The Blockers

Ah, The Blockers, those pesky little mischievous "gremlins" that pop up from time-to-time and do nasty little things around the house.

Well, we have a house guest for a while, we'll call her "Coagulated Tree Sap" (CTS for short).  Well, CTS was going down to the basement to wash some clothes when she discovered the mess of all messes.  She saw an open paint can, and the contents all over the basement floor.

She called up to my wife, "Uh, I think we have a problem here!"

My wife came down, looked at the mess and started laughing (in order to keep from crying!)  That is when she started her investigation.

Who could have made this mess?

When was the mess made?

What was their motive?

Where was the mess made? (Obvious, she was looking at it.)

 

The mess was relatively fresh, probably within the last 1/2 hour or so.  The paint hadn't started to dry at all, so the clean up wasn't *that* difficult.

In light of that, Hurricane had been at the neighbors playing for a couple of hours.  So he could safely be eliminated as a culprit in this heinous crime.

Godzilla, though he has the ability to create mass destruction, was asleep in his crib at the time.   So, unless he was sleep walking, he could be absolved.

The adults of the house wouldn't have done that, so we were all eliminated from suspicion.

That left only one.

That left the Tornado.  Just like his namesake destruction was sown quickly and effectively.  However, because no one was there to witness the destruction, my wife couldn't "convict" him.

That is where I come in. 

The first words out of my wife's mouth as soon as I entered the house where, "Honey, Tornado painted the basement floor, but no one saw him do it.  Can you talk to him?"

I immediately went up stairs and put on my Good Cop/ Bad Cop face.  First I took the position of the good cop:

"Tornado, what happened down stairs?"

"Paint Spilled."

"Did you spill the paint?"

"No, Daddy"

"Do you know who spilled the paint?"

"Yes, Daddy"

"Um, could you please tell me who did it then?"

"The Blockers" -- ominous music started playing in the background.

"The Blockers?"

"Uh huh."

"Who are the blockers?"

"They're outside."

I looked out the back to where he was pointing.

"I don't see anyone outside, except mommy, and she's cooking on the grill and I know she didn't do it.  So what happened?"

"They hit me on the head."

"Oh, so they hit you on the head and then wen down and spilled the paint?" 

"Uh huh."

"Did you see the spill the paint?"

"Uh huh."

OK, I'd heard enough.

"Tornado, I know that the blockers didn't do this.  I know that you are lying to me and I'll give you one chance to tell me the truth.  If you tell me the truth, you will not be punished, but if you tell me the lie again, I'll be forced to discipline you.  Did you spill the paint?"

"No, Daddy, it was the blockers."

"Wait, hold on, maybe you didn't understand.  You will be punished if you lie to me and you will not be punished at all if you tell me the truth.  Did you spill the paint?"

"No, Daddy."

"OK, you're going to be punished."

He started running, I started after him.  He fell to the floor crying.  I asked again, "Did you spill the paint?"

"Yes, Daddy, I did it, it was me! **Sob**"

"Okay, Buddy, come here, you're not going to be punished, but you need to tell Mommy your sorry for making the mess, and tell her that you did it."

"OK, Mommy, I did it, I'm sorry."

 

Now, why am I telling this story?  First, because it's funny.  Well, at least it's funny when it's told, it doesn't translate as well when it's written.  However, there is a lesson in parenting here that I think is important.

The lesson is consistency.  Be consistent with your kids.  In how you treat them, how you discipline them and how you love them.  If they know that you mean what you say, you will never have to back it up.  I didn't have to punish him for doing the act.  He's a 3 year old boy, they make messes, it's what they do.  However, I couldn't tolerate the lying, that starts a habit that is hard to break, and one that he would pay for dearly later, had he been able to get away with the lie.

I would also like to add that I'm mighty impressed with the story that he came up with, it was quite ingenious.  For a 3 year old to weave that kind of story means that he's thinking and that impresses me, even when it's trying to get out of something.

Anyway, that is the story of the blockers.  I hope you enjoyed it.

Chucky Jesus

I've highlighted my oldest and my youngest kids in prior posts. Tonight I want to focus on my middle son.

Well, as you may recall I have nick names for my three sons. The Hurricane, The Tornado and Godzilla.

The Tornado is three years old and he is one of the funniest kids you'll ever meet. He's really noisy and actually has a pretty good singing voice for a three year old.

Tonight he came to me and asked, "Can we go to Chucky Jesus?" I was floored, I was like, "Where?" "Chucky Jesus", was his reply.

"Who is Chucky Jesus?", I said.

"Chucky Jesus."

"What do you want to do at Chucky Jesus'?"

"Play."

"Ok, But who is Chucky Jesus?"

"The Mouse."

It started to occur to me that he was talking about Chucky Cheeses.

"Ok, Tornado, do want to go to Chucky Cheeses?"

"Yes, Daddy. I want to play games."

Well, next weekend we will be going to visit the big rat and playing some games. I'm looking forward to it. It's a lot of fun to watch the natural disasters and Godzilla run around that place and have a blast.

Technokiddies

I love technology! I'm a tech junkie. I just wish my budget could keep up with my desire for new toys. Who knows, maybe some day.

Cell phones are wonderful inventions. They allow you to be connected virtually anywhere. If you're driving out in the middle of no where and your car breaks down, you don't have to wait for random stranger to take pity on you, you just ring up AAA and they'll come and rescue you.

The Hurricane is learning how to use the phone...

I'll let that hang out there for a second...

The Hurricane is learning how to use the phone, my wife's cell phone.

My wife's cell phone with me on speed dial #2. (#1 being the obligatory voice mail shortcut). I used to expect maybe one call a day from my wife. I also expected it to be her on the other end. Now when the name Jen pops up on my screen I have to ask myself, "Myself, is that Jen or is that the Hurricane?" Most of the time it will be... The Hurricane, just calling to say "Hi, Daddy". OR if he really wants to depress me, he says, "Hi, Dad."

First let me say this; what's up with this "Dad" stuff? He's my little boy, he's my baby, he's only supposed to call me Daddy! He's not supposed to be growing up, he's supposed to stay 5 forever, right!

Well, I know it will never happen, and he's going to grow up, but I don't have to be happy about it. Next thing you know he's going to be asking for the keys to the car to go on his first real date. I don't think I could handle that. It's not like I have girls and can at least place the fear of God Almighty in the boyfriends when they show up at the door.

I digress.

I'm glad my son loves me enough to want to talk to me regularly. That is important to me. It goes back to promises I made to my wife before we got married. I told her that I would never work a job that got in the way of my family. I would never be like my father, who I've never met, or like a lot of my friends fathers who they may as well have never met, because they were never home. I was determined that she would not be a work widow and my kids, when we had them, would know that their daddy loved them, not because of the money that the family had, but because I would take less money to spend time with them.

Now, even when I am at work and I'm away from them, the Hurricane calls me and lets me know that he misses me and loves me. THAT, my friends, makes every sacrifice I make in life for them worth everything.

Dive Deep!

Godzilla

As mentioned in other posts, I have three sons. In my last post I highlighted the personality of my oldest, and to a smaller degree my middle one.

Today, I want to introduce you to Godzilla, my youngest.

I have nicknames for all of my sons. They all are great boys, but they all can create their own unique brand of destruction. My oldest is the Hurricane. Sometimes when he walks into a perfectly clean room, with in seconds it can be destroyed. He bounces from thing to another as he reaps his destruction. He also loud and in your face, you know he's coming long before he gets there.

#2 is the tornado. He's a lot quieter than #1, for the most part. You may not hear him coming but when he wants to be destructive, watch out, he's just as destructive as the hurricane. Many times he's on the hurricanes heals to enhance the destruction that the both cause.

Now, this blog isn't about the natural disasters, this is about the baby. The bundle of sweetness that has been dubbed Godzilla.

Godzilla is a sweet boy. All three of my kids are. They all have wonderful personallities. This is not about their personalities. This about one part of their personalities that can be fun, but can also cause a headache. For the most part, they are fun.

Yesterday, my lovely wife was scrap booking with some friends. She suggested to me, in her sweet way, that I should take the boys out to eat at a particular restaraunt in the area that offers "Kids eat free" on Sundays. I thought to myself, "Myself? I could really go for a 10oz Mega Fish Sadwich with Tartar and Cocktail Sauce on a Chiabata roll." So I decided to undertake the endevour.

Let me say this, right up front. BIG mistake.

We get to the restaraunt and my oldest two, who have a pretty good grasp of the english language were told to behave and to help daddy out. They did. Afterall, this isn't a story about Hurricanes or Tornado's. However, the baby, who doesn't grasp the language yet and has a rather difficult time conveying what he wants due to the language barrier between babies and adults, didn't get the memo about behaving.

As soon as we sat down, the Godzilla roar began. He proceeded to grab silverware and play drums on the table. When I went to stop him, he just played drums on me until I was able to wrestle the silverware away. Which caused a crecendo in the Godzilla roar. (You wouldn't think that such a big noise could come from such a small body.) After, spilling his water, destroying the table and causing a ruckus you would not believe, the food finally arrived. He settle down long enough for me to strap him in the high chair and eat. There was a total of 4 minutes of bliss that allowed me to get his food prepared and eat my sandwich. Just as I was finishing up, he was finished with sitting, thus begins the roar again. At the same time I'm trying to pay the bill and my cell phone rings. I'm answering the phone, signing the check and getting Godzilla out of his high chair all at the same time. I think I grew an extra set of hands at the time, either that or I was actually loosing my mind.

Anyway, I usher the kids out to the minivan, get them strapped in to their car seets, and start down the road. I get about a mile down the road and check my wallet to make sure I grabbed the card that I had payed with, only to discover that I had left it at the restaraunt. I turned around, went back, parked the van and the waitress comes running out of the establishment (I think she was afraid I'd bring the kids back in.) She gave me my card, I appologized for the path of destruction left by Godzilla and I returned to the van. What did I find in the van? Godzilla, fast a sleep.

It was bliss! I had a little quiet for the rest of my journey, as the other two were not far behind him in slipping into oblivion.

Anyway, yesterday made me realize, I am not equiped to be a single parent and for those of you who are single parents with more than one child, God Bless You, you have the hardest job in the world. Keep up the good work.

Until next time,
Dive Deep!

Kids

I have three kids. My boys. They are 6, 3 and 1. Truly, I had never really known love until the first time I saw my oldest one. Kids are amazing.

My boys are funny, though. I think the best example of my kids happened about a year and a half ago.

We were hosting a foriegn exchange student. His name was Brian and he was from South Korea. He's a really great kid as well and we were blessed to have him in our house for the time that we had him.

Anyway, Brian was downstairs watching TV on a Saturday morning and my oldest decided that he was going to play a prank and get his younger brother in trouble. The baby wasn't born yet, but he was well on his way. My oldest went into Brians bedroom and found his wallet and threw everything in it all over the room.

Okay, that was step one in the master plan.

Step two was to set up the little brother. Remember, this is a 5 year old setting up his 2 year old brother.

My #2 was in their bedroom watching Polar Express with my wife. If you know nothing about my #2 know that he LOVES Polar Express. Anyway, #1 walks into the room and says "Hey #2, I want to show you something in Brians room." #2 wasn't going along with it, he wasn't leaving Polar Express, it was his favorite part, after all (The train was going over the ice covered lake, while they were trying to get back to the tracks to continue onto the north pole.)

Okay, Step 2 wasn't working out as well as he had planned. Hum, so do you think that would stop the plan? For an adult, it may have derailed them, but not for my 5 year old, he continued on the plan unabated. This let to Step #3.

Step #3, The Reveal.

He ran downstairs and said, "Brian, Brian, #2 went into your room and tore apart your wallet and threw it everywhere!"

Brian freaked out and ran upstairs. He was yelling, "#2, what did you do?!?!?!" He went into the room and saw the mess and was distressed.

My wife came out of the kids room to find out what was going on. Well, #1 started the story of how #2 went into the bedroom and tore everything apart.

This is when the holes in his plan started to fall apart. You see, #2 never left my wifes side and #1 ended up getting busted. I got involved when I got home a little later in the day. As my wife wove the story I couldn't stop laughing. Eventually I had to discipline him, and I had such a hard time doing it with a straight face, but I did it.

Turns out he wanted to be known as the "Good Boy", so if #2 where in trouble it would have made him look good. Flawed logic, but at least he had a thought process behind the chaos he created.

Don't get me wrong, all my kids are wonderful. And I think that as a parent we have to not take things too seriously, after all, there are very "kid" reasons that a kid does things. However, we also need to make sure that they understand when they have done things wrong.

Dive Deep!