Tag: children

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Tracing Scars

It is late evening and we sit together on the couch — she fresh from the bath and in her footie pajamas, me in my voluminous robe. She climbs into my lap and I notice the heavy lids that presage a sleep so deep no one will be able to awaken her for hours, but … Continue reading Tracing Scars

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The F Word

GRADE_FI hear it everywhere, from on the streets, to at work, on television shows, and even from my own children. It’s pervasive in this culture, and I can’t stand it. Every single time I hear that word I want to scream because it’s probably the single most overused, and most incorrectly used, word in the language. When I was younger I used to use it to excess too, so I understand why it’s so widely used, but as I’ve gotten older it just grates on me and I want to say something every time I hear someone say it. The other day I was at work when a little kid was whining to her mom, and she said the F word. I wanted to say something to her, but her mother did it instead, explaining what that word really meant. I was proud of her; it’s not often that I hear anyone corrected for its use.

Then I told my seven-year old she couldn’t have her iPad this morning, and I heard it for the umpteenth time come out of her mouth.

“But Dad, it’s not FAIR!” she told me, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s not fair that some people don’t have anything to eat while others waste food,” I said. “It’s not fair that other kids don’t have an iPad and you do. You want to give them yours?” Continue reading “The F Word”

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Saying Hello

Every afternoon when it’s time to go, she’s does her rock star approximation, flashing that beautiful smile and waving at everyone. “Bye, Lisa,” and “Bye, Mike,” she says as she is escorted out of the building, with everyone excited that she decided to speak to them. I am that escort most days and I smile … Continue reading Saying Hello

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Spare the Rod

I am partial to spanking. Please don’t hit me for saying that, but it’s true. I mean, you know as well as I do that most people are forgetful, especially when it comes to things they don’t want to remember, especially kids. So, why not use the method most likely to get them to remember: the physical reminder? I learned from an early age to equate getting hit with having done something bad.

My childhood was memorable for many reasons, not the least of which were the spankings I received quickly and often. Both of my parents grew up in the school of “spare the rod and spoil the child.” In fact, I heard that exact phrase more times than I would care to admit. Of course, even when they weren’t beating me and I was well-behaved (admittedly not that often), I don’t think anyone would have classified my existence as spoiled. So, to me that didn’t fly, but it didn’t stop them from spanking me when I was bad.

There was a special science to spanking me, too. Continue reading “Spare the Rod”

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Friday Top 5: Rules of Play dating

When I was growing up, there weren’t such things as play dates. If you wanted to play with other kids it wasn’t as neatly wrapped up as your mom calling their mom and setting up a time for mutually beneficial social activity. We would go out on the street and see who else was out there. If you wanted to play the same game, it was on. If not, you compromised or went back inside. Simple as that.

So, when my seven-year old asks me if she can have a play date with one of her little friends, I’m about as lost with the concept as I can be, with trying to come up with activities for her and her friends. I rack my brains to come up with ideas for that mutually beneficial social activity, but I’m clueless. Being here is not quite like when I grew up on the streets of Philadelphia. The houses are farther apart, the kids are few and far between, and most play date mates need to either be driven to our house or we need to drive to theirs.

There are rules to play dates that I’ve noticed apply before the date even begins: Continue reading “Friday Top 5: Rules of Play dating”

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“I Do It!”: Potty Training and Patience

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My youngest peed on the couch today, and the war of potty training continues with her having won this round. I saw her wander out into the dining room, casual and unassuming, and then I noticed her rather wet-looking underpants, whereupon her older sister came out of the living room screaming, “Maddie peed on the couch! Maddie peed on the couch!” Now imagine the strangled cry of a cat whose tail has been stepped on and you’ll be able to envision my wife’s reaction to this shocking news. Needless to say it was not good.

What kills me is that sometimes she is good, very very good, when it comes to using the potty at the prescribed times and in the prescribed potty area. The potty area includes the toilet and its surrounding effects. It used to just be the toilet itself, but by the eighth time she used the floor directly in front of the toilet we acceded that area to her. There was no longer any use fighting it. At least she had held out long enough to be “almost” to the potty, so giving that to her was a win-win. What isn’t a win-win is when she refuses to tell us before she goes. Continue reading ““I Do It!”: Potty Training and Patience”