If my children were blessed with any super-powers, their power would be the power of randomness. Sometimes it can be mentally debilitating for Ashley and I. "Dun da da daaaaa....Random Child."
I can see it. Cooper standing in the middle of the living room wearing a red jumpsuit with cape and a mask. On the center of the chest is a huge "RC" in a shield. Proud of her random statement that puts me on my back due to the mental confusion, she stands over me laughing with her hands on her hips. Yes, she uses her powers for evil.
It is actually comical at times. Hannah and Cooper both have been blessed with the power of being random. Example, you ask? I think so. The other day Cooper walks up to Ashley and I and says, "I'm like a teenager, only 5." Dun da da daaaaaa. She walked away laughing and I was left with a dumbfounded expression and a lot of confusion. It can make your head hurt, can't it?
Initially I thought, how ridiculous. But her statement actually made some sense. Five year olds are overly dramatic and emotional, just like a teenager. Five year olds are stubborn and have crafted the art of lying, just like a teenager. How brilliant. The fact it actually made sense only confused me more. How did she know?
Anyway, both of my older children have the equal capacity to be completely random in their statements. Cooper learned from Hannah, and Riley will learn from them both. Ashley and I will be sitting around one day minding our own business, when all of the sudden, Riley will be sent into the living room by her diabolical sisters with this statement..."I love cheese, and roast beef makes me happy." She will turn and walk away with a smile while we are left stupefied by the complete randomness of her confessing a love of dairy products and cold cuts.
Huh? You love cheese? Roast beef...what? They all will laugh while and revel in our confusion while presenting Riley with the "Random Child" super-suit she just earned. We will be left wondering if Bill Cosby was right about all children having brain damage.
Yes friends...your child can be random, too. It's tiring at times, take it from me. Get familiar with this brilliant rebuttal..."Huh."
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
It Is Madness
Black Friday. Wow, it starts earlier every year. And this year, it started on Thursday. That is insane. Last night I went to work and went through my shift as normal. Then around midnight I saw the traffic patterns changing. Wal-Mart became the all important destination.
I drove by and looked in the parking lot, as I did not want to chance getting stuck in the viper's pit, even in a marked patrol unit. I was scared, I admit it. I saw people everywhere. I though to myself, how ridiculous. Why would people go and sit in line, in some places in sub-20 degree weather, for some toys/electronics/whatever it is they wanted. Here's a tip for other parents. For those of you who are first time parents, keep this simple truth in mind. Ready...toddlers could care less what is in the box. Just give them the box. It would be the greatest gift on earth. Hours of fun I tell you.
I am not really dogging on anyone who waited in lines at 1:30 am. I understand there are some good deals on all the holiday wish list items, and hey, the kids are asleep so it is a great time to sneak around and buy stuff.
As I said, I went to work, and got off shift at 4am. I had a "honey-do" to complete, and that was to go to Wal-Mart to get milk, water and something for breakfast. Again, I was scared. I saw the traffic, I saw the people. I just knew there would be madness inside. I pulled up to the store and parked in the South 40. And I just sat there...contemplating. Should I or shouldn't I? Do I risk it inside, or risk getting in trouble at home?
Needless to say, as any married man knows...I went inside, although reluctantly. I had already heard the stories about fights in the center of the store. I was in uniform and knew I was safe, but still apprehensive. The store at first looked empty. That could not be. I saw the madness in the parking lot. Then I turned the corner of the first aisle and saw people in LAWN CHAIRS sitting in the aisles. So I stood there watching, and wondering, what the heck they were doing. They were waiting for the next set of deals to start. I was on the grocery side and these people were sitting in lawn chairs down the grocery aisles....on the opposite side of the store from where they wanted to be. The funny part was that they looked at me like I was insane.
So I had just got off of work, went to get a couple of grocery items (at 4 am). I was the crazy one? No sir. No indeed.
Again, I don't think they were nutso or anything. I just wonder, why? Why sit for hours in a lawn chair in the aisle of Wal-Mart? What is so important? I don't know. I know plenty of intelligent people who were out in the bedlam that is Black Friday. I saw the traffic going to Lubbock at 2am. I talked to the "soon to be waiting in line for hours" shoppers. They were excited. They were psyching themselves up while chugging old, gas station coffee. Well, they had the old coffee because other officers and I drank all the fresh stuff. Ha Ha Ha Ha........
Sorry, that was mean, but still a little funny. Anyway, to all of you out there engaged in the shopping insanity, be good please. No fist fights over the newest Elmo toy. No body slams to get the Nintendo DS. No knees to the groin to steal the flat screen the old man is holding. Everyone stay calm.
While all of this is going on, I will be fast asleep, safe and cozy in my bed. Enjoy your shopping folks.
I drove by and looked in the parking lot, as I did not want to chance getting stuck in the viper's pit, even in a marked patrol unit. I was scared, I admit it. I saw people everywhere. I though to myself, how ridiculous. Why would people go and sit in line, in some places in sub-20 degree weather, for some toys/electronics/whatever it is they wanted. Here's a tip for other parents. For those of you who are first time parents, keep this simple truth in mind. Ready...toddlers could care less what is in the box. Just give them the box. It would be the greatest gift on earth. Hours of fun I tell you.
I am not really dogging on anyone who waited in lines at 1:30 am. I understand there are some good deals on all the holiday wish list items, and hey, the kids are asleep so it is a great time to sneak around and buy stuff.
As I said, I went to work, and got off shift at 4am. I had a "honey-do" to complete, and that was to go to Wal-Mart to get milk, water and something for breakfast. Again, I was scared. I saw the traffic, I saw the people. I just knew there would be madness inside. I pulled up to the store and parked in the South 40. And I just sat there...contemplating. Should I or shouldn't I? Do I risk it inside, or risk getting in trouble at home?
Needless to say, as any married man knows...I went inside, although reluctantly. I had already heard the stories about fights in the center of the store. I was in uniform and knew I was safe, but still apprehensive. The store at first looked empty. That could not be. I saw the madness in the parking lot. Then I turned the corner of the first aisle and saw people in LAWN CHAIRS sitting in the aisles. So I stood there watching, and wondering, what the heck they were doing. They were waiting for the next set of deals to start. I was on the grocery side and these people were sitting in lawn chairs down the grocery aisles....on the opposite side of the store from where they wanted to be. The funny part was that they looked at me like I was insane.
So I had just got off of work, went to get a couple of grocery items (at 4 am). I was the crazy one? No sir. No indeed.
Again, I don't think they were nutso or anything. I just wonder, why? Why sit for hours in a lawn chair in the aisle of Wal-Mart? What is so important? I don't know. I know plenty of intelligent people who were out in the bedlam that is Black Friday. I saw the traffic going to Lubbock at 2am. I talked to the "soon to be waiting in line for hours" shoppers. They were excited. They were psyching themselves up while chugging old, gas station coffee. Well, they had the old coffee because other officers and I drank all the fresh stuff. Ha Ha Ha Ha........
Sorry, that was mean, but still a little funny. Anyway, to all of you out there engaged in the shopping insanity, be good please. No fist fights over the newest Elmo toy. No body slams to get the Nintendo DS. No knees to the groin to steal the flat screen the old man is holding. Everyone stay calm.
While all of this is going on, I will be fast asleep, safe and cozy in my bed. Enjoy your shopping folks.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The Board of Education
"It used to take me all vacation to grow a new hide in place of the one they flogged off me during school term." ~Mark Twain
Lucky for me I never got spanked in school. I don't think my wife did either. I did however, get plenty of them at home. Corporal punishment was lawful, and in full use when I grew up. No lawsuits, and no parents spewing crap about their kid's rights being violated for getting a whooping after acting a fool. My parents, I'm sure, were okay with me getting a tail whooping at school if it became necessary. Luckily, I never tested that.
Isn't that how it goes though? A kid acts like a thug, and say, steals something from a classmate. The kid gets caught. In my school days, that was an automatic tail beating with the proverbial "board of education." It was a large wooden paddle with tape around the handle for grip, and holes drilled along the board. Bad stuff folks. I witnessed the carnage of Principal Baccus' whoopings by seeing my classmates come back to class with split pants. I remember that beating well. That kid actually came back with the back of his pants split right up the middle.
Back then, parents expected their children to get spanked at school if they acted a fool. Then, after school, when dad got home...the beatings would begin again.
Today however, that would be viewed as abuse and some parent somewhere would be filing lawsuits against everyone from the teacher to the Pope. Parents would argue that their little angel, little Johnny, would never steal (even though he was caught with the contraband). They would say, "No...no...he doesn't deserve that." "He's a good boy blah blah blah." My response...yes, yes he does.
I know of a kid that was caught with marijuana, in his shoe, on campus. The kid got arrested, as he should have. I mean, he sneaked dope into school, was sharing with other dopers, and got caught. His parents were outraged. Outraged at the fact he was using drugs? No. Not at the fact he was using dope on campus...but that he was arrested! They were angry their child was subject to search by school officials (perfectly legal by the way), who promptly called the police when they fond his stash. They argued his rights had been violated. WHAT? I couldn't believe it. Here's my issue...deal with the fact your kid smokes dope. Deal with his "puff puff, pass" mentality. Being arrested should have been the least of his worries. If it were me, I would have been begging to stay in jail to spare myself the much deserved beating at home.
So what have we learned here today? More school whoopings! Bring back the original "board of education."
Lucky for me I never got spanked in school. I don't think my wife did either. I did however, get plenty of them at home. Corporal punishment was lawful, and in full use when I grew up. No lawsuits, and no parents spewing crap about their kid's rights being violated for getting a whooping after acting a fool. My parents, I'm sure, were okay with me getting a tail whooping at school if it became necessary. Luckily, I never tested that.
Isn't that how it goes though? A kid acts like a thug, and say, steals something from a classmate. The kid gets caught. In my school days, that was an automatic tail beating with the proverbial "board of education." It was a large wooden paddle with tape around the handle for grip, and holes drilled along the board. Bad stuff folks. I witnessed the carnage of Principal Baccus' whoopings by seeing my classmates come back to class with split pants. I remember that beating well. That kid actually came back with the back of his pants split right up the middle.
Back then, parents expected their children to get spanked at school if they acted a fool. Then, after school, when dad got home...the beatings would begin again.
Today however, that would be viewed as abuse and some parent somewhere would be filing lawsuits against everyone from the teacher to the Pope. Parents would argue that their little angel, little Johnny, would never steal (even though he was caught with the contraband). They would say, "No...no...he doesn't deserve that." "He's a good boy blah blah blah." My response...yes, yes he does.
I know of a kid that was caught with marijuana, in his shoe, on campus. The kid got arrested, as he should have. I mean, he sneaked dope into school, was sharing with other dopers, and got caught. His parents were outraged. Outraged at the fact he was using drugs? No. Not at the fact he was using dope on campus...but that he was arrested! They were angry their child was subject to search by school officials (perfectly legal by the way), who promptly called the police when they fond his stash. They argued his rights had been violated. WHAT? I couldn't believe it. Here's my issue...deal with the fact your kid smokes dope. Deal with his "puff puff, pass" mentality. Being arrested should have been the least of his worries. If it were me, I would have been begging to stay in jail to spare myself the much deserved beating at home.
So what have we learned here today? More school whoopings! Bring back the original "board of education."
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
She wore what?
Everyday when I send Riley to daycare, I would normally expect she would come home wearing the exact same clothes I sent her in. Isn't that what anyone of us would expect? I mean, she is not yet old enough, or coordinated enough to strip herself down to her green and white diaper.
Ashley sent extra clothes to daycare, like every parent of an infant does. But, I never expect for the clothes to get used. I figure the "backup outfit," as it is called, would just stay in the bag and not see the light of day.
Yesterday I picked up Riley to a funny, well no, hilarious scene. Once again, I have photos.
I think Ashley brought that outfit to daycare months ago. That would mean, it was months ago that she actually wore it...when it fit. I pick her up wearing that following a blow out doo doo diaper. The shirt is too small, and the shorts even smaller.
What was funniest about it to me was the white socks and brown shoes, well, along with the fact the clothes are way too small. That's my little fashionista...
Ashley sent extra clothes to daycare, like every parent of an infant does. But, I never expect for the clothes to get used. I figure the "backup outfit," as it is called, would just stay in the bag and not see the light of day.
Yesterday I picked up Riley to a funny, well no, hilarious scene. Once again, I have photos.
I think Ashley brought that outfit to daycare months ago. That would mean, it was months ago that she actually wore it...when it fit. I pick her up wearing that following a blow out doo doo diaper. The shirt is too small, and the shorts even smaller.
What was funniest about it to me was the white socks and brown shoes, well, along with the fact the clothes are way too small. That's my little fashionista...
Monday, November 22, 2010
And so it starts.
This morning started out like all of the rest. Everybody up...and dressed. I was getting Riley changed, because of the ritualistic morning doo doo diaper. I got her dressed and walked back into the living room.
Cooper was so proud of herself. She built Riley a "playhouse" in the middle of the living room. I have photos...
Take a good look. At first, it indeed appears to be a fun little play area. Look inside and you will see a toy basket filled with fun goodness for Riley to enjoy. It's not the inside...but the outside we should focus our attention to.
Notice the pillows? Notice walls all around? It's not a playhouse...but a cage! Cooper built Riley her own custom jail cell. Cooper was so anxious to trap her inside and lock her up. Why? Because she did not want Riley in her room!
So it starts. The battle over sacred ground that is called "my room" begins. What will it be like when they are teenagers? Will Cooper handcuff Riley up in her own room? Will she construct a more elaborate "booby trap?" Who knows. What I know is this...we are in for it.
Cooper was so proud of herself. She built Riley a "playhouse" in the middle of the living room. I have photos...
Take a good look. At first, it indeed appears to be a fun little play area. Look inside and you will see a toy basket filled with fun goodness for Riley to enjoy. It's not the inside...but the outside we should focus our attention to.
Notice the pillows? Notice walls all around? It's not a playhouse...but a cage! Cooper built Riley her own custom jail cell. Cooper was so anxious to trap her inside and lock her up. Why? Because she did not want Riley in her room!
So it starts. The battle over sacred ground that is called "my room" begins. What will it be like when they are teenagers? Will Cooper handcuff Riley up in her own room? Will she construct a more elaborate "booby trap?" Who knows. What I know is this...we are in for it.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
What the ???
So yesterday we had another milestone. Cooper has been battling a loose tooth for some time now. I think it started on Halloween when she bit into an evil piece of candy. She loosened a lower front tooth while attempting to enjoy the sugary goodness that is a candy necklace.
Well, time has gone on and she has grossed out everyone around us by walking up to them and casually looking up, proud of herself, and wiggling her tooth as if to say, "look how cool I am, my tooth can move." Sometimes, to add to the gross out factor, she would move it with her tongue.
On Saturday afternoon, we were all sitting on the couch. I had my head buried in the crossword puzzle from the paper. Cooper was sitting in the middle of the couch near Ashley. Ashley was doing something, but neither of us was directly paying attention to Cooper. So, out of no where we hear a loud, "what the..."
What the...what? No profanity laced tirades began. No jumping from the couch in agony and misery, and no theatrics. With just a simple "what the," her first tooth came popping out of her head. Cooper was so proud of herself and she sat there, staring at the tooth. Likely, she was contemplating how much money the now expected, and soon to be coming Tooth Fairy was going to give her in trade. By the way, what is the going rate for a baby tooth now? We have to figure it is her first missing tooth which I'm sure adds some value, and inflation over the last several years, coupled with the number of first teeth on the market. What, is a George Washington in order? I'm sure Cooper is looking to get a cool Abe Lincoln from the deal. Not the coin, but a five spot.
Now there is a gap where the baby tooth used to reside, a gap Cooper has now become accustomed to sticking her tongue through. No friends, there is nothing like a child walking up to you, looking up and sticking her tongue through a huge gap in her grill. Nice. I'm waiting for when she does it holding cash money and laughing.
That's the image I have. Cooper, in several hours, will be awake. Having discovered whatever cash has been paid to her she will run from the room, followed by her hair. It is crazy in the morning, remember. So she will run in clutching the dinero with wide eyes and wild hair mumbling something about free money for teeth. Were I not so tired, it would be comical.
I just hope that doesn't make her start yanking on all of her teeth at once to try to collect some cash. That would stink. I'm sure there has been a child somewhere that put it all together and figured he could get rich quick be snatching all his teeth baby teeth out to score some green. Note to Cooper...it won't work. You don't have the pain threshold. And the Tooth Fairy is on a budget so slow your roll.
Well, time has gone on and she has grossed out everyone around us by walking up to them and casually looking up, proud of herself, and wiggling her tooth as if to say, "look how cool I am, my tooth can move." Sometimes, to add to the gross out factor, she would move it with her tongue.
On Saturday afternoon, we were all sitting on the couch. I had my head buried in the crossword puzzle from the paper. Cooper was sitting in the middle of the couch near Ashley. Ashley was doing something, but neither of us was directly paying attention to Cooper. So, out of no where we hear a loud, "what the..."
What the...what? No profanity laced tirades began. No jumping from the couch in agony and misery, and no theatrics. With just a simple "what the," her first tooth came popping out of her head. Cooper was so proud of herself and she sat there, staring at the tooth. Likely, she was contemplating how much money the now expected, and soon to be coming Tooth Fairy was going to give her in trade. By the way, what is the going rate for a baby tooth now? We have to figure it is her first missing tooth which I'm sure adds some value, and inflation over the last several years, coupled with the number of first teeth on the market. What, is a George Washington in order? I'm sure Cooper is looking to get a cool Abe Lincoln from the deal. Not the coin, but a five spot.
Now there is a gap where the baby tooth used to reside, a gap Cooper has now become accustomed to sticking her tongue through. No friends, there is nothing like a child walking up to you, looking up and sticking her tongue through a huge gap in her grill. Nice. I'm waiting for when she does it holding cash money and laughing.
That's the image I have. Cooper, in several hours, will be awake. Having discovered whatever cash has been paid to her she will run from the room, followed by her hair. It is crazy in the morning, remember. So she will run in clutching the dinero with wide eyes and wild hair mumbling something about free money for teeth. Were I not so tired, it would be comical.
I just hope that doesn't make her start yanking on all of her teeth at once to try to collect some cash. That would stink. I'm sure there has been a child somewhere that put it all together and figured he could get rich quick be snatching all his teeth baby teeth out to score some green. Note to Cooper...it won't work. You don't have the pain threshold. And the Tooth Fairy is on a budget so slow your roll.
Friday, November 19, 2010
A Sad Day Indeed...
"In valor there is hope." - Tacitus
Today I went to a funeral for someone I didn't even know. I have already been asked, if I did not know him then why did I go? It is very simple. He would have gone if the situation was reversed.
It is not about knowing him. He was a brother in blue. No matter what department, or color of the uniform, we are members of a unique brotherhood and profession that I have the highest respect for. This job that we do can be one of the most exciting yet terrifying, funny yet saddening, gratifying yet demanding callings there is.
In this job we see the best, and the worst, in society. We deal with liars, dealers, and abusers, as well as those who cheat on, steal from, and beat on others. But we also see the Good Samaritans from time to time. We see someone wave at us while directing traffic and offer a bottle of water. We see those who go out of their way to assist another motorist for no reason other than to help. We also see the coming together of a brotherhood in times of loss and tragedy no matter who you work for, of where you work.
Yes, we are members of a unique brotherhood. We take care of our own. Trooper McDonald died in the service of his community. Someone called, and he went...no questions asked. He was committed to doing his job as well as he could. That commitment deserves respect and gratitude. Thank you for your service, sir.
Everyday law enforcement officers respond to calls for service, even at risk to themselves. If you know some of these folks...give them a hug, or a kind word. We may not always smile or be excited due to the day we may have had, but we will be grateful.
I don't usually write stuff like this, but I guess I felt I needed to. It is a sad day because we buried a brother. Everyone be safe...
Today I went to a funeral for someone I didn't even know. I have already been asked, if I did not know him then why did I go? It is very simple. He would have gone if the situation was reversed.
It is not about knowing him. He was a brother in blue. No matter what department, or color of the uniform, we are members of a unique brotherhood and profession that I have the highest respect for. This job that we do can be one of the most exciting yet terrifying, funny yet saddening, gratifying yet demanding callings there is.
In this job we see the best, and the worst, in society. We deal with liars, dealers, and abusers, as well as those who cheat on, steal from, and beat on others. But we also see the Good Samaritans from time to time. We see someone wave at us while directing traffic and offer a bottle of water. We see those who go out of their way to assist another motorist for no reason other than to help. We also see the coming together of a brotherhood in times of loss and tragedy no matter who you work for, of where you work.
Yes, we are members of a unique brotherhood. We take care of our own. Trooper McDonald died in the service of his community. Someone called, and he went...no questions asked. He was committed to doing his job as well as he could. That commitment deserves respect and gratitude. Thank you for your service, sir.
Everyday law enforcement officers respond to calls for service, even at risk to themselves. If you know some of these folks...give them a hug, or a kind word. We may not always smile or be excited due to the day we may have had, but we will be grateful.
I don't usually write stuff like this, but I guess I felt I needed to. It is a sad day because we buried a brother. Everyone be safe...
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Daddy's helper
It's funny how children always want to help. I can be cooking, sometimes cleaning, or getting Riley dressed. Cooper will want to help. There are sometimes when it is not safe to let her help, like when I'm cooking certain things. I mean, I don't want her to get a grease burn or anything from popping oil when I'm stirring jambalaya. But there other times when I want or need the assistance.
Take this morning for example. Cooper was awake and in her room. Yes, the bed head was in full effect. I went to Riley's room and got her up. Immediately I know a couple of things. First, she will be wet and quite possibly dirty. I think she weighed an extra few ounces when I picked her up. Second, Cooper will be in shortly to assist.
So I put Riley on her changing table and in walks "the hair." Riley is still waking up and Cooper wants to play. She starts looking in the dresser drawers for Riley's attire while I change the diaper.
I open the diaper...to a doo doo diaper. Cooper doesn't see it as she is busy coordinating her sister's wardrobe so I ask her to come help me. I ask her to take the doo doo diaper to the trash because let's face it...I didn't want to. When my siblings were younger, I had to throw away the doo doo, so why shoudn't my kids. With the most serious face she can make she pauses...looks at the diaper, then looks at me in the eye...and says, "I'm outta here."
She did not smile nor make a joke, but I had to laugh. I think it was the seriousness with which she made her refusal. Seconds earlier she was talking to Riley and laughing. Then, you would think I had just broken her favorite toy. She gave me a "oh no you didn't" look, like she could not believe I had just said that.
It must be nice to be able to be selective about what you help with. So, I finished changing the diaper and threw it away myself. The I realized, I was bested by a 5 year old because she looked cute and funny.
Take this morning for example. Cooper was awake and in her room. Yes, the bed head was in full effect. I went to Riley's room and got her up. Immediately I know a couple of things. First, she will be wet and quite possibly dirty. I think she weighed an extra few ounces when I picked her up. Second, Cooper will be in shortly to assist.
So I put Riley on her changing table and in walks "the hair." Riley is still waking up and Cooper wants to play. She starts looking in the dresser drawers for Riley's attire while I change the diaper.
I open the diaper...to a doo doo diaper. Cooper doesn't see it as she is busy coordinating her sister's wardrobe so I ask her to come help me. I ask her to take the doo doo diaper to the trash because let's face it...I didn't want to. When my siblings were younger, I had to throw away the doo doo, so why shoudn't my kids. With the most serious face she can make she pauses...looks at the diaper, then looks at me in the eye...and says, "I'm outta here."
She did not smile nor make a joke, but I had to laugh. I think it was the seriousness with which she made her refusal. Seconds earlier she was talking to Riley and laughing. Then, you would think I had just broken her favorite toy. She gave me a "oh no you didn't" look, like she could not believe I had just said that.
It must be nice to be able to be selective about what you help with. So, I finished changing the diaper and threw it away myself. The I realized, I was bested by a 5 year old because she looked cute and funny.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
As a father...
I always want these posts to be funny but sometimes it is just not there. Blank mind, no jokes or humorous stories. Sometimes, I got nothing. Today is one of those days. Parents with multiple children will get gut checked every so often. Today is that day for me.
As a father, I love my children. I love all of my children. We are a blended family. It is a case of mine, hers, and ours. Hannah is the oldest. She lives with her mother in California and is here every summer, with some other random days in between. Cooper is my step-daughter, although I rarely, if ever anymore, identify her as such. Riley is our newest addition.
As a father, I know that with multiple children there will be a natural competition for attention. I grew up the oldest of four kids. I know it happens. One child will at some point think that a parent loves one child more than another, or spends more time with another, especially with a baby in the house. We went through a short period where Cooper thought we liked Riley more than her. She saw us spending so much time taking care of her, but did not understand the necessity. The solution to that, I think, was to have her help us so she was included. Disaster averted and problem solved.
As a father, I know it is delicate balance, especially when all three girls are together. Each of my daughters are different. They have different personalities, different likes and dislikes, and different needs. It is a juggling act, to be sure. Hannah wants to watch Zach and Cody, and Cooper wants to watch Hannah Montana. Hannah wants to play Wii Sports, Cooper wants to play Wii Music. That is only the beginning. Wait until Riley is old enough to vocally state her wants and likes.
So today I feel like a complete failure, as a father. Here's where it gets depressing so stop reading if you want to stay happy.
Cooper told someone recently that she wished I called her a princess like her uncle calls her cousin, and wished I treated her the same as Hannah. Told you. You can stop reading now. How could I be so stupid? How could I allow such a thing to happen? How could one of my children think I loved her less than the others? Gut wrenching to say the least.
I love my girls. Should anyone dispute that I will gladly meet for a conversation. I would do anything for any one of them. Disrespect my children, we will discuss it. Hurt my children, that's your ass. I would die for them. The "them" equals Hannah, Cooper, and Riley.
Becoming a father is easy. Being a father is hard. Being a good father...well, I'm still learning.
As a father, I love my children. I love all of my children. We are a blended family. It is a case of mine, hers, and ours. Hannah is the oldest. She lives with her mother in California and is here every summer, with some other random days in between. Cooper is my step-daughter, although I rarely, if ever anymore, identify her as such. Riley is our newest addition.
As a father, I know that with multiple children there will be a natural competition for attention. I grew up the oldest of four kids. I know it happens. One child will at some point think that a parent loves one child more than another, or spends more time with another, especially with a baby in the house. We went through a short period where Cooper thought we liked Riley more than her. She saw us spending so much time taking care of her, but did not understand the necessity. The solution to that, I think, was to have her help us so she was included. Disaster averted and problem solved.
As a father, I know it is delicate balance, especially when all three girls are together. Each of my daughters are different. They have different personalities, different likes and dislikes, and different needs. It is a juggling act, to be sure. Hannah wants to watch Zach and Cody, and Cooper wants to watch Hannah Montana. Hannah wants to play Wii Sports, Cooper wants to play Wii Music. That is only the beginning. Wait until Riley is old enough to vocally state her wants and likes.
So today I feel like a complete failure, as a father. Here's where it gets depressing so stop reading if you want to stay happy.
Cooper told someone recently that she wished I called her a princess like her uncle calls her cousin, and wished I treated her the same as Hannah. Told you. You can stop reading now. How could I be so stupid? How could I allow such a thing to happen? How could one of my children think I loved her less than the others? Gut wrenching to say the least.
I love my girls. Should anyone dispute that I will gladly meet for a conversation. I would do anything for any one of them. Disrespect my children, we will discuss it. Hurt my children, that's your ass. I would die for them. The "them" equals Hannah, Cooper, and Riley.
Becoming a father is easy. Being a father is hard. Being a good father...well, I'm still learning.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Mahna Mahna...
So I remember watching the Muppets as a kid. Great stuff, right? As I got older I picked my favorite. The Swedish Chef, although unintelligible at times, extremely funny. He was not the handiest in the kitchen, but creative. I remember seeing one where he was making flap jacks and when flipping them he got them stuck on the ceiling. His solution...a Blunderbuss. Comedy. If you don't know what that is...think of a Pilgrim's musket.
It is a shame that The Muppet Show isn't on the air anymore, having been replaced by shows that are marketed for children...but clearly are not for them.
Then, there are Muppet videos on You Tube. Seeing some of the videos brought me back to childhood. Holy smokes. Then, ohhh, the Muppet Studios channel. Greatness...
So, I was watching the "Mahna Mahna" video one day on the computer while lying on the floor. Riley was playing nearby and heard the video playing. She is a fan. Arms go up in the air, bouncing up and down, and some singing ensued. No, not me...Riley. Well, I sang as she laughed.
I remember when children's television was simple, funny, and not questionable. No garbage, no Hannah Montana. Yes, I do not like that whole Hannah Montana thing. What sort of role model is that? True, television starts should not be our children's role models, but it happens, right?
Wanna know who my role model is...Animal. Think about it, he's a rock star drummer who is girl crazy. I wouldn't mind having his hair. Gotta love the Muppets...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NA90IlymdZ4
It is a shame that The Muppet Show isn't on the air anymore, having been replaced by shows that are marketed for children...but clearly are not for them.
Then, there are Muppet videos on You Tube. Seeing some of the videos brought me back to childhood. Holy smokes. Then, ohhh, the Muppet Studios channel. Greatness...
So, I was watching the "Mahna Mahna" video one day on the computer while lying on the floor. Riley was playing nearby and heard the video playing. She is a fan. Arms go up in the air, bouncing up and down, and some singing ensued. No, not me...Riley. Well, I sang as she laughed.
I remember when children's television was simple, funny, and not questionable. No garbage, no Hannah Montana. Yes, I do not like that whole Hannah Montana thing. What sort of role model is that? True, television starts should not be our children's role models, but it happens, right?
Wanna know who my role model is...Animal. Think about it, he's a rock star drummer who is girl crazy. I wouldn't mind having his hair. Gotta love the Muppets...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NA90IlymdZ4
Sunday, November 14, 2010
No easy way.
"Don't handicap your children by making their lives easy." - Robert A. Heinlein
I think my parents believed that line a little too much. Yes, I had a very good childhood. Then something happened. I became old enough to hold a broom.
I see too many kids (basically teenagers) today that want for nothing, and earn nothing. What they have is simply handed to them, making their lives easy. All it is doing is setting them up for a difficult life later. Parents give the excuse that "school their job." That's doo-doo. My siblings and I had no such luxury.
At the time, I hated doing chores. Let's face it, I still don't like them very much. Now of course, it is not called a "chore," and all husbands know this. It is now called a "honey-do." Some wife somewhere gave it a fancy name to make it sound better in order to trick her husband to doing work on his day off when he should be watching a ball game.
As much as I disliked chores, they were a necessary evil in our house. As soon as we were able, we had things to do. Dishes, garbage, dusting, vacuuming, and doing laundry. No matter what it was, we had to get it done. I am the oldest of four kids. There was no clean house. Our house was what was politely known as having a "lived in" look. That's what visitors called it anyway. That basically meant that there was generally some things laying around and our house was never sparkling clean. Three boys in the house. You think we had anything clean for more than several hours?
As I said, we had work to do. We cooked, cleaned, and did laundry. After all, we were manual laborers working off our debt to our parents for the expense of bringing us into the world. I think my youngest brother is still working off his balance. I think my three children already owe me about $100,000. Guess what they will be doing soon.
The whole time I was being put to work I just thought of it as punishment for something I may or may not have done. Actually, I was being taught something. I was being taught the value of work. My ingenious parents were actually not handing me a life, but helping me earn one. Whoa. That was one of the best lessons I learned growing up. Rest assured, my children will learn it too. My children will not grow up spoiled and expect everything to be handed to them. I won't make their lives so easy when they are younger that it will be extremely difficult when they become adults. Now, don't think I will be standing over them with a whip forcing them to hand wash my socks over a rock or anything. I simply mean that my children will develop a good work ethic and learn what it is to earn something.
So, I will be thinking of ways for my children to re-pay their debt to Ashley and I, and am in need of ideas. Let me know if you have anything new and innovative, and legal.
I think my parents believed that line a little too much. Yes, I had a very good childhood. Then something happened. I became old enough to hold a broom.
I see too many kids (basically teenagers) today that want for nothing, and earn nothing. What they have is simply handed to them, making their lives easy. All it is doing is setting them up for a difficult life later. Parents give the excuse that "school their job." That's doo-doo. My siblings and I had no such luxury.
At the time, I hated doing chores. Let's face it, I still don't like them very much. Now of course, it is not called a "chore," and all husbands know this. It is now called a "honey-do." Some wife somewhere gave it a fancy name to make it sound better in order to trick her husband to doing work on his day off when he should be watching a ball game.
As much as I disliked chores, they were a necessary evil in our house. As soon as we were able, we had things to do. Dishes, garbage, dusting, vacuuming, and doing laundry. No matter what it was, we had to get it done. I am the oldest of four kids. There was no clean house. Our house was what was politely known as having a "lived in" look. That's what visitors called it anyway. That basically meant that there was generally some things laying around and our house was never sparkling clean. Three boys in the house. You think we had anything clean for more than several hours?
As I said, we had work to do. We cooked, cleaned, and did laundry. After all, we were manual laborers working off our debt to our parents for the expense of bringing us into the world. I think my youngest brother is still working off his balance. I think my three children already owe me about $100,000. Guess what they will be doing soon.
The whole time I was being put to work I just thought of it as punishment for something I may or may not have done. Actually, I was being taught something. I was being taught the value of work. My ingenious parents were actually not handing me a life, but helping me earn one. Whoa. That was one of the best lessons I learned growing up. Rest assured, my children will learn it too. My children will not grow up spoiled and expect everything to be handed to them. I won't make their lives so easy when they are younger that it will be extremely difficult when they become adults. Now, don't think I will be standing over them with a whip forcing them to hand wash my socks over a rock or anything. I simply mean that my children will develop a good work ethic and learn what it is to earn something.
So, I will be thinking of ways for my children to re-pay their debt to Ashley and I, and am in need of ideas. Let me know if you have anything new and innovative, and legal.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
When am I old?
"Old is always fifteen years from now." - Bill Cosby
I hope that is true. That wouldn't make me old until 51. Today, I turned...36. Thirty-six is only old to teenagers and my wife. She reminds me all the time. The 3 at the beginning of that number doesn't look so bad, but the 6 at the end does. I'm over the thirty-five hump and one year closer to...I can't say it...fffforty. Whew, that was rough. I have gray hair, I'm almost forty. When does the mid-life crisis set in?
Some days I feel every bit of thirty-six. Others, not even close. There are days I feel like I did when I was eighteen. Eighteen was a good year. Lots of things changed. That is a lot better than feeling sixteen, let me tell you. I hated my high school years. You could not pay me to go back to high school. At sixteen, I was an insecure, acne-faced introvert. That made my life oh so wonderful as you can imagine. I remember high school being a time of sports, acne medications that did not work, and running away from attractive females I was too embarrassed to talk to. Yes, I remember their names, but they shall remain nameless. Oh, and big hair. Not mine, the girls. Although, I think my head was too big for my body during those years, and it could have been because of the satellite dishes I had on each side of my head. I think I finally grew into them.
At eighteen, there was no more acne, and no more introvert. How things changes in two very long and painful years. I was somewhat brave enough to talk to girls, who will still remain nameless. Of course, I still had many dateless weekends, but at least I was brave enough to ask. Eighteen was a happy time.
Now, I'm not saying I don't like my life now. I love it. I love my wife and family, and my career. Life is going good. I get to catch crooks every day. I think it's just that whole, "being on the other side of thirty-five" thing. That doesn't appeal to me, really. Being that close to the middle of my life is scary.
I know, there are people older than me who may be reading and thinking I'm whining or something. Of course I am. Because...I don't want to be as old as you! I don't want to get old. I don't want to deal with things old people deal with. What was that "Toys R Us" tag line? "I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid." That's me. I still have fun in that store. I love the Legos.
At some point I will be, "that old guy." Wait, I heard that from a teenager recently. Punk kid. Some days I feel old, especially when I say something like...turn the music down! Or, "don't make me come in there." There are plenty more, but I can't remember them. Wait, isn't memory the first thing to go? I forgot.
I hope that is true. That wouldn't make me old until 51. Today, I turned...36. Thirty-six is only old to teenagers and my wife. She reminds me all the time. The 3 at the beginning of that number doesn't look so bad, but the 6 at the end does. I'm over the thirty-five hump and one year closer to...I can't say it...fffforty. Whew, that was rough. I have gray hair, I'm almost forty. When does the mid-life crisis set in?
Some days I feel every bit of thirty-six. Others, not even close. There are days I feel like I did when I was eighteen. Eighteen was a good year. Lots of things changed. That is a lot better than feeling sixteen, let me tell you. I hated my high school years. You could not pay me to go back to high school. At sixteen, I was an insecure, acne-faced introvert. That made my life oh so wonderful as you can imagine. I remember high school being a time of sports, acne medications that did not work, and running away from attractive females I was too embarrassed to talk to. Yes, I remember their names, but they shall remain nameless. Oh, and big hair. Not mine, the girls. Although, I think my head was too big for my body during those years, and it could have been because of the satellite dishes I had on each side of my head. I think I finally grew into them.
At eighteen, there was no more acne, and no more introvert. How things changes in two very long and painful years. I was somewhat brave enough to talk to girls, who will still remain nameless. Of course, I still had many dateless weekends, but at least I was brave enough to ask. Eighteen was a happy time.
Now, I'm not saying I don't like my life now. I love it. I love my wife and family, and my career. Life is going good. I get to catch crooks every day. I think it's just that whole, "being on the other side of thirty-five" thing. That doesn't appeal to me, really. Being that close to the middle of my life is scary.
I know, there are people older than me who may be reading and thinking I'm whining or something. Of course I am. Because...I don't want to be as old as you! I don't want to get old. I don't want to deal with things old people deal with. What was that "Toys R Us" tag line? "I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid." That's me. I still have fun in that store. I love the Legos.
At some point I will be, "that old guy." Wait, I heard that from a teenager recently. Punk kid. Some days I feel old, especially when I say something like...turn the music down! Or, "don't make me come in there." There are plenty more, but I can't remember them. Wait, isn't memory the first thing to go? I forgot.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Dinner time...which would you prefer?
"My mother's menu consisted of two choices: Take it or leave it." - Buddy Hackett
Oh so true. Growing up my mother and father both cooked. Both of them cooked pretty well, for the most part. But no matter what we were having, there were always two choices...take it or leave it.
I remember being young and sitting at the table with both parents and all siblings. As good as that was, the menu was not always desired. I remember my mother always cooked the same thing on New Year's Day. She made black eyed peas and cabbage.
I was okay with black eyed peas. Cabbage however, no dice. There was one year, I must have been 13 or 14 years old, when my mother told me I couldn't get up from the table until I ate all of the cabbage and black eyed peas. Well, I ate all of the peas. That was no problem. But cabbage? It was a green pile of soggy, gross smelling foulness on my plate. Unfortunately there was no dog to feed it to. So, there I sat. I was all alone at the table...for about an hour. Then I realized no one was checking on me. So, I had an idea. All of the other plates were still on the table, probably because it was my turn to clean the kitchen. I decided that slowly, I would move one fork full of the nastiness from my plate onto the other plates.
Luckily, my ploy worked. Now, it could have been because I was so smart that out-foxed my parents. Or, it could have been that they just gave up on waiting and forgot about me sitting there alone. Either way I won, sort of. Because I had only eaten black-eyed peas, I was starving a little while later.
But that was how it was at our house. You ate what was fixed, or you did not eat. It you got hungry later...oh well. Sure, as we got older we had a little more of a say in the menu, but by then I was almost out of high school and starting college. By then, I had the freedom to eat somewhere else.
Looking back, I guess it really wasn't important what we ate at dinner time. What was important was the fact we all ate together around one table. Sharing dinner with the family was good times. When I got older I missed that. I never realized how important it was until we didn't do it anymore. As we all got older our schedules became so different. We all had one game or another. We had jobs or after school events. Dinner became an after thought.
Luckily, I am able to still do this with my family. When we cook a meal, we sit around the table to eat. Yes, we eat out sometimes. But we also cook at home a lot. When we do, we sit around the table, not in front of the idiot box in the living room. For those of you who do that...I'm not judging. We just prefer to sit at the table, maybe with some music in the background (ask my wife why.)
Actually, I will tell you. Anyone remember the Carl's Jr commercials? If you don't know what that is, it is a fast food burger joint. They had commercials that seemed to turn up the volume on people chewing their food. I cannot stand...no, let me re-phrase...I hate hearing people chewing. Holy smokes, that sound makes me cringe. I must have some noise to drown it out. It's like nails on a chalk board to me.
Anyway, we sit around talking a little, eating, and just enjoying several minutes of non-busyness, no matter which menu option is offered.
Oh so true. Growing up my mother and father both cooked. Both of them cooked pretty well, for the most part. But no matter what we were having, there were always two choices...take it or leave it.
I remember being young and sitting at the table with both parents and all siblings. As good as that was, the menu was not always desired. I remember my mother always cooked the same thing on New Year's Day. She made black eyed peas and cabbage.
I was okay with black eyed peas. Cabbage however, no dice. There was one year, I must have been 13 or 14 years old, when my mother told me I couldn't get up from the table until I ate all of the cabbage and black eyed peas. Well, I ate all of the peas. That was no problem. But cabbage? It was a green pile of soggy, gross smelling foulness on my plate. Unfortunately there was no dog to feed it to. So, there I sat. I was all alone at the table...for about an hour. Then I realized no one was checking on me. So, I had an idea. All of the other plates were still on the table, probably because it was my turn to clean the kitchen. I decided that slowly, I would move one fork full of the nastiness from my plate onto the other plates.
Luckily, my ploy worked. Now, it could have been because I was so smart that out-foxed my parents. Or, it could have been that they just gave up on waiting and forgot about me sitting there alone. Either way I won, sort of. Because I had only eaten black-eyed peas, I was starving a little while later.
But that was how it was at our house. You ate what was fixed, or you did not eat. It you got hungry later...oh well. Sure, as we got older we had a little more of a say in the menu, but by then I was almost out of high school and starting college. By then, I had the freedom to eat somewhere else.
Looking back, I guess it really wasn't important what we ate at dinner time. What was important was the fact we all ate together around one table. Sharing dinner with the family was good times. When I got older I missed that. I never realized how important it was until we didn't do it anymore. As we all got older our schedules became so different. We all had one game or another. We had jobs or after school events. Dinner became an after thought.
Luckily, I am able to still do this with my family. When we cook a meal, we sit around the table to eat. Yes, we eat out sometimes. But we also cook at home a lot. When we do, we sit around the table, not in front of the idiot box in the living room. For those of you who do that...I'm not judging. We just prefer to sit at the table, maybe with some music in the background (ask my wife why.)
Actually, I will tell you. Anyone remember the Carl's Jr commercials? If you don't know what that is, it is a fast food burger joint. They had commercials that seemed to turn up the volume on people chewing their food. I cannot stand...no, let me re-phrase...I hate hearing people chewing. Holy smokes, that sound makes me cringe. I must have some noise to drown it out. It's like nails on a chalk board to me.
Anyway, we sit around talking a little, eating, and just enjoying several minutes of non-busyness, no matter which menu option is offered.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
I'm serious...that's a lie.
"A person with no children says, 'Well I just love children,' and you say 'Why?' and they say, 'Because a child is so truthful, that's what I love about 'em - they tell the truth.' That's a lie, I've got five of 'em. The only time they tell the truth is if they're having pain." - Bill Cosby
Generally speaking children can be honest, when it suits them. So far, only two of my children are capable of telling lies. Riley can't even speak yet so we have more time before she learns the art of deception from her sisters.
I expect my children to lie to me at first. Sort of like a suspect at work. I arrested a guy one time with drugs on his person. This fool had felony narcotics in HIS shoe. When I found it, the first thing out of his mouth was "That's not mine." Really? Well, who would it belong to? Suspects always lie at first. So do children.
Here is an example. Of course, as always, I have plenty as any parent would. Hannah had an aquarium in her room when she was younger. It was only five gallons, but it was full of small tropical fish. I had a small can of fish food behind the tank and she helped me feed them nightly. Well, one night I went in to her room to feed the fish. There, floating across the top of the tank was a layer of multi-colored flakes. I don't mean a thin layer in one area. I mean a slab of flakes covered the tank from side to side. I asked the obvious question. What happened? Her response, "I don't know." I asked her if she fed the fish. She looked at the tank, looked at me, then back to the tank. Hannah then looked me in the face and said, "No" while shaking her head. Keep in mind, she was an only child at that time. I knew her mother and I did not feed them. So by process of elimination, she must have done it. She finally admitted it, realizing her error in judgment. But why lie? "I don't know." Stressful I tell you.
Some children, like adults, have "tells" when they lie. Cooper's is easy. Ashley and I know she is lying about something when she follows the statement with, "I'm serious." That is her dead giveaway. I could be color blind (which I am not), and she could hand me a red book and tell me it is green. The only way I would know she is lying is when she followed the statement with "I'm serious."
I said earlier that Riley would learn the are of deception from her sisters. But, maybe some of it is instinctive. It's like they know to lie, assuming it is for self-preservation. Maybe they think that the lie will get the out of the trouble. But does it? Of course not.
As a child I told my share. I remember having a friend's slingshot. Bad news for an 8 year old. I was walking down the street and saw a cat. You know where this is going. I decide in my infinite wisdom it is a good idea to try to shoot it with a small rock. So, I load the rock, pull it back and let it fly. It flew alright. It flew right past the cat and shattered a glass storm door. Imagine my surprise. I wasted no time in running to my house, through the back yard and into the garage. I was scared to death. Some time passed and everyone got home. There was a knock at the door and I knew it was about the shattered door. I did what I thought I could do, lie. Did you do it? No, sir. I thought I would get away with it. I didn't think about one key thing. Witnesses. Crap. The little old lady that lived across the street saw everything. I was done. I was asked, "why lie?" My response..."I don't know." I knew why, I didn't want a butt whooping, which I got anyway.
Unfortunately, my children will continue to lie, just as I did. I guess the parent's curse works. You know, the one where they tell you that they hope you have children that act just the way you act. It works.
Generally speaking children can be honest, when it suits them. So far, only two of my children are capable of telling lies. Riley can't even speak yet so we have more time before she learns the art of deception from her sisters.
I expect my children to lie to me at first. Sort of like a suspect at work. I arrested a guy one time with drugs on his person. This fool had felony narcotics in HIS shoe. When I found it, the first thing out of his mouth was "That's not mine." Really? Well, who would it belong to? Suspects always lie at first. So do children.
Here is an example. Of course, as always, I have plenty as any parent would. Hannah had an aquarium in her room when she was younger. It was only five gallons, but it was full of small tropical fish. I had a small can of fish food behind the tank and she helped me feed them nightly. Well, one night I went in to her room to feed the fish. There, floating across the top of the tank was a layer of multi-colored flakes. I don't mean a thin layer in one area. I mean a slab of flakes covered the tank from side to side. I asked the obvious question. What happened? Her response, "I don't know." I asked her if she fed the fish. She looked at the tank, looked at me, then back to the tank. Hannah then looked me in the face and said, "No" while shaking her head. Keep in mind, she was an only child at that time. I knew her mother and I did not feed them. So by process of elimination, she must have done it. She finally admitted it, realizing her error in judgment. But why lie? "I don't know." Stressful I tell you.
Some children, like adults, have "tells" when they lie. Cooper's is easy. Ashley and I know she is lying about something when she follows the statement with, "I'm serious." That is her dead giveaway. I could be color blind (which I am not), and she could hand me a red book and tell me it is green. The only way I would know she is lying is when she followed the statement with "I'm serious."
I said earlier that Riley would learn the are of deception from her sisters. But, maybe some of it is instinctive. It's like they know to lie, assuming it is for self-preservation. Maybe they think that the lie will get the out of the trouble. But does it? Of course not.
As a child I told my share. I remember having a friend's slingshot. Bad news for an 8 year old. I was walking down the street and saw a cat. You know where this is going. I decide in my infinite wisdom it is a good idea to try to shoot it with a small rock. So, I load the rock, pull it back and let it fly. It flew alright. It flew right past the cat and shattered a glass storm door. Imagine my surprise. I wasted no time in running to my house, through the back yard and into the garage. I was scared to death. Some time passed and everyone got home. There was a knock at the door and I knew it was about the shattered door. I did what I thought I could do, lie. Did you do it? No, sir. I thought I would get away with it. I didn't think about one key thing. Witnesses. Crap. The little old lady that lived across the street saw everything. I was done. I was asked, "why lie?" My response..."I don't know." I knew why, I didn't want a butt whooping, which I got anyway.
Unfortunately, my children will continue to lie, just as I did. I guess the parent's curse works. You know, the one where they tell you that they hope you have children that act just the way you act. It works.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Friend, or Parent?
"Children nowadays are tyrants. They contradict their parents, gobble their food and tyrannise their teachers." -Socrates.
So I went to bed and realized quickly that I would not be going to sleep anytime soon. I tried to get comfortable, rolled over and closed my eyes. Then, they popped open. Instead of continually turning over and waking up my exhausted wife, I got up. So here I am again, typing. Let's see what comes out.
Well, obviously some things don't change. Funny how even then children were seen as tyrants. Now, I am a parent that loves his children. But, there have been times when I thought my children were attempting to overthrow this house. Hannah and Cooper have attempted to run wild a time of two, (or three of four) and I can only imagine what it will be when Riley is added to the mix. If my wife and I are to overthrow the coups attempts, we need to act now. There will be three girls attempting to take over the house some time soon.
I can imagine it. Months of planning will go into it. They will all have their complaints. Riley will be the most hostile because we will be strictest on her. Well, daddy will be because I will have hopefully learned from my mistakes from the other two. But, I can imagine them huddled around a flashlight in the dark of the night wearing their matching pajamas Ashley will have probably bought them. That's how she rolls. Every year, there is matching pajamas for the girls. Except for the purpose of the meeting, it would look very cute. To tell the truth, they are already working towards it, just independently. Once they learn to pool their resources, we are in trouble.
Anyway, here is the not-so-funny part of this blog thing. It is sad how some children act today. I hope my children will not be that way. I hope they will not be "tyrants" like some others. In my profession I have to be many things. I have to be a law enforcer, counselor, problem solver, and at times, friend. It is amazing though how often the police are called to deal with "juvenile issues." I have had more than my share of calls where parents have asked me to fix a problem it took them fifteen years to create.
I have watched children disrespect their parents, call them names, and even curse them. Do you know what would have happened if I ever cursed my parents? I can honestly tell you...I would likely have been unconscious for several minutes due to the smack in the head.
Several months ago I responded to a call where a mother did not know what else to do but call the police. So, I show up and get the story. She tells me that her 16 year old son is out of control, disrespectful, and gets drunk. I show up and get face to face with a little thug wanna-be. he ended every sentence with "yo." I asked him for his name and his response was "Why do you need it, yo?"
So already, I know where this is going. At that age, had I been contacted by a 6'4, 230 pound cop, in my home...I would have had to change my pants. Of course, I had respect for adults, my parents, law enforcement, and the mail man. This little clown had no respect for anyone. I talked with mom about several issues, including how she and her husband disciplined the turd. What they told me was a common tale, unfortunately. Basically, they wanted to be his friends, and not his parents. Sad, really. There was no discipline. He was allowed to do what he wanted and now, they are surprised at how he acts.
I can assure you of one thing. My children receive discipline. My children receive structure. I am not their friend, but their father. If they misbehave, they will be corrected. It they do well, they will know that, too. But my children will not be tyrants who contradict us. My wife and I will raise our kids, not the school teachers or cops. Well, technically by one cop. Hopefully, this will head off any coups attempts for a while. Well, at least until they put me in the old-folks home, which they will likely do if my wife doesn't put me there first.
So I went to bed and realized quickly that I would not be going to sleep anytime soon. I tried to get comfortable, rolled over and closed my eyes. Then, they popped open. Instead of continually turning over and waking up my exhausted wife, I got up. So here I am again, typing. Let's see what comes out.
Well, obviously some things don't change. Funny how even then children were seen as tyrants. Now, I am a parent that loves his children. But, there have been times when I thought my children were attempting to overthrow this house. Hannah and Cooper have attempted to run wild a time of two, (or three of four) and I can only imagine what it will be when Riley is added to the mix. If my wife and I are to overthrow the coups attempts, we need to act now. There will be three girls attempting to take over the house some time soon.
I can imagine it. Months of planning will go into it. They will all have their complaints. Riley will be the most hostile because we will be strictest on her. Well, daddy will be because I will have hopefully learned from my mistakes from the other two. But, I can imagine them huddled around a flashlight in the dark of the night wearing their matching pajamas Ashley will have probably bought them. That's how she rolls. Every year, there is matching pajamas for the girls. Except for the purpose of the meeting, it would look very cute. To tell the truth, they are already working towards it, just independently. Once they learn to pool their resources, we are in trouble.
Anyway, here is the not-so-funny part of this blog thing. It is sad how some children act today. I hope my children will not be that way. I hope they will not be "tyrants" like some others. In my profession I have to be many things. I have to be a law enforcer, counselor, problem solver, and at times, friend. It is amazing though how often the police are called to deal with "juvenile issues." I have had more than my share of calls where parents have asked me to fix a problem it took them fifteen years to create.
I have watched children disrespect their parents, call them names, and even curse them. Do you know what would have happened if I ever cursed my parents? I can honestly tell you...I would likely have been unconscious for several minutes due to the smack in the head.
Several months ago I responded to a call where a mother did not know what else to do but call the police. So, I show up and get the story. She tells me that her 16 year old son is out of control, disrespectful, and gets drunk. I show up and get face to face with a little thug wanna-be. he ended every sentence with "yo." I asked him for his name and his response was "Why do you need it, yo?"
So already, I know where this is going. At that age, had I been contacted by a 6'4, 230 pound cop, in my home...I would have had to change my pants. Of course, I had respect for adults, my parents, law enforcement, and the mail man. This little clown had no respect for anyone. I talked with mom about several issues, including how she and her husband disciplined the turd. What they told me was a common tale, unfortunately. Basically, they wanted to be his friends, and not his parents. Sad, really. There was no discipline. He was allowed to do what he wanted and now, they are surprised at how he acts.
I can assure you of one thing. My children receive discipline. My children receive structure. I am not their friend, but their father. If they misbehave, they will be corrected. It they do well, they will know that, too. But my children will not be tyrants who contradict us. My wife and I will raise our kids, not the school teachers or cops. Well, technically by one cop. Hopefully, this will head off any coups attempts for a while. Well, at least until they put me in the old-folks home, which they will likely do if my wife doesn't put me there first.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Play time
"The essence of childhood, of course, is play, which my friends and I did endlessly on streets that we reluctantly shared with traffic." - Bill Cosby
So I definitely am a fan of the Cosby quotes, in case no one noticed. And I was asked how come I did not post anything this morning. So for all of my loyal readers, here you go. Actually, I only have one loyal reader and she's married to me. Anyway, I think she only reads it to be nice.
There are a lot of differences today compared to when I was a child. I remember being locked out of the house during the summer. The first time I think I was tricked. I am sure I was told to go outside and as soon as the door closed, it was locked. Now that could be so that my parents could have a few moments of quiet, or it could have been done to let us learn how to play. I could only imagine a parent doing that today. The child goes outside and the door locks behind him. The child realizes he has no electronics (iPods, etc) and begins to pound on the door begging to be let back in because he is lost and does not know what to do. I have one thing to say to that child...use your imagination.
One house I lived in had a dirt back yard. Yep, 75% of the yard was dirt. I remember having Tonka trucks. Now, I mean I had metal Tonka trucks. I had the real deal. With the dirt and several Tonka toys, I built a city. It was complete with streets and intersections, buildings and houses. Hours of fun was had. I remember standing outside and looking at the dirt. I thought of all the things I could do with...dirt. Building a city came to mind.
So, the only times I was aloud back inside were to go to the bathroom and eat. Even then, sometimes I could not even go in to go to the bathroom. Then, it was back out into the world. My friends and I could stay gone from morning to night. I played in the streets, in the neighbor's yards, and basically anywhere else I wanted.
My grandparents at one time had a house in a cul-de-sac. The other neighborhood kids, some of whom I went to school with, would play baseball in the street. I joined in the game and remember playing endlessly. We would hit, run, and slide in the street. Yes, you read correctly, slide in the street. I remember not even thinking about it while running to second base, which was a curb. The throw was coming in from the outfield (a neighbor's driveway), and instinctively I hit the deck. I was an all-out run and slid feet first into second. If course, since I was on pavement, I only slid about a foot and a half. And, I was safe! I was so happy about safely reaching second on a sliding double that I didn't even think about the pain I was in...FROM SLIDING ON THE STREET! What was I thinking?
I definitely was not worried about ruining clothes. Oh, and that is another difference. Play clothes for kids now fall apart after several good uses. I can testify to that as a parent. We wore the jeans from Sears that today could double as a bullet-proof vest. They would stand up to anything. And if you did tear them, mom just put a patch on it. I had several pairs of those jeans with multiple off-colored patches. We didn't care about fashion. We wore functional clothes. They don't have that today do they? Kids go outside (if they even go out) dressed like they are going to a party. And, what is the last thing parents say when the kid leaves the house? "Don't ruin those clothes!" Kids can't truly play under those circumstances. Sent them out in some ratty clothes with permission to do what they could to tear them up. As for my friends and I, we would see that as a challenge and do what we could to go home wearing shredded denim and cotton.
Actually, we played like that for years. We played outside free from all cares. We did not have to worry about food, a parent would throw a sandwich to us as though they were feeding a pack of wild dogs. We didn't care about being tired because we had endless energy. Just watching us would exhaust kids today.
We didn't have the electronics kids have today. We had Atari. Well, some had it. Those of us that did not made up games to play. We had water gun fights. Ohhh, that was the greatest. It the dead of summer we ran around shooting each other with water guns. I don't mean we had Super Soakers. No, we had squirt guns. One trigger pull equaled one squirt. That was truly up close and personal combat. Sometimes, we added extra artillery by throwing water balloons. We climbed trees to attack from an elevated position and set up ambushes. We were tactical giants, at least for a bunch of 9 year old kids. We had our own style of urban warfare.
Well, my kids are almost to the age where I can kick them out of the house and into the backyard for the summer. I could just throw Hannah and Cooper into some old clothes to destroy, give them some squirt guns and let them go at it. If I was feeling brave I could give them water balloons, too. No iPods, no Nintendos, just two $0.99 plastic squirt guns and an endless supply of water so they can learn how to truly play and explore.
So I definitely am a fan of the Cosby quotes, in case no one noticed. And I was asked how come I did not post anything this morning. So for all of my loyal readers, here you go. Actually, I only have one loyal reader and she's married to me. Anyway, I think she only reads it to be nice.
There are a lot of differences today compared to when I was a child. I remember being locked out of the house during the summer. The first time I think I was tricked. I am sure I was told to go outside and as soon as the door closed, it was locked. Now that could be so that my parents could have a few moments of quiet, or it could have been done to let us learn how to play. I could only imagine a parent doing that today. The child goes outside and the door locks behind him. The child realizes he has no electronics (iPods, etc) and begins to pound on the door begging to be let back in because he is lost and does not know what to do. I have one thing to say to that child...use your imagination.
One house I lived in had a dirt back yard. Yep, 75% of the yard was dirt. I remember having Tonka trucks. Now, I mean I had metal Tonka trucks. I had the real deal. With the dirt and several Tonka toys, I built a city. It was complete with streets and intersections, buildings and houses. Hours of fun was had. I remember standing outside and looking at the dirt. I thought of all the things I could do with...dirt. Building a city came to mind.
So, the only times I was aloud back inside were to go to the bathroom and eat. Even then, sometimes I could not even go in to go to the bathroom. Then, it was back out into the world. My friends and I could stay gone from morning to night. I played in the streets, in the neighbor's yards, and basically anywhere else I wanted.
My grandparents at one time had a house in a cul-de-sac. The other neighborhood kids, some of whom I went to school with, would play baseball in the street. I joined in the game and remember playing endlessly. We would hit, run, and slide in the street. Yes, you read correctly, slide in the street. I remember not even thinking about it while running to second base, which was a curb. The throw was coming in from the outfield (a neighbor's driveway), and instinctively I hit the deck. I was an all-out run and slid feet first into second. If course, since I was on pavement, I only slid about a foot and a half. And, I was safe! I was so happy about safely reaching second on a sliding double that I didn't even think about the pain I was in...FROM SLIDING ON THE STREET! What was I thinking?
I definitely was not worried about ruining clothes. Oh, and that is another difference. Play clothes for kids now fall apart after several good uses. I can testify to that as a parent. We wore the jeans from Sears that today could double as a bullet-proof vest. They would stand up to anything. And if you did tear them, mom just put a patch on it. I had several pairs of those jeans with multiple off-colored patches. We didn't care about fashion. We wore functional clothes. They don't have that today do they? Kids go outside (if they even go out) dressed like they are going to a party. And, what is the last thing parents say when the kid leaves the house? "Don't ruin those clothes!" Kids can't truly play under those circumstances. Sent them out in some ratty clothes with permission to do what they could to tear them up. As for my friends and I, we would see that as a challenge and do what we could to go home wearing shredded denim and cotton.
Actually, we played like that for years. We played outside free from all cares. We did not have to worry about food, a parent would throw a sandwich to us as though they were feeding a pack of wild dogs. We didn't care about being tired because we had endless energy. Just watching us would exhaust kids today.
We didn't have the electronics kids have today. We had Atari. Well, some had it. Those of us that did not made up games to play. We had water gun fights. Ohhh, that was the greatest. It the dead of summer we ran around shooting each other with water guns. I don't mean we had Super Soakers. No, we had squirt guns. One trigger pull equaled one squirt. That was truly up close and personal combat. Sometimes, we added extra artillery by throwing water balloons. We climbed trees to attack from an elevated position and set up ambushes. We were tactical giants, at least for a bunch of 9 year old kids. We had our own style of urban warfare.
Well, my kids are almost to the age where I can kick them out of the house and into the backyard for the summer. I could just throw Hannah and Cooper into some old clothes to destroy, give them some squirt guns and let them go at it. If I was feeling brave I could give them water balloons, too. No iPods, no Nintendos, just two $0.99 plastic squirt guns and an endless supply of water so they can learn how to truly play and explore.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
My Father, The Genius
"When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years."
-- Mark Twain.
I remember having a similar idea about my father during my adolescent years. At the time, like all adolescents, I knew everything. I was a genius and everyone else around me just did not know it. Of course it did not matter that I could barely do algebraic equations, but I was a genius. I knew how cows ate cabbage. I knew where to pick it up and put it down, although I am pretty sure I did not know what "it" was. In my own mind, I did not need the assistance of the old man because he didn't know anything. That is, unless it came to sports.
For years I thought my father only knew about one thing - baseball. If it did not have to do with a diamond, a bat, and a ball, he was ignorant and uninformed about it. My father played baseball in the St. Louis Cardinal organization. He played professional baseball back when Bob Gibson was the man. If you don't know who that is, he was the 1960's version of Cliff Lee. If you don't know that, look it up. When it came to girls, I knew that he had no clue about them. It didn't matter he was married to a woman that used to be a girl. He was absolutely clueless. School? I just knew he was uneducated so how could he advise me about anything related to education. Again, it was unimportant that he did go to college long before I was even a thought. I think you get the idea. To me, I was super-humanly intelligent and my father was super-humanly...not.
Then I became an adult. Harsh as it was, I learned quickly that I should have listened to my father. I realized he had likely forgotten more about surviving in this world than I would know. Then, I became a father. I learned how it was possible to love a child more than oneself. After that, I became humbled. I had come to realize that not only was my father not ignorant over the decade I spend as an adolescent, but he was in fact a genius. I understood all of the things he said that made no sense to me (at the time). Of course that was because I was not listening because I was the genius and he was not, and I knew better than him. I understood the lessons he so feebly attempted to teach his know-it-all, teenage, meat-head of a son.
I always said that if I ever wrote a book, I would title it "My Father Was a Genius." Why? Because he knew. He always had the answer and I just did not want to hear it from him. He knew that if I did not do homework I would not get the desired grade and more importantly, I would learn nothing. He knew that if I did not change the oil in my car, the engine would blow up (I wondered what that knocking sound was!). And he knew that if I was going to grow up to be a man, I would have to learn some lessons on my own. I was not trying to hear all of that at the time. Now, I understand.
I know a day will come when Hannah, Cooper, and Riley will view me as I did my father. I hope that they can read this and know that one day I will do something my father did not do, which is to remind them that all of the things I told them during their teenage years...were correct. And of course, me being me, I will revert back to my own adolescence and tell them, "I told you so, I told you so!" Well, I may not do that last part because that is just rude.
Seriously, I just want them to understand that daddy is not as dumb as he appears to be and everything I do is to help them learn and grow because I love them more than anything. Hey, maybe one day they will write about me being a genius. Well, most likely not.
-- Mark Twain.
I remember having a similar idea about my father during my adolescent years. At the time, like all adolescents, I knew everything. I was a genius and everyone else around me just did not know it. Of course it did not matter that I could barely do algebraic equations, but I was a genius. I knew how cows ate cabbage. I knew where to pick it up and put it down, although I am pretty sure I did not know what "it" was. In my own mind, I did not need the assistance of the old man because he didn't know anything. That is, unless it came to sports.
For years I thought my father only knew about one thing - baseball. If it did not have to do with a diamond, a bat, and a ball, he was ignorant and uninformed about it. My father played baseball in the St. Louis Cardinal organization. He played professional baseball back when Bob Gibson was the man. If you don't know who that is, he was the 1960's version of Cliff Lee. If you don't know that, look it up. When it came to girls, I knew that he had no clue about them. It didn't matter he was married to a woman that used to be a girl. He was absolutely clueless. School? I just knew he was uneducated so how could he advise me about anything related to education. Again, it was unimportant that he did go to college long before I was even a thought. I think you get the idea. To me, I was super-humanly intelligent and my father was super-humanly...not.
Then I became an adult. Harsh as it was, I learned quickly that I should have listened to my father. I realized he had likely forgotten more about surviving in this world than I would know. Then, I became a father. I learned how it was possible to love a child more than oneself. After that, I became humbled. I had come to realize that not only was my father not ignorant over the decade I spend as an adolescent, but he was in fact a genius. I understood all of the things he said that made no sense to me (at the time). Of course that was because I was not listening because I was the genius and he was not, and I knew better than him. I understood the lessons he so feebly attempted to teach his know-it-all, teenage, meat-head of a son.
I always said that if I ever wrote a book, I would title it "My Father Was a Genius." Why? Because he knew. He always had the answer and I just did not want to hear it from him. He knew that if I did not do homework I would not get the desired grade and more importantly, I would learn nothing. He knew that if I did not change the oil in my car, the engine would blow up (I wondered what that knocking sound was!). And he knew that if I was going to grow up to be a man, I would have to learn some lessons on my own. I was not trying to hear all of that at the time. Now, I understand.
I know a day will come when Hannah, Cooper, and Riley will view me as I did my father. I hope that they can read this and know that one day I will do something my father did not do, which is to remind them that all of the things I told them during their teenage years...were correct. And of course, me being me, I will revert back to my own adolescence and tell them, "I told you so, I told you so!" Well, I may not do that last part because that is just rude.
Seriously, I just want them to understand that daddy is not as dumb as he appears to be and everything I do is to help them learn and grow because I love them more than anything. Hey, maybe one day they will write about me being a genius. Well, most likely not.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
I don't know!
No quote today, I'm just going to jump right into this one...
Parents will relate a lot to this. All you non-parentals, don't forget that I warned you. Your time will come.
Recently I was cleaning the kitchen. Don't be surprised, I clean it all the time. I even cook. Sorry, I'm happily married. Anyway, I was cleaning the kitchen and Cooper was playing at the table. She was drawing, or writing, or something. The kitchen table where she was seated was less than 9 feet from where I was standing at the sink. I am in the same room with her as she inscribes her creative writing masterpiece using a "Sharpie" marker and a pink "Post-It" note. I complete my domestic chore and walk into the living room to sit down on the couch to watch an episode of a popular cop show that will remain nameless, but is filmed on location with the men and women of law enforcement. Incidentally, all suspects are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Hey, if you figured it out, I was only watching it for training to remind me of what not to do on a call. Don't hate on me.
So I am about to attempt to begin sitting comfortably and I hear, "Raaaayyyyyy, I'm thirsty." My back side was not even on the seat good and I was being summoned back to the kitchen. Ever seen someone start the motion of sitting down and immediately try to get back up? You know how ridiculous it looks when his arms start flapping to maintain balance? Well, that was me. Luckily no one else was in the room to make fun of how ridiculous I looked. Here is what I want to know. Why did she not ask me at any time during the 15 minutes I was standing a stones throw away from her? Oh wait, because she wasn't thirsty then, perhaps? Here is what Ashley would have said, "Really?" I was a bit more, well, vocal.
I ask Cooper as calmly as I possibly can, "Why did you not ask me while I was standing right there?" (as I point to the sink). Her response is so common I bet you all know what it is. Ready - all together - "I DON'T KNOW?" Those are the three most frustrating words a parent will hear, well, at least until the teenage years I bet. Why so frustrating? Because they are a response to everything. Why did you do that? I don't know. Where is your backpack? I don't know. How did my keys get stuck on the ceiling fan? I don't know.
Bill Cosby discussed the phenomenon revolving around the phrase, "I don't know." If memory serves me, he called it brain damage. Basically he said that if a child does something he knows not to do, then when asked why he did it responds by saying "I don't know," that is the brain damage. Now, in that example, Cooper did nothing wrong. That was just the lead in to the aforementioned phrase.
Here is an example from Hannah. She was about 3 years old at the time. I was working late and came home at around midnight. I was exhausted and ready to crawl into bed for a few hours of sleep. I walked in the door and into the living room. Now everyone in the house is asleep, or so I think. The house is dark and quiet. I walk into the living room and around the corner into the kitchen. Mid-stride I stopped dead and turned around. My laptop was laying on the kitchen table. In the darkness I could see a mound of white substance on top of the computer. No, not illegal narcotics. Yes, baby powder.
That's right. Hannah had gotten a jar of baby powder and attempted to create her masterpiece on top of my laptop. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see more white. I see white footprints on the carpet that trail from the kitchen table to the television, to the bedroom, to the bathroom, to the master bedroom. I see little white powder hand prints on the television screen. Picture it, a trail of white powder footprints and hand prints that circled the inside of the house. It was everywhere.
Then I see her. Hannah is looking so cute in her footed pajamas, except she is covered in powder. She is standing at the other end of the hall from me and we look like we are about to square off or something. I ask the seemingly obvious question, "What happened, Hannah?" Her response, "I DON'T KNOW?" I say, did you do this? She answers with a nod. I ask why. She says, "I DON'T KNOW?" Utterly frustrating. But looking back on it, it was a comical scene. Partially because the hand prints were obviously hers, but some of them were too high for her to place them while standing on the ground. I remember looking confused as to how some of them got as high on the walls as they did.
Cooper and Hannah use that phrase all of the time. Riley will likely be a master at it. My wife wonder's why I look confused all of the time. No one else knows anything, so, how can I? I ask her to join me in my state of confusion, but she never wants to.
Parents will relate a lot to this. All you non-parentals, don't forget that I warned you. Your time will come.
Recently I was cleaning the kitchen. Don't be surprised, I clean it all the time. I even cook. Sorry, I'm happily married. Anyway, I was cleaning the kitchen and Cooper was playing at the table. She was drawing, or writing, or something. The kitchen table where she was seated was less than 9 feet from where I was standing at the sink. I am in the same room with her as she inscribes her creative writing masterpiece using a "Sharpie" marker and a pink "Post-It" note. I complete my domestic chore and walk into the living room to sit down on the couch to watch an episode of a popular cop show that will remain nameless, but is filmed on location with the men and women of law enforcement. Incidentally, all suspects are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Hey, if you figured it out, I was only watching it for training to remind me of what not to do on a call. Don't hate on me.
So I am about to attempt to begin sitting comfortably and I hear, "Raaaayyyyyy, I'm thirsty." My back side was not even on the seat good and I was being summoned back to the kitchen. Ever seen someone start the motion of sitting down and immediately try to get back up? You know how ridiculous it looks when his arms start flapping to maintain balance? Well, that was me. Luckily no one else was in the room to make fun of how ridiculous I looked. Here is what I want to know. Why did she not ask me at any time during the 15 minutes I was standing a stones throw away from her? Oh wait, because she wasn't thirsty then, perhaps? Here is what Ashley would have said, "Really?" I was a bit more, well, vocal.
I ask Cooper as calmly as I possibly can, "Why did you not ask me while I was standing right there?" (as I point to the sink). Her response is so common I bet you all know what it is. Ready - all together - "I DON'T KNOW?" Those are the three most frustrating words a parent will hear, well, at least until the teenage years I bet. Why so frustrating? Because they are a response to everything. Why did you do that? I don't know. Where is your backpack? I don't know. How did my keys get stuck on the ceiling fan? I don't know.
Bill Cosby discussed the phenomenon revolving around the phrase, "I don't know." If memory serves me, he called it brain damage. Basically he said that if a child does something he knows not to do, then when asked why he did it responds by saying "I don't know," that is the brain damage. Now, in that example, Cooper did nothing wrong. That was just the lead in to the aforementioned phrase.
Here is an example from Hannah. She was about 3 years old at the time. I was working late and came home at around midnight. I was exhausted and ready to crawl into bed for a few hours of sleep. I walked in the door and into the living room. Now everyone in the house is asleep, or so I think. The house is dark and quiet. I walk into the living room and around the corner into the kitchen. Mid-stride I stopped dead and turned around. My laptop was laying on the kitchen table. In the darkness I could see a mound of white substance on top of the computer. No, not illegal narcotics. Yes, baby powder.
That's right. Hannah had gotten a jar of baby powder and attempted to create her masterpiece on top of my laptop. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see more white. I see white footprints on the carpet that trail from the kitchen table to the television, to the bedroom, to the bathroom, to the master bedroom. I see little white powder hand prints on the television screen. Picture it, a trail of white powder footprints and hand prints that circled the inside of the house. It was everywhere.
Then I see her. Hannah is looking so cute in her footed pajamas, except she is covered in powder. She is standing at the other end of the hall from me and we look like we are about to square off or something. I ask the seemingly obvious question, "What happened, Hannah?" Her response, "I DON'T KNOW?" I say, did you do this? She answers with a nod. I ask why. She says, "I DON'T KNOW?" Utterly frustrating. But looking back on it, it was a comical scene. Partially because the hand prints were obviously hers, but some of them were too high for her to place them while standing on the ground. I remember looking confused as to how some of them got as high on the walls as they did.
Cooper and Hannah use that phrase all of the time. Riley will likely be a master at it. My wife wonder's why I look confused all of the time. No one else knows anything, so, how can I? I ask her to join me in my state of confusion, but she never wants to.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Are You a Referee, Too?
"Having one child makes you a parent; having two you are a referee." - David Frost
If that is true, what does having three kids make you? Better yet, how about three daughters? I love my children dearly but I truly believe that before I can get them all out of the house, out of college, and married, they will drive me out of my mind. Think about it. I will be dealing with three adolescent females, one after the next, for over two decades. Lord help me...
Hannah is almost 9 years old. Within the next two years of so she will enter...I can barely bring myself to say it...adolescence. Wait, I need a tissue and to remind myself to breathe. Okay. Where was I, oh yes, adolescence. Beginning with her, I will be dealing with three daughters riding the emotional roller coaster, one right after the next, for over twenty years. There will be a time that they will all be there together. I suddenly feel light headed. Could be the fatigue from working all night, but I think not.
Wait, back to my original point. My children are 8, 5, and 8 months. Before Riley was born, yes, I was indeed a referee. During my days off and I was home with them, I only attempted to maintain control of the circus that was Hannah and Cooper playing together. Isn't that all a referee does anyway...maintain some sort of order amid the chaos? As long as they survived at the end of the day I was happy. Obviously, my expectations were not that great. I did not ask that they get along famously, hugging and singing songs. It did not bother me that each was not polite when requesting a toy or other trinket the other had. I was happy no one threw punches all while running around in circles screaming like banshees. No, I merely wanted them each not to plot the injury or death of the other. Some days I think we barely got there.
Then, we added a third player to the game that is childhood in the Scifres household. Luckily, I have a second referee in my wife. But then again, I do worry they will all try to drive her crazy before me. Let's face it, she has to put up with me first of all, and the poor dear spends more time with them alone that I do.
I think Riley and Cooper have a pact. I am sure the meeting took place in the wee hours of the morning while we were both attempting to regain our strength to battle another day. By the way, they still both wake up at the oddest hours during the night. Cooper sleep walks into our room and stands there...looking...waiting. Ashley wakes up and kindly sends her packing. One of those nights, did she conspire with Riley while they were both awake? I think so. I am certain that Cooper has convinced Riley to aid her in taking over this house. When Hannah gets back, they will all be in on it. They will first try to take out Ashley, again, because she is with them so much and her immune system will be diminished because of me and the unknown level of stress I cause. And, they already know the war tactic of divide and conquer. They will pull, dangle on, and stretch that last nerve of sanity that she is desperately going to try to hang on to.
Assuming she makes it, Ashley and I will be the referees in this house. Or, we will be whatever it is parents of three are called. A few words come to mind, some of which I cannot print due to the fact this is a family blog. Above all, I know this. We will be together. Because only together...can we defeat the onslaught that will be brought on my our lovely children in the game of "Us vs. Them." Power to the parents (or referees)!
A side note: I hope you who are reading this know that this truly is intended to be humorous. This is a little over the top of course, but only to be funny. So to my children who I hope will read this later in life...I love all three of you and I am looking forward to the years to come. There are a lot of experiences we all will share and I am excited to be a part of it all.
If that is true, what does having three kids make you? Better yet, how about three daughters? I love my children dearly but I truly believe that before I can get them all out of the house, out of college, and married, they will drive me out of my mind. Think about it. I will be dealing with three adolescent females, one after the next, for over two decades. Lord help me...
Hannah is almost 9 years old. Within the next two years of so she will enter...I can barely bring myself to say it...adolescence. Wait, I need a tissue and to remind myself to breathe. Okay. Where was I, oh yes, adolescence. Beginning with her, I will be dealing with three daughters riding the emotional roller coaster, one right after the next, for over twenty years. There will be a time that they will all be there together. I suddenly feel light headed. Could be the fatigue from working all night, but I think not.
Wait, back to my original point. My children are 8, 5, and 8 months. Before Riley was born, yes, I was indeed a referee. During my days off and I was home with them, I only attempted to maintain control of the circus that was Hannah and Cooper playing together. Isn't that all a referee does anyway...maintain some sort of order amid the chaos? As long as they survived at the end of the day I was happy. Obviously, my expectations were not that great. I did not ask that they get along famously, hugging and singing songs. It did not bother me that each was not polite when requesting a toy or other trinket the other had. I was happy no one threw punches all while running around in circles screaming like banshees. No, I merely wanted them each not to plot the injury or death of the other. Some days I think we barely got there.
Then, we added a third player to the game that is childhood in the Scifres household. Luckily, I have a second referee in my wife. But then again, I do worry they will all try to drive her crazy before me. Let's face it, she has to put up with me first of all, and the poor dear spends more time with them alone that I do.
I think Riley and Cooper have a pact. I am sure the meeting took place in the wee hours of the morning while we were both attempting to regain our strength to battle another day. By the way, they still both wake up at the oddest hours during the night. Cooper sleep walks into our room and stands there...looking...waiting. Ashley wakes up and kindly sends her packing. One of those nights, did she conspire with Riley while they were both awake? I think so. I am certain that Cooper has convinced Riley to aid her in taking over this house. When Hannah gets back, they will all be in on it. They will first try to take out Ashley, again, because she is with them so much and her immune system will be diminished because of me and the unknown level of stress I cause. And, they already know the war tactic of divide and conquer. They will pull, dangle on, and stretch that last nerve of sanity that she is desperately going to try to hang on to.
Assuming she makes it, Ashley and I will be the referees in this house. Or, we will be whatever it is parents of three are called. A few words come to mind, some of which I cannot print due to the fact this is a family blog. Above all, I know this. We will be together. Because only together...can we defeat the onslaught that will be brought on my our lovely children in the game of "Us vs. Them." Power to the parents (or referees)!
A side note: I hope you who are reading this know that this truly is intended to be humorous. This is a little over the top of course, but only to be funny. So to my children who I hope will read this later in life...I love all three of you and I am looking forward to the years to come. There are a lot of experiences we all will share and I am excited to be a part of it all.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Daily Battle
"The American father cannot be trusted to put together combinations of clothes. He is a man who was taught that the height of fashion was to wear two shoes that matched." - Bill Cosby
This quote is mainly for the mothers out there to read, especially my wife. As a father, I recognize my limitations. Dressing children, especially three daughters, is not my strong suit. If the other fathers out there are like me, then this applies to them, too. Yet, my parental duties require me to tackle this obstacle daily. Here is a synopsis of our daily battle. As you read you will understand why I say battle...
So, every morning I take Cooper to school. Cooper is in Kindergarten and her mother seems to believe she needs to dress at the height of fashion on a daily basis. She must go to school dressed to the nines with her "hair did." She also appears to be under the misconceived notion that I am fully capable of doing that. Now, with me being a man that keeps his hair short because I can barely keep it looking presentable; how can I be trusted to fix up Cooper's golden Shirley Temple locks? My fix most days is to stick her head under the faucet and pull it back into a pony tail. That I can do. Well, so long as Cooper lets me.
Every morning is the same thing. It actually reminds me of the story Bill Cosby tells in "Himself," that he called "The same thing happens every night." He tells of how each night his wife would tell their children the same thing each evening. He goes on to say that if the children would just listen to their mother there would be no beatings. Of course, they do not do what they are told, and the beatings begin. Now, children know there is a routine and it should be fairly simple to follow it. My children are no different.
I get Cooper clothes from her dresser. Now, Ashley has everything organized so she can find stuff. It is supposed to be helpful to me too, but I am a man who is afraid to dive into any female's wardrobe. My tired stupor makes it more difficult to find anything that matches. I remove a shirt and a pair of pants that in my blurred and no-fashion having vision looks okay. Later in the day however, I learn how bad of a job I did. There have been afternoons however that, when Ashley sees Cooper, she looked at me with absolute confusion as if to say, "Are you blind?" I do not dare respond if I know what is good for me. Granted, some of my fashion choices have been shall I say, ill-conceived. But hey, I am dad, right?
Each morning after I get Cooper dressed in the easiest clothing option I can find, I tell her to go to the bathroom so I can fix her hair. Here is where everything gets fun, sort of. Each morning she stomps from the living room to the bathroom with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Keep in mind that Monday through Friday...this is no surprise. It will happen without fail. But for some reason she seems surprised by my request.
I say, "Coop I got to fix your hair." She looks at me with tired eyeballs underneath the huge bed head nest on top of her head. Ever seen the old commercials from the 70's? Remember the hair styles were HUGE? Imagine Cooper...our fresh faced 5 year old...with a tangled, curled...actually, think Bride of Frankenstein, only blond and without the wavy white streak on both sides and no makeup. Huge hair. But I digress...
So, she throws her arms in the air, mumbles something about her mother, crosses her arms and stomps to the bathroom. I toss a towel over her shoulders while she is with all likelihood plotting my demise. While dunking her head in the stream of water, she cries. Every morning she cries. Not because I am drowning her, but because I am apparently insensitive to the fact I have my fingers tied up in the tangles. I then realize why she is crying and begin to feel bad. And so our day begins with trauma to Cooper and I both. I pull her up from the faucet and attempt to pull the brush through her now soaked, and still tangled hair. I manage to get her hair brushed and pull it back into a pony tail, which is all I know how to do.
A side note is needed. There are those probably wondering, "where is Riley during all of this?" Here is the funny part. Riley is dressed in a similar manner as Cooper, but with no hair to fix (thank you Lord). Riley is sitting on the floor right outside the bathroom...are you ready for this...laughing. I look at her with her one tooth blazing at me and think she is laughing at me. She realizes what Ashley does not want to realize. I am ill-equipped for the task at hand.
So, as a father that sends his child to school most mornings looking like, well, what Ashley describes as a "ragamuffin," I take solace in one thing. It is not my fault! No father can do it! If you think you can, be at my house at 6:30 AM tomorrow. Since I assume no one is going to show up, I will continue to do the best I can to no longer traumatize my daughter, and work towards improving my fashion eye.
Lord, help us all.
This quote is mainly for the mothers out there to read, especially my wife. As a father, I recognize my limitations. Dressing children, especially three daughters, is not my strong suit. If the other fathers out there are like me, then this applies to them, too. Yet, my parental duties require me to tackle this obstacle daily. Here is a synopsis of our daily battle. As you read you will understand why I say battle...
So, every morning I take Cooper to school. Cooper is in Kindergarten and her mother seems to believe she needs to dress at the height of fashion on a daily basis. She must go to school dressed to the nines with her "hair did." She also appears to be under the misconceived notion that I am fully capable of doing that. Now, with me being a man that keeps his hair short because I can barely keep it looking presentable; how can I be trusted to fix up Cooper's golden Shirley Temple locks? My fix most days is to stick her head under the faucet and pull it back into a pony tail. That I can do. Well, so long as Cooper lets me.
Every morning is the same thing. It actually reminds me of the story Bill Cosby tells in "Himself," that he called "The same thing happens every night." He tells of how each night his wife would tell their children the same thing each evening. He goes on to say that if the children would just listen to their mother there would be no beatings. Of course, they do not do what they are told, and the beatings begin. Now, children know there is a routine and it should be fairly simple to follow it. My children are no different.
I get Cooper clothes from her dresser. Now, Ashley has everything organized so she can find stuff. It is supposed to be helpful to me too, but I am a man who is afraid to dive into any female's wardrobe. My tired stupor makes it more difficult to find anything that matches. I remove a shirt and a pair of pants that in my blurred and no-fashion having vision looks okay. Later in the day however, I learn how bad of a job I did. There have been afternoons however that, when Ashley sees Cooper, she looked at me with absolute confusion as if to say, "Are you blind?" I do not dare respond if I know what is good for me. Granted, some of my fashion choices have been shall I say, ill-conceived. But hey, I am dad, right?
Each morning after I get Cooper dressed in the easiest clothing option I can find, I tell her to go to the bathroom so I can fix her hair. Here is where everything gets fun, sort of. Each morning she stomps from the living room to the bathroom with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Keep in mind that Monday through Friday...this is no surprise. It will happen without fail. But for some reason she seems surprised by my request.
I say, "Coop I got to fix your hair." She looks at me with tired eyeballs underneath the huge bed head nest on top of her head. Ever seen the old commercials from the 70's? Remember the hair styles were HUGE? Imagine Cooper...our fresh faced 5 year old...with a tangled, curled...actually, think Bride of Frankenstein, only blond and without the wavy white streak on both sides and no makeup. Huge hair. But I digress...
So, she throws her arms in the air, mumbles something about her mother, crosses her arms and stomps to the bathroom. I toss a towel over her shoulders while she is with all likelihood plotting my demise. While dunking her head in the stream of water, she cries. Every morning she cries. Not because I am drowning her, but because I am apparently insensitive to the fact I have my fingers tied up in the tangles. I then realize why she is crying and begin to feel bad. And so our day begins with trauma to Cooper and I both. I pull her up from the faucet and attempt to pull the brush through her now soaked, and still tangled hair. I manage to get her hair brushed and pull it back into a pony tail, which is all I know how to do.
A side note is needed. There are those probably wondering, "where is Riley during all of this?" Here is the funny part. Riley is dressed in a similar manner as Cooper, but with no hair to fix (thank you Lord). Riley is sitting on the floor right outside the bathroom...are you ready for this...laughing. I look at her with her one tooth blazing at me and think she is laughing at me. She realizes what Ashley does not want to realize. I am ill-equipped for the task at hand.
So, as a father that sends his child to school most mornings looking like, well, what Ashley describes as a "ragamuffin," I take solace in one thing. It is not my fault! No father can do it! If you think you can, be at my house at 6:30 AM tomorrow. Since I assume no one is going to show up, I will continue to do the best I can to no longer traumatize my daughter, and work towards improving my fashion eye.
Lord, help us all.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
What am I thankful for???
My wife is so much better at this blog thing than I am. Yes, I am thankful for many things. I am thankful for my God and the ability to freely worship him. I am thankful for my family, who are too many to name here. My wife, and all of my daughters, mean the world to me. I am thankful for the fantastic career I am fortunate to have (catching crooks is a wonderful thing).
With that said...I am thankful for a few more things. Two words, Chicken Spaghetti. It is a wonderful thing to enjoy this cheesy chicken and pasta goodness, especially the chicken spaghetti my wife makes from her grandmother's recipe. Football. I love the fall not because of the weather or that recently passed holiday where parents have their children dress up to go out and beg, but because of football. Wait while I wipe away the tear...
Oooohhhhhhhhh, and let me not forget...a venti Starbucks no foam Vanilla Latte. That sweet nectar is as addictive as crack man. You other Starbucks regulars know what I mean. There have been times I sneaked over to Starbucks on Milwaukee in Lubbock to smuggle in the caffeinated beverage. Shh, don't tell Ashley because she will be on to my habit. Gotta love it...
Seriously, I truly am thankful for many things. I have a wonderful family, immediate and extended, and amazing friends. Thank you, love you, and good night.
With that said...I am thankful for a few more things. Two words, Chicken Spaghetti. It is a wonderful thing to enjoy this cheesy chicken and pasta goodness, especially the chicken spaghetti my wife makes from her grandmother's recipe. Football. I love the fall not because of the weather or that recently passed holiday where parents have their children dress up to go out and beg, but because of football. Wait while I wipe away the tear...
Oooohhhhhhhhh, and let me not forget...a venti Starbucks no foam Vanilla Latte. That sweet nectar is as addictive as crack man. You other Starbucks regulars know what I mean. There have been times I sneaked over to Starbucks on Milwaukee in Lubbock to smuggle in the caffeinated beverage. Shh, don't tell Ashley because she will be on to my habit. Gotta love it...
Seriously, I truly am thankful for many things. I have a wonderful family, immediate and extended, and amazing friends. Thank you, love you, and good night.
Monday, November 1, 2010
To Be Thankful
So today I start my 30 days of what I am thankful for................
Nov. 1: I am thankful for my beautiful babies they are my greatest accomplishment in life (Ray has Hannah's Halloween pic, I'll get him to upload it tonight)
Nov. 2 : Today I am thankful for our right to choose! We are blessed to live in a democracy and If we want true "change" we must do our part to get out there and make it count.
Nov.3: I am thankful for fellowship with good friends, there is something very special about sitting down at a table spending time with together.
Nov. 4: Today I thank God for his amazing creation of life. Seeing my super tiny niece and nephew today I am reminded of his amazing power, his grace and how amazing our God really is!
Nov. 5: Today I am thankful for my job. I am so very thankful that they realize that my family comes first and had no problem letting me take a REALLY LONG lunch so I could have Thanksgiving with Cooper at her school. It means the world to me not to miss those "moments" in her life. I am blessed to work with amazing people and an amazing hospital!
Nov. 6: I am thankful for my family, today we had a somewhat impromptu get together at my grandparents for lunch. As I looked around the room I realized how amazing it is to be able to share that time together. Also for those of you that were there today I am so very thankful for the joy that a little fluffy dog brings to my Riley Grace! I have never seen a girl so happy, just glad Bear dog is still faster than her!!!
Nov. 7: Thankful for a fairly smooth time change transition. Although the ladies of the house arose at 5!!!! Time change is not child friendly I tell you, but after a few (4) cups of coffee we were fairly productive. I enjoyed snuggling and playing with the girls. And I am very thankful that it looks like Mike is ok! Thank goodness for the bye week!
Nov.8: I am thankful for the sound of laughter! It melts my heart to hear my girls giggle!
Nov. 9: Thankful for my husband who made all of Riley's baby food, dinner and cleaned up! I know it is a rarity to have a husband who does things like that!
Nov. 10: Thankful for my sweet sweet friends at work. They decorated my office and got a cookie cake for my last day! I am REALLY going to miss being with them everyday.
Nov.11: Thankful for coming home after a rough day. Time to relax and rejuvenate!!!
Nov.12: I am thankful for technology. While it does have it's bad points tonight I got to watch a Gateway church women's conference online! Yes sitting on my living room floor with baby toys and school papers all over I got to take a minute to fill my cup that is so very empty.
Nov. 13: Today I am thankful for my sweet husband. Today is his birthday and I am so very thankful he is in this world. Even when times are tough I know he is my soul mate and I couldn't live without him.
Nov. 14: Thankful for my husbands work family. We spent most of the evening with them and love everyone of them. Being a wife of someone in law enforcement it is a good thing to be with people who understand getting left in restaurants alone, one conversation taking several days to get through, and many more strange occurrences!
Nov.15th: Even know this job is totally and I mean TOTALLY stressing my out I am so happy to have a job to go to everyday!
Nov. 16th: Today I am thankful for Tanner Cook, today he showed me that my "problems" are not so bad and sometimes things really do happen for a reason even if you have to go to hell and back to find out what the reason was. And that God is in control and I am second
Nov.17th: I am thankful for all the support and love I have gotten from my friends and co-workers. This transition has been way harder than I thought it would be. I truly appreciate all the comments, cards and messages from everyone!
Nov.18th: Today I am thankful for my dad! He taught me how to change a tire, check my oil, take care of my bank accounts, and how to work hard. There are hundreds of more things but he really "prepared" me for life and for that I am so very grateful! Happy Birthday Dad!
Nov.19th: I am grateful for the brotherhood of law enforcement. Today a Trooper was laid to rest and hundreds if not thousands came to the funeral from all over the US. What an amazing thing!!!! While his wife and baby girl are living my worst nightmare I guess there is some peace in knowing how much support she has. I am thankful that my husband does all he can to be safe and come home to us every day.
Nov. 20th: I am thankful our besties Chris and Liz! They bring so much joy into our lives and so does their sweet baby boy Cason!
Nov. 21st: Thankful for our day at home, nothing to do, no where to be...........So AWESOME!
Nov. 22nd: Didn't realize I had gotten so behind! I am thankful that Cooper is doing better in school, we have gotten 4 greens in a row!!!!! You have no idea how happy that makes me.
Nov. 23rd: I was so very thankful for a smooth day at work, I think I'm finally starting to get this down and I feel so much better and less stressed! Thank you to Janet and Angelena for helping me out.
Nov. 24th: So happy I got to leave work a little early to run errands. Also, we got to decorate the Christmas tree last night! I love doing that all the memories that come up when I unwrap an ornament makes me so happy!
Nov.25th Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!!! So much for all of us to be thankful for we are in warm cozy homes and have a plethora of food. We should remembers those that don't today and do what we can to help!
Nov. 26th I am so happy to be at home with my kiddos although trying to be quiet while daddy is sleeping is VERY CHALLENGING!
Nov. 27th Thanksgiving #2 with the fam I am so very blessed to have all of them, it was an awesome day/night hanging out with everyone especially by brother and his wife from Austin were here and we got to spend LOTS of time together
Nov. 28th Can't believe this month is close to an end doing this Thankfulness blog has been a bit cathartic I really have so much to be thankful for I am so very very blessed
Nov. 29th Today I am thankful for my health and the health of my family. It can all be taken away in a moment and we really should cherish and make the most of every moment we have because we never know if it will be the last.
Nov.30th Well today is the last day. So many people posted this as the first thing they were thankful for and while it is number one I left it for last because, none of the things listed above would not be possible with out the undying love of our lord and savior Jesus Christ. Thank you for all you have given and even taken you are who I am most thankful for!
Nov. 1: I am thankful for my beautiful babies they are my greatest accomplishment in life (Ray has Hannah's Halloween pic, I'll get him to upload it tonight)
Nov. 2 : Today I am thankful for our right to choose! We are blessed to live in a democracy and If we want true "change" we must do our part to get out there and make it count.
Nov.3: I am thankful for fellowship with good friends, there is something very special about sitting down at a table spending time with together.
Nov. 4: Today I thank God for his amazing creation of life. Seeing my super tiny niece and nephew today I am reminded of his amazing power, his grace and how amazing our God really is!
Nov. 5: Today I am thankful for my job. I am so very thankful that they realize that my family comes first and had no problem letting me take a REALLY LONG lunch so I could have Thanksgiving with Cooper at her school. It means the world to me not to miss those "moments" in her life. I am blessed to work with amazing people and an amazing hospital!
Nov. 6: I am thankful for my family, today we had a somewhat impromptu get together at my grandparents for lunch. As I looked around the room I realized how amazing it is to be able to share that time together. Also for those of you that were there today I am so very thankful for the joy that a little fluffy dog brings to my Riley Grace! I have never seen a girl so happy, just glad Bear dog is still faster than her!!!
Nov. 7: Thankful for a fairly smooth time change transition. Although the ladies of the house arose at 5!!!! Time change is not child friendly I tell you, but after a few (4) cups of coffee we were fairly productive. I enjoyed snuggling and playing with the girls. And I am very thankful that it looks like Mike is ok! Thank goodness for the bye week!
Nov.8: I am thankful for the sound of laughter! It melts my heart to hear my girls giggle!
Nov. 9: Thankful for my husband who made all of Riley's baby food, dinner and cleaned up! I know it is a rarity to have a husband who does things like that!
Nov. 10: Thankful for my sweet sweet friends at work. They decorated my office and got a cookie cake for my last day! I am REALLY going to miss being with them everyday.
Nov.11: Thankful for coming home after a rough day. Time to relax and rejuvenate!!!
Nov.12: I am thankful for technology. While it does have it's bad points tonight I got to watch a Gateway church women's conference online! Yes sitting on my living room floor with baby toys and school papers all over I got to take a minute to fill my cup that is so very empty.
Nov. 13: Today I am thankful for my sweet husband. Today is his birthday and I am so very thankful he is in this world. Even when times are tough I know he is my soul mate and I couldn't live without him.
Nov. 14: Thankful for my husbands work family. We spent most of the evening with them and love everyone of them. Being a wife of someone in law enforcement it is a good thing to be with people who understand getting left in restaurants alone, one conversation taking several days to get through, and many more strange occurrences!
Nov.15th: Even know this job is totally and I mean TOTALLY stressing my out I am so happy to have a job to go to everyday!
Nov. 16th: Today I am thankful for Tanner Cook, today he showed me that my "problems" are not so bad and sometimes things really do happen for a reason even if you have to go to hell and back to find out what the reason was. And that God is in control and I am second
Nov.17th: I am thankful for all the support and love I have gotten from my friends and co-workers. This transition has been way harder than I thought it would be. I truly appreciate all the comments, cards and messages from everyone!
Nov.18th: Today I am thankful for my dad! He taught me how to change a tire, check my oil, take care of my bank accounts, and how to work hard. There are hundreds of more things but he really "prepared" me for life and for that I am so very grateful! Happy Birthday Dad!
Nov.19th: I am grateful for the brotherhood of law enforcement. Today a Trooper was laid to rest and hundreds if not thousands came to the funeral from all over the US. What an amazing thing!!!! While his wife and baby girl are living my worst nightmare I guess there is some peace in knowing how much support she has. I am thankful that my husband does all he can to be safe and come home to us every day.
Nov. 20th: I am thankful our besties Chris and Liz! They bring so much joy into our lives and so does their sweet baby boy Cason!
Nov. 21st: Thankful for our day at home, nothing to do, no where to be...........So AWESOME!
Nov. 22nd: Didn't realize I had gotten so behind! I am thankful that Cooper is doing better in school, we have gotten 4 greens in a row!!!!! You have no idea how happy that makes me.
Nov. 23rd: I was so very thankful for a smooth day at work, I think I'm finally starting to get this down and I feel so much better and less stressed! Thank you to Janet and Angelena for helping me out.
Nov. 24th: So happy I got to leave work a little early to run errands. Also, we got to decorate the Christmas tree last night! I love doing that all the memories that come up when I unwrap an ornament makes me so happy!
Nov.25th Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!!! So much for all of us to be thankful for we are in warm cozy homes and have a plethora of food. We should remembers those that don't today and do what we can to help!
Nov. 26th I am so happy to be at home with my kiddos although trying to be quiet while daddy is sleeping is VERY CHALLENGING!
Nov. 27th Thanksgiving #2 with the fam I am so very blessed to have all of them, it was an awesome day/night hanging out with everyone especially by brother and his wife from Austin were here and we got to spend LOTS of time together
Nov. 28th Can't believe this month is close to an end doing this Thankfulness blog has been a bit cathartic I really have so much to be thankful for I am so very very blessed
Nov. 29th Today I am thankful for my health and the health of my family. It can all be taken away in a moment and we really should cherish and make the most of every moment we have because we never know if it will be the last.
Nov.30th Well today is the last day. So many people posted this as the first thing they were thankful for and while it is number one I left it for last because, none of the things listed above would not be possible with out the undying love of our lord and savior Jesus Christ. Thank you for all you have given and even taken you are who I am most thankful for!
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