Recently, I visited my son at his preschool for “Daddy’s and Donuts Day”. This was a wonderful opportunity for me to squeeze my 6 foot, 200+ lb. frame onto a preschool sized chair and listen to our adorable children describe their daddy’s. You see, the school had them complete a form titled, “All About My Dad”. This was a fun activity as the teacher read the answers our children provided on this simple, fill in the blank form. The answers and how our children see us had the entire class laughing.
The form started with the simple question, “My daddy is ___ tall and weighs ____ pounds.” My son answered that I was 20 feet tall and weighed 30 pounds. This suggests that my son either views me as a bean stalk or he has no concept of height and weight.
He went on to say that he believed I was “17 years old”. My interpretation is that I still look like I am 17 years old.
My Dad’s favorite thing to eat is “Mac and cheese and everything” . . . well, that’s about right.
He likes to watch “football, baseball, hockey, and soccer” on TV. Not sure about the soccer, but I guess the rest is true.
My Dad’s favorite thing to do is “Walk”. Boy, did he swing and miss on this question. I think he is confusing my effort to run with walking, but that’s an easy mistake considering my slow pace . . . and I don’t “like” it.
I like it when he “Lets mommy drive the car”. Not sure where this one comes from, kind of makes me feel like a controlling husband. Do I force her into the passenger seat? Oh well, he’ll be easy to please in the future, “Here honey, why don’t you make your son happy and drive us to Mississippi, I’ll take a nap.”
Since “Daddy’s and Donuts Day,” he has graduated preschool (with a full graduation ceremony, including cap, gown, and diploma) and lost his first tooth. Fortunately, these two things are not directly related except the fact that they are major milestones for our first born. While mommy and daddy struggle to accept the pace at which our children’s lives move forward, my son summed it all best when he pulled his tooth out by himself in the backseat of the car, held it up in his hand and calmly said, “That was better than I thought.”
We could probably take his words to heart. My son will not always see me as a 20 foot tall, mac and cheese eating 17 year old, but today he does and that feels better than I thought.
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The early bird gets the worm . . . whatever.
The early bird gets the worm. Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Who said that junk? Seriously, who likes to get up early? I know, my grandfather, who was a farmer, did more before sunrise than most people do all day, but he also ate dinner at 4:00 p.m. and was in bed at 8:00 p.m.. That’s just not normal, besides, he missed all the good television shows! He would tell us he’d be up at the rooster’s crow, but I am not so sure the rooster was actually awake. In fact, I believe he went out and woke the rooster up and the rooster was probably saying the same thing I say now, “What are you doing up so early?!?!”
Now, if you are one of those people who gets up early every morning and watches the sun rise, I am impressed, in fact, I may envy you just a bit (a very small bit). Unfortunately, my wife and I aren’t exactly what you would describe as “morning people”. The only reason I get up before dawn is because I need to do it to stay employed and my wife, doesn’t really get going until she has that first cup of coffee.
Years ago, when we were newly married, we loved our Saturdays as they were reserved for sleeping in and eating a late breakfast. Then we had kids. Now, don’t for a second get me wrong, we absolutely love our children, no hesitation or doubt about it. I just have the ability to show them how much I love them a little better AFTER 9:00 a.m.
When they were first born, their sleeping habits were all over the place, and that is to be expected. I mean crying babies at 3:00 a.m. are something we were prepared for with newborns. The good news is, cribs today are generally created to prevent children from escaping. Which means, on any given Saturday morning, when a child in a crib wakes up pre-6:00 a.m., you can simply wait them out until they fall back asleep. Unfortunately, they eventually figure out that if they scream, “MOMMA!” for long enough, that someone will come (interpret “someone” as momma).
Also, somewhere along the line, the child outgrows the crib and moves into a bed where we, as parents, can no longer cage them in. This is when problems can develop for parents who prefer to sleep late. Our son, was a prime example. When he figured out his new found freedom, we had a 5:00 a.m. visitor to our room several days in a row, singing, “Good morning, good morning, good morning, good morning, to you and you and you!” (oh how I regretted teaching him that song!). Finally, a tired mother laid down the law - nobody gets out of bed before the sun gets out of bed. I think that is a policy that the whole world should adopt it. The world would probably be a happier and more peaceful place to live if we did.
Nonetheless, our children are consistent breakers of this policy. We’ve tried everything, including letting them stay up late the night before, in hopes of getting them tired enough to sleep late. Nonetheless, their little biological clocks tick on and they wake up happy excited to tackle the day. Maybe like my grandfather, they’ll get more done before dawn than most get done all day. Maybe they’ll get that proverbial worm . . . but then, who really wants a worm that early in the morning anyways?
Now, if you are one of those people who gets up early every morning and watches the sun rise, I am impressed, in fact, I may envy you just a bit (a very small bit). Unfortunately, my wife and I aren’t exactly what you would describe as “morning people”. The only reason I get up before dawn is because I need to do it to stay employed and my wife, doesn’t really get going until she has that first cup of coffee.
Years ago, when we were newly married, we loved our Saturdays as they were reserved for sleeping in and eating a late breakfast. Then we had kids. Now, don’t for a second get me wrong, we absolutely love our children, no hesitation or doubt about it. I just have the ability to show them how much I love them a little better AFTER 9:00 a.m.
When they were first born, their sleeping habits were all over the place, and that is to be expected. I mean crying babies at 3:00 a.m. are something we were prepared for with newborns. The good news is, cribs today are generally created to prevent children from escaping. Which means, on any given Saturday morning, when a child in a crib wakes up pre-6:00 a.m., you can simply wait them out until they fall back asleep. Unfortunately, they eventually figure out that if they scream, “MOMMA!” for long enough, that someone will come (interpret “someone” as momma).
Also, somewhere along the line, the child outgrows the crib and moves into a bed where we, as parents, can no longer cage them in. This is when problems can develop for parents who prefer to sleep late. Our son, was a prime example. When he figured out his new found freedom, we had a 5:00 a.m. visitor to our room several days in a row, singing, “Good morning, good morning, good morning, good morning, to you and you and you!” (oh how I regretted teaching him that song!). Finally, a tired mother laid down the law - nobody gets out of bed before the sun gets out of bed. I think that is a policy that the whole world should adopt it. The world would probably be a happier and more peaceful place to live if we did.
Nonetheless, our children are consistent breakers of this policy. We’ve tried everything, including letting them stay up late the night before, in hopes of getting them tired enough to sleep late. Nonetheless, their little biological clocks tick on and they wake up happy excited to tackle the day. Maybe like my grandfather, they’ll get more done before dawn than most get done all day. Maybe they’ll get that proverbial worm . . . but then, who really wants a worm that early in the morning anyways?
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Bend it like Beckham . . . or not.
Some friends and I were enjoying our weekly breakfast at one of our local “home cooking” establishments when a small boy, about two years old ran past our table. A young father cut him off before he could make a lap around the entire restaurant. Most of us sitting at the table, young fathers’ ourselves, could understand his challenge and in an effort to comfort the father, one of our group said, “At least he’s fast!”
The father responded, “I just want him to be good at something.”
We all laughed, but at the same time, we all understood. As a father, you simply want your children to be really good at something. Unfortunately, the law of averages suggests that most people are simply . . . well . . . average at most things. But that doesn’t stop us from searching. While we all might be average at most things, ultimately, we are all good at something. So we help our children search to find that thing they are good at.
Our family search recently landed on soccer. We signed my four year old up to play in a local soccer league. He was excited about the opportunity to run and kick, but a little unclear about the fundamentals of the game. The following events sum up his soccer experience.
After scoring his first goal of the game (in the right goal), the coach had placed our son in a defensive position, directly between the other team and the goal. He was excited about this opportunity; however, as the other team brought the ball down the field, our son was distracted by something on his hand. A girl who had an early growth spurt, was quickly approaching, controlling the ball like a seasoned professional, the only thing that could prevent her from scoring was our son. Unfortunately, despite the rising cheers from the parents in the stands, my son stayed focused on his hand and whatever sticky/dirty/gooey/bug had found itself there.
Initially, I thought this was the opportunity for my son to become the breakout soccer star I believed he could be. This was his opportunity to be “good” at something. However, as this girl with the soccer ball down bore down on his position on the field, I began to fear for his safety as the impact with a child twice his side would have been devastating (especially when he never saw it coming). Nonetheless, my son never glanced up and never moved. At the last moment, the girl shifted slightly and blew right by my son, within inches of running him over and scored a goal. Whatever was on my son’s hand must have been really cool, because as she sliced past him, he never flinched. It wasn’t till the cheers of the crowd erupted that he knew something was up and in response; he raised his hands as if he just scored the winning goal. I couldn’t help but laugh and celebrate with him.
When he got to the sideline, I asked him, “What’s on your hand?”
He simply said, “There is nothing on my hand, Daddy!”
Of course there wasn’t, why would I think there was anything on his hand?
So, he won’t bend it like Beckham just yet. But as a father, I need not fear, ALL children are good at something and my son, and the child in the restaurant, will find their something . . . even if it is running laps in a restaurant or finding cool dirt on your hands.
The father responded, “I just want him to be good at something.”
We all laughed, but at the same time, we all understood. As a father, you simply want your children to be really good at something. Unfortunately, the law of averages suggests that most people are simply . . . well . . . average at most things. But that doesn’t stop us from searching. While we all might be average at most things, ultimately, we are all good at something. So we help our children search to find that thing they are good at.
Our family search recently landed on soccer. We signed my four year old up to play in a local soccer league. He was excited about the opportunity to run and kick, but a little unclear about the fundamentals of the game. The following events sum up his soccer experience.
After scoring his first goal of the game (in the right goal), the coach had placed our son in a defensive position, directly between the other team and the goal. He was excited about this opportunity; however, as the other team brought the ball down the field, our son was distracted by something on his hand. A girl who had an early growth spurt, was quickly approaching, controlling the ball like a seasoned professional, the only thing that could prevent her from scoring was our son. Unfortunately, despite the rising cheers from the parents in the stands, my son stayed focused on his hand and whatever sticky/dirty/gooey/bug had found itself there.
Initially, I thought this was the opportunity for my son to become the breakout soccer star I believed he could be. This was his opportunity to be “good” at something. However, as this girl with the soccer ball down bore down on his position on the field, I began to fear for his safety as the impact with a child twice his side would have been devastating (especially when he never saw it coming). Nonetheless, my son never glanced up and never moved. At the last moment, the girl shifted slightly and blew right by my son, within inches of running him over and scored a goal. Whatever was on my son’s hand must have been really cool, because as she sliced past him, he never flinched. It wasn’t till the cheers of the crowd erupted that he knew something was up and in response; he raised his hands as if he just scored the winning goal. I couldn’t help but laugh and celebrate with him.
When he got to the sideline, I asked him, “What’s on your hand?”
He simply said, “There is nothing on my hand, Daddy!”
Of course there wasn’t, why would I think there was anything on his hand?
So, he won’t bend it like Beckham just yet. But as a father, I need not fear, ALL children are good at something and my son, and the child in the restaurant, will find their something . . . even if it is running laps in a restaurant or finding cool dirt on your hands.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
To Spank or Not to Spank, Part II
I was hesitant to write this column, but my wife challenged me, so here we are. I have an admission - I spanked my son for the first time this past week. Now I know what is going to happen, I am going to be inundated by throng of “I told you so” letters accusing me of being a hypocrite. As my readers may recall (all 6 or 7 of you), about 2 months ago I wrote a column that seemed to suggest that I believed spanking was wrong. Let me clarify my original point, I was not and am not opposed to spanking, I simply believe that every parent should determine what type of discipline is most effective for their own child and if lesser means are available and effective, than that is the path that should be chosen.
This week, my son chose not to travel the path of lesser means. He ended up getting himself a good ol’fashioned spanking – at church nonetheless (to paraphrase Proverbs, “spare the rod, spoil the child,” right?) My son is the light of my life, but this Sunday morning at church he must have experienced an eclipse. He was rude, defiant, and aggressive and the firm look, raised voice, and time out (my wife later suggested a time out in a crowded church lobby was probably not the best location – thanks honey) had no effect on my son’s strong will. I was left with nothing but the legendary trip to the bathroom. You all remember this trip from your childhood. The trip your parents had given you 10 warnings about and you dreaded the entire walk there, pleading with apologies and promises to not do whatever deed started this chain of events. My son had his first taste of this trip.
Once in the bathroom, my mind rushed to the research I had done and the number of articles, for and against spanking, that I had read. A couple points made a strong impression on me and guided me through this difficult process (the first time you spank your child is always the most traumatic – for both you and the child); 1. Never spank out of anger. I had to take a couple deep breathes and remind myself that I was doing this as a form of discipline – to help my son become a better child who understands limits, appropriate behavior, and consequences, 2. The goal is not to physically hurt your child, but to get their attention, or put an exclamation point on the lesson being taught. This one was easy; it was so hard for me that he probably barely felt the one whack I was able to muster. However, the emotional impact was clear – his feelings were hurt and he understood what had just happened, 3. Follow up with a clear explanation and an “I love you” so that the child understands you are not mad and your feelings for them have not changed.
When I was a child, I never believed the old saying, “this is going to hurt me more than it’ll hurt you,” but in this case it was true. A few minutes later, my son was well-behaved and looking forward to lunch, his Daddy was still upset. While this form of discipline certainly did work this time, it will always serve as my last option.
Matt Ryerson is the Vice President of Community Investment Strategies at the United Way of Bradley County. Matt’s column appears in the Cleveland Daily Banner every Wednesday. If you have questions or comments, please contact Matt at mryerson@unitedwaybc.com.
This week, my son chose not to travel the path of lesser means. He ended up getting himself a good ol’fashioned spanking – at church nonetheless (to paraphrase Proverbs, “spare the rod, spoil the child,” right?) My son is the light of my life, but this Sunday morning at church he must have experienced an eclipse. He was rude, defiant, and aggressive and the firm look, raised voice, and time out (my wife later suggested a time out in a crowded church lobby was probably not the best location – thanks honey) had no effect on my son’s strong will. I was left with nothing but the legendary trip to the bathroom. You all remember this trip from your childhood. The trip your parents had given you 10 warnings about and you dreaded the entire walk there, pleading with apologies and promises to not do whatever deed started this chain of events. My son had his first taste of this trip.
Once in the bathroom, my mind rushed to the research I had done and the number of articles, for and against spanking, that I had read. A couple points made a strong impression on me and guided me through this difficult process (the first time you spank your child is always the most traumatic – for both you and the child); 1. Never spank out of anger. I had to take a couple deep breathes and remind myself that I was doing this as a form of discipline – to help my son become a better child who understands limits, appropriate behavior, and consequences, 2. The goal is not to physically hurt your child, but to get their attention, or put an exclamation point on the lesson being taught. This one was easy; it was so hard for me that he probably barely felt the one whack I was able to muster. However, the emotional impact was clear – his feelings were hurt and he understood what had just happened, 3. Follow up with a clear explanation and an “I love you” so that the child understands you are not mad and your feelings for them have not changed.
When I was a child, I never believed the old saying, “this is going to hurt me more than it’ll hurt you,” but in this case it was true. A few minutes later, my son was well-behaved and looking forward to lunch, his Daddy was still upset. While this form of discipline certainly did work this time, it will always serve as my last option.
Matt Ryerson is the Vice President of Community Investment Strategies at the United Way of Bradley County. Matt’s column appears in the Cleveland Daily Banner every Wednesday. If you have questions or comments, please contact Matt at mryerson@unitedwaybc.com.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)