In front of the Lego Store in Downtown Disney, I saw a father squatting in front of a stroller with a crying toddler inside. The child’s mother wasn’t in sight, and the father was obviously at his wit’s end with the crying. I overheard him pleading to the kid,
“Be logical!”
Then, waving his hands, “We don’t have any more money!”
Guess how much that helped. My wife and I still chuckle, in sympathy for the poor guy.
“Daddy, what are opposites?”
“Opposites are things very different from each other. Like high and low. Or thin and fat.”
“I got one, Daddy! Day and light!”
“Those aren’t opposites, Sweetie. Those two words go together. Opposites don’t go together like that.”
“I got another one, Daddy! Stars and … Doggy!”
Great, now I have to explain the difference between opposites and non sequiturs.
…Your little boy stating firmly that “the pee is coming.” It’s like this army of pee that’s about to attack, and if you don’t act now, you’ll be sorry.
Lillian sent me that vivid little story while I was at work. It made my work problems suddenly fall into perspective.
Ahh, the joys of parenthood…
When I was a kid, my mom took me to a friend’s house where she chatted with the other mom while my friend and I played a board game. Let’s call him Cheating Cheater instead of Charlie Humphrey.
Cheating Cheater cheated. It infuriated me, and I called him on it. We got a little rowdy, and the moms came in. And get this – they didn’t punish him. They told us to make up and keep playing. Did they not understand what Cheating Cheater did and that retribution was demanded?
It was at that moment, I kid you not, that I dedicated my life to righteousness. To this date, I wait at crosswalks even when there are no cars, I don’t cheat on taxes, and I keep an eagle eye out for evil doers.
Jump to the present day. I’ve explained to the kids that they should resolve minor issues themselves. But sometimes there’s an escalating war of telling. Today, after a few dozen “Aaron spit at me”s and “Maddie hit me”s I let loose with an
I regretted it as soon as I said it. I only hope that maybe my kids took the opportunity to dedicate their lives to righteousness at that point.
We inflated a couple of balloons for the kids to bat around earlier in the day. And so the batting commenced.
Some time later Aaron angrily comes from the other room, clutching his balloon, telling me that “Maddie’s hitting my balloon.” I want him to handle it himself, so I say, “Tell her, ‘Stop it Maddie.'”
He begins to head off. Then he stops, and sees Maddie’s balloon is in this room. He takes a minute trying to hold his balloon while picking up her balloon. He looked like the bear gathering fish in Disney’s The Jungle Book, as one balloon would squeeze out when he grabbed the other. He eventually succeeds, though.
So he goes back to the other room precariously holding both balloons and says, “Here’s your balloon, Maddie. You hit your balloon.”
My son, the conflict resolver. So much for his dad’s stupid advice.
Aaron turned three yesterday. We gave him this wooden trainset table. Not only did it include over 100 pieces to play with, those were apparently constructed out of hundreds of smaller pieces, fastened by thousands of allen and phillips-head screws. Oh, yes, I paid my daddy dues that day.
Luckily, he seems to like it. We’ll see how long that lasts.
What was the best time we had on his birthday? Taking a little toy paratrooper outside, tossing it up in the air, and trying to catch it as it floats down in its parachute. Whoever caught the toy won, and Aaron was just as happy for me when I caught it as he was proud when he caught it. Either way, there’d be squeals of joy. And before each toss, Aaron would let me know how it should be thrown: always “Higher, Daddy!”
Aaron’s beginning to understand that Lillian leaves to go to work at night. One night, as he was going to bed, he asked her, “You going to work?”
“Yes.”
“Why you going to work?”
“So I can make money.”
“Why?”
“To buy you presents.”
“But why you gotta go to work?”
At that point, it went around again. Aaron was playing the badger-you-until-you-answer-what-I-want game. Finally, he accepted that she was going to go, and he went to bed.
The next morning, when Lillian returned from work, he woke up, went to her and asked, “You go to work?”
“Yeah, I’m back already.”
“You get the money?”
“Can I go to sleep now? Please?”
I don’t expect to hear that again for another year.
Last week, we took the kids on the Niles Canyon Train of Lights. That’s an accurate description of the train, alright. After we drove into sleepy little Sunol, we came upon the bright and lavishly decorated classic train.
We got on the train and were amazed at how well each car was decorated. Then, the train started its journey, and we all gathered at the window to look at the countryside. Well, the countryside was moonlit, but pretty unremarkable. Just hills and trees, mostly.
To keep Aaron from getting bored, I tried to engage him with questions and observations. Things like, “Can you find the moon,” “Look! We’re on a bridge,” and “Can you find the house?” Aaron got into it, and was anxious to discover and find every little thing.
He seemed OK, so I went to give Maddie some attention, too. Before long, Aaron called out.
“Daddy!”
“What is it, Aaron?”
“What are we finding now?”
Corny as it is, there are no words that could have made a Daddy happier. They’re way up there with “I did it!” I made sure Aaron found lots of other amazing things on the trip.
My wife is very conflicted about December. Christmastime is her favorite time of year. But, she also has to deal with three birthdays within a month of each other. (Everybody in our family but her!)
I understand that it’s a very busy time, and I appreciate that she makes each birthday very special. But I always wonder, what’s the big deal? Throw a few parties, give some goodie bags, everybody has a great time, and you’re done, right?
Last night, I was reading Sleeping Beauty to the kids before bedtime. The evil fairy Maleficent had just attempted to murder Princess Aurora, had imprisoned Prince Philip, and was now fighting him to the death. Maddie asked me, “Why does Maleficent want to hurt Prince Philip?”
“Because she didn’t get invited to Princess Aurora’s birthday party.”
If that’s what Disney teaches little girls, I think I understand my wife’s ambivalence about December a little better.