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Parenting Lesson of the Day (or Stupid Dad!)

Narration: [audio:http://realityme.net/wp-content/uploads/2007/12/parentinglessonoftheday21dec2007.mp3]

ClearRxTarget’s Pharmacy has this really cool medicine dispensing system called ClearRx™ created by a woman whose mother accidentally took her father’s medicine. We switched from our favored local pharmacy at CVS, where the employees were friendly and knew us by name, to Target’s pharmacy, where we are more of a number, specifically because of this product. Evan is fighting a sinus infection and was prescribed some antibiotics by the doctor. He has taken to liking them and tries to do it himself holding the syringe in his mouth but I still have to push the plunder. Now if you are a brain stud like me and decide to show your 2.5 year old child how the plunger on the syringe works, expect to be wearing the medicine!

I let Evan hold the dispenser in his right hand then showed him how to press the plunger with his left palm. His eyes widen as a gush of antibiotic rushed into his mouth. I leaned back with satisfaction as I waited for him to do it a second time completing his dosage. Trying to figure out what he just did, the syringe came out of his mouth and he stared at it not unlike the break he takes between squirts when I am dispensing it. Then I saw it! The gleam in his eyes. I watched as the upturned corners of his mouth meta morphed into a devilish grin. In slow motion I shouted, "NOOooooo!" as a fountain of pink fluid erupted into the air to the joyous cackling of a demented child with a devil on one shoulder patting his back and an angel on the other bound and gagged. A pink rain fell upon me! And, by the way, when your child does this, keep your mouth closed unless you want the chalky taste of artificial strawberry burned into your taste buds for the remainder of the day. Smooth.

I think I’ll go back to trying to get the hippie in my drain to leave.

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Too cool for warmth

The morning jacket report:

The kindergartener had tears this morning because she is attired in these cute blue jean pants with a matching shirt and matching hoodie jacket. But it is frigid outside so she was required to layer her winter coat. Dad, having not put coffee in his body yet, did not have the sense to suggest she put the hoodie in her backpack and wear the winter coat to school then switch. So, she cried because she was wearing a shirt, a lightweight jacket, and a winter coat and just knew her classmates were going to laugh at her because she was wearing two coats! Innocence lost at 5 years old?! At 5 we worry about how others perceive us?! I thought at 5 we just lived to play?

Middle schooler. Umm.. He and I were caught up in trying to solve the Rubik’s cube (which was first marketed when I was in the 6th grade! How circular! My best time ever was 25 seconds in math class.) so I’m not sure if he was even wearing clothing.

High school freshman. 1) Next time she tells me she "didn’t have time to brush her teeth" she can just miss the school bus! 2) She wore her jacket! But pranced off to school in short pants… I would have forced the tooth brushing issue but was too embarrassed at the thought of dropping her off in carpool.

The high school senior made guttural noises at me when I demanded he pick his coat up off the ground. I told him to wear it and he grunted and walked out the door carrying it in his hand.

And yes, I remember been too cool for warmth. Doesn’t change the fact that I’d like to seem them dress appropriately.

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The Boy With No Brain Meets Mr Freeze

It’s cold outside. I mean I can see my breath! Since the Boy Scouts are preparing for a winter camp we are talking about frost bite, hypothermia, layering and so forth. This past Monday, one of the adults experienced in winter camping came out in full cold weather attire and explained the importance of clothing, and layering clothing,to the scouts.

I need to start waking Amy earlier. Her morning tantrums over the wrong clothing being out made us miss the bus for a week. I think she is enjoying the carpool lobby but she also enjoyed the bus. After taking her to school this morning, I return in time to see the high schoolers making their way to the bus stop each wearing a thin shirt and for show they have their inadequate windbreakers on but not zipped declaring they are tool cool for warmth. It bugs me but they are old enough to both know better and to suffer the consequences. Then I catch the middle schooler shortcutting between two houses with no jacket at all! He just had the course Monday night on the importance of proper winter attire! On shout later and he is bee lining it back to the house. I catch him at the house for half a Reflection (that’s Boy Scoutese for socratic questioning) and half a lecture (I’m not real good at socratic questions). Then send him, wearing coat, running to the bus stop. I bet the coat does not come home.

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From the mouths of babes

So I pick Noah up from school and this cute girl calls out to him.

Dad: "Is that your girlfriend?"
Noah: "Well, sorta."
Dad: "What do you mean, sorta?"
Noah: "Well, she’s a girl. And we are friends."
Dad: "Are you sweet on each other?"
Noah: "Well, sorta."
Dad: "What do you mean, sorta?"
Noah: "Well, we like to talk a lot."
Dad: "Have you had sex education in school?"
Noah: "I think I missed that day."

I’m going to have a lot of illegitimate grandchildren…

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Your children will do mortifyingly stupid acts

Life is a comedy; And your children are the comedians!

The girls never do this. Several years ago we stood on a cold soccer field to watch our child play a team sport. The parents lined one side of the rectangular field and the coaches and children, who were not currently on the field, lined the other side of the field. There was a port-a-potty in the parking lot but the children found it easier to slip into the woods behind them when their tiny bladders needed relief. You would see a constant stream (pun intended) of traffic in and out of the woods. Now I have a child who excels at minimal effort. This child has taken, not laziness, but using the path of least resistance to an art form! So there we sit on the sidelines with the grandparents, our friends, neighbors, and strangers–perhaps 50-60 in all. My son is on the sidelines at exactly the halfway point of the field. He spins around and without taking a step whizzes into the weeds. Everyone on our side of the field is staring at him simply by nature of watching the game! They’d have to turn their chairs around to not see the golden arch emanating from my child’s crotch. Girls don’t do this! Or perhaps they do and are simply more subtle or I’m oblivious.

You would think over the years either my child or I would have learned. He continues to hone his least resistance skills constantly finding new ways to make the minimal effort. Mind you, that does not mean he does poor work.

Some people see Boy Scouts as a paramilitary, religious organization; I see Boy Scouts as a character building, skill teaching, adventure seeking organization. During our open and closings of our meetings, the adults line one wall and the scouts line another wall. That puts roughly 17-24 boys ranging from 11 to 18 years old facing 6-15 adults. We had good numbers at this last meeting and there is my son, on the fifty.

I’ll let you in on a male secret. Things shift. They shrink. They grow. They move around. They get pinched in the folds of underwear or find themselves in other uncomfortable places. Re-adjustment becomes necessary! And if pain is involved, sometimes, hastily. Just because "he" dresses right doesn’t mean he’s always dressed. Guys have developed techniques for dealing with these situations. Some blatantly grab the outside of their pants and adjust but try to cover by making a mafiosi, Eddie Murphy, or Michael Jackson reference. Most guys start of by trying some hands off, Elvis style hip shaking to see if things will naturally fall back into place. If both of these fail, we resort to using the pockets. The one pocket approach is typically fine but to be certain that the issue is resolved and resolved quickly, the two pocket approach is preferred. Both hands are shoved deeply into the pants pockets. This looks like we are simply cold and trying to warm our hands, and perhaps our elbows. Search and rescue teams are sent out and our friend in need is located. The hand who finds our friend quickly sets to work repositioning using a backboard if necessary. Typically we shoot for a centering then let gravity find the perfect resting place. The other hand lay in wait in case we overshoot or gravity finds us in another pinch. The whole process is about as subtle as Mark Roberts at Wembley. However, when done correctly, to an observer it should look like we’ve simply lost our keys.

During our Boy Scout meeting closing, solemn things are being said and I see my son do the double dive. Both hands in pockets. Bulging knuckles clearly removed from anywhere keys would fall. Oh no! He’s picked up the bat and is playing pocket ball with all adult eyes in his direction! Puberty has turned off his brain! Get the crash cart! I am fairly certain that when the Scout Master said to stand at attention that is not what he meant! What to do? Talk to all the Scouts about the 12 laws and how grabbing yourself in public probably breaks all of them? No. Must be more subtle. Telepathy! I give him a quick stare down and remarkably his eyes meet mine. It worked! My lecture about "happy time" being private silently permeated the air and he got the message. He removes his hands from his pockets and Dad pockets a story to pull out at dinner time which is guaranteed to have milk squirting from noses. Now how’s that lesson go? Oh yes, "if you shake it more than twice, you’re playing with it."

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Parenting – nothing harder

I woke up late this morning. Amy and I would have to leave in 2 minutes to catch the bus. Wasn’t going to happen but getting to school on time in the carpool would be no problem. Well, one would think. Amy and I could not agree on her outfit. Need a tough negotiator? Send in a 5 year old! My patience ended up being tried and lost. I was outwitted by a child and my primordial reaction was to get gruff, raise my voice, and shove her to the car. Bad dad. Of course, she needed clothing so I tossed her anything and declared, "go ahead. Look like a clown." Certainly not a tv dad today! Fortunately, Mom rose from the dead, fighting back her nausea, to save Amy. She gently helped her get attired in clothing Amy liked. She wiped her tears, gave her a hug, scowled at me, and we were on our way. Amy arrived at school 16 minutes late which in the grand scheme of things was not worth one ounce of the stress I caused this morning. Coincidentally, one of her teachers was in the office and cheerfully greeted her. After asking Amy if she was ready for fun gym, she escorted her to class. Please have a great day Amy. I’m going to start mine over.

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Should my feelings be hurt?

Should I celebrate my son’s confidence in himself or should my feelings be hurt? Every time a Boy Scout outing comes around, I ask my son, "do you want me to go on the outing?" You know.. maybe having dad around is uncool then again maybe having dad around is fun. His response? Flatly, "I don’t care." And he really means it. I’ve read about helicopter parenting and I don’t be that. I know as parent you can’t be the best friend either but I’d like us to have fun together. Don’t get me wrong, I think we have good times. I get excited about spending time with my children. I just wish they’d share some of the enthusiasm.

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And today started off so well…Now I’m seeing stars

I have been working a project that no person in their right mind would have accepted, particularly at the pittance of the budget alloted. It is a train wreck but today, after several hours of feeling like I was trying to fill the ocean with sand from the beach, I felt the train was back on the track! The client is in a timezone 7 hours ahead of me so I have to work furiously to have this done for their opening business day. Then I had a meeting to help the boy scouts plan for a high adventure trip next summer. During the meeting, at 4:30pm on a Sunday, I get a message that another parent has called my wife to consult on the 3-D solar system project that he knows all parents have probably been working so furiously on for the whole weekend (or longer). Solar system project?! To be built to scale! And with excellent report attached.

So, a pot of coffee brews as I tear the house up looking for objects that are to scale (a trip to AC Moore for Styrofoam would have been nice!) and watch the business day in my client’s timezone come ever so much nearer. Let’s go upstairs and figure out just what the world revolves around.