I Forgive you

Stay Together

I watched Sean and Drew interact with one another at school today.  Knowing we have a few short months left of the two being in such close proximity to each other while I can watch so easily (volunteering in the classroom.)  My wife I are trying to pay even closer attention and really remember these times.  


Inevitably the boys do as brothers do, they began to bicker, about what I am not too sure, but Sean pushed Drew.  Drew has a knack for a classic soccer flop and over reacted, but nonetheless Sean did push him.  I stepped in, stopping the boys from escalating and attempting to impart some sense of right and wrong.  I instructed Sean to apologize for what he had done and give his brother a hug, which Sean did without a fight.  Drew immediately attempted to run back to the play yard but I stopped him, the lesson was not complete.  I instructed Drew to say "I forgive you."  Drew hesitated, attempted to flee, but I stopped him and he said "I forgive you Sean".  The lesson of course complete for the children, but about to begin for me.


"Daddy, what does, I forgive you mean"  Drew lobbed my way not knowing the depth of his question, or even scarier knowing exactly how deep the question is.  I paused, my mind racing for an age appropriate response.  I began my obligatory start to answer my kids questions.  "Well Drew, I forgive you means...Well when you aren't sad, (nope that's not right,) when you aren't angry (gah not that either) When you won't remember ( I was stumped.)  "Drew, I forgive you means that you are not going to let someones actions further harm your relationship and you hope that the relationship will be better from here on out."


I know a little too much for a four and a half year old.  But forgiveness is more than just words, in fact words are almost irrelevant.  The words "I forgive you" are the most important and least important aspect the act of forgiveness.  Similarly "I love you" means nothing if you don't mean it, and if you say it almost without question the person knows if you mean it, whether or not you say it, but forgiveness, forgiveness is actually more difficult than love.

That is what I struggled with explaining to Drew.  

To forgive: to grant pardon for or remission of (an offense, debt, etc.);absolve.  That is Dictionary.Com's definition, and it is wonderful, but also reveals how hard forgiveness is.  To absolve one of their actions is a tall order on both parties.  If I suffer the consequences of my actions my debt is paid, but if someone has chosen a higher path, truly the Lords way, I now owe not them but God.  I think that is what is hard, beautiful, and mysterious about forgiveness.  The act of forgiveness brings both parties to closer to God, it makes both parties better people, provides both with an opportunity to grow closer to one another and to God.  

If I choose to not forgive someone, I grow a little apart from them, they may choose to repay me in some form of the inequity, but somethings are not able to be made right with treasure.  A cruel word, an act of betrayle, or cruelty, there is not a great recompense for these things.  I can't payback these wrongs, (it is almost a beauty of forgiveness that money won't buy your way to "good."  No, the wronged person can now be made a little more whole (quite likely not in a complete way immediately)  by opening themselves up to grace in giving forgiveness.  Likewise the perpetrator of wrongdoing can't just throw money at the problem, thus making the rich at an additional advantage in life.  The ability to absolve an act that separates two people, no that is a divine moment.  The person wronged can wait and tell if that person is remorseful and choose to bring the relationship back to whole by the act of forgiving, or in a far more Christ like fashion the person can without regard for remorse can choose to forgive, and not  allow the acts to further rupture the relationship.

The last curious thing I found thinking about as the boys ran off was the beginning of it all, "I'm sorry."  That started it all again, much like "I Love you" and "I forgive you"  these words only work when meant, so much to the point that people struggle mightily saying them and without them forgiveness is next to impossible, for seeking forgiveness implies that a wrong has been done that needs to be pardoned, you have no need to be forgiven if you are not sorry, and if you aren't really sorry, forgiveness is next to meaningless for you are still estranged in your heart if sorrow has not entered it.  What is incredible is when someone forgives without an apology and means it, it shows the true ability to love in the person forgiving.

What does "I forgive you" mean?  It means "I choose us, over me."  I wish I thought of that when Drew and Sean were standing there.

The Mirror

I hope Sean rises above me

I had a friend at an old work place many years ago who told me a great story about swearing.  I'll give you a bit of a set up.  I use colorful language a good deal.  Now I don't use it in front of my kids, or my wife really, and in many situations at work I would never use it, but around my co-workers or buddies I let more than my fair share of four letter words fly.  I worked with a guy (I wish I remembered his name) who noticed this about me and said something like...

"You know Andy, you are an intelligent and quite articulate person, but for whatever reason you seem to use a lot of vulgar language, why?"  I stood sorta quiet and responded "Well, I guess I don't want to limit the vocabulary I use to express myself and don't feel that all words capture the same meaning as some of my more colorful language"

This of course is only half true, there are far more colorful language than your typical swear words, and when used with the right panache are vastly superior than the pedestrian language I claim to have impact.  Now this guy, we will call him Peter, was in his mid to late 50s and at the time would have been my Dad's age, he had been married for about 30 years and was really a great guy as I recall.  All that said he continued with a great story.

"Well, when I was young I went to Vietnam and it changed how I spoke.  I would insert "Fuck" into every other word, and it became the only way I seemed to express myself, I was very angry.  Well I finally got to come home after being shot and that is when I met my wife.  We started dating and it was great, but my limited vocabulary I employed started to catch up to me, and the ugly language I used seemed to bother her.  So my now wife, then girlfriend, began to start using the same language.  She was cursing as much if not more than me, and it sounded terrible.  I could finally hear what I sounded like, and I didn't like it at all.  It wasn't long before I stopped using that language."

This story was told to me about 10 years to early.  At the time I was 20 or 21, didn't have kids, and my girlfriend at the time was the same age, and I can't recall if I cursed as much, but I most likely did.  It took being married before I decided to attempt to curb my language.  That notion of a "mirror" showing you your actions though was rather profound to me.

As I have began "raising" my kids things I do become now far more apparent.  Phrases my wife and I use can come back to haunt us.  It is funny that having kids would make me more self-aware, but it really has.  Whether it is Legos, comic books, or the kids love of back scratches like their mom.  Our kids have begun mirroring many things that my wife and I are.  All of the sudden me being inconsiderate, or a smart ass has taken on a new meaning to me.  Those are not traits I want my children to have, and that means I can't have them either.

It's curious how raising a child to be the person you hope they can be, requires you to be the person you should be.

A Bitter Finish

As I sat in the cool pool watching the heat pelt our house I was happy.  My oldest, Drew was jumping in and swimming after his swim lesson, Sean sat on the step, splashing and enjoying himself, and lastly Eva bobbled up and down in the "boat" with me next to her.  We had all just finished cold Otter Pops and as far as perfect afternoons go this was as close as it could get...

My wife walked in the pool area and it was as if a switch was hit, Sean started an epic breakdown. As far as phases go, our current three year old terror has tried mine and Cristina's patience beyond anything I remember from Drew.  Sean can cry, scream, whine and I think scratch a chalk board all at the same time.  Unfortunately this rarely means he sleeps like a rock that night either.  As we exited the pool our house was filled with the serenade of Sean making his displeasure known...for a solid hour.  Even as I made a wonderful dinner alone (that I had hoped to do with the boys) in the kitchen, and my wife fed the kids and put them to bed, I couldn't relax.  As perfect as the afternoon was, and it was just about as smooth as one parent and 3 kids under 5 could wish for, I was wound as tight as ever and the only after taste left for the day wasn't even the wonderful Pasta, but rather an hour of screaming for my boy.

It seemed unfair to me, almost as if everything that had happened in the day was irrelevant because this happened.  As I don't know much about wine I can only imagine it would be like taking a sip, the fragrence is breath taking, the flavor perfectly balances on your pallet, but then the aftertaste peaks with an acidic punch, up till that last moment it was on the money.  This made me think even more about this, a mediocre to even bad movie can almost save it's self with a top notch ending, books the same way.  Dinner can be bombed but if you hit it out of the park with a decadent dessert you only remember the sweet, creamy ending, and the dinner can be forgiven.  I kept coming up with more and more examples of how the ending is so valued over the begginning and middle it just seemed unfair.

No matter how hard I work as a parent there are days when my kids are driving me up a wall, on my last nerve, but minutes before they sleep one of them will hug me, cuddle with me and be as perfect a child as I could hope for, and the previous day seems to melt away, unfortunately I have yet to figure out how to make the opposite not ruin my day.  

Perhaps I can figure out how to build my days into chapters, and while the every chapter can't be perfect, I can focus on a solid ending for each one, even if the whole chapter is miserable I can still knock it out of the park with a last moment of affection; And the inverse would be true as well, the moment things turn sideways I begin a new chapter and focus on turning this conflict into an opportunity to overcome and have a brilliant ending.  That could perhaps fix my quandary, if only I could figure out how to master that split second switch and starting a new chapter on the fly.

Overcoming Fear

As a child I had a very healthy fear of a lot of things, mostly based on avoiding getting hurt.  My oldest brother was fearless it seemed and his pain tolerance seemed higher than normal.

I can remember turning off the lights and jumping into bed, I didn't much like the dark.  Fear is a good thing though, in my job I learn to trust my instincts and operate under the mantra that I am not fearless, I act in spite of fear.  My son's each have their own individual things that they don't like. Drew doesn't like a dark  bedroom, Sean doesn't like dogs.  Nothing over the top and by all accounts "normal."

 At what point do you work on teaching them to "overcome" their fear and should you ever do that, or just let them do it their own way.

My boys are curious when we are at Disneyland.  Seemingly tame rides are unappealing, and other rides are so exciting they can't help but what to go on it, regardless of the perceived "scary factor."  Yet if my wife or I push at all, we draw a stoney visage that is unmoving.  Fear is not overcome with pressure, or prodding much like a chinese finger-trap isn't defeated with force.

Ultimately excitement seems to win, the desire to see what fun things must be happening overcomes a gentle push in almost all attempts to persuade my boys to try something new or scary.  Drew, and a bit of Sean are more interested in "deciding" on their own.  I wish I could put my finger on the switch. Knowing my boys will get a lot out of something but watching them be unwilling to try because they are afraid is challenging for me.  There at times, a week at the beach, when we have time to allow their own process to occur, but not everything we do is that way; For example in october of 2008 we took drew to a petting zoo pumpkin patch.  He wanted more than anything to ride a pony, and so we went for it.  He was onboard right up until he sat on the pony, and then there was no having it, if mom and dad weren't holding him he wanted no part of it.  I knew once that horse moved he would be on board, but unless he stopped crying they weren't moving.  We didn't have hours to work through this, and ultimately he didn't ride the pony.  I was a bit sad because he would have really enjoyed that time once he realized it was going to be fun, but he didn't get to get there on his terms.

Months later we had that successful pony ride, and dad was at his side.  Shows what I know, he wanted the fun, but scary time to be with someone he knew would keep him safe.

 As an adult where my job causes me to do the uncomfortable and things people would rather not think about, fear isn't something I equate to stopping action.  I am the type who just jumps in the pool without thinking man it's going to be cold, because I know I will just get used to the water and have a blast.  But that is the way I do things and seeing my kids at times miss out on fun adventures can be really hard for me, but ultimately if you are terrified is it that fun? 

While I can't fully understand their fear of certain things, Drew will not go on Peter Pan at Disneyland, I know that it can't be all that bad that they want to overcome their fears holding my hand, soon enough they will be asking me to wait outside the ride while they go on alone.

Welcome to the World

I wrote this a few months back and never finished it.  After reading it tonight I put the last few touches on the post, this was written the night before my 30th birthday...

There is nothing profound about birthdays that I could possibly put to paper (or a screen) that hasn't been said.  Whether it is a mid life crisis, a quarter life crisis, or just plain old, birthdays have an incredible ability to cause one to exam the past and contemplate the future; but it seems to me that, your past may as well be laying tracks for your future.

If we stay with that analogy of our life as a freight train it is surprising how it all starts.

Welcome to the World.  You are a simple train and you start moving.  Your family hitches up with you but really only as the engine, pulling you along, and at some point between 17 and 25 or so their train leaves the track and you are a full fledged engine yourself.  At that precise moment the world is your oyster, and thinking about that it is pretty remarkable.  There is not place your train "can't" go, and there is no track that you can't get to eventually.  But, within a few seconds of you being on your way you start closing certain tracks, even if you don't see them.

Now if you are lucky you were given a compass by your family, or you found one on your way.  For many this compass is God, but not everyone.  Some discover their own compass, faith, spirituality, mediation, or just a simple moral compass they adopt as their own.  We don't all find or receive a compass early in life, but many do.  I was lucky and was blessed by my mother around 14 or 15 to really attach myself to my faith, this guidance in my life is nothing short of a blessing.

I chose  to invest in myself with my college degree.  College was a track closer believe it or not.  I chose to start closing many tracks that basically involved math.  Honestly in some ways I regret that.  I struggled in math towards the end of high school, but looking at it now I think I was more interested in other things, and didn't realize why I would pursue math.  Even now, I wonder "what if" a tiny bit, but never enough to consider the monumental effort it would take to turn my train around and try and figure out if those tracks were never laid or I just chose to turn away.  I majored in Film, a recent love that I only saw as a 16 or 17 year old.  I didn't have some life long obsession with movies like many of my class mates.  I mostly had an fascination with people, and film enabled me to really explore that aspect of my life.  I fell in love, joined a fraternity and jumped head first in to college to graduate with a degree that was limitless with potential based on patience and ability to be poor.  I have never really been good at either and took the safe job, "my first offer."

This was not bad, but I closed a major track.  I chose to use money my dad had said he would give me to see Europe for a down payment on a car. See I didn't just go to Europe after graduation....I should have, no I played it safe and started looking for work from day one.  I regret this choice, mainly because I could have purchased a car anytime, and in 2003 the economy was sailing so I don't even think a job would have been impossible to come by, but the time for Europe won't come again for me for many more years.  And even with these tracks turned away from I can't help but to look back 7 years and know that if I would have done all that...I never would have met my wife.  I would have been in Europe instead of sitting at a poker party and talking, and we'd likely never have met.  I ended up getting to ride on some of the tracks I turned away from in 2003, in 2006 my wife and I did Southern and Northern Ireland, much like I would have done as a recent college grad.  Even with my turning away from those tracks I got to ride at least a small portion of the tracks, but this time with the woman I love on our anniversary while she carried our child, a truly profound experience.

I wonder now, as a parent with three small children if I have closed any tracks for my children, I truly hope not, but I know I must have.  I have yet to really invest in my kids language.  They speak English, but I have done next to nothing to insure they will speak any additional languages which is a huge advantage in life.  I am introducing my children to my faith which has led me to truth in my life, but they may never see a world view different than what I have introduce them to.  I don't want to think what if with my children, but that is something that seems inevitable as a parent, I just hope I don't miss the important tracks for my kids and they are able to accomplish what they dream about as a child.

It's sort of funny how I really don't think about my track near at all anymore compared to what I think about with my kids...I feel like I have chosen my path and just hope that I don't choose my kids but give them the tools to find where they hope to go.

The Love of Affection

I used to think I would out grow my desire to receive praise.  As a child, teen and young adult I would regularly want to talk with my parents, more specifically my dad, about my enterprises, classes, grades (when they were good) and even my job.  To hear my dad tell me that he was proud of me lifted my spirits, and even now I can flash back to moments of accomplishment and the feeling I had when my father told me how proud he was of me.  That motivates me to want to work even harder, do better and accomplish more.  

You'd figure I would out grow this desire, but in reality it hasn't.  As a man now I'd be lying if I didn't want to hear from my dad say that he is proud of me, and though I talk with him regularly, it isn't the same as when you can see it from someone's eyes.  

Having young kids when you come home from work, or in my case when I wake up after work, run to you and say they love you is a truly remarkable feeling.  Recently my daughter who is just over a year will lunge, if she is being held, with all her might to me and try and have me hold her.  My boy's will ask about my work and to be honest I love when they are impressed with my day.  I can't imagine that many people my age feel this way...who knows, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy that my boys love what I do and express pride in their dad.  

Drew has started showing signs of this as well, reminding us of his good behavior, pointing out things he excels in, and even seeking acknowledgement for doing what he is supposed to do.  Seeing this from a four year old reminds me a lot of how I act even now as an adult.  Perhaps this is not unique to me per se, though I still feel that I seem to want positive affirmation more than most.  

See I think this is where we may get things wrong as a whole.  You often hear people joke, well maybe he wasn't hugged enough as a kid.  If even as an adult, married with kids affirmation and acknowledgement is a priority for me, why is that bad.  Isn't "great job" free?  I'm not saying throw a party, but a shoulder squeeze and an "atta boy" seems simple, but has the potential to really fuel a person to grow and excel.  

I think I have even fallen into the trap of trying to budget my expression of pride, and there is no good reason.  I can tell the impact it makes when I do it, this is something I know will make an impression on my kids for years to come.  If self confidence is a trait I seek to instill in my children, I think it clearly starts with providing an abundance of affection, that is something I can do and I understand.

Milestones

Being a parent has filled me with tremendous pride.  Watching my small babies, grow into toddlers, and young kids is a joy to watch.  With each passing milestone I am of course proud and want to impart this on my kids.  I am a firm believer that showing your children how proud of them you are helps create healthy kids.  That is the exact thing that has recently made me have to come up with creative ways to impart this on each of my 3 kids.

As my 4 year old recently was cast into a commercial, my wife and I were ecstatic that he would have a great start to a college/small business fund.  Drew had a blast and I am sure that my other two children had to notice how excited we were for him.  Not wanting to make the others feel left out we tried hard to insure them that we thought they were special and spend some quality time with both Sean and Eva.

Not even a few weeks later my wife and I started potty training our 2.5 year old.  Sean was a different experience than Drew, but sure enough 3 days in we were over the moon to see that Sean was really picking up on it.  To start, Drew was just as excited as us and "helped" my wife and I with Sean, but just like with Drew a few weeks prior, I am sure that Eva and Drew were taking notice of all the attention Sean was getting.  Soon Drew was announcing his successful escapades in the bathroom and seeking the same praise.

Eva for her part is at a stage of life where hitting milestones comes a tad bit more frequently.  The boys are far more used to this, and seem to celebrate the joy of watching a young sibling grow.  I think given her age and the fact that she is a girl and they are boys, the competition hasn't quite set in.

My wife and I have spent a lot of energy trying to teach our children the importance of working together and celebrating each person's accomplishments.  We have expressed that no matter how often, we will be excited and proud of our kids endlessly as they grow, that praise for one will not mean less praise for them later. The fact that we all accomplish things our own way and in our own time is a far harder lesson to teach to young children.

Milestones with one child is a no brainer, with only one child's feelings to think about and praise, the worry that another child would feel slighted is non-existent, but it was a surprise to me to realize that mutual sharing in joy is not just a concept that adults can struggle with but kids as young as 2 struggle with as well.  Hopefully I can impart this lesson on my kids and they will understand there parents have an endless amount of praise to give to our children, love is not a limited commodity we give out.

Parental Scale

My wife and I just went away for the weekend.  She had a work conference near Disneyland and we got a nice hotel room in close proximity of the magic kingdom.  We have been going together now for years and it has always been a wonderful trip.

Before we had kids we'd sneak away for great dates and a nice time out with some mutual friends.  After we had our first I'd stay back while Cristina went to her conference.  Even with the addition of another child we would make it year after year.  Last year after our third had been born once again we went, my wife with the infant in tow.

This year I flew solo with all three while my wife went and enjoyed some wonderful conferences; and this year it was a challenge.  At home all three kids is not nearly as trying.  We have multiple rooms, safe areas I can let them play alone, all sorts of toys, shows, activities and "baby free" areas for my boys to play.  But away from home we have limited space, toys, and resources with which to keep the kids occupied.  The weather this year was abysmal, so my fail safe last year of hanging by the pool was a no go.  So like a ship without a rudder, I attempted to wing it.  On Friday we played at Disney, but the crowds deterred me and I went back to the hotel.  Saturday, my grand plan of the pool was crushed with frigid temps and I lacked the ability to effectively call an audible.  So the laws of scaling difficulty came into play.  Slowly my crying daughter ate away at my patience, and when I finally got her asleep, my boys who were not giving me any sort of legitimate problems began to wrangle my last nerve.

Just like that I was losing it with them.  I had the patience for a crying kid for a long while, and when I endured that "test" a newer far simpler test presented itself, but my parental endurance was exhausted.  As my family has scaled in size, unfortunately not everything has scaled for me.  I am not 3 times more patient, and I don't have 3 times the energy.  Fortunately for my wife and I the rules of scale have benefited us as well.  Our kids do entertain themselves, and food prep isn't any more difficult, though feeding 3 kids who need constant attention is a chore unto it's self.  Ultimately I always thought that I could ignore whining and crying and it wouldn't rile my nerves, but I never planned on how little sleep I would get (or the poor quality of sleep), and how that truly effects my ability to effectively parent.  I also never planned on three kids waring on my nerves at the same time. I am going to need help when my kids coordinate their moves and don't have happy/unhappy accidental Dad overload moments, but rather a meltdown of their planning.

Going to Bed

Lying down. Closing my eyes. Sleeping.  In my now 5.5 years of marriage, 4 years have been sleep deprived, and yet I still function at a above average level, most of the time.  The people who receive my less than patient attitude is my family, which is sad.  I remember as a kid my mom yelling at me, and I seemed to inspire a special fury sometimes, but if that phone rang I remember my mom answering in the sweetest tone, a tone that made me long to be playing outside.

It seems that no matter the era, or place, in the end the ones we love seem to get our patience when it runs dry.  Lately it's my boys, and to be honest it has little to do with what they do. They are real young so to find fault with much of what they do seems unfair at best.  My oldest has a vivid imagination, and my younger boy has received that same gift, for whatever reason, likely age, my older boy must see a world that energizes him at night.  Either it is thoughts of what is happening, or what will happen when he sleeps, it is a struggle one night, and the next he is asleep before I have finished five pages from the book we are reading.  Some nights my slightly chillier visage is acceptable, heck even invited, and others only the warmth a mother brings will satisfy his racing mind.

I don't think kids realize that their behavior can actually pierce us as much as it does, I am truly saddened when my son yells that he doesn't want me to read, but wants mommy instead.  The sad part is I should play it more like the cat theory with him, ignore him and he will want me more, but it is hard when you feel slighted. While I know it isn't meant as a dagger, that knowledge doesn't lessen the pangs.

Being a parent seems like an exercise in memory, do you remember how you felt at that age when...Unfortunately I usually remember only after I do they thing I hated as a kid to my own children.  I seem to forget it makes zero sense to yell when I hope to calm a situation, much like it is pointless to slap a kid's hand and say "no hitting."  But that patience things hits me, and my kid memory doesn't kick in, and all of the sudden I am trying to yell at my son to stay in bed and "GO TO SLEEP..." yeah I'm sure he's relaxed to go to sleep then.

The dread two young children must feel for bed time approaching must be profound in their eyes.  Compared to the utter delight that comes over me as I lie down for the evening couldn't be more apropos. The thought of completing a day successfully brings a content quality to me, and to my young children, the thought of a day ending is missed opportunities, perhaps I'm the one doing it wrong.

 

The Library

Creating memories can be as simple as a walk on the pier at sunset, to a trip to Ireland in the Summer.  Memories are like everything else in life; there is no limit on the amount you can spend, but the price tag doesn't make it more or less memorable.

My time with my children though profoundly long one day, can be profoundly short when you look back at it.  My son is about to turn four, and I can remember like yesterday his birth; it is scary to think how soon he will be going to college.  Yet the harder I try to think of things to do with my children in order to create another family moment the harder it is.  It is sort of like falling in love, if you are looking for it, the harder it hides.  

Even with events like Disneyland or a Dodger game, the downside to going there a lot minimizes the impact and it becomes just like everything else...normal.  That is to say it is not like normal is wrong, or even bad, but having keepsake moments with your children and wife shouldn't always feel pedestrian.  I find I can got caught in the trap though of trying to hard, swinging for the fences and looking past ideas I may have, because they are mundane.  

As a young child, maybe eight years old, I had one of my fondest childhood memories of family.  It wasn't Disneyland, or the circus, or even a Laker game, though all those memories are great, it was playing cards.  I "shot the moon" for the first time in a game of Hearts with my family, my dad gave me twenty dollars (a family tradition for the first time you shoot the moon), and the very next hand I said I was doing it again, and he bet me another twenty dollars I couldn't.  Bam! I shot it again.  Now obviously forty dollars to a young child is an extra-ordinary moment in life, but it all started with a simple game of cards, and until I busted my dad, a free game of cards.  We played cards a lot as a family, but this unique moment in my life stands out for good reason, and my parents never set out that Saturday afternoon to do anything particularly profound, just spend some time together.

I awoke from a long day at work the night before, I work nights, around 1:30 in the afternoon, my boys were playing and my daughter was sleeping.  I showered and ate and took my boys to the library.  We had some books that were due soon, and I figured they could use a change anyways.  We spent an hour there just grabbing any book that spoke to their fancy, it was like toy shopping without having to pay.  We got home and read books outside on a blanket just a quiet afternoon as a family.

My wife and I are hitting a new renaissance with all our children, reading is becoming such a wonderful bonding experience.  The last few nights I haven't had to work I have sat in my son's bed and my wife in our younger son's bed, and I read a chapter book out loud.  Sean isn't as interested yet, but he's very young, he sings and cuddles and talks with my wife as I read another chapter.  Drew even fell asleep as I was reading; this was a truly special fatherhood memory for me. 

Three weeks ago when initially went to the library I never thought the simple task of checking out books to read could possible bless me with such a special time with my boys.  Tonight I learned a lot about being a dad; the simple moments can have some of the greatest rewards.

Cardboard

The old parenting joke about kids and Christmas is that when you have a baby, 3-12 months or so, they really only like the wrapping paper and boxes, the toys are just mildly interesting.

I think it is odd how we forget certain things about raising children as our kids get older.  I sometimes go days or even a week without sitting down to read to my kids, but never did that when Drew was younger.  I turn to the TV more and encourage creative play less, though I am confident that this has more to do with my energy level reducing as I have more kids and I need a break.  I even just want to do nothing outside and hope that my kids will entertain themselves outside and not make me "work" with them.  By no means is this common, going back to an old post the 80/20 rule I think mostly applies, but parenting has a funny way of breaking you down one minute, and building you up the next.

My wife in one of her many moments of brilliance took the kids outside on a gorgeous day, the result was an imaginative play jackpot.  A cardboard box, duct tape and a pair of scissors and Drew became a knight, the real funny part is that Sean wasn't really interested in his own sword and shield.

Drew is four and his propensity towards the imaginative is life giving to me.  Both he and his brother regularly make up stories and pretend play, dress up, run after made up bad guys, and are capable of playing in a world that is as fantastic as they wish.  I like to think there was a time I did just that, and if my memory of childhood serves I did have some epic Lego and army men battles.  As a parent I like to join them in that world, and regularly make believe with them I am a giant, or a super hero, or even just the "police man" and they pretend to be the super heroes bringing me the bad guys.

Lately though I've been back to work, and working a lot, and my desire to do anything is short lived as I am off to work (night shift) and when I get home I sleep till mid afternoon.  But I managed hit the jackpot, again, outside with my son the other day.  Drew asked for some armor and a helmet to compliment his sword and shield he made.  He grabbed a box and the tape, and I managed to find some scissors, 20 minutes later we were able to sit down and make his helmet and armor to go with his sword and shield.  He was so proud of his new found armor, and I was as proud as ever since I have a boy who will dive head first into his imagination to entertain himself.

My Knight.

As a parent in a consumerist society it is too easy at times to fool yourself into thinking that children have changed.  When more than likely it is not the kids who changed at all, but rather us.  We can't imagine a time without certain things, but our children are only exposed to things, early on, that we expose them to. Even as they grow we are still the major gate keeper to much of their influences.  While now you can purchase compressed foam Nerf shields and swords, I don't think Drew would have had more fun than we did the other afternoon.  If anything he would have used far less of his brain in that play time; and I wouldn't have that moment with Drew.  It sort of goes back to my thoughts I have had over and over that my kids don't care about many "things" deep down, but more likely they want time and interaction with me and my wife instead. Unfortunately I manage to get sucked into the "thing" parenting instead of the "time" parenting.  I fall into trying to give items to my kids, and they would have been just as happy with a cardboard cutout and a half hour with me.

The Bulb Syringe

I am a lousy sick person, I mope do very little that would actually make me feel better and ultimately I think I just complain.  I am relatively lucky since I rarely get sick like that.  To date my own children have remained basically normal kids who get sick only every so often and fortunately not too severely.

Sean, my middle child, recently came down with a flu, and then the cold to end all colds.  He is miserable, and when he was running a fever refused to take any medicine; he is now big enough that he can effectively stage a protest.  I don't remember many "liquid" medicines when I was a child but the few I do remember were either basically sugar, or heinous, and I didn't much like any of them.  I did get St. Josephs chew-able aspirin which was great, and I never minded taking that.  As if his flu was not enough he has a stuffed up nose.

Now I am not too sure when a child "learns" to blow their nose, but for whatever reason Sean isn't to into the nose blowing exercise.  This is not a problem 99 times out of a 100 if your nose actually runs, but when his congestion recently got so bad that he would wake up 5 or 6 times a night it was a big problem.   My wife and I got to earn the title "parent."  Which should actually mean we do mean stuff to our kids so they hate us but it is the right thing to do; which is a rather crappy job.  I went to the baby box and pulled out the bulb syringe to clear up his nose, and man I felt like a terrible person.  I finished clearing up his nose and he shrieked in protest "Why? Why?" in a tone not heard since the tragic Nancy Kerrigan attack, and proceeded to break our hearts.

When all was said and done we had nose that was significantly less stuffed up and a child sobbing on Mama's shoulder who wanted no part of Daddy...awesome.  So for two days I got to do this 3 times a night and have my toddler hate me.

A week or so later things are better, he is healthy, Drew is sick, but thank God he can blow his nose.  The nose clearing made a mark with Sean though.  I went to wipe his nose yesterday and he was fine with it but stated he didn't want his nose "cleaned."  We even caught him a few times trying to hide the bulb syringe.

On the list of parenting things you have to do that are unpleasant at best I am sure this will end up falling pretty low, but it no less made a distinct impression on my duties as a parent.  This will go down as a great metaphor for who knows how many years for me; Being a parent is fun bonding moments mixed with righteous heartbreak.

The Advent Calendar

I wish I woke up with the singular splendor of wanting to open a piece of an advent calendar.  My boys are enraptured with the fun of opening the door of our Lego advent calendar.  Our morning begins at 6:30 to my boys running our bedroom, proud of sleeping till the proper time and proceed to ask me to get out of bed to open the door of the current day on the advent calendar.  Inside is a small trinket, a minifigure, or a small model.  nothing extravagant, or over the top.  If I am on my parenting "A" game I can usually facilitate peace as one of the boys build the model and the other watches, and if I am real good, they don't fight over playing with it till after I have had a cup of coffee.

I don't know when that goes away.

I knew a guy in college, let's call him George, George never seemed to make plans.  George always managed to have plans mind you, but he never committed.  After a while I decided Geroge wanted to know what was better out there, so as to not commit in case a better deal came.  I think George was an extreme case of what happens as we grow up, but George did what we most of us eventually do, and I think what most of us do to others.  We seem to decide that you can't get too up for something, enjoy a sandwich too much, or dinner, or a day at the park.  If you seem to have too much enthusiasm it scares people.  People become George to some degree.

I try very hard to be a happy person, respond with a positive perspective, and walk with a little joy in my life.  But I hear from people after I respond with a resounding "Doing great!", "Woah try a little less coffee in the morning there."  As if I there isn't anything to be that happy about.  That "child" innocence becomes taboo when you age, and you really don't have to be an adult to have it happen, plenty of kids will start the attitude against happiness long before they pay rent and bills.

I guess Geroge sneaks up on us, a little bit at a time; or maybe it is just consumerism.  Right now my son loves to open any toy given to him as a present, regardless of size.  At the optometrist's the other day my son was incredible for the doctor, and she was so impressed with his poise she said he could pick two toys from the toy drawer.  His face lit up and I don't think he could have been any more elated.  It didn't matter that they were small simple toys, he didn't exam the quality or the brand.  He just saw new toys he didn't have and they were great; great because he got to play with something new.  Play with them he did too, with all his imagination and inventiveness he could.  I loved to watch him light up and think of things to do with the ball and car.  At some point though we as people will start to say to each other, "Dude, it's just a cheap ball and car, it's nothing to get excited about."

Thankfully we as a society have decided that children should not be subjected to this cruel plight, but kids pick up on it eventually and soon enough another's happiness doesn't matter and it is "okay" to minimize someones simple pleasures.

I think it is just that too, enjoying simple pleasures.  Kids have an innate ability to jump whole heartedly into life's opportunities.  That is refreshing.  I know many friends who move away from Southern California who crave an In N Out Hamburger more than anything upon their return.  If you watch them take their first bite, close there eyes and really enjoy that moment of satisfaction they become a kid, up until some sarcastic "older" person says "It's just a burger."  It is almost as if we lose the right to really enjoy things, because when someone does I think it makes the rest of us jealous that we don't have the same passion for life's moments that they do, so it's better to bring them back to our status quo.

I don't know when that pizazz for life's individual moments fade, and I really hope I am not the one to put out my children's unabashed zest for simple pleasures...I wish I could stop anyone from taking that away from them.

Dodger Pride (A Short Story)

As I have written about in other posts, going to Dodger games is a family tradition for us.  A few nights ago we took the boys to a "action figure night."  Which means they turn one of the outfielders into an action figure.  My kids adore all things heroic and to get a baseball player and an action figure in one, well that is one step short of "ohmygoshmyheadisgoingtoexplode" great for them.

Sean with his "super heroes"

"I have to go potty." Drew said with a little urgency in his voice.  This used to be the cue for; run like hell he is about to pee.  Drew is now as a very capably 3 1/2 year old, so it generally means, lets get moving, but you don't have to run.  I got up, picked up Drew and put him over a the row behind us, seat etiquette is big for us can't walk down the row mid-inning, and started the walk to the bathroom.

Once we got to the top of the steps Drew turned and reached his arms up (the universal parent please pick me up motion.)  I picked up Drew and he looked at me and with a twinge of excitement said "Let's run Daddy"  So I hunched over a bit and started the old school potty sprint to the bathroom.

We got into the bathroom and what is wonderful about the gorgeous Chavez Ravine is the fact that it has troughs for the men's urinals.  I usually avoid the trough and take Drew to the single urinal, as my son has no issues touching all things in the rest room and I have a bit more control with the single urinal.  But today he couldn't help but have to try the giant stainless steel trough.

Drew did great and once again had a successful potty experience, and since I was there I decided now was as good a time as any to go as well.  Once I finished I picked Drew back up, and with a look of pure sweetness Drew looked me in the eye and said "Daddy you did a great job with the potty, I am so proud of you"

Final Score Dodgers 2 - Mets 0 and one proud 3 year old

Firestone Double Barrel Ale

Tonight was a treat, we took the kids to a Dodger game which was also a kids toy give-away game. We were fortunate to be able to let our baby daughter sleep at Nana's house while we took the two older boys. This all sounds far more "perfect" than it was. But as with most things in life I can hope for the perfect event, but it likely won't go according to plan.

My kids were on my last nerve today, and tried as I might I likely fell into the burden of parenting 20% category today. I couldn't win, and didn't have the patience to really effectively facilitate my boys playing, or even getting the playroom clean. I was done long before we were supposed to be in a car for Dodger Stadium. I even made the cardinal sin of threatening something I wasn't going to do, I told Drew if he didn't shape up he was staying home with me and Sean would go and get his toy with Mommy. It is a reasonable request, but as Cristina pointed out we never went out and got tickets so that we wouldn't go to the games as a family, we got them for us to be together.  To this day some of my fondest memories of time with my siblings were going to Lakers and Kings games with my dad.

We came up with a good consequence we could follow through with, no toy at the game if you don't act appropriately, and even that was moot, he was asleep within a good 30 seconds into the car ride and a total pleasure to be with at the game.

As we sat at the game, the boys with their new toys, and I with a great firestone beer and a pretzel; my wife and I had a brief moment between innings. I joked, I'm going to write about how regardless of my attempts at being a good dad sometimes my kids are just going to be brats. My wife, far more eloquently put it this way, we gave our kids something tonight, family time at the game. Years from now these memories will be carried with all of us.

Drew with his toys

Going to the game is about a lot more than just hot dogs and action figures, it is our family doing something together, being a family and relaxing. In the end I would have let the "brat" moment trump a future wonderful memory if I would have stayed home, put Drew to bed and watched TV. I may have made a point to him in the future about "temper-tantrums," but would I really? I mean stopping a 3 year old from having a rough day and crying and throwing a fit for no reason is like trying to teach a dog to stop eating food off the floor, who are you kidding you can't "reason" with 3 year old. I would have lost twice today, a bad day and a bummer of a night, the memory of the game wouldn't exist, and I'd be bitter right now.

 In some ways I feel like I have to justify my parenting, "I'm not placating temper-tantrums by giving in." But ultimately I don't think that issue was raised at all, Drew had a bad day he didn't "want" anything, and Sean, well I think Sean sees Drew throw a fit and he likes to see how mad he can make Drew because Sean thinks it is funny.

My wife and I have constantly striven to create a family that doesn't just wait for life to happen, we go out and get it, we go places, see friends, and host parties.  We are definitely doers, but when all is said in done I never want to look back on any aspect of parenting, or marriage and say, man I wish we would have done "that" as a family.

In the end I think the family won one tonight...as did the Dodgers 3-2 over the Cubs.

Life over a cup of Firestone Double Barrel Ale

My Morning Cup #2

My morning started as almost all my mornings do.  Me groggy, going to the kitchen for breakfast.  Drew heard me as I was getting the coffee ready and asked for breakfast.  I poured him a bowl of Mini-Wheats and he asked me to sit next to him.

Normally I just continue with whatever I am doing in the kitchen and chat with him while he eats, but today I sat down and ate my cereal next to Drew.  Cristina was getting ready to take our youngest to school and my baby and Sean were still asleep.  I had a quiet morning cup of coffee and cereal with Drew.  We talked about his dreams from the night before, "I dreamed about the Six," which is what his clock has to say in order to get out of bed, the fun day he had yesterday in the pool, and his desire to play games.  All in all this was not an extra ordinary conversation, or breakfast for that matter, but I found it to be all the more reason it was special.  I've reflected on not "sluffing off" when my kids reach out to me in my last post, and this last morning I saw this as a chance.  I could have easily said no, finished dishes, or read some internet article, but I sat and had a conversation with my son.

Normally after breakfast it is usually "Sesame Street" time, but we spent the rest of my morning home doing what he loves, books and games.  I let him pick out a board games and I picked one.  We went into the play room and "played" our games.  He was so curious, and into our time together, it reminded me of advice I was given and have since given, "Kids don't want things, they just want you."  After 25 minutes of Robo Rally and Blokus I picked up "Danny and the Dinosaur" and read to him on the couch.

Drew loves picking new games to play

I didn't do anything special this morning, I didn't clean as much as I hoped I could, but the feeling I took with me to work was simply perfect, and a memory I'll hold.  I don't know how long Drew or Sean or even Eva will really want to hang out with me like that, but I do know I'll always want those opportunities when they are gone, and I should take them now.

I felt great this morning, I didn't use my parent crutch of the TV and zombie-ize my kid to get things done, and though my kitchen looks worse for it (as you can see in my title picture), I'm sure my kids will ignore me soon enough after breakfast and I'll have a better opportunity to clean my kitchen.

Life of a cup of coffee, Black (Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Sumatra)

Ice Blended Dark Chocolate

My wife and I sat in the car yesterday, and all three kids fell asleep.  This is a rare treat for us, as we usually end up playing driving DJ with Lion King or Aladdin on the 1s and 2s.  Yesterday we timed things well though and the kids fell asleep and we could talk (a nice treat).

We stopped at the local Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and shared a new frozen coffee beverage.  As we talked  reviewing our little son being two, we talked about being home with our kids, the effort we have to exert, the tiredness, but ultimately our blessings.

At one point I pondered about parenthood, most times I would describe parenting as a blessing, and still others I would say it feels like a burden.  My wife and I agreed there are times that we both feel really connected with our kids.  Just the other day I got to listen with squeals of delight coming from the dining room as my wife and the boys sat and colored, and worked on activity books.  To hear my family is such delight as I worked in the kitchen was awesome.

  

Drew working on tracing his name, and Sean coloring.

Without fail, the sounds of screaming and yelling, shrieking and crying will permeate through the house as the boys fight and the baby makes her presence known.  There are days I just want to sit and vegetate in front of some screen...being a parent is something that feels like too tall an order.  A few times my son has asked me to play a game, or do a puzzle, or play baseball.  Looking back now I really regret sluffing him off and doing little to nothing memorable with that time, instead of classic memories now, I have a feeling of guilt for not better taking advantage of that brief moment of a child reaching out to a parent.  I feel like a train sometimes, and the thought of building up the energy to truly engage my kids can seem monumental, I know if I get going it will be easy to keep going, getting those wheels moving is harder than it seems sometimes.

Every parent needs a recharge, energy to play, time to themselves, and ultimately this concept of burden or blessing is something I think I will always feel.  I pray, and my wife and I laughed and said, it is probably 75% blessing 25% burden.  Optimistically I threw out 80% 20%, joking I'd like to think that I can be a "good parent" 4 out of 5 opportunities.

We continued driving, having a moment together, and built up the energy (a little help from caffeine) to really engage our kids when we arrived at our destination.

Life over an Ice Blended Dark Chocolate Coffee from Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf

Look at my last post HERE