Tag Archives: Father Knows Best

Parentgood

Clad Them in Bubble Wrap

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In among the many, many movie-related comments in Tuesday’s Movie Day post was this bit from Zee German, “I was trying to recall at what age I could really start roaming the neighborhood . . . probably 8-9-10 or somewhere in there.” A few people chimed in with thoughts, and it seemed to me there was more we could talk about in a dedicated FKB post.

As a parent of youngish kids (4.5 years and 1.5 years), I’m in the early stages of dealing with this stuff. So I guess I’m curious to know not just how much freedom people give their kids but also how they think about the question of how much freedom to give.

Not that long ago, Mr. NaCl and I had a . . . discussion (yeah, let’s call it that) about the jalapeño plugging in some Christmas lights. I thought it was completely fine. I mean, the jalapeño is certainly not timid, but neither is he a major risk taker. He’s also good about understanding rules about dangerous things and following those rules. But the mister obviously had a different opinion and thought it was just waaaaay to dangerous for a four-year-old kid to be having anything to do with an outlet.

Yesterday I came across a 2008 essay, "No-Man's-Land" by Eula Biss that addresses perceptions of safety, among other things. (Astute citizens may recognize Biss’s name; she the author of one of my favorite reads of 2014.)

Biss references The Culture of Fear by Barry Glassner:

Every society is threatened by a nearly infinite number of dangers, Glassner writes, but societies differ in what they choose to fear. Americans, interestingly, tend to be most preoccupied with those dangers that are among the least likely to cause us harm, while we ignore the problems that are hurting the greatest number of people. We suffer from a national confusion between true threats and imagined threats.

And also:

One of the paradoxes of our time is that the War on Terror has served mainly to reinforce a collective belief that maintaining the right amount of fear and suspicion will earn one safety. Fear is promoted by the government as a kind of policy. Fear is accepted, even among the best-educated people in this country, even among the professors with whom I work, as a kind of intelligence. And inspiring fear in others is often seen as neighborly and kindly, instead of being regarded as what my cousin recognized it for—a violence.

As it happens, this week Jane Brody has an article in the New York Times that ties in with all of this as well. It’s about Lenore Skenazy and a new tv show in which Skenazy works with overprotective parents to give their children a bit more freedom. The first episode is about a ten-year-old named Sam. His mother won’t let him ride a bike (“she’s afraid I’ll fall and get hurt”), cut up his own meat (“Mom thinks I’ll cut my fingers off”), or play “rough sports” like skating.

My heart kind of breaks for this kid. It's clear his mother loves him dearly and only wants to keep him safe. But by protecting him from all these perceived risks, what essential skills is she preventing him from acquiring?

Brody's article also includes the following quote from Dr. Peter Gray, author of the book Free to Learn: Why Unleashing the Instinct to Play Will Make Our Children Happier, More Self-Reliant, and Better Students for Life, “If children are not allowed to take routine risks, they’ll be less likely to be able to handle real risks when they do occur.”

As I’m sure is obvious to anyone still reading, I’m on the side of giving children more freedom rather than less. I want my kids to take risks, I want them to make mistakes, I want them to experience failure. That's not to say I'm going to teach them to swim by throwing them into the deep end of the pool. I want them to know I'll always be there for them, happy to offer support and guidance. But I also hope to give them opportunities, both big and small, to try out new things on their own and to develop the skills they'll need to one day navigate the world on their own.

The other day, the jalapeño dropped a raw egg on the kitchen floor. And that was okay with me. I had him help me clean it up, and afterward I asked him what he’d do differently the next time he was carrying an egg. He said he'd use two hands. That lesson was far more vivid than it would have been if I’d just followed him around calling out, “Be careful! Eggs can break! Don’t drop it!”

Well . . . I think that’s about enough from me. So what about you? How much freedom did you have as a kid? How much freedom do you give your own kids?

note: featured image is from a British ad campaign promoting a personal emergency service

Parentgood

Father Knows Best – Hard Conversations

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It's been a hell of a year. My wife's grandfather, my cousin's baby, and my sister all passed away. My mother-in-law has cancer (treatable, sounds like it'll be OK, but a couple scary weeks). I left my job. Oh, and we added a third child in May. Sorry for bringing all that up again... sometimes I feel like it's all I talk about.

I'm sure my kids wonder sometimes too. They've been exposed to some big things this year, and they ask some good questions. We've had to have a number of hard conversations with our kids - especially our 5 year old - about they way the world is, why things happen like they do, etc. We've tried not to shy away from the tough answers, but always try to keep a focus on the positive. I know sometimes we slip and give more trite responses, but usually we've done pretty well explaining birth (well, not so much the causes thereof...), death, employment stress, joblessness, etc. And they seem to have done a pretty good job with their processing of the information.

Through each of these moments, sharing the reality of the situation with my kids has helped me too. One of the things that made me feel best about losing my job was when I explained to my son that I had been unhappy working there, and so leaving it was a good thing. I let him know there might be some changes and stress around home, or that we might have to move when I find something (or, I suppose, if I don't find something) but that I would find a new job and we'd all be happier for it. He thought it sounded good, and came up with some of his own positives, like now I could spend more time helping him color.

When my sister died, he was at the hospital. He asked if he could go see her body, and we let him. There were a lot of questions for a few weeks, about life, death, and the afterlife. We're a family of faith, so we talked to him about heaven, letting him know that we don't really have any specific knowledge about it, but that we have faith God takes care of us. Every once in a while there's a new question that pops up - the other day it was about whether animals go to heaven - and so we can tell they're still processing all this information. Heck, I suppose I still am too.

I've wondered at times if I'm doing the right thing by having these conversations with my kids. My parents didn't peel back the curtain on adulthood nearly as early as we are. At the same time, I'm still trying to shield my kids from some of the more trying items, and focus on positive aspects. My hope is that my willingness to talk about big things with them - no matter how young they are - will help them be open with me too.

How about it, citizens? What's your approach to tough conversations with your kids? How did it change as they got older? I'm still stuck with pre-school kids, so I'd imagine school adds all sorts of wrinkles. How much is too much when they're so young? Where have I already gone wrong?

Also, I've been wanting to have these posts feature music that is played for kids. So here's one my favorites for my kids, and when it's your turn, you should share one too!

httpv://youtu.be/4EiU9pTweyw

Parentgood

Easy as ABC

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A is for: (a little) arrogant

I didn’t know much about babies before the jalapeno was born in 2010, but I thought I knew—in general terms—how I’d approach being a parent. All I had to do was follow the example of my own parents.

Growing up, I always felt that my sister and I were at the center of our parents’ lives. They worked hard at their jobs during the day, but on evenings and weekends they were supremely attentive to our needs, our activities, etc. Not to say we got everything we wanted—they were plenty firm about setting limits—but they always seemed to be focused on us. I wouldn’t say they were at the level of helicopter parents, but they were definitely very involved. I suppose I must have known that they theoretically had lives of their own, but that fact barely registered. My mom’s hobbies included things like going to church meetings and sewing clothes for my sister and me. My parents occasionally got a babysitter and went to the theater or the SPCO, but it was rare. All in all, everyone seemed pretty happy with this arrangement.

B is for: (lack of) balance

Fast forward to after the jalapeno was born. I went back to work when he was three months old. My general routine became: work (at a job I liked, fortunately), spend time with the jalapeno, dinner, tend to whatever chores needed to be done, collapse into bed at 9:00, dreading how often the jalapeno might wake during the night. Over time, his sleep improved somewhat (hello, sleep training) and I started working in occasional trips to the gym. I went online and read message boards where moms talked about their babies. Sometimes I found the energy to catch up with a friend or two via email. Once in a while, we made plans to get together with friends (who also had small children) on the weekends. But I rarely left the house other than to go to work or the gym.

In retrospect, this seems ridiculous. How could this setup possibly be a good idea? But I’m by nature an overachiever. I was trying to do everything “right” for my kid, but in doing so I was failing myself.

C is for: changes

Fast forward again to the present day. The jalapeno is 4 years old and the pepperoncino is 15 months. I’m still working full time (and fortunately still like my job). Life is chaotic, to say the least. In theory, I have less free time than ever, but I’m doing things differently now. Having gone through all the infant and toddler stuff once before, I know that many of the hard things are only temporary. I stay away from online discussions where moms compare and compete about what their children are doing and everyone knows what’s best for all babies everywhere. I’m also making time to do things that have nothing to do with my job or my children.

Get a last-minute chance to go to a Twins game on a beautiful day? Do it. Hear about a bizarre online game run by some guy who goes by a moniker that has to do with scary dairy products? Do it. Have a friend who wants to check out a new restaurant (sans kids)? Do it.

There are by no means enough hours in the day to do everything I’d like—for my job, for my kids, or for myself. But now that I’m no longer trying to be something that was making me miserable, I’m a lot better off, and I daresay my kids are better off as well.

Image credit: (cc) Michael Verhoef

Parentgood

Father Knows Best: Or Rather, Father Knows Little

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This edition of FKB will be advice free and more of a theraputic thing for me, I think.

Our first experience with a newborn was somewhat difficult, especially for new parents and someone like me who was previously against the idea of having kids at all. The reflux and the late night screaming was difficult to adjust to, and I struggled initially. But, in the end, and after the reflux diagnoses at about three months, we ended up with the best daughter ever. After that, it took me awhile to get into the idea of having another. My wife wanted one (with a reasonable separation between the two, though) but I just wasn't sure if I was ready for two or if it was a better idea to just be able to devote all of our attention to the wonderful little girl we had. Eventually, after hanging out with some of our friends with two kids and seeing that dynamic (all boys, but still) and remembering my own experiences growing up in a two child household, I decided I was ready for it.

Continue reading Father Knows Best: Or Rather, Father Knows Little →

Parentgood

Father Knows Best: Father’s Day

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It turns out I have the good fortune to write our Father Knows Best post the week after Father's Day.  I wish I could say this was well-planned on my part, but, like most of my parenting, I just sort of stumbled into it.  I wasn't entirely sure what to write about, but then my "kids" (Philosofette) wrote a whole bunch of post-it notes about the things I do for them and posted them all around our apartment.  It made me feel pretty awesome.  I'm going to use a couple of those notes to hit on some of the high points of my parenting.  Since, you know... they're few and far between. Continue reading Father Knows Best: Father’s Day →

Parentgood

3 + 1 = ?

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In the not-too-distant future, a new little Pepper will be joining our clan. The jalapeno will be almost 3 at that point. While in theory my recollections of the early days with him should have faded, I have a stubbornly keen memory and I remember in great detail just how difficult and overwhelming things were with him at first. (And this is despite having a normal/easy delivery and a healthy baby.)

After a full day of work and an evening of toddler wrangling, I often wonder what on earth we’re doing. On a rational level, we’ve always wanted two kids, the timing makes sense, and I think the jalapeno will make a great big brother. It’s just that in the short term, I feel like this is possibly insane. Continue reading 3 + 1 = ? →

Miscellaneous

Travelogue: The Calf’s First Twins Game

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Doug Fister

v

Brian Duensing

I had meant to share the story from my time next to the Twins bullpen last week in a Cup of Coffee but hadn't gotten a chance yet. Here are a couple of fun parts of the trip.

The herd and I arrived to the Twins/Indians game last week about an hour before first pitch. We left Buffalo around 7:30am for a 12:10 first pitch. The hope was that the Calf would get a little bit of sleep before the game during the 3.5 hour car trip as his usually nap time falls between 12:10pm and 3:00pm. Naturally, he finally fell asleep when we were about 30 minutes outside of Cleveland. This was not before he learned how to undue his car seat buckle though. Seriously, the calf is 18 months old. How did he figure out how these things work already? It took me about a week and a half before I figured how his car seat works. Anyway, onto the trip. I am going to share a couple of photos. Those who are friends with me on the internet may have seen some of these already but I will share again as I think they add to the story.

Believe it or not I haven't taken the Calf to see a Bisons game yet. For some reason I wanted his first game to be a Twins game. Thinking about it now it probably wasn't the best idea but he responded extremely well to the large crowd.


Continue reading Travelogue: The Calf’s First Twins Game →

Parentgood

Father Knows Best: Rockabye Baby! Lullaby Renditions of GWAR

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httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqxtaJfH7UA
(NSFW)

i think this is a conversation we've had here and there before, but i thought we might as well reprise it all in one place.

i try to get Famished Pete in front of speakers as much as possible. honestly, my classical and jazz aren't what they should be, but i know that's the best for him right now. at the same time, i try to mix in a bit more of the eclectic-though-hopefully-stimulating-and-baby-friendly, like joanna newsom, the decemberists, sufjan stevens, etc. for some reason, i've hesitated on pushing the straight rock/pop music until he gets a bit older, though i'll make exceptions for some of the classics. i've no real desire to feed him any of the straight childrens' music. i'm sure his mother and preschool will give him plenty of that without my help.

i guess the conversation i want to start here is the role of music in your children's lives, or perhaps the role it played in your own life as a child.

for my part, i've got total control right now, but as Pete grow up, he's obviously going to branch off on his own. i really don't want to push my tastes on him too much, but i still want to make sure he's not a fanboy of the next decade's linkin park's, nickelback's, or general grog of commercial crap. i'm sure it's going to be a fine balance.

my dad did a pretty good job with me, i think. he rarely pushed anything, though he gave some recommendations from time to time (i did pass on REO speedwagon). at the same time, he bit his tongue when a young joe occasionally brought home some god-awful crap. one of his best influences he had on me regarding that which was before my time, and i'll get into a little later why future generations could miss out on this, was his LP collection. it was down in the basement, and when i was a younger lad i would idly flip through it now and then. didn't really have much effect on me, though an interesting name or cover might inspire me try something out (like that plasmatics album my dad had for some reason; didn't take). then, i would hear a snippet of something or hear a band name and think, hey, dad's got that, and i would run home and pull it out. got into a lot of stuff i wouldn't have gotten into without that, which in turn lead me to many others i couldn't live without today.

after peckish jane's repeated nagging request, i recently put my large CD collection in storage temporarily as space is at a premium right now (i've still got books of CDs lying around, but i like having the CDs themselves out). it made me think that, what with everything moving over that digital horizon, kids aren't really going to get that opportunity as LPs, cassettes, CDs, physical music you can hold starts to disappear. sure, if they hear a name or song, they can have it on their phones in about ten seconds, but i still think they'll be missing out on something.

(quick aside: i am so pissed iPods didn't exist in high school for me. i was one of those kids that carried a 100 CD book around with them everywhere they went. also, i didn't have a car in high school, so this metro transit warrior often had to shuffle around his backpack and perform CD transplants with the discman while hurriedly speed walking to catch the 5. dropped and scratched a good number of CDs that way. come to think of it, i'm pissed CD-Rs weren't around then either.)

i'm not going anywhere in particular with this, just trying to start a few points of conversation. listening to and playing music was a huge part of my life, and i want Pete to enjoy it the same way i do, without shoving it down his throat. what do you play for your kids? what has surprised you about what they respond to? what was that band that came along, woke you up, and set you on the path to good music (cliché, but nirvana)? how did you react when your kid came home with an alto sax in 4th grade?

Parentgood

Papa Don’t Preach 7/7/11

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I have been a father for 5 months and 10 days. With that said I think it is fair for me to say that I am one of the least qualified people here to make any comments on parenting.  Then again for the past year, since we knew we were expecting, other people have been telling me how to raise my kid.

Those people really tick me off.  It is with that in mind that each time I am up to write a fatherhood column here on the WGOM  I will present something  I will do if I ever add to my herd. This will be directly influenced by what I did wrong with the Calf. So take my write ups to be what not to do with your children.

First off, I am going to see to it that our unborn child, herein known to as Kirby, sleeps in his crib from the first night. When the calf was born we weren't really sure where to put him down for sleep. All we knew that was wherever we laid him down he was going to wake up every two hours. So, we did what was easiest for us. Of the many hand me down baby items we received for the Calf he seemed to fall asleep best in his Calming Vibrations Chair.  So we set the chair up on the coffee table next to the couch in our living room and let him sleep there. Since he woke up every two hours anyway, I would just stay up until around 1am, wake up Ms Buffalo and then she would sleep on the couch, feeding him and changing his as necessary until around 6am when I would begin getting ready for work.  She would sneak in about a hour nap and then take care of him until I got home for work.  Rise, lather, repeat.

At about two months the Calf got a little bigger he began sleeping though the night-- assuming he was in his chair. I mean 10-12 hours straight though. After being awoken every two hours by a crying baby this was a revelation. We got to share a bed again. Now, we love our baby but it was nice to be able to snuggle up in our hay stack once again so we just let him stay in his chair. We didn't want to jinx it.

At around three months the Calf  kept growing, as children are wont to do. We commented on how he was getting bigger and bigger and before you know it he wouldn't be able to sleep in his chair much longer. We had a bassinet that we would try to put in our room but it just wouldn't take. He had to sleep in his chair. We joked about how he couldn't spend the rest of his life sleeping on a coffee table. Ms Buffalo thought this quip  to be especially funny because there may or not be a photograph of me in my early twenties sleeping on a coffee table.  Either way, we figured it was best to not ruin a good thing and we had better let him just sleep in his Calming Vibrations.  We did however take the batteries out of the chair. He didn't seem to mind and I was happy to not be spending money on batteries anymore.

When he crossed the four month barrier he was over two feet tall and closing in on 20 pounds. His chair is graded for 25 pounds so we were starting to get a little bit worried. We would give him his bath, feed him, put him down in his Calming No-Longer Vibrations Chair, let him get to sleep and try to carry him into the crib. This lasted for about three nights as we soon decided, screw it, let's just let him sleep in his stupid chair. I don't want to keep getting up out of bed.

5 months has now come and gone and the kid still won't sleep anywhere except this stupid chair. His butt is on the ground in it. It doesn't even bounce anymore. He has gotta be at least 22 pounds now and this chair is no longer practical for sleeping.

With that said I just spent the last four hours trying to get him to sleep in his crib before remembering that I had to write a a column about being a dad for the WGOM.  As you would imagine, I put him into his Calming- I Don't Vibrate, Bounce, or Do Anything Anymore- Chair and he fell right asleep. I am sure that he will sleep for the next 8 hours.

So remember above when I said other parents giving advice is a pain in my neck? Yeah, I take it all back. If anyone has any tips on how to make a kid sleep in his crib I am all ears.

Parentgood

Father Knows Best: A Fatherhood Story

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*It appears that the poster we lined up wasn't able to meet deadline. So, whether he knows it or not, JoePos will be our special guest writer today*

Throughout our cross-country move from Kansas City to Charlotte, friends have asked the same question again and again: How are the kids taking it? It's a thoughtful question, a heartfelt question, and I very much appreciate them asking. But, the truth is, they already know. They're taking it exactly like just about every kid who has ever moved. If there's one thing you can say about moving, it is that the feelings are universal ... and cliche-ridden. Just about every adult who has ever moved to a new place has felt overburdened and has promised themselves, at least on some level, to never move again. Just about every child who has moved has felt, at least on some level, like Ralph Macchio from The Karate Kid.

Our girls are 6 and 9 and, so, have been a spectacularly erratic bundle of emotions. This is particularly true of Elizabeth, the older one. One minute, she's excited about a new life. The next she's collapsed in tears. The next, she's talking giddy about the puppy we're going to get*. The next she's talking about how she will never have a happy thought for the rest of her life.

*Fathers are not above bribing daughters.
 
 

There are a million things that have jolted me about being a parent, of course, and one of those is the drama. Even as a kid, I thought those family sitcoms on television were overwrought, but as a parent I have found that LIFE seems to be overwrought. A disagreement at recess, a cross word on the school bus, a misunderstanding with a friend, all these turn into long conversations right out of the The Brady Bunch with the slow version of the theme song playing in the background.

 
 
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