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Family

Tee Ball Again

So this year, the Wife and I actually steered the boy away from participating in any Spring sports. His biggest problem I can only characterize as an immaturity of expectations. He expects to be great without working at it and is really upset to find out that he isn’t great without working at it. Last year, every time out for baseball was a battle if he got out or didn’t get a hit or anything. It got to the point where it wasn’t fun for him or me.

The other point against his participating is that he’s already involved in Scouts and martial arts. So his after school time is already filled to a degree by that stuff. Adding 2 more night of baseball to the mix, even for just a few weeks, would have been that much less time for himself. He values that time and the Wife and I don’t want to take it from him if that’s what he really wanted. Ultimately, that’s what he chose.

The lass, on the other hand, couldn’t wait for Tee Ball to start this year. She even started practicing before the season started. The big surprise for me was that I was contacted about coaching one of the teams this year. Having helped coach 2 Tee ball teams and a coach pitch team, it seemed like something I was capable of handling.

We had our first practice tonight. A nice bunch of kids. I knew some of them already, making things easier for me. The hardest part was the field itself, which must have been tilled to prep it for the season. The last couple of days of rain softened it considerably and our feet were sinking in as we were walking on it. It was odd because the field didn’t look wet. The kids were amused when the lass lost one of her shoes when it got sucked off by the mud. I moved the rest of the practice into the outfield after that.

I kept the practice short. Or, at least, as short as I could. Mainly, we just stuck to the basics of catching and a little practice hitting the ball off the tee. Opening Day is this weekend, so they’ll be fine for that. I’ll have the rest of the season to mold them into Major League talent…

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Family

What the Kids are Watching

I have to say that the Netflix streaming service has been great for the kids. There’s seemingly no end to the cartoon entertainment available. Which is good, because they haven’t tended to go back to a cartoon franchise once they’ve completed it. The only one they sometimes go back to is Avatar: The Last Airbender.

For now, they’ve been watching episodes of Woody Woodpecker. These aren’t the original cartoons, though. Rather, it’s a re-boot of the original. The only characters I recall from the first go around are Woody himself and Buzz Buzzard. They’ve introduced nephews for Woody as well as Winnie, a sometimes girlfriend, Wally Walrus and Miss Meanie. In all, the only one who’s consistently amusing is Wally and that’s almost entirely to do with his think Svedish accent. I mean Swedish accent. It’s quite catchy. In all, I’d rate it as OK on the entertainment scale and certainly inferior to the original. But the kids enjoy it. Fortunately, the smarty-pants routines are seeping into the kids personalities.

The other one we found is the old chestnut Inspector Gadget whom the kids have just started watching recently. Gadget gets old since every episode is rehash of the same story line with Penny and Brain saving the world while Gadget bumbles through the episode. I don’t know how long they’ll watch this series, but there’s nothing objectionable to it.

Last night, I discovered Transformers Prime. Now this is a good cartoon. It’s one of the computer animated variety, and certainly the subject matter is well suited to the medium. The kids are old enough to watch it, but I wouldn’t let younger kids watch it since the material is definitely on the darker side of the spectrum. But Optimus Prime and his sense of honor and duty dominate the story and that’s something worth having them watch. In my opinion, it’s a better story line than any of the 3 movies that preceded it. And lets face it, big robots that turn into cars and planes is awesome entertainment. Right now, there is only season 1, but season 2 will become available later this year.

This week being a vacation week, the burn rate on the cartoons has been increased a bit. Even so, with these 3 to rotate through, they should be entertained for a while yet.

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Family

10th Birthday Idea

I’m on board with this. In fact, I think it would make for a great 10th birthday theme. Stick a bow on a bottle of Tide, some Clorox and some Bounce, throw in a few new clothes and underwear and it’ll be a 10th birthday neither would forget.

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Family

Parental Follies

After dinner tonight, the kids wanted to ride their bikes a bit. We don’t have a very good setup for bike riding at our home, though. Our driveway is fairly narrow and all gravel. I suppose the gravel part is OK once you’ve learned to ride, but training wheels and gravel don’t work. Also, there’s the small matter of about 4 chords of waiting-to-be-chopped firewood sitting in the middle of our driveway at the moment, which makes for even less room for riding.

Our lawn isn’t exactly great for riding either. Fairly narrow with the logical turn around spots on hills. Plus, it’s kind of bumpy. Of course, if the lawn was really nice, we probably wouldn’t want them riding on it.

But they tried to make the most of it. The boy, particularly, is good enough to be able to tool around a bit back there. The lass is still learning how to ride. I told her to just keep her feet out to the side and try to balance on the bike as it went down the hill. So she practiced at that for a bit.

At one point, they asked if I could ride their bikes. Not in the “Will you do it?” sense, but in the “is it possible?” sense. When I told them I could ride either of their bikes, I offered to demonstrate by riding the lass’ bike down the little hill.

They thought that would be grand.

So I got myself setup on the lass’ bike (standing on the petals) and started down the hill. Just after I hit the bottom, I must have hit a bump. That and the fact that I exceed the reasonable weight limits of the bike resulted in the handle bars tilting way forward on me. I tried to correct the situation, but must have pulled on the hand brake on her bike. With all of my weight already forward as a result of the handle bars, I went flying head first off the bike.

While the landing wasn’t particularly pretty, it also wasn’t particularly harmful. Due to the size of the bike, I was only a couple of feet off the ground at most to start with. I did more damage to the few tufts of grass we’ve got in the yard than anything else. Naturally, I got up and dusted myself off and acted like the professional idiot that I am.

The kids were quiet for a moment, then the boy asked “Is that why we wear helmets, Dad?”

“Yes, that’s why you wear helmets,” I answered.

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Family

Kids and Clickers

Some of you reading this may remember a time before cable. Back then, channel choices were limited to UHF and VHF. Most of the networks channels were on VHF and those typically came in the clearest. But it was rare that the antenna could remain in one position and maximize reception for all the stations. If you remember those times, perhaps you also remember to whom the job fell to tune the antenna. Us (at the time) kids. If we were particularly unlucky, the mere act of touching the antenna would result in better reception. At which point it was time to settle in and get comfortable.

Not only did we tune the antenna, we also were the remote controls for our parents. And, I suppose, why not? Since we were already up there futzing with the antenna. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. We’d patiently stand up there flicking the dials on the TV (or pushing the buttons for the stations on the more modern versions) waiting for some kind of “OK” to signal that a station had been selected and we could return to our seat. Assuming we weren’t making reception possible, that is.

I mention this because I think there’s something useful there from a parenting perspective. Namely, the act of a parent having a child do something trivial. While I remember being none to thrilled with the job at the time, as a parent I actually think that things like this have a place in helping parents raise their kids.

Mainly, it’s an assertion of dominance. Not the kind of dominance where a parent is actually forcing a child, mentally or physically, to do things a certain way. Rather, it’s the kind of dominance where the notion is enforced that the family has a pecking order and the parents are at the top of that order, while the kids reside somewhere lower in that order.

I’ve never bought into the “parents as friends” line of thinking. Kids don’t know enough about the world in order to make good decisions. As a case in point, we had a Roadside Cleanup with the Cub Scouts this past weekend. In my group of boys, one of them decided that a good diversion was to pretend a bear had emerged from the woods and was chasing him. So he ran off screaming right down the middle of the road. (I did take him aside immediately to deal with the behavior and he didn’t do it anymore). Like I said, not the best at decision making. We parents have to teach them that sort of thing, be it through example or by talking them through the decision making or by scolding them when they get something demonstrably wrong or by letting them suffer the consequences of their own decisions.

Now, can a parent teach that sort of thing (or anything, for that matter) if the child doesn’t respect the parent as the leader? Not likely, in my book. Does anyone listen to someone they don’t respect?

But how to establish that pecking order? How to establish that status as the leader above the kids? That’s were kids-as-clickers comes into play.

Using the kids as a clicker reinforces the pecking order of the family because the kids are the one doing the work for their parents. It works because it happens every day and it’s a trivial exercise for the kids to perform. After a short period of time, it’s simply understood that this is one of their jobs as a kid, so they do it with minimal fuss. This makes it a win because for a couple of reasons. One, it’s a low-overhead request; meaning parents won’t have to expend a lot of emotional energy (aka- screaming) to get the kids to follow through. Second, it helps to lay the ground work for future moments where you’ll need their help or you’ll want to explain something important to them (like how pretending a bear is chasing you as a pretext for running, screaming down the middle of the road is a bad idea).

Nowadays, we have actual real remote controls so kids don’t have to be our remotes. But there’s still no shortage of simple tasks that they can do: retrieving food from the pantry or freezer, getting the mail, letting the pets in and out, feeding the pets, bringing clothes for laundry. Frankly, whatever they can be convinced to help out with works towards the ends of reinforcing the notion that the parents are the boss. The key is that it has to be fairly trivial to perform (thereby minimizing the opportunity for foot dragging), and it has to be something that needs to be done (now they’ve done something useful rather than just some random request because Mom or Dad is on a power trip)

All that said, kids-as-clickers is not a cure all. Just because they do these things doesn’t mean they’ll become perfect little angels. At least, not if my 2 are any indicator. They’ll still carp about certain tasks, and claim it’s the other ones turn; but, I do think they are more likely to listen in general as well as primed for larger requests of their time and effort as a result of having established the pattern of parents-ask-and-children-do.

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Family

Vacation Awaits

Well, vacation for the kids anyway. Spring vacation has arrived and, judging be the weather forecast, Spring itself as well. There won’t be any swimming just yet, but it can’t be far away at this point.

The Wife and kids spent most of today out in the yard starting the cleanup. The kids were actually useful this year for a change. They helped carry all the the Wife pulled out of the gardens and carried it down to the compost. The boy even emptied the wheelbarrow of a load of firewood, stack the wood by himself, so they could use the wheelbarrow for carting the crap instead of a bucket.

They were paid with ice cream from one of the local dairies later on. It’s never too early for dairy made ice cream. Especially maple walnut. Yum.

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Family

Useless Tattletaling- An Example

The lass comes downstairs this morning after waking up to find the Wife preparing her morning cup o’ Joe. She proceeds to inform on the boy:

“Mom, my brother didn’t wake up this morning until he farted and scared the cat off the bed.”

Now, what exactly are we supposed to do with that information? Personally, I laughed.

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Family

Making the Impossible Possible

The sound was a very familiar one to me. I’ve heard it many a time over the past few years. Borrowing from Dr. Seuss, it could appropriately be described by It started in low. Then it started to grow…

Only this sound wasn’t merry. In fact it was very un-merry.

It was the beginning of sobbing from the boy.

What could possibly have reduced him to such a state? If you’re suspecting me, well, that would be a fair guess I suppose, but in this case I can’t claim credit. It was his homework that had done him in.

That and having low blood-sugar levels.

His homework involved using his spelling words for the week. He’s been very good all year with spelling, even knowing all of the bonus words the teacher has tossed out. The exercise that did him in was the final one on the worksheet, which wanted him to write a paragraph describing how to do some gardening using 5 of the spelling words.

The problem he had was it wasn’t obvious how to use any of the words to describe ow to garden. The phrase he kept using was “It’s IMPOSSIBLE!” Hmm, actually it was more like “It’s IMPOSSIBLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!”

At this point in my parenting career, I don’t have much patience for crying. Especially because something is hard- cry me a river. It’s just a phrase but the boy was taking it literally. So I sat silently, waiting for him to stop. I didn’t even bother with the usual “Does crying solve anything?” type of attack. It’s not worth it as it only would have given voice to my frustration.

Since he wasn’t in a hurry to calm down, I took his worksheet to see what all the fuss was about. As it turns out, not only was his assignment possible- there existed a shining example of it in the previous problem. It was a paragraph about gardening using all of the spelling words, only some of them were misspelled. For that one, he was supposed to identify the misspelled words. He managed that just fine.

Back to the problem at hand, I informed him about the example on the worksheet. But this only agitated him further because he couldn’t use it. Oddly, I felt a little better after his statement since he’d voluntarily rejected plagiarism as a solution.

Since he still wasn’t calming down, I decided that the best course was to make him eat something. He continued to whimper all the way through his meal. To the point that I decided to eat somewhere else. Finally, after he’d finished his meal he calmed down. I’m guessing those two things are not unrelated.

Then wouldn’t you know, he went and wrote a paragraph about gardening using his spelling words. I even checked it over, correcting his spelling mistakes and helping him with his writing in general. He was a habit of creating runon sentences and using the same phrases over and over and over again without breaking things up into different sentences so that he has a whole bunch of words that are tied together and by the time you are done reading his sentence you are out of breath because you weren’t sure it would ever end and did I mention about the runons?

So it turned out to not be so impossible.

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Family

Bad Pasta

What kind of parenting blog would be complete without a little puke?

Got home from the boy’s MA class tonight, and he went right to the couch with a stressed kind of breathing. Next thing I know, I get those 6 words every parent loves to hear: “I think I’m going to THROWUP!”

He made a bee-line for the bathroom, and pretty much just made it. Several minutes later, it was all over. I checked him and he didn’t have fever or anything, so I had him take a shower and, since it was close to bed time, basically just herded him to bed.

I made pasta with meatballs for dinner tonight. So far, the lass and I are fine. Of course, the lass loves pasta so much her body may be overriding the stomachs desire to evacuate. Here’s to hoping. As for the boy, I was thinking perhaps I hadn’t served him dinner far enough in advance of his MA class, so he’d gotten an upset stomach as a result of that.

Anyway, I’d just finished the greatest comeback in my history with WwF, when I heard the distinct coughing sounds of a child retching. When I made it upstairs, I discovered the boy hanging off the side of his bed, hovering over a puddle of noodles. Apparently, the puking process interferes with other neural pathways, because the boy continued to hover there, spitting onto the floor. When I asked him if he still had more, he grunted at me in reply. So I went over to him and got him moving towards the bathroom in case there was an encore.

Thankfully, there wasn’t. But I still had the mess to clean up. Upon closer inspection, he’d nailed the side of his bed as well. So I did the bed strip-tease and got that laundry going. In the meantime, what can I use to clean puke out of the carpet? Murhpy’s Oil Soap? No. Orange Cleaner? No. Resolve Stain Remover? No. Finally, I found some Woolite which seemed likely to be my best option. By then, I noticed my socks were wet. Which is great, because I’m sure when foot sweat and residual puke get together, it’s good times!

So the boy’s bed has been remade and I’ve spot cleaned the floor. I’ve also left him with a bucket. I thought I was doing pretty well, but then the boy appeared (while I’m on my hands and knees cleaning the carpet) and says “Aren’t you going to put a cold towel on my neck?”

After considering him for a moment, I replied “Do you feel hot? Like you’ve got a fever?”

“No” he said, “but that’s what Mom always does.”

Mom is, unfortunately, away at the moment, so it’s just me. And the pukes. I finally told him “Well, go ahead if that’ll make you feel better.” So he did.

He also wanted to know if he was going to school tomorrow- he’s always thinking ahead. I suppose I should commend him for trying to find a silver lining, but his silver lining will cause me some issues tomorrow. All I could tell him is that first we had to get him through tonight, and we’d see what tomorrow will bring.

At least in this case, I know what I hope it won’t bring.

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Family

Not Ready to Risk Losing

Saturday, the boy competed in his first Martial Arts tournament. It was a school sponsored event, so he was amongst friends out there. Even so, it was telling when it finally dawned on him that he’d have to perform in front of people. All by himself. He’d been asking what would happen at the tournament and I tried to explain what he’d be doing, but I guess he just never made the connection. The deer-in-the-headlights look he had when it finally clicked was pretty good though.

In all, he competed well. He only competed in forms, which are a series of blocks and punches with various footwork thrown in. The form he did he performed well- probably the best I’ve seen him do it. But it wasn’t enough and he didn’t medal.

But here’s the thing- it was really obvious who the older kids were. Based on my off-the-cuff survey, it looks like 9 is the magic age where coordination and muscle control becomes noticeably improved. In fact, all of the kids who earned medals were 3rd graders or higher, regardless of belt level.

The boy was clearly disappointed. It will be interesting to see if he ever wants to compete again. The Wife and I won’t push him to do so. He’s at a point where he wants to win so badly that he’d rather not participate than lose. Which is weird. He’s competing at a much younger age than I ever did, so I don’t have a frame of personal frame of reference. Clearly, the other kids aren’t so concerned with winning and losing like he is. That’s about my only data point and all it means, right now, is that he’s a little different from them.

Nothing wrong with that.

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Family

A Little Graft Never Hurts

Alright, ‘graft’ may be a little strong.

The boy left the Easter Bunny a note:

Thank you for all of the little gifts.

And he signed it from himself. He left it along with a glass of water (the Easter Bunny doesn’t drink milk) and some carrots (which might be left over from Christmas when we had them for the reindeer- hopefully, the Easter Bunny doesn’t know). The assumption that he’ll be getting gifts is almost a bit too much.

I can’t say he behaved particularly poorly today, although there was one period where I blew my stack at both kids, more for affect than anything. The Wife has asked them to put their clothes away. Seems simple enough- not a lot of room to over interpret or misinterpret that request. Well, 40 minutes later of banging around, screaming and slamming doors, their clothes still weren’t put away. The Wife asked them a 2nd time and is was final door slam where I stepped in. I gave them 10 minutes to get the clothes put away and the dinner table set. If they couldn’t get those done, they were both going to bed early. Also, any more door slamming and they went to bed early.

No more door slamming, clothes put away, table set; all with time to spare.

Maybe he was trying to cover his bases.

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Family

The Difference a Generation Makes

I spent the better part of the day splitting firewood. With my elbow surgery, that was a significant project which languished through the Winter months. I tried to work on it at one point, but my arm started getting sore. Thus, I figured best to lay off. With the Winter being so lame, it worked out fine since I didn’t need to worry about dipping into the newly chopped firewood.

Before I went out, I made sure to inform the kids they would be assisting me. I wasn’t looking for much- mainly, help with loading the chopped wood into the wheelbarrow so it could be taken over to the pile for stacking.

All told, the kids stuck it out for almost 4 hours worth of work. And not the most fun kind of work either. Lugging firewood from one pile to another pretty much exemplifies tedium. At one point, they were making a game of it, trying to move the chopped wood faster than I could create more. They lost steam for the last hour or so, with the lass basically checking out about an hour before I finally stopped.

She was rolling around on the ground, pretending to sneak up on the pile, or something like that. That was a pretty good sign that she’d had it.

The boy stuck it out until the end. I did have to help him with getting the last of the chopped wood stacked, but he didn’t complain or whine the entire time.

Despite the success with getting them to pitch in, the thing that really struck me was how quickly they decided that their work wasn’t for free. Throughout much of the day, they wanted to know how much it was worth. Would they get money for their school’s mini-mall next week? Was it worth extra DS time? Could they play the Wii?

And here it comes… When I was a kid helping out with some type of chore at home, I never expected my parents to reward me for the work. I did it because it was expected of me. The difference between myself and my kids struck me.

I suspect their mild form of extortion is a result of the current trends where kids are rewarded with something when they do something right. Or, at least, not wrong or destructive. Kids are smart enough to extrapolate that meager reward early on to more self serving rewards later.

They’ll have to relearn those habits though, or they’ll end up being disappointed more often than not.

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Family

Center of the Universe

The boy has tests each week for math. Each week, the Wife or I try to work with him so that he’s ready for the tests. Emphasis on try. Now that he has free time, he’s somewhat selfish about it and would rather spend it playing than spend it going over math. Now, it’s not like we’re asking him to spend hours and hours on addition and subtraction. Rather, we’re just trying to help him polish off his skills. Some extra questions here, a few minutes there. That sort of thing.

Well, a couple of nights ago we had him take a practice version of the latest iteration of his math test. It’s a 4 minute test where he’s got a goal of answering 100 problems. The Wife set him up with a practice test and set a timer for him and off he went.

He grumbled and snarled the entire time. He didn’t want to be doing it. It was stupid. On and on and on. Finally, when it was done, he commented “I can’t wait for my sister to be in the 2nd grade so she’ll have to do this.”

Nice sentiment, huh?

Of course, the only problem with his train of thought is that the lass won’t hate it. She’ll love it. When she gets homework now in kindergarten, she comes home, sits down and starts doing it. When the boy made his obnoxious little comment, she turned to the Wife and said “Mom, I like school work.”

The boy continued to insist that things would be different once she was there. I’m pretty sure he’ll be wrong.

That seems to be the mindset of late. Everything is focused through himself. If he doesn’t like something, then no one will. If he thinks it’s stupid, then it obviously is. It’s most prevalent where his sister is concerned, which I expect to some extent.

More than anything, the Wife and I try to ignore his outbursts. Some of his statements are so ridiculous that I, try as I might, cannot hold back the urge to correct him. Even so, he just digs his heels in and plows forward with whatever he was thinking. On occasion, when he takes things too far(a little too belligerent or too smart a mouth- whatever), he ends up in the hotseat with some kind of discipline.

Somewhere along the way, he’ll come to terms with his myopia. Until then, all we can do is wait.

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Family

I’m Not Irish

The Wife has been outfitting me with some new clothing lately. I guess she’s tired of my, uh, well worn wardrobe. She ordered a bunch of shirts for me to try on and they all arrived today. Coincidentally, the lass had arrived home only a little earlier, so she was present to watch me try them on.

One of the shirts is a green color. Upon seeing it, the first thing the lass told me was “Dad, you can’t wear green- your not an Irish person.” The Wife and I started laughing. Her declaration was correct as far as me being Irish, but we didn’t have the faintest clue what that had to do with me wearing green.

She went on to explain that because I didn’t wear green for Leprechaun’s Day, I couldn’t be Irish and therefore can’t wear green.

I suppose that’s reasonable when you’re 6.

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Family

OK- We’ll Ask

The lass got to spend more shopping time with the Wife tonight. The Wife passed on an amusing exchange with the lass during the ride home.

the lass: Mom, can me and my brother go to Meme and Grandpa’s house again this Summer without you?

the Wife: Of course- you really like going to Meme and Grandpa’s house?

the lass: Yep. We get to make my salad and my brother’s potatoes.

the Wife: What’s your salad?

the lass: It’s got lettuce and tomatoes and cucumbers and carrots and croutons in it and I like it better than your salad.

I’ll interrupt this conversation to note that during the summer we pretty regularly serve the kids a salad. It almost always consists of the exact same ingredients.

Back to the conversation:

the Wife: Well, how come you like it better?

the lass: Because I make it.

the Wife: Why don’t you make it here at home?

the lass: Because you never ask.

the Wife: OH….what are your brother’s potatoes?

the lass: Potatoes.

the Wife: Are they made with anything?

the lass: Potatoes.

The Wife gave up trying to get further details at that point.

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Family

The Boy Finishes the Book

Way back in December, I read The Invention of Hugo Cabret and mentioned the boy was interested enough to read it.

Well, it wasn’t always easy and it definitely took a little bribery along the way, but the boy finally finished the book tonight. Our final carrot for him has been he had to finish it before we’d let him see the movie. When he started today, he had about 100 pages to go. Fortunately for him, the majority of them were pictures and he managed it.

When it was done, he was all smiles from ear-to-ear. He’s quite proud of himself for getting through it. The Wife and I are too.

Now the trick will be getting him to try another one.

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Family

Fixing Mistakes

Having finished her sandwich, but still being hungry, the lass was searching for something else to eat. So I pulled out some strawberries and blueberries and offered them as options. She did some kind of funny thing with her head which I interpreted as shaking her head “No.” So, I put them back in the fridge and left her to her own devices to pick something.

It turns out, my interpretation of the funny-head-thing was incorrect. She was actually just looking back and forth at the two options really fast. Or something. When I turned back around she was walking with the strawberries and blueberries back to her seat to finish her lunch.

She’d stacked the blueberry container on top of the strawberry container, and about half-way back to her seat, semi-disaster struck. The blueberry container fell, hit the floor, opened up and spilled half a pint of blueberries all over the floor.

The lass’ first reaction… was to whip her head around and look at me.

There was a time when the kids were younger where I would have scolded her for being careless, or whatever other fault might have led to the box of blueberries getting dumped on the floor. We did the same thing with the boy. I think a direct result of those choices were to make the kids terrified of making those mistakes. I remember as the boy got older and more capable and those mistakes continued to happen, the boy would get mad and sulk. The lass too, would have her own version of that reaction. The result was a tempering of my own reaction and shifting gears to get them to act to clean up the mess.

The lass’ instant head-turn was an artifact of that whole dynamic. She was checking to see if I was going to blow my stack or otherwise get on her case. Fortunately, I’ve learned a little bit and I barely reacted at all. I told her something to the effect “You can just pick them up and we’ll wash them off, no big deal.” She set the strawberries down and then got down on the floor and (carefully!) fixed the blueberry container so more blueberries didn’t end up on the floor. I went and grabbed her a bowl, and she spent the next couple of minutes cleaning up the mess. Then I washed them up and that was the end of it.

I’ve never been one to claim infallibility on my part. When it comes to something like parenting, it can be difficult to determine when I’ve made a mistake versus a judgment call that could have gone any of a number of ways. Further complicating matters, there are sometimes just flatout unpleasant moments that happen. All I can do is be a little introspective, and try to judge my actions, or inactions, for those less-than-scripted moments. I know I won’t always get them right and it may even take a few iterations to realize my mistake. But at least I can work to fix them.

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Family

Choosing Well and Paying the Price

The boy and I had the afternoon to ourselves today. The Wife took the lass shopping. She gave the boy the option to come along, but he politely declined. What can I say? He’s a quick study…

So he and I had a pretty easy day, in all. A little catch with the football (Nerf- the other ones hurt his hands still), a little playing with the dogs, a little playing on the Wii and the next thing we knew it was dinner time. So I took him to Wendy’s, where he ate a triple-decker burger and fries and drink.

Then complained about a belly ache later that evening.

The lass and the Wife were gone almost until bed time. Considering it’s 45 minutes to their destination, that makes for about 7 hours worth of walking around and shopping. Personally, I say the boy chose well; even with the belly ache.

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Family

I Don’t Take Orders from 5 Year Olds

Lately, the lass has taken to trying to boss me. Nothing too major, most stuff that skirts closer to the nagging side of the spectrum than and overt command. But it’s pretty clear that the intent is there.

One of the things she, inexplicably, likes to ding me for is cleaning up. I say ‘inexplicably’ because cleaning up is definitely not her strong suit either. So her comments almost take on a ‘pot calling the kettle black’ quality.

Except, sticking with the cookware metaphor, it’s more like a little tin cup talking to a witches cauldron… On second thought, let’s not push that metaphor too far.

The point is, aside from the usual levels of laziness, I have reasons for not doing something right then. Often times, it involves having a kid do the job instead.

Like that empty dish sitting in front of me after dinner? The one she’s wagging her finger at me and saying “Daaaaddy, you’ve got to put your dish in the dishwasher.” To which I calmly reply, “No, I don’t. That’s your job.” Right after she finishes the wad of food in her mouth and whatever is left on her plate. Sometimes she’ll try to “cute” her way out of it. Most times it doesn’t work. The one tactic she occasionally uses that does work is to take forever-and-a-day to finish her dinner. If I wait that long, things will be growing on my plate before she gets to it.

After another more overt attempt at telling me what to do, I informed her “I don’t take orders from 5 year olds.”

She giggled triumphantly and retorted “I’m not 5, I’m 6!”

I didn’t miss a beat: “I don’t take orders from them either.”

At that point, she put her hands on her hips, squinted her eyes at me while cocking her head to the side, smirked, and said nothing. Then she danced off to whatever was next at the time. I can only assume she couldn’t come up with a further retort at that time. Somehow I doubt that will always be the case.

Interestingly, the boy has not been trying to do likewise. Not that I’m complaining.

Because 3 people trying to boss me around is 3 too many.

Categories
Family

The Boy Stands Up for a Friend

We didn’t find out about it from the boy though. We found out from the Mother of the boy’s friend, who wanted to email us because she was so happy with the what the boy did that she wanted to make sure we knew.

Apparently, his friend has been having some trouble with other kids, mostly consisting of name calling. In this particular instance, they were all playing a game together when a couple other kids started in on the boy’s friend. The boy told them to knock it off or they’d stop playing the game. That ended it.

It’s a strange combination of amusing and frustrating that we found out like this. We ask him about his school days everyday, and mostly we might Just as well be asking him questions about special relativity or imaginary numbers. Guess it just didn’t rate that, on one of those days we asked about, he’d stuck up for a friend. Even so, we’re not going to get too bent out of shape in this case.

For all the time spent correcting him here at the house and when we’re around, it’s still never a sure thing how they’ll behave when they’re on their own. It’s always nice to be pleasantly surprised.