I was at a barbeque last night, and was running around with my daughter. We saw a bug, so I reached down to pick it up and show it to her. She is not afraid of bugs. She's actually pretty fascinated by them. So I showed it to her and the other kids, and let it go. Later on I found a toad. I once again picked it up, to the protests of my wife, saying it would pee on me. I showed it to the kids and told them not to pick it up.
Of course the irony of this is that the first thing they will probably do, specially my daughter, is pick one up.
Kids, and adults for that matter, follow examples, not words. One of the main issues many people had with the Crocodile Hunter (RIP) was that he had to touch everything. Of course he would tell those at home not to grab animals, but he did so while holding one. So what did kids want to do? Be like the Croc Hunter, and off into the woods they'd go, looking for snakes to grab. This is how they get hurt. It was a small lesson I learned last night, but a very important one. If you don't want kids to touch something, do something, or go somewhere, you need to practice what you preach. I would really have no legs to stand on if my daughter got stung by a wasp and I asked her why she was playing with them.
"You play with bugs all the time!!"
Practice what you preach.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Follow through.
Was out and about yesterday, and saw a mother telling her daughter, who couldn't be more then a year and a half, not to do something. The little girl was trying to climb up on a small ledge to look at something, and the mother kept telling her not to. The little girl looked up at her mom, and climbed up on the ledge. The mother came over, took her by the hand, pulled her down, and set her on the floor. The little girl looked up at mom with a challenging look, got up, and climbed right back up on the ledge.
What did the mom do?
Rolled her eyes, shrugged her shoulders, and let her daughter have her way.
Something is wrong with this picture.
First off, who's in charge here? Apparently the little girl, since she did what she wanted.
Second, the mom made a tactical error. She didn't enforce her rule.
This may seem small and petty, but this eventually becomes a big problem. Some say it doesn't matter because the child is so small.
At what age does discipline begin?
People have a wrong impression when it comes to disciplining a child. It has nothing to do with hitting them or hurting them. If I were to narrow it down to one thing, the very essence, disciplining your child is to make them do what you want them to. If you tell them not to climb up on a ledge, then there is no way they should EVER climb up on that ledge.
No reason.
More then that, it is the parent's job to follow through on their word. If The mom told her daughter not to do something, the child needs to KNOW, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the mom meant business. What exactly should the mom have done? I can't say. There are many ways to handle the above situation. However, what she should NOT have done was given up. She basically told this one and a half year old that mom really had no authority over her, that all she can giv e is a "suggestion" and that she didn't really have to listen.
Growing up, I would never even THINK of answering my mother or father back, or not doing something they told me to do.
Did they hit me?
No. Hitting eventually loses it's effect because the children, who are always getting hurt anyway, will realize they can take it.
They followed through, from a very early age, on their word. If they told me to do something, they made sure I did it. If not, then they made sure I didn't.
The follow through. A very important, and often over looked aspect of raising kids.
What did the mom do?
Rolled her eyes, shrugged her shoulders, and let her daughter have her way.
Something is wrong with this picture.
First off, who's in charge here? Apparently the little girl, since she did what she wanted.
Second, the mom made a tactical error. She didn't enforce her rule.
This may seem small and petty, but this eventually becomes a big problem. Some say it doesn't matter because the child is so small.
At what age does discipline begin?
People have a wrong impression when it comes to disciplining a child. It has nothing to do with hitting them or hurting them. If I were to narrow it down to one thing, the very essence, disciplining your child is to make them do what you want them to. If you tell them not to climb up on a ledge, then there is no way they should EVER climb up on that ledge.
No reason.
More then that, it is the parent's job to follow through on their word. If The mom told her daughter not to do something, the child needs to KNOW, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the mom meant business. What exactly should the mom have done? I can't say. There are many ways to handle the above situation. However, what she should NOT have done was given up. She basically told this one and a half year old that mom really had no authority over her, that all she can giv e is a "suggestion" and that she didn't really have to listen.
Growing up, I would never even THINK of answering my mother or father back, or not doing something they told me to do.
Did they hit me?
No. Hitting eventually loses it's effect because the children, who are always getting hurt anyway, will realize they can take it.
They followed through, from a very early age, on their word. If they told me to do something, they made sure I did it. If not, then they made sure I didn't.
The follow through. A very important, and often over looked aspect of raising kids.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The drive home.
The single greatest, most life changing experience of my daughter's birth was the drive home.
Did I get into a car accident?
Did I get pulled over?
Did I win the lottery?
No.
I came to a realization.
I gained some interesting insights during my wife's pregnancy. My normally placid, good natured, smiling wife was also a schitzophrenic. At least that's what I thought, based on all the mood swings she would go through. Also, she could eat a lot. Let me re-emphasis that. She could eat A-L0T!!! I remember her waddling out of a gas station quickie mart with a HUGE bag of potato chips, a HUGE jar of salsa, and sporting the biggest, most excited smile I have ever seen. You'd have thought she had found the lost city of gold itself!!!
However, the biggest realization I came upon was that I didn't know this child in my wife's womb. I had no connection to it, no bond, no anything. I mean, I knew it was mine.... but what does that mean? I had no real affection towards it in the least. My wife had bonded with it for nine months. She felt it grow, move, kick, etc. I felt nothing. Come delivery time, I was more concerned that my wife make it out in one piece.
After my daughter was born, i felt terrible. I was holding her, and she was adorable, but.... where was the magic that all father's spoke about? Where were the tears? Where was the love? She looked like me, closed her eyes like me, had the same hair color as me. She had all the positive features of my face, yet I had no recognition of her. My wife took to her right away, why couldn't I? I resigned myself to the fact that it would all come with time. I was beating myself up too badly over it. This was the first time I had ever had any contact with this beautiful little creature. It would be ok. I was her father, and she would fill my heart soon enough.
Well, the next day we were out of the hospital and my wife was being wheeled down to the car. She held my daughter while I held the bags. I loaded up the car, strapped my daughter into the car seat, bid farewell to our nurse, and was off for home.
Then it happened.
My wife made a very strange face and asked me, "Honey, why are you driving so slowly?"
I realized I was doing 20 in a 45 mile an hour speed zone.
The bond had begun. I was driving ever so slowly and ever so carefully in the hopes that nothing would happen to the precious little creature sleeping in the back seat. I was protecting my daughter.
And That's when I fell in love.
Did I get into a car accident?
Did I get pulled over?
Did I win the lottery?
No.
I came to a realization.
I gained some interesting insights during my wife's pregnancy. My normally placid, good natured, smiling wife was also a schitzophrenic. At least that's what I thought, based on all the mood swings she would go through. Also, she could eat a lot. Let me re-emphasis that. She could eat A-L0T!!! I remember her waddling out of a gas station quickie mart with a HUGE bag of potato chips, a HUGE jar of salsa, and sporting the biggest, most excited smile I have ever seen. You'd have thought she had found the lost city of gold itself!!!
However, the biggest realization I came upon was that I didn't know this child in my wife's womb. I had no connection to it, no bond, no anything. I mean, I knew it was mine.... but what does that mean? I had no real affection towards it in the least. My wife had bonded with it for nine months. She felt it grow, move, kick, etc. I felt nothing. Come delivery time, I was more concerned that my wife make it out in one piece.
After my daughter was born, i felt terrible. I was holding her, and she was adorable, but.... where was the magic that all father's spoke about? Where were the tears? Where was the love? She looked like me, closed her eyes like me, had the same hair color as me. She had all the positive features of my face, yet I had no recognition of her. My wife took to her right away, why couldn't I? I resigned myself to the fact that it would all come with time. I was beating myself up too badly over it. This was the first time I had ever had any contact with this beautiful little creature. It would be ok. I was her father, and she would fill my heart soon enough.
Well, the next day we were out of the hospital and my wife was being wheeled down to the car. She held my daughter while I held the bags. I loaded up the car, strapped my daughter into the car seat, bid farewell to our nurse, and was off for home.
Then it happened.
My wife made a very strange face and asked me, "Honey, why are you driving so slowly?"
I realized I was doing 20 in a 45 mile an hour speed zone.
The bond had begun. I was driving ever so slowly and ever so carefully in the hopes that nothing would happen to the precious little creature sleeping in the back seat. I was protecting my daughter.
And That's when I fell in love.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Garden
I never realized that I had become a gardener.
Wait, what?
That's right, I have become a gardener. Pretty amazing when you consider I live in an apartment and don't even HAVE a garden. I know nothing about seeds and planting. I know nothing about tilling soil or fertilizer. Yet I have become a gardener.
Ok, what am I talking about?
Well, I have a child, with another on the way.
I am a father.
Thus, I have a very real garden to attend to.
Our children are very much like a garden. What we plant in them will grow. My daughter copies EVERYTHING I do or say. She thinks like me, acts like me, tries to walk like me, and even tries out all my silly little mannerisms. I have come to realize that I have to be VERY careful when it comes to what I say or do in front of her because she will do the same. My wife always comes down on me about the things I say, most of which I dismiss by saying "Honey, she doesn't understand what that is." or "She's not even listening!"
She is.
She is ALWAYS listening.
We as parents are responsible for everything our children hear, and for what they will become later on. Sure, there are things that are specifically their own, and later in life they will develop their own personality, but right now, in their toddler years, they are completely influenced by us, and this influence will last them a lifetime. It will mold their thinking, shape their decision making abilities, and affect their demeanor.
Remember to tend to your garden everyday. If you plant weeds, weeds will grow. If you plant roses, sunflowers, daisies, and wildflowers, those will grow as well.
Plant wisely.
Wait, what?
That's right, I have become a gardener. Pretty amazing when you consider I live in an apartment and don't even HAVE a garden. I know nothing about seeds and planting. I know nothing about tilling soil or fertilizer. Yet I have become a gardener.
Ok, what am I talking about?
Well, I have a child, with another on the way.
I am a father.
Thus, I have a very real garden to attend to.
Our children are very much like a garden. What we plant in them will grow. My daughter copies EVERYTHING I do or say. She thinks like me, acts like me, tries to walk like me, and even tries out all my silly little mannerisms. I have come to realize that I have to be VERY careful when it comes to what I say or do in front of her because she will do the same. My wife always comes down on me about the things I say, most of which I dismiss by saying "Honey, she doesn't understand what that is." or "She's not even listening!"
She is.
She is ALWAYS listening.
We as parents are responsible for everything our children hear, and for what they will become later on. Sure, there are things that are specifically their own, and later in life they will develop their own personality, but right now, in their toddler years, they are completely influenced by us, and this influence will last them a lifetime. It will mold their thinking, shape their decision making abilities, and affect their demeanor.
Remember to tend to your garden everyday. If you plant weeds, weeds will grow. If you plant roses, sunflowers, daisies, and wildflowers, those will grow as well.
Plant wisely.
Friday, January 29, 2010
We are all they have.
Many is the time when my wife and I are tired, sleepy, or busy with one of the many useless things we all occupy our days with that seem so incredibly important (like updating our Facebook status!!), and we have our daughter crawling all over us.
"Dada, fix my dolls dress!"
"Dada, catch me!"
"Dada, I want a snack!"
"Dada, I want Juice!"
"Dada, dada, dada......!!
Heck, sometimes she just walks around the apartment saying "Dada" and nothing else. It drives me up the wall at times, as it does my wife. She gets called on for a lot of things too. I'm sure many parents get to that point where they just want to yell at their kids "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!"
For any expecting or new parents out there, you'll get there.
What I have to do constantly during these 'patience trying' moments is take a step outside myself and look at the situation for what it is.
My child wants my attention.
This is not a bad thing. This is a good thing. After all, I am all she has! Well, she has a mother and grandmothers as well, but you get the point. We as parents are all our children have at this point in their lives. They are not in school yet. They really don't have any friends yet, none that they can see on a day to day basis!! Children who are raised by a baby sitter with five other kids are a different story, but for those of us who choose to raise our children ourselves, this can be a challenge. When they want to play, who do they play with? When they are thirsty, they can't just go into the kitchen, open the fridge and pour themselves a drink... they can't reach the counter top!! So who do they depend on? When they need help with a project they are engaged in, such as trying to take apart or put together their leggo blocks, who is it that they have to ask for help?
Us. Mom and Dad.
I myself have at times told my daughter to go to her room and stay there. I've done it in a nice way "Honey, why don't you go play in your room? I'll put the TV on for you!", but it is still me trying to get rid of her, and I feel like crap afterward. The saying that they grow way too fast is very true. Tomorrow she will be getting married, and I will be looking back, wondering what ever happened to her childhood and regretting not spending more time with her.
So, anytime my daughter wants to play or needs me for something, unless I have been playing with her for an hour and can't catch my breath anymore (which has happened!! lol.), I make the effort to give her as much attention as I can. I understand sometimes we truly are engaged in something that also needs our attention, like an important phonecall or a visitor at the door. However, I find that most of the times I am really not doing ANYTHING. Again, a Facebook quiz or a TV show is NOT important, and should NOT take away from me giving my daughter all the love and attention that she needs. This is an important time in her life where she is a sponge, absorbing all she can about life and her environment. Last thing I want to do is create a hermit who won;t want to give me the time of day down the road when I ask for it.
"Dada, fix my dolls dress!"
"Dada, catch me!"
"Dada, I want a snack!"
"Dada, I want Juice!"
"Dada, dada, dada......!!
Heck, sometimes she just walks around the apartment saying "Dada" and nothing else. It drives me up the wall at times, as it does my wife. She gets called on for a lot of things too. I'm sure many parents get to that point where they just want to yell at their kids "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!"
For any expecting or new parents out there, you'll get there.
What I have to do constantly during these 'patience trying' moments is take a step outside myself and look at the situation for what it is.
My child wants my attention.
This is not a bad thing. This is a good thing. After all, I am all she has! Well, she has a mother and grandmothers as well, but you get the point. We as parents are all our children have at this point in their lives. They are not in school yet. They really don't have any friends yet, none that they can see on a day to day basis!! Children who are raised by a baby sitter with five other kids are a different story, but for those of us who choose to raise our children ourselves, this can be a challenge. When they want to play, who do they play with? When they are thirsty, they can't just go into the kitchen, open the fridge and pour themselves a drink... they can't reach the counter top!! So who do they depend on? When they need help with a project they are engaged in, such as trying to take apart or put together their leggo blocks, who is it that they have to ask for help?
Us. Mom and Dad.
I myself have at times told my daughter to go to her room and stay there. I've done it in a nice way "Honey, why don't you go play in your room? I'll put the TV on for you!", but it is still me trying to get rid of her, and I feel like crap afterward. The saying that they grow way too fast is very true. Tomorrow she will be getting married, and I will be looking back, wondering what ever happened to her childhood and regretting not spending more time with her.
So, anytime my daughter wants to play or needs me for something, unless I have been playing with her for an hour and can't catch my breath anymore (which has happened!! lol.), I make the effort to give her as much attention as I can. I understand sometimes we truly are engaged in something that also needs our attention, like an important phonecall or a visitor at the door. However, I find that most of the times I am really not doing ANYTHING. Again, a Facebook quiz or a TV show is NOT important, and should NOT take away from me giving my daughter all the love and attention that she needs. This is an important time in her life where she is a sponge, absorbing all she can about life and her environment. Last thing I want to do is create a hermit who won;t want to give me the time of day down the road when I ask for it.
SuperDad to the rescue!!!
You always hear about how parents rush into their kids' rooms to rescue them from some nightmare. Movies and television often show the parents running in to their screaming child looking concerned, but in control. I myself remember being a kid and yelling for my mom to come into my room in the wee hours of the morning, to chase the boogie man, or El Cuco, as we called him, away. I never stopped to wonder if parents were scared. At three years old, my daughter has called many a night to come to her room, many times scared, and I went in like a general going into battle. Noone or nothing was going to hurt my little girl. "I'll save you, baby!!" was my demeanor. Last night, that all changed.
It was a little after 8PM, and I was sitting with my wife in our dining room, deeply engaged in some forgotten conversation, when we hear the most blood-curdling scream we've ever heard come out of my daughter's room. "WHAT'S THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Being apartment dwellers, we hear knocks and bumps all the time, and my daughter always asks what it is. This time, she was screaming, and it was a prolonged scream.... one which grew louder and more desperate. So, what did I do? The brave general, the man of the house, the King of the castle?
I froze.
That's it. I froze. Albeit, only for a few seconds, but I froze. The noise scared me. I looked at my wife and she looked at me, and we sat there for what seemed like an eternity before running into our daughter's room. I remember being afraid of what I was going to see as I walked in there. Visions of her floating in the room, or being dragged across the floor by an unseen force popped into my head (and here I was thinking Paranormal Activity was a weak movie that didn't really frighten me!!). I also saw her fighting off a strange man who was trying to pull her out the window, clinging by her fingertips to the windowsill, as the masked man tugged and pulled her by her legs. I saw her pop out the window and disappear. These thoughts occurred to me in the time it took me take three steps into her room. Luckily, she was in her bed wondering what that noise was.
Whatever the noise, it obviously left a lasting impression on her, as her heart was beating a mile a minute. After much investigating, I ruled out any paranormal activity or burgler, and revealed the source as some heavy toys that had fallen. We comforted her as best we could, and she eventually went to sleep (after much stalling, of course). However, I was left with a wierd feeling.
Why did I freeze?
Well, because I was scared.
I can't be scared!!
Why not?
Because I'm a father!! Parents are not supposed to be scared of ANYTHING!! We are the ones out little ones look to for guidance and strength. We are the heros in times of fear. We are supposed to make the world seem like a safer place.
How could I be scared!?
I was not scared in front of my daughter, of course. I'm SuperDad. I can handle anything.
However, deep down inside I was frightened, and that is not cool.
The fact that I froze, even for a moment, tells me I still have a long way to go in this crazy world of parenting before I get it right.
It was a little after 8PM, and I was sitting with my wife in our dining room, deeply engaged in some forgotten conversation, when we hear the most blood-curdling scream we've ever heard come out of my daughter's room. "WHAT'S THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Being apartment dwellers, we hear knocks and bumps all the time, and my daughter always asks what it is. This time, she was screaming, and it was a prolonged scream.... one which grew louder and more desperate. So, what did I do? The brave general, the man of the house, the King of the castle?
I froze.
That's it. I froze. Albeit, only for a few seconds, but I froze. The noise scared me. I looked at my wife and she looked at me, and we sat there for what seemed like an eternity before running into our daughter's room. I remember being afraid of what I was going to see as I walked in there. Visions of her floating in the room, or being dragged across the floor by an unseen force popped into my head (and here I was thinking Paranormal Activity was a weak movie that didn't really frighten me!!). I also saw her fighting off a strange man who was trying to pull her out the window, clinging by her fingertips to the windowsill, as the masked man tugged and pulled her by her legs. I saw her pop out the window and disappear. These thoughts occurred to me in the time it took me take three steps into her room. Luckily, she was in her bed wondering what that noise was.
Whatever the noise, it obviously left a lasting impression on her, as her heart was beating a mile a minute. After much investigating, I ruled out any paranormal activity or burgler, and revealed the source as some heavy toys that had fallen. We comforted her as best we could, and she eventually went to sleep (after much stalling, of course). However, I was left with a wierd feeling.
Why did I freeze?
Well, because I was scared.
I can't be scared!!
Why not?
Because I'm a father!! Parents are not supposed to be scared of ANYTHING!! We are the ones out little ones look to for guidance and strength. We are the heros in times of fear. We are supposed to make the world seem like a safer place.
How could I be scared!?
I was not scared in front of my daughter, of course. I'm SuperDad. I can handle anything.
However, deep down inside I was frightened, and that is not cool.
The fact that I froze, even for a moment, tells me I still have a long way to go in this crazy world of parenting before I get it right.
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