A Stay At Home Dad

The boy returned home today with 3 pennies.

“Where’d you get the pennies from?” the Wife asked.

“I traded them for a quarter” he replied.

I think that means he’s got the same econ acumen as most congressman.

Last week ended with a whimper. Friday was a half-day of school and both kids really needed the long weekend. It was obvious, especially for the boy, that the days had taken their toll and they had basically “had it” by week’s end.

This week, the lass has been quite content with going to school. I daresay she even seems to look forward to getting to her class and her teacher. She still has a smile when she gets off the bus at lunch time.

The boy has no compunction voicing his displeasure at going to school. He repeatedly states “I don’t want to go to school.” Initially, I thought he was trying to start an argument. But the way he continues to say it, I now think that it’s a sort of prayer for deliverance. The Wife and I both do our best to ignore him.

He seems to be heading for a showdown. It’s possible that he’s working up the courage for an all out act of defiance one morning where he refuses to go out the door and get in the car. I say this because he’s dragged his feet a little more each day on the way out- like he’s testing the waters so as to measure our reaction. Though whether he’ll take it another step remains to be seen.

We’ve attempted the usual sorts of persuasion to help his attitude, but without much success. The funny thing is he seems to enjoy school once he’s there- it’s just the “getting to there” that’s the issue. It’s possible that he’s just surly in the mornings. But his morning attitude during summer vacation wasn’t this poor.

It’s also possible that it’s part of the process of being a six-year old. But that’s a topic for another post.

That’s the best word for the lass at this point. Once she sets her mind to something, there is absolutely, positively no reasoning her out of it or convincing her otherwise.

This morning she refused to eat her oatmeal breakfast. Why? Not because she doesn’t like oatmeal. But because she wanted waffles. It was protest fast, apparently.

But it’s not limited to food, though that’s a target rich environment. Clothing, shoes, toys, games and other things I’m sure I’ve forgotten to mention all fall prey to her whims. For instance, for most of the Summer, she refused to wear anything on her feet, despite repeated requests and warnings about splinters from our deck. After the first splinter was pulled out, we figured she’d start wearing them. Seems logical, right?

Not the lass. Instead, she now refuses to let anyone but herself remove splinters from her feet. Not only that, but she insists on a very particular set of tweezers for the task.

How can she be stubborn about clothing, you ask?

Certain tops have to be worn with certain bottoms. Don’t dare try to mess with that order, lest ye receive a tantrum and scolding about what shirt she can wear with that bottom.

And she’s only 4.

All things considered, it was a most unusual world I stepped into when I came up from the basement.

The guardian sits and protects the treasure chest. It’s an odd sort of treasure chest. One typically conjures an image of an old strap-style chest with metal patches on the corners for reinforcement and a large lock taking some kind of special key. But not this treasure chest. It has no straps or locks or metal patches. It is perfectly smooth with no lid and it is a translucent lime-green color.

As unusual as the treasure chest is, so to is it’s protector. He is wearing a suit of armor. As with the treasure chest, this is not a normal suit of armor. The first striking thing is its color- dark green. The markings on it give its wearer the appearance of enormous muscles in the chest and arms. The bottoms look like a tattered pair of pants, as though they were bursting at the seams because the wearer was so large. He is armed with a gun and fires off the occasional shot to ward off the enemy. POP!

Inside the treasure chest is a solitary item. A battered magic wand, black with colorful streamers flowing from its starry tip. It belongs to the huntress and she is out fighting the forces of darkness.

She has her trusty gun. POP! POP! POP! She blasts away at her foes. She is wearing a blue gown, more suited to going to the ball than fighting beasties. Upon her head rests a matching tiara. She navigates through a landscape filled with giant trees(but not bigger than a giant) with volcanoes and mountains. The volcanoes must be destroyed so they don’t explode.

And what are they protecting the treasure from?

Bad animals.

More specifically, all animals except African Greys, lizards and one elephant. Everything else is bad. The lizards are their allies. They change color and sneak up on the bad elephants, climbing onto their backs and scratching them.

But now the huntress has returned from her patrol. She seems perplexed- something is bothering her. She and the guardian begin an intense conversation about the elephants. She does not think they are bad, but he is not convinced. Finally, he relents and nows agrees that all elephants are good, except for the one dark one. The huntress resumes here hunt for a brief time.

Abruptly, she sits down. She’s tired of the hunt. So to, I notice, is the guardian, who hasn’t moved from his seat next to the treasure chest nor has he fired a shot in some time. There are a few moments of silence and stillness and then the lass gets up and takes off her tiara and her gown declaring “I don’t want to do this anymore.” The boy’s silence speaks his agreement.

The lass comes over and sits next to me on the couch. I feel as though my intrusion disturbed their world. That, had I not come in and sat down, they would still be defending the magic wand in that other world. There’s a slight nagging guilt and I hope that if I’m quiet and still their world will return. But once left, there is no going back.

And then we’re sitting in the family room. An ordinary family room.

The boy just asked if he could play the Wii and I told him “No- it’s too nice outside.”

“No- it’s too hot outside and I’ll get all sweaty. I’ll do sports inside on the Wii and get exercise…” he replied, a touch of desperation in his voice.

I again replied “No.”

“That is SO NOT FAIR! Life is supposed to be FAIR!” he shot back.

When I calmly asked him who told him that, he muttered “No one, I just know.” Then he walked off. If there had been dirt to kick, he would have kicked it.

*Sigh.”

So much to learn, so little time to learn it.

Some quick background-

First, about 6 months ago or so one of my parents’ dogs passed away. It was a completely unexpected passing- she was a young and energetic Bernese Mountain Dog. Mom was upset enough to call me minutes after it happened. I remember being at swimming lesson with the kids and being shocked at the news. Later that evening I told the Wife, who was equally stunned, and the decision was made not to say anything to the kids.

Second, a couple of weeks ago we were down visiting my parents- the first visit since the dog had died. We finally told the kids about it prior to leaving. We didn’t want them obsessing about it down at their place, as is their (understandable) custom about such things. While we were visiting, the Red Lored Amazon Mom had rescued about 15 years ago had to be put to sleep due to the development of cancer. Unlike the dog, Mom had a suspicion the bird was failing because of it’s behavior prior to the vet visit. Still, it wasn’t an easy thing. The bird not returning home from the visit to the vet took a little for the kids to wrap their minds around. The boy most particularly, who disappeared for a bit to contemplate events on his own upon realizing what had transpired.

And that brings us to last night.

The Wife had the kids call Grandma to thank her for the recent gift of books she had sent. The lass went first and said her thanks and chatted for a few moments. Then she passed the phone to her brother so he could do his diligence.

The first words out of this mouth:

Hi Grandma, did anything else die?

The Wife and I just about fell on the floor. I sharply rebuked him and he changed the subject, a little confused. I’m not sure what Grandma’s reaction was on the other end, but I did hear the boy say “Hello? Grandma?” a couple of times prior to thankfully changing the subject. The Wife took the phone afterwards and apologized. Trying to make the most of it in my own inimitable way, I told the Wife to tell her she’d just made the blog.

I guess this is evidence that ‘tact’ is a learned behavior. Of course, upon reflection it’s an understandable sort of thing. From his perspective, both animals, which he was very much aware of, were just all of a sudden gone. No warning or chance to absorb what-was-to-be. The boy was defensive about it afterwards and I softened my stance. He wanted to understand why the question was inappropriate. I’m not sure that I was able to properly explain either.

After all, now it was my turn to process recent events.

The lass returned home from Day 1 bright and chipper. She was excited to tell Mom about everything she did in school and to show her some of the drawings she had made while there.

The boy returned home from Day 1 out cold on the bus. Just like last year. He has yet to say anything to myself. I think he might have said a couple of things to the Wife, but they were … terse. I suppose it’s possible his day was that bad, but my guess is he’s still waking up. Regardless, we’re giving him a wide berth until his mood lifts.

180 more to go…

The kids are off for their first day of school. Mom took them today since it will be the lass’ first day at her new school with her new teacher. The bus comes by about 7:30, but they don’t actually get to school ’til 45 minutes later, so we’ve opted for dropping them off in the morning.

It had become typical that they would be up at the crack of dawn for the summer. It was actually something of a running joke between the Wife and I that there was no point in getting up early for quiet time because that just meant the kids would be up that much earlier. Meaning they’d be grumpier later during the day. Do the math.

So, of course, today being what it is, they both slept in. Fortunately, other than that, they were trouble free. In fact, they finished the new morning ritual early enough that they got to watch a few minutes of TV prior to departure.

Now, I’ve got 4 hours of quiet time. That may take some getting used to.

Or not.

The kids returned today to the sound of …

Tears.

There own, to be more specific.

There exhaustion from a whirlwind visit with their Grandparents had caught up with them. They had fallen asleep during the ride and were none to pleased with their wakeup call upon arrival. The boy came in the house grumpy and collapsed on the couch while the lass balled because her belly hurt.

Welcome home indeed.