Mr. Mom

My wife had a conference in Phoenix last week, so I was in charge of both of our girls for three days (and nights).  While having two kids is more demanding than two, at least you’re not outnumbered when both parents are present.

I was outnumbered last week.

I’ve learned that when there are more children than adults in a household, you have to switch from man-on-man coverage to a zone defense.  I was essentially trying to cover the middle third of the field and not give up any big plays.  Fortunately, we are blessed to have two very good girls and there were no major catastrophes, but any time you have sole responsibility over a 1 year old and 4 year old, there will be some stress.

Take dinner time for example.  I like to eat.  I enjoy dinner with my family.  I even like to cook!  But when all the extraneous demands of parenting hit at once, dinner can easily become a race to see how fast I can get my kids to down cheese toast covered in ketchup (hey, that’s what they wanted) before anything too bad happens.

As a special treat, I cooked my homemade pizza Friday night.  Here’s a rundown on how this went:

I’m about to take the pizza out of the oven.  Olivia is watching iCarly.  “Olivia, go wash your hands.  We’re about to eat.”

“Ok, daddy.”

I begin slicing the pizza.  What’s that smell?  Amelia walks by – gotta change a diaper.

I change the diaper and bring the baby back downstairs where I finish slicing the pizza.

“Olivia, wash your hands, please.”

“Ok, daddy.”

I get the plates fixed up for the girls and put Amelia in her high chair.

“OLIVIA, WASH YOUR HANDS NOW!”

“Can I pause the TV?”  My 4 year old daughter knows how to operate a DVR – if only she could teach my wife.

The girls are at the table, blessings have been said, and I’m about to take a bite out of my delicious pizza.  Olivia takes her bite first and the 4000 degree molten cheese under a pepperoni scalds her mouth.  I get her to drink her milk and after much consoling convince her to continue eating.  Now I can enjoy my dinner.

Not yet!  Amelia thinks the tomato sauce from her pizza would make a wonderful shampoo.  Not only that, but she thinks it feels wonderful in her ears. 

I get her cleaned up.  Olivia needs more milk.

I get Olivia more milk.  Amelia needs more food.

With everyone temporarily satisfied, I get ready to take my first bite.  Before I can even get my slice of pizza off my plate, Olivia says, “I need to go poop.”  While she’s old enough to go on her own, I still have to clean up.  So I put down my pizza and wait for her to take care of business so I can clean her up before eating my dinner.

Back at the table, I finally get to enjoy my room temperature pizza.  It is at this point that my dog, who is under the table, decides to release some of the nastiest gas that has ever emanated from any creature.  I finally get to eat my cold pizza while smelling dog gas after recently wiping a child’s rear end.  How appetizing!

 

My Daughter the Philanthropist

I have a coffee mug on the window sill in my closet where I throw loose change at the end of the day.  It was just about full, so my wife emptied it into a larger jar.  No big deal, right?

Well once my four year-old daughter discovered my coffee mug was empty, she started acting faster than Congress with a bailout check.  Olivia ran into the living room, where I was watching football and muttered something about change and a coffee cup.  I had no idea what was going on.  She ran up to her room where I heard some banging around, her incessant rambling, and the sound of loose change pouring in to the floor.  Then she ran past me and into my closet.

This process repeated itself about 4 or 5 times until she finally came downstairs with her whole piggy bank.  That’s when I realized what was going on.  I walked to my closet to find her sitting in the floor, shaking out her piggy bank, and filling up my coffee cup.  Moved by her generosity, I told her that she didn’t have to give me her money.

Her reply was, “No daddy.  I have enough money and you don’t have any.  You can have some of mine.”

I almost told her to stop emptying her piggy bank and keep her money for herself, but didn’t.  Here was a simple, honest act of generosity.  Who am I to stifle that?  I thanked her for giving me her money and let her know how nice it was for her to give me something without me even asking for it.

Usually parenting involves taking the time to teach valuable lessons to our children.  Sometimes they are the teachers.

 

I Need a Vacation from my Vacation

The family and I rented a cabin in Gatlinburg last weekend.  I remember when vacations were relaxing, fun-filled, and I never wanted them to end.  Then we had two kids.  Don’t get me wrong, we had a great time and I wouldn’t have missed it for anything, but let’s just say by the time I got home, I had my fill of family togetherness.

The 3 ½ hour car ride started out with us getting stuck in road construction.  A short while into the drive, the fuse in the A/C adapter on the kid’s DVD player blew.  With no DVD to watch, Olivia started going through the bag that she packed on her own.  The first thing that she found was her harmonica… which she played for the next two hours.  It was cute for about the first 5 or 10 minutes.  The next 110 minutes… not so cute.  Then Amelia chimed in by crying for the last hour through the mountains.

We got to our cabin and unloaded.  The backseat of our car looked like the floor of a recycling center.  Apparently, Olivia had packed her emergency food reserve as well.  There were Reese’s wrappers, juice boxes, loose change, and various components of toys everywhere.  I don’t know how we missed this during the drive, but Olivia managed to eat a Halloween’s worth of candy during the drive.

Loaded up on sugar, we took the girls to a restaurant.  Olivia was like a squirrel after five cups of coffee.  So much for a relaxing dinner.

The next day, we went out to Cade’s Cove.  If you’ve never been there, it is about a 35 mile drive from Gatlinburg (through slow, winding mountain roads) and once you get there, it is an 11-mile one-lane loop.  People drive slower than a tranquilized sloth on this road.  I guess I’ve been in Atlanta too long, but I couldn’t resist tailgating the minivan in front of me that refused to use the turn-outs to let me by.  Twice they stopped in the middle of the road for about 10 minutes to take pictures of deer.  Deer!  Not bears or mountain scenery, deer – the same animals that you see all the time at home.

The next day, we went to Pigeon Forge where we decided to try the Jurassic Boat Ride.  I paid my 40 bucks and we climbed in the “boat” where we were taken on a ride that will induce nightmares for a 4 year old and had enough noise, special effects, and pitch-black darkness to cause a one year old to cry uncontrollably.  When the ride ended (10 minutes later) the parents all looked at each other as if to say, “Well, there’s $40 I’ll never get back.”

After we got home, Olivia kept talking about how much fun she had and how she couldn’t wait for our next vacation.  With all my frustration and impatience, it took a four year old to help me realize that it was all worth it.

 

The Superhero Upstairs

My four year old daughter, Olivia, has been doing some interesting things after we put her to bed at night.  The old routine was for us to take her upstairs, read her one book, say her prayers, give the hugs and kisses, and she would silently drift away.  Not anymore.

In just the past week, I have found her in several interesting situations.  Olivia has had this deal for a few months now where we have to leave her big overhead light on and shut her door when we put her to bed.  I usually go up after an hour or so and find her sound asleep so I open her door and turn out her light.  That hasn’t been the case lately.  She’s been dressing up princess figures until past 11:00, tuning in some sweet jams on her karaoke machine, and playing dress up with her jewelry.

One particular night stands out.  After I walked up the stairs and opened her door I was relieved to find her asleep, but I almost erupted in laughter when I saw her.  She was lying in her bed with a picture of her and her older cousin, Blake, on her lap, adorned with a full complement of necklaces and bracelets, and wearing a cape embroidered with “Princess Olivia”.

I don’t know what motivated this outfit, but I can only imagine that she was dreaming of being a superhero.  Who doesn’t want to be a superhero?  We all pretended to be one when we were kids.  Even adults may watch movies and daydream about what it would be like to be one.  The funny thing is, we daydream about being Superman or Spiderman, yet spend our lives trying to be Clark Kent or Peter Parker.  I omitted Batman because Bruce Wayne would be a significant upgrade for most of us.

Now I realize that as we age, the realities of life begin to erode away at our imaginations as we give in to more “realistic” expectations.  I realize that it may seem more “responsible” to settle for a job with decent benefits and a little security.  I realize that a cape and pair of tights will not enable us to fly, climb buildings, see through walls, or gross $200 million at the box office.  But I also realize that there’s a little girl upstairs who, at least for now, thinks I’m a superhero… and she’s watching.  If I settle for mediocrity – if I limit my existence to the daily routine – she will soon look for a superhero elsewhere.

 

The Way You Make Me Feel

Two lyrical titles in a row… Today’s posting was going to be about how I am weary of the glorification of Michael Jackson, his television media dominance, and the memorial service, which was filled with enough hyperbole to make a geometry teacher giddy, but I realized by posting on this, I would be contributing to the very thing I was complaining about.  So, this is another last minute posting.

 

Instead of focusing on the details of the ceremony, I want to focus on how his death affects you.  That right, how has the death of Michael Jackson impacted your life?  Trust me, I’m going somewhere with this.

 

We spend so much of our lives trying to be important.  Whether it is through career success, education, recognition of our volunteer efforts, or the belief that we possess an inner Hollywood actor/rock star/professional athlete/presidential candidate, many of us aspire to do great things. 

 

But what are great things?

 

In terms of recognition and fame, MJ was right up there at the top.  He had world-wide recognition, amazing talent, and celebrity eccentricity, but is your life any different now that he is gone?  Sure there were thousands of people who showed up to mourn his death but what personal impact did he have on your life?

 

Looking at the other end of the spectrum, there are countless mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, children, and friends who leave this world anonymous to everyone except those who were close to them.  They may not warrant media attention, huge memorial services, or gold-plated caskets, but their passing has a profound impact on the people in their lives.

 

The point I am trying to make is when we focus on our fame, success, or recognition, we shift our attention to a broad spectrum of people who are only superficially affected by us in order to pump up our own ego while ignoring those on whom we can make a lasting impression.  In order to truly do great things, we sometimes have to forgo opportunities for fame and fortune in order to focus on the people in our lives that are truly influenced by our existence.

 

Ten Years and Counting

My ten-year wedding anniversary is fast approaching (June 12).  It’s hard to believe that ten years have passed since we said, “I do.”  In honor of this historic event, I thought I would share a few of our moments with you.

 

Our First Date

Our first date was Valentine’s Day.  Ambitious, I know.  We were both in college at the time, so it wasn’t anything fancy.  I wanted to impress her, so I bought a couple of gifts for our first Valentine’s Day together.  The first thing I picked up was The Titanic soundtrack (which she already had).  That movie was really big at the time, but I wasn’t a big fan.  To this day, I have still not made it through the entire movie.  I blame this film for setting the precedence for several 3+ hour movies that have followed.  Come on, don’t the editors have kids?  The only song I remember from the CD was that Celine Dion tune that seemed to last as long as the movie.  My reasoning for buying it was if I thought it was cheesy and horrific, it must be romantic.

 

Everyone knows that you have to get flowers for Valentine’s Day, so I paid a visit to the local florist.  Early on, I knew Sara was “the one” so I really wanted to impress her.  Couple this with my botanical ignorance at the time, and you end up with a pretty terrible choice.  While all of the other guys were cliché with their roses and chocolates, Sara was the fortunate recipient of… a shrub… an azalea to be exact.  Hey it was big, colorful, and different.  I thought I was a genius.  Once we realized what it was, I planted it near a stream at her apartment.  It died.

 

How I Impressed Her

Let me preface this by saying that Sara is now a very good cook (thank you, Southern Living).  However, in her younger days, her food was… um… not quite as palatable.  It wasn’t from lack of effort; she tried to make lots of things but the results were not always great.  She usually had consistency problems that stemmed from improper measurements (like the time she put 1 cup of soy sauce in a chicken dish instead of 1 tablespoon – my blood pressure still has not returned to normal).

 

One of her goofs actually helped me woo her.  It was our first Halloween.  We carved a jack-o-lantern and roasted pumpkin seeds when Sara decided to make a pumpkin pie.  I assume she had a recipe, but she did not possess good judgment.  I guess she wanted to impress me with an authentic pumpkin pie made from a real pumpkin and not that canned stuff.  What she did not know is that when you use real pumpkin, you use the inner part of the rind.  She used the stringy pumpkin guts.  It was the only pie I’ve ever eaten that you could slurp up like spaghetti noodles.  Despite a consistency more closely resembling a wet wig than a dessert, I ate the entire thing.  That’s when she knew I was a keeper.  She now uses canned pumpkin.

 

Our First Vacation

Not counting our honeymoon, our first vacation was a trip to Grand Teton National Park and Yellowstone.  We literally loaded up our backpacks with a tent, food, and sleeping bags and boarded a plane.  We flew into Jackson, Wyoming and pitched our tent at Lake Jenny in front of the Tetons.  To me, this was paradise.  Sara really liked it too but since we had only been married for a year, I was less sensitive to a woman’s expectations of a vacation.  After a few days of sleeping on the ground, eating canned tamales, pushing Sara through miles of hiking, hearing animals browse around our tent at night, and talking to the ranger about a bear family that was getting friendly with the campers, her patience was waning.  Finally, when a bear actually ripped the backpack off a camper in our campground, she said something like, “I’m staying in cabin.  You can stay with me if you want to.”  For our last vacation, we stayed at a bed and breakfast in St. Croix… I’m learning.

 

Asking for Permission

The weekend of my marriage proposal, I visited her parents.  They had only met me a few times and I was still trying to impress them.  They needed to replace a VCR or something like that and I, being the tech-savvy engineer, volunteered my services.  I don’t know what I did to their TV/VCR/cable box, but we weren’t able to watch TV until they called for backup the next day.  Since I was proposing the next day, I had to ask for permission that night.  Imagine that… the idiot that can’t hook up a VCR asks you for your daughter’s hand in marriage.  Of course they granted permission and seemed happy for us.  I found out why after the wedding day when I took over Sara’s automotive insurance.  She had a driving record that could have made her a felon in some states.

 

The Birth of Our Daughters

Both times, I felt useless and inept.  Both times, I was amazed by her strength and fortitude.  She was amazing.

 

Summertime

With an early Memorial Day this year, the unofficial kickoff for the summer season is practically here.  For most people, summer brings back nostalgic memories of their childhood – cookouts, fishing trips, swimming, camping, ballgames, playing outside all day until the sweat and dirt combined to make a paste that, unfortunately, was unable to repel mosquitoes… yeah, I was a dirty little boy… and stinky.

Some of our best memories occurred during those three months when there was no school, no cold weather, and no Nickelodeon West in HD.  These days, there are a lot of things in a child’s life that compete against the formation of those fond memories that you enjoy.  I-Pods, internet, 16 channels of cartoons 24/7, video games, Facebook, Twitter… the list things that distract kids (and adults) from real life goes on and on.  This is why it is imperative that parents be intentional about providing opportunities for kids to discover the world around them and there is no better time than the summer months to do so. 

I know, easier said than done.  While it may seem impossible to pry your kids away from the TV or computer, I believe that their attraction to these forms of entertainment is a learned behavior.  And to a large extent, it is learned from us.

Which is easier – taking a kid hiking and allowing them to explore the infinite wonders of creation or sitting them in front of SpongeBob while we pay the bills?  I don’t want to sound sanctimonious here because I have been guilty of using the digital babysitter numerous times.  I just want to caution you from using a television, video game, or computer as the default method of keeping your children occupied.

 I’m not a child psychologist, but ever since we became parents, I’ve had the opportunity to closely observe child development every day for the past few years.  Here are just a few things I’ve realized:

• Every child is unique (duh)
• Most children would rather do than observe – “Let me try, let me try!”
• Kids are curious and inquisitive
• A child has more energy than the Tasmanian Devil with a Red Bull intravenous drip
• Children are imaginative and creative

Think about what happens if your child spends too much time in front of the tube (RANDOM STUFF ALERT – Calling a TV “the tube” is really a misnomer because hardly any televisions still have picture tubes – it’s sort of like calling a CD a “record”, using Tivo or a DVR to “tape” a show, or “dialing” a phone number).  Sorry… back to the topic.  When a kid spends too much time watching TV, they are not fostering their unique curiosities and passions.  Rather, they are taught to be interested in whatever the latest market analysis and trends indicate that the majority of kids are interested in.  Additionally, any learning that occurs comes from observation rather than participation, there is no outlet for their boundless energy, and their imagination and creativity are stymied.

I know, you’ve heard all of this before.  Now – keep in mind that the purpose of this blog is to help us find significance in our adult lives.  All of those things that are lacking in a child’s life when they spend too much time watching TV or on the computer are lacking in our lives when we make an unfulfilling career the focus of our time and effort – there is no fostering of our unique curiosities and passions, there is no outlet for our imagination and creativity, and we end up being observers in life rather than participants.

Just as television keeps the kids occupied, maybe your career is simply keeping you occupied.  Perhaps it’s time to get a little sweaty and dirty.  Take some time this summer to explore.  Who knows, you may even enjoy it.

 

I Caught You a Delicious Bass

There are certain memories in a dad’s life that will always be locked away for safe keeping.  I had one of these last week when I took my 3-1/2 year old daughter on her first fishing trip.

 

Outfitted with a Scooby Doo fishing pole and a Mystery Machine tackle box (which was full of bubble-blowing toys), we went to Lake Lanier to seek out my little girl’s inner Bill Dance.    The area we went to consists of a parking area with a cove used for fishing on one side and a sandy beach for the sunbathers/swimmers on the other side.

 

Mom and baby sister went to the beach side while the little angler and I climbed down the bank to fish.  It was about 87 degrees, so I knew that I would not have much time before the fisher would become the fish.  Olivia watched intently as I tied a little jig head onto her line and was excited that she got to pick out the color jig she would use.  Her casting still needs some work, but she can reel in the line like a pro.  Every time her bait came back, she would say, “Hey, I didn’t catch a fish.”

 

Altogether, she probably did 10 or 15 minutes worth of fishing before she decided she wanted to go swimming on the other side.  She spent about an hour and half on the beach side building sand castles, picking up shells, and playing in the water.  Apparently beaches are more appealing than fishing to a 3-1/2 year old.

 

Later that evening, exhausted from the day’s events.  I asked Olivia what her favorite activity was.  Her reply was, “Going fishing with you, daddy.” 

 

Totally worth it.

 

I’m sure you did a lot of things last week.  I bet you completed a lot of tasks that were related to your career, furthered you education, improved your home, or allowed you unwind from the stresses of your life.  How many of you created a memory that will last a lifetime?

 

 

By the way, I have no idea who the kids portraying Napoleon and Pedro in the photo are.

 

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I’m tired of hearing about the crisis of the day, so today’s posting will aim for levity.  My oldest daughter is now 3 and a half.  This is that magical age in which children possess an interesting vocabulary.  Their familiarity with words and attempts to incorporate them into conversation slightly outstrips their understanding of the words, resulting in some hilarious outcomes.  These are all real things Olivia has said recently:

 

We were playing with a toy rocket and I asked her count down for blast off.  She began counting, “One, two, three…”

 

“No,” I said, “count backwards.”

 

She immediately turned her back to me and began, “One, two, three…”

 

 

 

As I was making breakfast, she walked into the kitchen and said, “I love you, daddy.”  Which she immediately followed with, “And I like eggs!”

 

 

 

Olivia has been taking gymnastics for several weeks and always calls it “misternastics”.  We couldn’t figure out where this was coming from until we realized that “gym” sounds like “Jim”, which is a man’s first name, hence “Mr. Nastics”.

 

 

 

Shortly after our second daughter’s birth, we were in the hospital and the baby started crying.  After a few minutes of crying, Olivia said, “Baby sister is hungry.  She needs to eat some boo-boos.”

 

 

One night we were having dinner at a restaurant and our waiter was bald as beach ball.  Every time he came to our table, Olivia asked him, “What happened to your hair?  I’ll help you find it.”

 

 

I’m sure there are countless more, but this is all I can think of for now.  Post some replies if you have some stories of your own.

 

I do own a lot of guns… that helps

A few days ago I was in the basement working out.  My three year old daughter was down there with me because she likes to “exercise” with daddy.  Right in the middle of my last set of incline dumbbell presses my daughter informed me, “Girls like boys… girls kiss boys.”

 

Did I mention she is three years old?!?

 

Obviously such a statement required immediate action on my part.  The first thing I did was remove one of the dumbbells from my chest and the other from my face.  Then I did the sincere fatherly speech thing where I squatted down to her three year old level, looked her square in the eyes, and said, “No sweetie, girls don’t kiss boys.  In fact good little girls punch the mean, nasty boys right in the mouth if they pucker up near them.”

 

I didn’t actually say that, but I would if I had thought of it at the time. 

 

So it begins; my lifelong struggle to attempt to intimidate every boy who gets anywhere near my daughters.  I do own a lot of guns… that helps, but I know it will be difficult.  Both of my girls are blond haired and blue eyed, they have great smiles, and my three old already loves to watch football with me.  About the only thing I have going for me is the fact that she inherited my profuse sweating gene.  Suddenly global warming doesn’t look so bad.