Tag: Kids

Domestic Tranquility, Kids, Thoughts

Time’s Up

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

I hope many of you can relate to this and that I’m not alone. Scenario – you have to be somewhere in 30 minutes and you are at least 25 minutes away (that NEVER happens in suburbia, right?). As you hear the clock ticking in your head you notice your son is still playing in his underwear since he didn’t listen when you told him to finish getting dressed 20 minutes ago, and your daughter is still eating a snack. As you “politely” ask them to hurry up through clenched teeth, they ask “Why can’t I [play, eat] a few more minutes?”

And that’s when Daddy snaps. “Time’s up!” You highhandedly clothe the one while putting shoes on the other and simultaneously throw some snacks and water bottles in a bag and think to yourself “Why doesn’t their mother have this much trouble with them?” And yet, as soon as she gets back from wherever she is blissfully spending the morning, or as soon as you meet up with her she’s going to ask how it went. The answer, inevitably, is “great! Not a problem.” (mentally – can she see through the facade?)

We’re men. We can handle two small beings with the combined weight of a fully grown foxhound (or conversely 10 chihuahuas). We’ve got two arms and a full understanding of wrestling holds and bars perfected in Middle School. How hard can this be? That time you had to sell ice to people living in Alaska, that was hard. Finding the Titanic, a feat of nature. This is just two small kids. Why should we be afraid.

We neglect that God has already granted us with the perfect torture weapon for our enemies. It’s called the toddler. And I have two of them. I love them to death, every minute I spend with them is awesome. And yet it is draining and challenging at the same time. Somehow the two of them together make more racket than the 10 chihuahuas previously mentioned. While they are not strong enough to knock me over, they are strong enough to push every button that exists, and are at the wrong height so that an frustration push or punch when I’m standing is very unfortunate. As cute and cuddly as they can be when dozing with you in the rocking chair after reading a bedtime book, the switch can get flipped.

And so, we all get to that point. Time’s up! Not for them, but for your sanity. The steps you preach to them to calm down (take deep breaths, count to 10) flies out the window and if you are able to, by some miracle, appear outwardly calm, the swirling storm inside is raging. And of course this exacerbates the situations. Like wild animals, kids can sense tension, fear, and frustration. And they feed off of it. It’s like a box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs spiked with pixie sticks. The situation just went downhill like a roller coaster, only there are no brakes.

And where do you go from there? Do you apologize? Let them know you’re sorry? Or file it away internally and mentally justify your actions because you were going to be late for that very important, non-life or death, meeting. And at the end of it all, let’s make sure our wives know we appreciate EVERYTHING they do.

Cheers,

-SF

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Domestic Tranquility, Kids, Thoughts

Hostage Negotiation

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

For those who don’t know me, I’m an experienced hostage negotiator. This is a very high stress role where even the slightest mistake can be costly. You can train all you like, build up the rapport with your team, and run through scenarios until you are blue in the face, and none of that guarantees success when you are thrown into a real-world situation. The desires of the person feeling aggrieved could be all over the place and once someone snaps and gets to the point of making extremely irrational decisions you never know what is about to happen. It is my job to step into that chaos, find some form of a common ground, and stop parties on both sides from making any unfortunate decisions. I consider it a win if everyone walks away in one piece. Although some days I’m just happy to walk away without injury.

Last night was rough. There was a knock on the door and I was told I had to take care of a rapidly deteriorating situation (as these jobs normally start – you don’t get to be involved and step in until after everything has gone south). The local authority had exhausted their options, and they needed someone to deal with an individual physically lashing out at the world around them, screaming, and making demands that could not be met. Many people call this their worst nightmare. I call it Tuesday.

The first step is assessing the physical situation. What power does the alleged individual have at their disposal? How much damage can they do? How well contained are they? How many people are in harms way? What dollar figure would it take to replace property damage and how can they be kept away from making a bigger mess?

Once you have the lay of the land, you can move on to the higher level assessments. What are they demanding? Are they responding to logic? How can I establish a rapport with the individual? What demands am I prepared to give in to? What demands am I not authorized to commit to? When will it all end?

With all the assessments complete (and you get about 30 seconds to get a full grasp of what is going on before having to dive in) then you start talking. As long as the individual is talking, keep the lines of communication open. Even if you just repeat the same things over and over, keep them talking. Use physical restraints to keep them from causing damage, but otherwise provide the freedom to move and believe they have control over their world and decisions.

At times, like last night, it can seem like no progress is being made for quite a while. If you show signs of frustration or anger that only exacerbates the situation. You have to stay calm, even when you grow fatigued at doing the same thing over and over while getting yelled at. Give in where you can, but never show a chink in the armor of the untouchable demands.

Last night it took over 30 minutes of talking, guiding, physically getting near, starting to walk away, offer compromises to demands, and listening to yelling while calmly repeating our position before our daughter calmed down. She finally broke her position of Mommy reading her more books (after her bedtime routine was over) and let me help her change pajamas (that she got to pick out) before reading a book and crawling into her “big girl bed”.

For all the parents out there, life can seem insurmountable at times. It can feel like you have no outlet, like the stress won’t end. Believe me when I say there is hope and a light at the end of the tunnel. We went through stages like this with our son when he was 2, and he doesn’t act the same way anymore. You need to know your limits and when to tap out and ask your co-hostage negotiator to take over. Nights like Tuesday happen. But that doesn’t mean your family is falling apart or defunct. It’s kids growing up and not knowing how to handle their development.

Cheers,

-SF

*note, experience does not mean trained, nor employed as.

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Kids, Thoughts

“I Don’t Feel Well…”

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

No parent likes hearing the words “I don’t feel well” from their child. Sometimes you hear it when picking them up early from school, other times you hear it in the middle of the night. The words by themselves don’t tell you as much as the rest of the context: how they are walking, what their voice sounds like, the color of their skin, what their immediate next words are, etc.

This morning we heard it at 6:30 am when our son walked into the room. He sounded normal and his next words were, “I think I need to lie on the couch and watch shows all day.” Parental suspicion immediately kicked in and special detectives Mommy and Daddy started asking questions. “What do you mean?” “Where does it hurt?” “Can we get you some water?” Each answer was scrutinized to determine our response and the level of care that may be needed.

In this specific example, the questions continued to revolve around watching shows on the TV. Turns out he wanted everything he gets when he is well, plus the ability to lie on the couch and watch TV. Any ill effects were likely do to blooming plants and flowers triggering some allergies. No fever was detected and only a mild irritability had taken hold. We still treated him with some of the same basic rules for someone who is sick, but didn’t need to create a large plan for patient care and nurturing.

Had the answers been different we would have set him up with a nice comfy spot, given plenty of water, and provided a calm place to rest. In his mind, he was sick to the point of needing to be immobilized. In reality he is slightly under the weather, but will be fine by the end of the day.

I can definitely relate to him. I remember as a child feeling a tickle in the back of the throat that became a “sore throat” to stay home from school, which was followed up by playing games most of the day. Or suddenly “feeling better” when friends were home from school when I was really sick so I could get to play outside.

In our heads we morph reality to fit what we want it to look like. This manifests itself differently for everyone. Some of us like to pretend we are sick (or healthy) in order to get what we want. Others like to make up rules that only apply to themselves (“I have to live my life like this, while everyone else is held to a lower standard”). Still others (especially in the professional world) create a skewed world that views them as much more accomplished than they really are.

The worst part about these skewed realities, is when they come shattering down. When you find out you’re really not sick enough to spend the day on the couch like you hoped. When you find out that no matter how much you try to follow the rules for yourself, you never quite make it to the level of the people with lower standards. Or when you get your performance review and find out that management doesn’t view you the way that you view yourself. These days hurt, they feel like you have been wronged. Yet we neglect that the only reason we felt that way was because we skewed our reality in the first place. Let’s try to take a healthy view of ourselves and our surroundings.

Cheers,

-SF

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Kids, Thoughts

First Things First

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

One of the awesome things about kids is watching them grow up, become more and more independent, and ultimately, gain enough knowledge and skills to take care of you in your old age. This post is dedicated to a lot of the unique firsts you get as a parent.

  1. First time driving them home
  2. First steps
  3. First words
  4. First time operating technology
  5. First time having a conversation with Alexa
  6. First time saying a word in public that you don’t want people knowing you taught them
  7. First time hearing “I love you”
  8. First time hearing “I hate you”
  9. First time having food thrown in your face
  10. First time falling asleep with them on your chest
  11. First time playing video games with them
  12. First time chasing them down as they try to run away outside
  13. First time hearing they root for the other team
  14. First time sharing ice cream on a hot summer day
  15. First time watching the sun set

Cheers,

SF

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Constitution, Domestic Tranquility, Kids, Thoughts

Childhood Justice

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.     

Martin Luther King, Jr.

The childhood sense of fairness is unparalleled in its ability to create conflict and strife. The height of the Cold War pales in comparison to the scorn felt by a child who has perceived wrong. And the offense doesn’t need to be as trivial as a nuclear arms race. No, these wrongs are felt over real, true matters. Like the amount of goldfish in snack cup (“But he got MORE”), the book selection (“We ALWAYS read her book first”), or the dreaded “turn” (as in “I NEVER get a turn”). All of these are invariably followed up by “It’s not FAIR”. The kids are truly internalizing what Martin Luther King, Jr. said, but focusing it on themselves. Injustice to me is a threat to justice everywhere.

As they progress, the things that are unfair get bigger and bigger. What started as the snack cup selection (and I will promise you they have the exact same number of goldfish) quickly escalates to privileges such as driving, seeing PG-13 movies, dating, and other events in life. Whenever Dad makes an unpopular decision, as determined by a nation wide poll and loudly proclaimed by a teenage daughter at the top of her lungs, it’s NOT FAIR.

But what if fair is NOT in the eye of the beholder. We all perceive injustices against ourselves. But I think in the spirit of Dr. King, we should not focus on the injustice perpetrated against ourselves, but that which is wrought upon those who are less fortunate, those who truly are not getting a fair life. Why is it that some people are born to loving families and others are not? Why is it that some kids are blessed with siblings, while others aren’t? How can it be fair that atrocities such as the Holocaust happened. Is there an objective standard that can be used to measure fairness in this world?

I would argue yes, there is an objective standard. How is it that universally children are ready to go to war over the concept of fairness? How is it that a child fresh from the womb has a concept of wanting something they don’t have? How is it that every society throughout human history has come up with concepts such as justice and fairness? The only rational explanation is that this is grounded in objective truth, that there is a deeper meaning behind these feelings and that if we can focus outside ourselves long enough, we may be able to see the source of the justice or find that which is prompting us.

Whatever the case, as long as we focus on fairness for ourselves, we will be in constant battles with those around us. When we can take a step back and evaluate the situation calmly and rationally, it might just be possible for us to discover true fairness.

Cheers,

-SF

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Domestic Tranquility, Kids, Thoughts, Why

Why Do Spiders Need to Die?

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

The Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the water spout;

Down came the rain and washed the spider out;

Out came the sun and dried up all the rain;

And the Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the spout again;

-The Itsy Bitsy Spider

A year ago, a spider would have sent my kids running, despite my professions that they are harmless and just eat the bad bugs. Today, a daddy long legs was spotted in the corner of the play room and all of a sudden it turned into DEFCON 3. Not from me. I was calmly sitting, but the kids were grabbing EVERYTHING. Suddenly the tranquil play time turned into shouts of:

  • “This is my blaster”
  • “This is my shooter”
  • [2 year old puts on Wonder Woman costume] “This will help me”
  • “I need this” [grabs random play kitchen pot]

In all the commotion, they don’t notice that the daddy long legs has calmly meandered behind the climbing wall and isn’t in view anymore. This led to an interesting discussion (emphasis added to give an idea on inflection of littler voices):

  • Suburban Father – “Guys, why does the spider need to die?”
  • Daughter – “Because he is EVIL!”
  • SF – “What does that mean?”
  • Son – “He’s here to GET us.”
  • D – “Yeah… he’s here to GET us.”
  • SF – “He’s only here to eat the bad bugs…”
  • S – “No… he’s here to GET us.”

This continued for a few minutes with little change to content. No longer are they afraid of a spider, they have been ingrained with the urge to kill (thankfully the urge and the capability are two different things). It doesn’t matter why, it’s the enemy, the other, the thing that is after us. It awakens their imaginations and they are not in the playroom, they are soldiers on the front lines of a Starship Troopers style invasion. They are breaching the Black Gate into Mordor. No matter what hideous thing comes at them, they are READY.

And aren’t we all this way? Sure, we laugh and watch as our kids get worked up over a spider and have their imaginations run wild. But we do this too. We let our imaginations run wild with our own importance, manufacturing a world around us that is different than reality. It manifests itself differently for different people, but it is all over the suburbs. There’s the guy down the street self-medicating his divorce with shiny toys that make it seem like his life isn’t falling apart. There’s the couple in the cul-de-sac up to their eyeballs in credit card debt trying to maintain a lifestyle they think they have. There’s the boss at work who fancies himself as upper management’s savior and always micro-managing people. There’s the person writing this blog that thinks he’s smarter than the other people in the room, so he started a blog.

What’s the answer? For starters, the spider doesn’t need to die. It eats bugs and helps control them, something we can all appreciate. Second, the answer is also not to lose the imagination. It’s a wonderful tool we were built with to create something out of nothing. With no imagination there would be no art, no new technology, and a lot of bland vanilla.

We need to maintain a healthy view of reality to make good decisions hand in hand with the ability to see the world as a child does: in wonder with excitement and potential around every corner. Be truthful in the things that matter, and fun-loving in the things that are trivial.

Cheers,

-SF

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Domestic Tranquility, Kids, Thoughts

The Smell of Grass

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; 
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. 

Walt Whitman

Nothing is more suburban than mowing the grass on a Saturday morning. The whir of other lawn mowers fills the air, water flows down the road from someone washing their car up the street, and the smell of freshly cut grass permeates the air. Since God rested in the Garden of Eden, this is the closest to heaven that we can get. It is a ritual not understood by those in the city, and undertaken alone by those in the country.

And then the tranquil bliss is interrupted by the most angelic of beings… your 4 year old walking up wanting to help. How do you explain why the grass needs to be cut, or even what the grass is? How do you explain that the blade on the bottom of the lawn mower can create a BIG problem really quickly without scarring him for life? Or that him “helping” will add 20 minutes to a task that was only going to take 15 minutes in the first place. You can’t. You can only breathe deep and stare in wonder at the world the way a child does, when the days seem to last forever, the sun is always warm, and nothing is better than playing outside with your friends and your imagination.

And then that breathe is interrupted by your 2 year old walking up wiping her mouth with dirt stained hands saying the dirt tastes “yucky” with a horrendous look on her face. As you laugh because you remember doing the same thing when you were a child, you help her wipe her mouth out and ask if she learned something from the experience. And then you take a deep breathe, enjoy the smell of the cut grass, and let time pass slowly for a few minutes, basking in the moment.

Does this sound familiar? Isn’t this all of our experience every weekend? No? Me neither. I wish I could say I took the time to embrace and experience the peace, the Jewish concept of shalom. That slice of perfection this side of heaven that is spending a perfect summer morning cutting the grass and enjoying the weather with your family. But I don’t. Why not? Why do I let the worries of Monday affect my Saturday. Why do I worry about the events planned for the weekend instead of being in the moment? Why do I feel envious because the Joneses seem to be able to relax by their pool while I’m out here?

It’s way too easy for us to get sidetracked from the pictures of perfection, or heaven on Earth, that are put before us. I’m not saying the Suburbs are heaven (although I do enjoy living here). I’m saying the situations we are put in resemble Heaven in those ways. If we can find a way to be content, to live in those moments and cling to them, we’d find that the stress melts away, our families become stronger, and the worries of this world don’t have as much power over us.

Cheers,

-SF

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food, Kids, Thoughts

Food Choices

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

It’s amazing the things kids will and won’t eat. They start off with milk and then are transitioned to things pureed. It doesn’t matter what, they’ll eat it. Pureed spinach? Yep. Pureed meatball? Yep. Pureed Mac and Cheese? Yet. And then they hit 18 months and start getting picky. All of a sudden food they liked the day before is comida non grata. This post is dedicated to the weird food combinations and statements my kids have liked and made…

Likes…

  • Peanut butter and cheese
  • Butter and cheese
  • Peanut butter by itself
  • Banana and peanut butter (not a bad combination, but it makes the list because the child thinks banana by itself is disgusting)
  • Peanut butter and popcorn
  • Liking the table (“it tastes good”)
  • Cherry tomatoes
  • Raw pizza dough (takes after me)
  • Licking the butter wrapper
  • Licking the Mac and Cheese cheese flavor wrapper

Doesn’t like…

  • Refuses to touch hamburger (“It’s too spicy”)
  • Refuses to touch blueberries (except to throw them away)
  • Starts to eat an orange slice and then spits it out… every time. And then asks for another one.
  • Ice cream is too cold and not good?
  • Bagel toasted with cream cheese… then tries it and loves it… then wants it “regular” again.
  • Candy with nuts in it.
  • Any form of green herb in the food (“it’s too spicy”)

Cheers,

-SF

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Thoughts

Boys and Girls

Posted on by suburbanfatherhood

A person’s a person, no matter how small.

Dr. Seuss

If you’re like me, you’re a fan of Dr. Seuss. From the start of One Fish, Two Fish he had me hooked. The rhyming nature of his work, the tongue twisters he puts together, and even his illustrating are a huge reason he still is a mainstay in children’s literature.

But the thing that enthralls me the most is the whimsical worlds he creates. The houses defies the laws of physics, animals can talk (of course), and a big-hearted moose gets away just in time. He had an uncanny nature to inject the world of a child’s mind onto each page, to display the same sense of wonder at what is going on in the world as the readers are experiencing.

Being in touch with a child’s mind like this is a gift. One that I don’t have. But having observed my own children growing, I’ve noticed a distinct difference between my son and my daughter. Yes, all children are different and unique and will have inherent differences. But there’s just something different about how they are wired as genders.

My son is awesome. His enthusiasm for life seems unparalleled. He is wild, crazy, and fierce, always wanting your attention and always full of energy. Some days he is Batman, other days he is the Flash. He always thinks he can win and always hates losing (which is bad because he is nowhere near as fast the adult he always challenges to race… me).

But regardless of how he is pretending to be that day, without fail, any toy you give him inevitably ends up being a weapon. It may be a sword, a knife, a gun, a “shooter”, a blaster, a light-saber, or another item from his imagination. There’s always a bad guy to catch, a person to fight, a pirate to find, or something else seemingly manly to do. He is currently walking around asking “where is my blaster?” It’s always destruction and fighting.

Alternatively, my daughter also loves being sweet and cuddly, pretending to be Wonder Woman, Batgirl, or other girl-based superhero. Where “Batman” likes fighting, “Batgirl” loves saving. She’s there to pull him out of trouble when he gets caught by Daddy. She’s there to save her stuffed animals. Instead of building weapons, she has accessories. She builds homes and beds, and wants to make sure things are tucked in tight.

I realize that gender is a touchy topic in our present society, and I am not intending to wade into that fight. However, I marvel at the diversity I see in my own kids, raised in the same house. No matter how much we encourage our son to build something “nice”, it always becomes a weapon or a base or similar. As soon as our daughter gets involved, she labels it something charming. From the womb, with the same environment and upbringing, they demonstrate very different inherent tendencies. What a wonderful world we live in.

Cheers,

SF

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