we won’t,” I replied. “We’ll just do it as many as it takes for you to know them well.”

She did much better the second time around.

Categories
Cub Scouts Family Football

Rentschler Pics

Here are some pics of Rentschler from yesterday’s Scout Day, all from the Fifty.

Obviously, that last one isn’t from the fifty…

Categories
Cub Scouts Family

A Good Day

We met the boy’s fellow Cub Scout buddies around 8:30 this morning. It was just a coffee and donut start to the day. Coffee for me and the other parents, donuts for the kids. Caffeine versus sugar- if we’d left them together for too long, sugar would have won.

The ride down to the stadium went surprisingly quickly. We made one pit stop to pick up some simple tailgating supplies along the way. We were keeping things pretty simple.

We arrived at Rentschler Field a little after 10. Game time today was noon. The boy was full of questions about football. Who to cheer for? Does offense have the ball or defense? What’s a down? I weathered them as best I could while trying to concentrate on not getting into an accident. The boy is constant priority interrupt and the lanes marked out to guide vehicles to a parking lot are narrow. The parking attendants aren’t too friendly either.

I got a brief sense of relief as we drove by the stadium- it looked like we’d have pretty good parking spots within site of the stadium. I even told the boy as much. The thought made him happy ’cause he didn’t want to have to walk very far.

But then we kept going. And going. And going. In the end, I was right that we were still within site of the stadium, but only because of the lights sitting atop it.

Once the parking was set, the boy and his buddies immediately started tossing a football around. There was grabbing and yelling and laughing and occasionally, the ball changed hands and it started all over again. I decided to wade into the middle of it all and started tossing them the ball. We were in between a couple rows of cars with real tailgating going on around us. None of the Scouts had very good control over their throwing and there were several near misses on tailgaters. Thankfully, they took it all in stride.

The time went by quickly. We finished our snacks and then packed up and headed to the field to pick up our tickets and get to our seats. The kids didn’t even bother complaining about the long walk. They were too busy chatting about the upcoming game and rooting for the Huskies.

Our seats weren’t top-of-the-line, but they were pretty darn good- front row, corner endzone on the visitor side of the field. It was Scout day, so we were sitting with Scouts all around us. Once the game started, there was plenty of hooting and hollering. The older Scouts were yelling for the cheerleaders. When they finally came by I joked with our guys to keep their eyeballs in their heads. The boy joked about his sister wanting to be a cheerleader.

The Jumbotron was a huge hit for all the kids. They probably watched it more than the live action on the field in front of them. The boy had an overpriced hot dog and drink. I had an overpriced pulled-pork sandwich. How overpriced? The sandwich was $10; a 7lb slab of pork butt costs $15. Next time, we’ll be a little more aggressive with the tailgating. But then, the boy enjoyed his overpriced soda. At least it was more soda than ice.

Sometime in the 4th quarter, the Boy Scouts made there way down and started pounding on a tarp in from of us, chanting “Let’s Go UConn!” and stuff. Our guys joined in and the camera man came by and filmed them cheering on the Huskies.

The kids started getting antsy in the 2nd half for the field. Being Scout day, it had been arranged that the Scouts would get a chance to go on the field after the game. With about 5 minutes to go, and the game more or less settled, we started heading for the far end of the field where we’d been told access to the field would be granted. Our guys kept trying to race with one another to be the first one. It was pointless though, because the marching band had taken the field. And yes, they refused to yield. I still don’t know what was the deal…

Ahem. Sorry.

While we were waiting for the band’s performance to end, the boys noticed the large crate of footballs that had been brought on th field. They could barely believe their good fortune that so many of them were available. After the band finished their set, we were finally allowed on the field.

Even though I rarely get the opportunity, I still feel at home on the field. I spent the better part of 8 years on them during the Fall. It was nice to be back on one. Even though it was crawling with Scouts.

The boy didn’t actually get a ball when we first got on the field. They had run out. But one of his Scout buddies had, and they immediately starting tossing it around. I wandered to the 50 to take a few pictures. When I got back, the boy had managed to procure his own ball. We tossed it around a bit, then he wanted to throw it through the uprights. So we tossed it back and forth that way for awhile.

Then we started to have a little fun.

It had thinned out a bit around midfield so the boy and I moved into that area. We started about 10 yards apart. After he caught a few, I stepped back a few yards and kept going. He caught a few more and I stepped back a bit more. He caught a few of those and he started getting a smile on his face. He was catching a real football from farther than he’d ever managed before.

After a few more reps, my arm and shoulder were warmed up and we were now about 30 yards apart. I varied between lobbing them in and putting some zip on them. He was into it now, caching them with his hands when he could. Giving it his best shot when he couldn’t. His arm got tired and he couldn’t make the throws back to me anymore, so I’d move closer to make the throw easier, then move back to make a throw to him. We were 35 yards apart with him on the 50 and he was still catching the ball. It had thinned out more where he was at, and some of his buddies were hanging around him.

So I did the only reasonable thing. I stepped back to the goalline and let fly.

There’s something about a football sailing 50 yards through the air. The tight spiral, the arc of it’s flight. It’s just fun to watch. It’s also irresistible to anyone near the landing zone. As such, the boy never had a chance to catch it because every other Scout within 5 yards wanted to catch it as well.

The boy never did catch anything from that far. But he had a lot of fun trying.

Unsurprisingly, he fell asleep on the ride home.

Our arrival back home was well timed. The Wife had just finished making dinner and serving herself and the lass. The lass had scored a goal in her soccer game. The Wife had found some new shoes. A good day for everyone.

Later, when it was time for bed, the boy told me “Dad, I wish we could have stayed on the field longer throwing the ball. It was more fun than I thought it would be.”

That’s the cruel side of fun, that it has to come to an end. But then, there’s always a next time.

Categories
Family

M&M

Keeping up with his martial arts training, the boy graduated to his next belt level tonight. He’s now a full red belt, as opposed to a striped red. He did well, showing off some of his sparring skills and demonstrating the new form he learned.

But the highlight of the night came at the end of the graduation when he was awarded his new belt. The head instructor asked him if he knew what his last name meant in English. The boy nodded and said “The mountain.”

The instructor smiled and then said “Yes, you and your father. I think I’m going to start calling you ‘M&M’. You know what that stands for?”

The boy shook his head. None of use knew.

“It’s short for ‘Mini Mountain’.”

The boy got a big grin on his face and their was a good laugh all around.

I think it’s going to stick- a couple of the higher ranking kids told him afterwards they would start referring to him as “Mr. M&M” in class. The boy, to his credit, took it all without much fuss.

Now that he’s home, he’s not to keen on it. But I explained to him, that’s the thing about nicknames. The person in question doesn’t get any say in their selection.

Categories
Family

Parents Shouldn’t Apologize

I was sitting at the dojang today watching the boy go through his stripe testing. This time around was kind of a big deal for him, as he’s about to earn his next belt level. The warm-up phase of the class had just ended and the instructors released the kids for a water break. The boy went over to the bubbler, but one of his classmates came over to the parent’s viewing area and asked her Dad: “Do you have my water bottle?”

He kind of raised his hands in defeat and replied “I must have left it on the counter at the house, sorry.”

And I couldn’t help but think “Why is he apologizing?” Is his daughter incapable of keeping track of her own water bottle? If the same thing had happened with the lass, my response would have been “You must have left it on the counter.” And the lass is at least a couple years younger than this girl.

Then I realized that I see quite a bit of these sorts of exchanges between kids and parents: child asks for something, parent sheepishly apologizes for not being able to satisfy the child’s request. I suppose part of it can be attributed to just being an automatic response given the situation.

But that doesn’t mean it’s a correct response or even an appropriate response.

Apologizing to a child puts them in the driver’s seat. You’ve “screwed up” and owned up to it all in one sentence, so now you owe them or need to make it up. That puts a parent at a disadvantage and makes the job of parenting more difficult. They get to blame you instead of owning up to their own mistake. Do it enough and an outsider might begin to wonder just who is the boss in that relationship.

Plus, taking the blame for something a child should be responsible for isn’t doing them any favors. They miss an opportunity to learn from their own mistake. It’s hard enough to get them to do admit to making a mistake as it is; forget about it when the parents starts voluntarily taking the blame. Generally speaking, there’s no better teacher than making a mistake. A child does it a few times and is forced to suffer the consequences, they’ll figure out how to correct things on their own. Heck, it’s the best weapon in the parental arsenal! Why relinquish it?

That’s not to say it’s as easy as all that. They’ll do whatever they can to pass the blame off:

“It was your job!”

Proper response: “Uh, no it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was!”

Proper response: “You mean in addition to feeding you, helping you with homework, driving you to after-school activities, museums and zoos, and cleaning your clothes? I can do all that and you can’t keep track of this one thing?”

“It’s your fault for not reminding me!”

Multiple possible responses: “I did remind you, several times” or “Why should I have to remind you. It’s your class, I’m driving you there, we’ve gone through this enough times that you should know.”

“The dog ate my homework!”

Proper response: “I told you not to do homework at the table after eating a PB&J sandwich.”

Anyway, I think the idea is pretty clear hear. No apologies necessary.

Categories
Family

The Boy- Firestarter

With temps supposedly heading for the high 30’s tonight, we heading squarely into fire-starting territory. This actually won’t be the 1st one of the season, but the third. The past week or so has been beautiful weather up here, with low humidity and comfortable temps in the low 70’s. We’ve had a couple nights where temps dropped down into the low 40’s, which is also fire-starting temperatures. I took care of getting those fires going.

The boy took care of tonight’s.

This afternoon, I chopped up a bunch of the leftovers I had from the bigger operations earlier in the year. While I was doing that, I had both kids gather wood shards from around the driveway. I use those to start new fires because they’re dry and small- perfect for getting a fire going. They filled one of their beach buckets with these pieces.

The boy was clearly excited about starting the fire, because he started asking me if he could do it before we’d even had dinner. He took a beating from the Wife in a game that was not Monopoly, but awfully close. After licking his wounds, he went over and decided that he was going to start the fire.

I was all set to tell him “No”, but then I thought- why? So I could have the pleasure of starting the fire, again, for the 100th time? The stove is great for saving us money on heating the house, but it’s, frankly, a pain in the ass and there’s only so much interest I can take in starting yet another fire. What harm was there in letting him try? We’ve got insurance…

The lass was immediately jealous, and tried to insert herself into her brother’s operation. But there’s only so much room and she quickly realized that her brother had the driver’s seat.

So I talked him through starting it, trying to explain things so he would be able to get it going. He was over-zealous with the wood initially, putting too-large pieces on, but I got him on the right track and soon he had a flame to work with. From there, it was just a matter of containing his own exuberance so that he didn’t shove a bunch of wood on it and snuff his hard fought gains.

The next step will be to let him do it without any direction. Unfortunately, he’s still a bit young for swinging an axe; but then, he can operate the log splitter. Also, he’s still a bit intimidated by the fire for loading logs, but if I play my cards right (and contain my own exuberance) maybe I won’t have to start any fires this year.

Categories
Family

Inappropriate

We took the Wife’s Mother out for a nice dinner for her birthday. The place we went to offered a very unique dining experience as it isn’t the typical restaurant. For one, you can only go there with a reservation. For another, upon arrival, each party is assigned a waitress who takes care of everything from the cocktails through to dessert. In between, there’s a hayride and a nice view of a large farm. The food isn’t bad either.

Shortly after the appetizers were finished, the boy paid the bathroom a visit. He had a little trouble finding it, but the staff was happy to help him out.

After the dinner portion was complete, it was my turn to go. So I asked the boy where it was. He described it as being by the mirror.

His directions were completely adequate. Upon entering the bathroom, it was impossible to miss the piece of art work hanging above the throne. I’d been reading some of the clippings around the establishment and one of the original owners (who has recently passed on) was a decent painter in her hay day, including a nude portrait that she had done.

Hanging there above the throne, was said portrait. It was tasteful, as these things go, if not a little oddly placed.

When I returned to the table, I sat down and very coyly asked the boy what he thought about the artwork in the bathroom.

“What do you mean?” he asked, a very broad grin spread across his face.

“You know, did you like it?”

No he was giggling. He said “I didn’t really look at it.”

“You didn’t look at it?” I replied, feigning an incredulous demeanor. “How could you not look at it? It’s right there over the toilet…”

He replied “I looked down…” and he was starting to turn a little red.

By this point, everyone else at the table was wondering what the hell I was talking about. The lass, in particular, kept prodding her brother about what the painting was. He replied “It’s inappropriate…” He still couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

Five years from now, the boy will want to go there just to visit the bathroom…

Categories
Family

Words With Friends Glory

I won’t divulge any incriminating identity evidence, although I suspect there might be a little crowing. Suffice it to say that I’m part of a regular stable of Words with Friends junkies and we’ve just had a new personal best play for the group. This individual was so proud, that I received email and texts with screen shots.

So here it is, GLYCINES for 185:

In my opinion, this is the hardest combo to pull off: the TW-TL-DW. It requires a rack with a bingo, plus 1 helper tile on the board that doesn’t snork up one of those 3 special squares.

(imagine deep-voice-guy saying the following)
So here’s to you, oh master of the dictionary. Grab the ice cold beverage of your choosing and drink up, because you put the words in Word with Friends.

Categories
Family

Working on Vocab

Every now and again, the boy let’s fly with a word that’s bigger than he is. These occurrences are always obvious since it’s a regular “I do not think that word means what you think it means” moment. Complete with accent.

Anyway, with the kids home from school, they’ve been making the most of an otherwise beautiful day by running around and playing and burning off all their energy. Mostly, in a positive Dad-doesn’t-need-to-separate-them way.

At one point, they were wrestling-play-fighting, or whatever you’d call it. The boy was on the ground on his back and the lass was running around kicking at him as he kind of pivoted around keeping his legs between them. I’m sure the next part won’t surprise anyone imagining this scenario in their minds: he took a shot to the berries.

Not just a glancing blow either, more like a step-in-half-soccer-kick to the Family Jewels (yes- that’s a proper noun ’round these here, er, parts…)

After writhing on the ground for several seconds, the boy then revealed that was the third time she’d done that. Come to think of it, his voice was a bit high-pitched…

Anyway, he follows that up with “You are VIOLATED from doing that anymore!”

My first thought was, “No, you were ‘violated’.” Then I said, “She’s ‘violated’ from it, huh? I don’t think that…”

“OH, WHATEVER THE STUPID WORD IS!!” he yelled at me, cutting me off.

I gave him a mulligan on the yelling part. The word was clearly “pain.”

Categories
Family

The Boy’s Story

Following is one of the writing assignments the boy turned in last week after all the screaming and crying was done. This particular assignment involved 6 words that he was supposed to work into a mystery story. The Wife sat and worked him through it for an hour-and-a-half. The ideas and words are his, with whatever help the Wife gave for getting him to make it a story, instead of a bunch of barely related sentences.

The girl found an old photograph hidden in an envelope. It had a starry sky and a spooky house. It looked like a bird soared in the sky. As she looked closer to the photograph, the bird was actually flying. She was so surprised that she wanted to tell her class so she announced “Class attention please, I saw a bird flying in the photograph.” The class laughed. The teacher grabbed the photograph and it made a crackle noise. The bird stopped flying. The photograph must have been magic until the teacher grabbed it. The teacher handed it back to the girl. It made a crackle noise and the bird started flying. Is it magic or trick paper?

It won’t win any Sci-Fi awards, but pretty good, I thought, for a 3rd grader with no writing experience to speak of.

Categories
Family

How to Scare Dad

The boy had asked the Wife if they thought their Halloween costumes would scare me.

The Wife took the kids to the local costume store this morning. I guess it’s never to early to get Halloween costumes. They’ve both been talking about their potential costumes for awhile now. The lass mentioned something about vampire-cats and the boy wanted to be a Mummy, last I heard. I haven’t seen what they came back with.

Yet.

So in answer to the boy’s question, the Wife said, “I don’t know, you’ve got to get up pretty early in the morning to scare your Dad.”

The boy responded thusly: “Well, I’ll put it on the night before and just sleep in it. That way when I wake up in the morning, I can scare him.”

Categories
Family

Master Sgro

The boy’s MA school had a special guest this morning. His name is Master David Sgro. From his linked bio, he’s an accomplished martial artist with high ranking dans in Tang Soo Do and Japanese Jujitsu. He was a contemporary and competitor of the head of our school Master Bogdanski.

He was there for 2 purpose this morning. One was to teach what he calls “Combative Techniques.” Simply put, these are jujitsu techniques that are real world techniques for quickly defeating and incapacitating an opponent. The techniques he taught this morning are all ones he has taught to soldiers at Fort Bragg as a fighting expert. The techniques consist of short, violent blows to soft tissue areas combined with joint locks. It was a fascinating class in it’s own right.

The more fascinating thing is that this man had given up (he sold it) his MA school in North Carolina to go and serve a mission in Guatemala. He lives there now with the majority of his family helping to improve the community he lives in down there. He lives alongside the people he helps as they do, which means none of the creature comforts we have here. He lives with 6 hours of running water per day, builds chicken coups, installs stoves, builds gardens and teaches karate as part of his mission.

Augmenting the community wide stuff above, he also procures gifts for the community. The gifts typically consist of things like toothbrushes or toothpaste and other things we take for granted. Once, he passed out several thousand of those plastic balls we have in the bins at Walmart. Those were a huge hit.

The karate lesson was free, all he asked was that people consider giving donations to his mission so that he can provide some improvements for the lives of the people he now lives with. The stove I mentioned before is not a stove like we would think it. It’s a firebox with a metal top and a pipe that extends up through the roof (typically straw thatched) of the house they put the stove in. The “big” improvement is the pipe- families there typically cook over an open fire inside their home, made of some kind of stalk.

On the way home, the boy asked a question about the slide show and video Master Sgro had presented after the class. He wanted to know why “everything was dirty” and why there was dirt in their homes. I had to try and explain to him: that’s their life down there. That there was no grocery store to go to; no restaurants to go to for dinner or lunch; no Game Stops from which to get video games; they don’t know what DS’s are. I’m not sure he gets it. I’m not sure I get it. Living on $2 a day, with 6 hours of running water and cooking over an open fire is barely camping in this country. I don’t know if I could do it.

But Master Sgro does and he makes a difference to these people. He has a web site for his mission here.

Categories
Family

Put a Pin In It

There was a particular moment of genius in the movie Bolt that I didn’t recognize for its worth until recently. I can’t recall the exact details, but it involves the slimey agent for Penny. Bolt has long since disappeared and the agent is trying to convince her that it’s not a big deal, but it obviously is to Penny. Finally, when Penny has more or less outthought the agent he hold up his hands, and says “Whoa, whoa whoa. I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’re going to take that thought and…” At this point, he makes a motion like he has a Post-It between his fingers, raises his hands in the air and then makes like he’s sticking it to a cork board with a pin. He finishes with the flourish “…put a pin in it right there. And we’ll come back to it later.”

The argument ends at that point, with stupefied looks on both Penny and her Mother’s face.

In a moment of inspiration, under similar circumstances, I used his on the lass and it completely stopped her in her tracks. She knew exactly where I’d gotten it from, and she didn’t like it, but the argument ended. Plus, it turned the dynamics of the argument on its head because now she was trying not to laugh. I’ve since used it with the boy as well, with similar results.

No word yet on how it works with wives. But I’ll post as soon as I know…

Categories
Family

Sunny Cat

I snuck out for awhile tonight to get in some sparring practice at the dojang. At the time, the Wife was helping the boy finish his homework set for the week (things went much better this time around) and, naturally, wanted some focus time with the boy. This meant the lass needed to be kept busy.

She’s been playing on the computer making pictures using the Paint program on Windows. So I told her if she made me a picture, I’d post it on a website somewhere.

She made me a picture, called Sunny Cat. So here’s me, keeping up my half of the deal:

Categories
Family

Adjustments for The Boy

We now know the pattern for the boy’s homework: he receives a packet on Monday which he then has to turn in on Friday. Each packet consists of math, spelling, reading and writing- all to varying degrees of intensity, or required effort.

Or whining.

The boy at least understands that the work has to be done. When he brought his first packet home, he sat down and got to work on it quickly, figuring he would knock it out in plenty of time for Friday. He ran into some headwinds related to the reading and writing portion of the assignment and got frustrated. I was able to work him through it though, and his math and spelling he didn’t have any issues with.

This week has been different, and it’s only Tuesday. Once again, he sat down and did the math portion of the homework. But the reading and writing section is giving him fits.

And, to be clear, that’s OK. He hasn’t done any writing to this point, and until he’s had some practice with it I don’t think it’s unreasonable for him to be a bit bewildered about how to approach a writing assignment.

But what’s not OK is the miserable attitude that his frustration brings out. When the Wife suggested he try writing a rough draft, he balked at the idea of doing twice the work, snapping at her and stomping off. When he finally did follow her advice and asked me to proofread it, I tried to offer some suggestions (totally meaning to disrail him and make him miserable- that’s what we parents live for after all) he got mad again, declaring he couldn’t do the work.

So it went for the evening. He would start to work on it, then we’d offer some suggestions and he’d go off the deep end, becoming nasty and irritable.

The Wife took a final shot from him and decided she’d had enough, refusing to help him anymore. That, of course, got him madder and more upset. Now, everyone hated him and no one would help him. The long sob story had begun. We ended up putting him to bed early as a result because there’s only so much verbal abuse that can be tolerated before enough-is-enough. Blowing off steam is one thing, he had pushed it into different territory.

After a quick discussion with the Wife, I decided to summon him back downstairs for a Talk. Not, The Talk, just a Talk. I’m sure it’s the last one I’ll ever have to give…

I’m not going to give a blow-by-blow, but suffice it to say that I explained that the Wife and I were going to be damned if we had to deal with him like this every week with each new homework set. I told him we were there to help him, that we didn’t expect him to be able to do it on his own, yet, but he had to stop with the attitude and that he had to start owning up to his behavior. Now. If he didn’t, then his martial arts belt-advancement was going to be extended because we will give him poor marks for attitude on the parental evaluation his school give parents when the kids are ready to advance to a new level- he’s attained a level where any poor marks will hold him back a month.

To his credit, he listened without getting defensive or displaying more attitude. He went back to bed and the Wife and I sat down and breathed for a few minutes.

Afterward, she asked me “Do you think it will work?”

“No,” I told her. But this is one time where I hope I’m wrong.

Categories
Family

I Question His Judgment

This parent inhales:

I swear I am a more loving, attentive and patient father when I take my medication as prescribed. Perhaps this isn’t surprising. As anyone who inhaled during college can attest, cannabis enhances the ability to perceive beauty, complexity and novelty in otherwise mundane things (grout patterns in your bathroom floor, the Grateful Dead, Doritos), while simultaneously locking you into a prolonged state of rapt attention.

He’s got a medical marijuana card to help with his stress. The stress is a result of living in a 2-income family in an expensive city.

I won’t say I’m speechless, though I don’t really know what to say. On the one hand, why not move somewhere less expensive and give up the job? On the other hand, who the hell am I to tell this guy what to do. Let’s leave it at, I won’t be using this method any time soon.

I do wonder, what’s this guy gonna do when his oldest puts 2-and-2 together?

hattip: Patterico

Categories
Family

Hands On with the Lass

The Wife wanted the kids to vacuum this morning. The lass immediately volunteered to do the hardwood portion, leaving the area carpets for the boy.

So the lass did her ‘vacuuming’ while the Wife ran an errand with the boy. I was poking around on the intertubes at the time, so I wasn’t exactly paying attention to quality-of-performance on the lass’ part.

When the Wife arrived home, I was quickly updated on that point when the Wife asked me “Did she vacuum? It doesn’t look like it…” Sure enough, dust bunnies rolled like tumbleweeds across the hardwoods. Somewhere in the distance, that whistle from “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” quietly sounded. A mouse in a serape and a hat appeared riding a cockroach. Across the floor, another mouse stood precariously on a wood chip with his head in a noose fashioned out of dog fur hanging from a corner of a baseboard heater…

Back in reality, rather than get upset and start yelling, I opted for a more direct approach. Inconvenient to me, but more likely to get a point across. I went upstairs and retrieved the lass from her room where she was listening to one of her audiobooks that she’s heard approximately 100 times. By the hand and without a word, I led her down the stairs.

She didn’t like that one bit. She wasn’t sure what was up, but she knew she wasn’t going to like it. She fought me a bit even on the steps, but I didn’t yell and attained a bit more cooperation when I calmly told her that she could get hurt acting that way on stairs. Her brow furrowed, she trudged downstairs behind me. While she’d stopped physically resisting, her verbal resistance, “I don’t need you to hold my hand!”, served to inform me she was still not liking this one bit.

I walked her over to the still setup vacuum, placed her hand on the handle, placed my hand over hers and assumed a position behind her. We then turned on the vacuum cleaner and I slowly and methodically demonstrated how to vacuum the whole floor, with her present the entire time.

She fought me the whole way. Complaining I was holding her hand to tight; telling me she already knew how to vacuum (I merely replied “All evidence to the contrary.”); saying she’d already done that part. At one point, she spied a dustbunny across the room and wanted to go right over to hit it with the vacuum. I gently redirected her and explained we would get there in a bit. Finally, she said she got it so I let her try a small area.

Clearly, she didn’t get it, so I resumed my training.

I’m not under any delusions that she can now properly vacuum the floor. But if I continue to make the job so pleasant for her, I figure the message will sink in sooner than later. At least, that’s the plan. If one of us has to vacuum anyway to get the job done properly, we might as well make the most of it.

Categories
Family

A Wonderful Morning

Anyone out there thinking about kids are welcome to come spend a morning here, chez SAHD. That ought to fix ya.

The boy and the lass were at each other’s throats almost from the get go this morning. First, it was the boy lobbing snide comments as they were getting their breakfasts together. Those had the lass screaming at him to stop.

Then, while helping with lunches, things started getting physical. The lass started lightly kicking at the boy, who then started pushing her around. When the Wife told them to knock it off, the boy started mouthing off to her.

“It’s not my fault!”

She started it!”

“Why do I always get in trouble?!?”

“Why can my sister do things to me and I can’t do them to her?!?”

“Why do you hate me?!?”

Frankly, it’s way too much drama on three-quarters of a cup of coffee. Even a large cup.

So, both of them were given early bed times- and it wasn’t even 7:30 yet.

The punishment only elicited more howls of favoritism and indignation. So the Wife through in no morning TV, just for good measure. She was taking no prisoners this morning.

Then, after a brief period of detente just prior to heading out to school, the boy found out the lass had looked at his library book. Apparently, he’d forbidden her form doing that. Under what authority, I don’t know- but he felt he had the ability to do that. It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that he might as well have drizzled chocolate syrup all over the book.

That launched the “Copying Game,” which the boy always goes to when he really wants to get his sister’s goat. Predictably, the lass obliged and was screaming at him to knock it off, receiving his soft mimics in reply every time.

They are both at school now. And the house is quiet, easily the best thing that’s happened so far.

Categories
Family

Off to the Fair

Off to take the kids to the fair for the rides.

And the food.

UPDATE:

Ugh. 11 hours later, I’m finally home. Right now, I’ll be happy to not see another fair ride until next year. I never thought the kids would last on the rides for 6 hours. But they did, and would have lasted longer as well.

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Family

1 for 4

Until this morning, the lass had woken up in an abysmal mood. She was short tempered, uncooperative and generally not a child anyone in the house wanted to be around.

After I returned from bringing them to school yesterday, I told the Wife that I’d be damned if I was going to have to put up with that behavior all year. We sent her to bed early last night and told her we’d continue to do so until her morning behavior improved. Our rationale was that the long day meant she was too tired and therefore she needed more sleep.

She pushed back, worried that she’d never have a normal bedtime. I said she’d go to bed at a normal time as soon as her morning behavior improved. Next, she blamed her morning moods on not being used to getting up so early. I laughed at that and told her she’d been up all Summer long at the same time and hadn’t been unpleasant in the mornings. She considered this, then asked me “Why was I able to be in a good mood during the Summer, but not now?

I chuckled at this and as I left her room last night, told her she should ponder that question.

So this morning, she was good enough that she didn’t earn herself another early bedtime.

The boy, on the other hand…