Category: Kids

Window of Opportunity

So maybe we let Kai stay up later than we should.

Or gave him a few more Animal Crackers or sips of Diet Coke. I may have given him a slice of gum or two when Kim wasn’t looking.

When he hid the Tivo remote for a day we laughed it off. Had it been Lincoln, who knows if Scooby Doo privileges would be reinstated.

kainord

Whatever the reasons, the arrival of Kai has been different. Different from the previous three.

I’d like to tell you I was deeply involved with each child when they were newborns and toddlers. And I was to some extent, but it wasn’t consistent. There’s a difference showing up and being involved. I was there. But I wasn’t always engaged. The computer or game was in the foreground while my kids disappeared into the background.

Within four months of Anna Lynn’s birth we sold our home, lived with two grandparents, switched jobs, and relocated to a small down 1500 miles away from the only friends our kids knew.

By the time I got settled my baby daughter was no longer a baby. I wanted to rock her to sleep. But she wanted to run around the house. I wanted to spoon feed her applesauce. She wanted to feed herself. That window of opportunity where I could sit her down next to me on the couch and she couldn’t jump off?

Gone.

Things have been different with Kai. I’m sure part of that is due to regret.

And the fact that he might be our last child.

Kim brought Kai home to me tonight while she ran an errand with the other kids. Had this one of our first three children, I would have sat him on the floor, given him a few toys and kept my fingers crossed he didn’t discover the scissors and gum in my top drawer.

But tonight I didn’t push him into the background hoping he wouldn’t bother me.

Instead I placed him on the cushions I’d pulled off the couch and looked into his big blue eyes. And then I pulled faces and giggled and tickled his belly button until he had tears running down his chubby cheeks. What felt like a few minutes turned into half an hour, and I could not possibly be any happier.

Moments like this are magical. Just me and my son who will be two in November. He doesn’t say much yet. But that doesn’t detract from the enjoyment. He doesn’t have to say anything because I can see his joy reflected back in those eyes.

And yet I know that no matter how much he’s enjoying our time together, I’m enjoying it even more.

Because I know what it feels like to miss it entirely.

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Summer Break

I arrived home from work to find Luca sitting at her computer. She spun around on a big black chair she’d taken from my desk and replaced with her uncomfortable plastic chair. Of course, she thought it was funny when I sat down and began laughing just in case my butt hadn’t noticed.

Next to her LCD screen was a Nintendo DS and a bag full of games. Stacks of library books were piled high on the adjacent desk. Puzzles, board games, and crafts were a closet away.

"Do you want to play a computer game?" I ask.

"Nope"

"What about a puzzle?"

"Nope"

"Would you want to watch a DVD?"

"Already did that today"

"Hmmm…is there anything you’d like to do?

"There’s nothing to do"

Welcome to day 3 of summer break.

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Boys of Summer

Kim asked me to spend some time in the backyard with the kids this evening. What I think she meant to say was, “Do something to wear out the kids so they will go to bed before midnight”.

But either way, she was right.

We started out playing soccer using a tree and yellow Tonka truck as goal markers. The game ended when Anna went inside and wrote “7” on a piece of paper and “4” on another. She returned to the yard to flash the scores which turned out to be in her favor.

Her siblings who didn’t agree. As the official score keeper, I went to the sideline to review the instant replay monitor and called the game a tie, which certainly prevented a bench-clearing brawl.

lincbaseball

We moved on to baseball. Or as close to the game of baseball one can come using a Spiderman bat and volleyball.

I showed both Lincoln and Luca how to hold a baseball bat. The proper grip, stance and motion were all part of the lecture. Just as I thought I was getting through, Luca said, “Just throw the ball, dad”.

I found myself giving the same advice my father gave me. I can’t imagine the number of hours my father spent playing catch with me. I can still hear the *smack* of the ball hitting my glove just right. Or the times he’d toss batting practice and I’d lace a hit into the street. My dad would race after the ball to keep it from going down the storm drain.

The older I get, the more I realize how often I give my children the same advice my parents gave me.

“Keep your chin on your shoulder and drive though the ball”

“If you take it, you eat it”

“No running in the church”

“Don’t sit too close to the TV”

“Hustle every play”

“All four chair legs on the floor”

“Say excuse me”

The phrases I told myself I’d never use on my own kids are the ones I repeat the most often. Maybe they contain the most universal truth. Or they could be the only ones I remember.

But it does make me aware that what I say to my children make take up permanent residence in their minds.

So when Lincoln asked me to retrieve the ball he smacked into the neighbor’s yard, I just smiled.

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I Need A Watch

Lincoln: Hey, dad, I need a watch.

Me: What would you do with a watch?

Lincoln: I’d tell time.

Me: Oh…you know how to tell time?

Lincoln: *scowls*

Me: I’ll show you how. 

Lincoln: All I know is that if the little hand’s like on the 6 it’s o’thirty, but if the big hand’s on top it’s o’clock.

Me: (pointing to clock on the wall showing 6:45 pm) What time is it now?

Lincoln: I don’t know. I’ll have to wait till it’s 7:30.

Bare Foot Piggy-Back Rides

Kim and I have a goal of getting our kids in bed by 8 pm on school nights. Any bed will do. We are not beyond bribing when Lost or The Office is on. Whatever it takes. Just find a bed, couch, or sleeping bag and keep it down.

On the weekends, we’re less structured and allow the kids to stay up later. When coercion and bribes have failed, I use the only tool I have left at my disposal: Offering piggy-back rides.

I don’t know what it is about a piggy-back ride, but the kids will do anything for them. Homework, chores, flushing the toilet – you name it and a piggy-back ride will get them in line faster than anything else I can offer.

The fact is I enjoy giving them to the kids. As long as they don’t strangle me by gripping my neck too tightly, enough oxygen gets to my brain and I’m able to make it through three tours for our three oldest.

I have to be careful to follow the exact same route through the house or I’ll be called out as having given a sibling a longer ride.

Tonight, Anna jumped on my back and I decided to change things up a bit. Lucky for me, Child Protection Services wasn’t in the neighborhood because I created a game called “Where Can Dad Put Your Bare Foot”.

The game isn’t complex. As Anna held on to my neck, I walked into the kitchen and held her foot under cold water from the tap. I then put it in the freezer and told her the microwave was next as she laughed and shrieked. She didn’t like the idea of her foot on the stove or in the toaster so merely walking towards both had the intended effect. How about a wet foot getting too close to a wall socket? I’m glad I was there to only simulate the shock!

Of course, Luca and Lincoln demanded the same level of danger on their rides. When I tried to substitute putting Lincoln’s foot in the dishwasher instead of on the stove he said, “Hey, Anna got to do the stove!!”

Games like this one and the Jaws of Death probably aren’t going to show up in any parenting magazines as recommended activities to do with your kids.

But I’m still convinced the games one makes up on the spot are the best.

When I dropped Anna off onto her bed, she gave me a kiss goodnight and asked if we could do it again tomorrow.

“Only if you’re not afraid of the waffle iron”

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Rainbow Sprinkles

Nine little girls invaded our home last week to celebrate Luca’s 8th birthday. They have so much excitement and energy their little bodies can barely contain it. And I had no idea what they talked about because the speak a language that’s foreign to me.

One little girl asked Kim if she could perform a dance for the group. Another girl wolfed down three hotdogs.

But my favorite memory can be summed up in this card that was made for Luca by her friend:

sprinkles

The Blur on a Bike

I was shooting the basketball outside tonight when a blur went by on two wheels. The blur was giggling and yelling, “LOOK DAD!”

Well, I’ve seen this blur before. It’s the same one that sends me off to work each morning with a sore hand full of high fives. It’s the same one who has yet to put shoes on the right feet, and the one who blesses her brother’s butt during family prayer.

annahelmet

Anna Lynn brings a lot of joy into our lives along with a fair share of “Did she really just say that?” looks of bewilderment.It’s hard to explain the joy one derives from watching your children learn new skills, especially those which bring so many smiles.

But I was still surprised to see her zip around the cul-de-sac tonight on a bike without training wheels. Her brown hair flew in the wind as it stuck out from under her helmet. Her legs were peddling as fast as they could go as she gripped the handlebars in that awkward manner that says, “I’m new to this so watch out!”

That’s when I yelled out, “Hey, show me how you stop”.

She whipped around the corner and slammed into the door of the neighbor’s Ford Taurus.

I guess it’s time for a lesson on brakes.

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The Beanbag Chair

Last night, I grabbed the Car & Driver magazine that arrived in the day’s mail and took a seat on the couch. It’s a decent sized couch with plenty of room for an adult and a few children.

But my kids mistake the couch (and my body) for a beanbag chair they can mold and contort to their liking. First Luca asked me to lay down so she could recline across my chest. Although that position makes it more difficult to read my magazine, I’m happy she wants to spend time next to me, so I change positions.

That lasts about two minutes before Anna Lynn jumps on the back of the couch and slides down the cushions until she’s settled across my legs.

So now I’m trying to read the latest mid sized sedan comparison with what feels like a 45 lb. steel ball with long hair wedged against my diaphragm. Anna Lynn has wiggled herself into a position that’s cut circulation to my legs causing them to tingle.

I’m spending far more time keeping strands of blond hair out of my eyes, mouth and nose than I am reading car reviews.

It’s about this time that I’m reminded how much money I’ve spent over the years on car seats, strollers, high chairs and bouncy seats. All these products have a use, and can add to the safety and convenience of securing and transporting children.

But kids don’t care about any of that. They don’t want to be strapped, tied of fastened to a chair for long. Who would?

It won’t be long before my children are too big to rest across my legs. The days I can carry them on my shoulders to bed are numbered. That 4 year old daughter I fling over my back and twirl around until she’s dizzy has a fast approaching expiration date.

Last night I realized how much I will miss nights like this one. I don’t know if the couch will be around when the kids no longer treat me like a beanbag. I know I’ll be sad the first time they sit at the opposite end, far away from me with two feet on the floor.

I still have the better portion of my favorite magazine to read.

But it will have to wait until the feeling in my legs returns.

Telling Scary Stories

We have this ritual at our house where Kim takes the first crack at getting the kids to bed. Success at this stage of the night is recognized when each child has pajamas on. That’s when she clocks out for the evening and I’m supposed to use whatever means necessary to get the kids into their beds and down for the night. 

Kim thinks I should take a calm approach which includes using inside voices, a few hugs and lots of love mixed in with a story or two that doesn’t include monsters or robbers hiding under beds or in closets. 

But after 12 years of marriage, Kim should know better. My idea of getting the kids down is to wind them up to the point where there’s not a single ounce of energy remaining in their small bodies, and they collapse from exhaustion. Or just the opposite of Kim’s approach.

lincolnbw

Tonight I decided to tell Lincoln a scary story. For the story to be extra scary I lay next to him so he can see the expression on my face. I whisper certain parts of the story into his ear that always includes a big hairy spider coming out from under the bed or through the closet to wreak havoc on a normal 6-year old boy who happens to have three sisters and a dog and whose name begins with an “L”.

But any similarities to Lincoln is pure coincidence. He loves that part.  He grins knowing he’s in on the secret. Tonight’s story took off in a direction that wasn’t making much sense even by my standards.

And then Lincoln had a question that put everything in perspective.

“If I saw a spider, even a big one, why couldn’t I put my shoes on and just STEP ON IT?”

I started to laugh. Lincoln was laughing so hard I wasn’t sure he was breathing. We both recognized the absurdity of my story simultaneously and could not stop laughing. The more I laughed the louder Lincoln laughed as he rolled around the bed.

And then he laughed so hard he fell off the bed and onto the floor.

Of course, this made us laugh even more.

But sure enough. Once I helped Lincoln back into bed, kissed him on the cheek and pulled the covers up high (exactly how he likes them), he was fast asleep in minutes.

When Lincoln is older and doesn’t find much humor in my stories I’m going to remind him of the time he laughed so hard he fell out off the bed.

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