If knowledge is power...

Why is it that kids (I'm not even talking teenagers) think their friends or cousins know more about everything than I do? I mean, I'm a pseudo-successful adult. I pay my bills, do my job. I read. I know things. But when I talk, I get this glassy-eyed stare that tortured POW's must use to avoid giving information. Or I get random information that has nothing to do with the conversation. (i.e. In a recent conversation about housebreaking the dog, I was informed about the authors of a dog training book the kid had read)

Anyway, my point is that, somehow a nine-year-old has more credibility in matters of life than I do. What's up with that? I've tried explaining that friends don't so much care whether they get someone else in trouble as long as they don't get in trouble themselves. Even after a stint in the corner this message falls on deaf ears. I've tried predicting the consequences for obviously foolish actions. They are still surprised when that tree branch breaks and they spill gracelessly to the earth.

In retrospect, I guess I didn't realize how wise my own parents were until I was an adult looking back. Turns out they were right pretty much all the time. Go figure. So, until my little wild ones grow up and have the benefit of hindsight, I suppose I'll just have to watch and laugh. And occasionally plaster their limbs with band-aids and antibiotic. God bless Neosporin.


By the way, guys, we still do it too. When was the last time your wife warned you something was a bad idea and it turned out she was right? Even though a friend of yours told you it would work. Yeah. I know.

Updates...

I added a few elements to the blog. I'm trying stuff out. Feel free to hit me with your suggestions or thoughts.

The good thing is...

Children are a gift, God says. The 127th psalm goes so far as to call a passle of yard-apes a 'full quiver'. As in that bag that hangs on Legolas's back where he keeps his arrows. I have to agree, like arrows, children dangerous when if played with incautiously. And, they have a point. (Children, I mean. Not the Psalmist. Well, he had a point too. But...nevermind....)

The point of children is manifold. Childhood is a transition from birth to adulthood. No mother I know woud ever agree to give birth to an adult-sized baby. Also, children are especially pliable and open to learning in ways that adults are not. They absorb daily what they need to become healthy, well-adjusted adults. Hopefully.

But kids provide one valuable service that, recognized or not, God no doubt intended. They give us one of the most complete pictures we have of out relationship with Him. Children rival the Bible itself in teaching us about God. And, I'm not just talking about those times when we look to heaven in utter frustration and pray the five or six words we can remember of that Serenity prayer before we're interrupted. Again.

Children are born sinful, but ingnorant of it. No one thinks a baby is selfish or demanding for it's behavior. But a baby cannot have a real friendship either. It has to grow, to mature. Children behave outwardly exactly how we behave inwardly. As Christians, we are trying to learn a better way, but it is God who is teaching us. As kids grow, they pass through stages of concrete thought into the abstract We see how we are being lifted up out a world made only of what we can see and touch into spiritual world that's just as real with rules and consequences of its own.

Pay attention. This metaphor applies to every part of your relationship with God. What do you want for your children? How do you want them to talk to you? How comfortable should they feel at home, the home you provide for them? What do you fear for them? Hope for them?

Smart parents teach their kids cool stuff. Wise parents learn cool stuff from their kids.

Tiger pits and self-control...

"I understand that kids will be kids but you can't just let them get away with it."
--Anonymous

The person who said this was frustrated and actually mispoke what they were trying say, but the quote was so perfect. It appealed to me. On the surface, it seems harsh and unforgiving. After all, we've been indoctrinated by decades of Disney Family Movies to respond to a child's hijinks with a shrug and a laugh. 'Oh that Johnny, what a prankster. Why just the other day he trapped the mail man in a Burmese Tiger Pit.' Other parents nod, appreciating the gift that Johnny must be to his parents.

That's stupid. Kids are dangerous and ill-suited to making their own decisions. Would a child actually dig a Burmese Tiger Pit to trap a Federal employee? Of course! Especially if he saw it on TV! All he lacks is stature, strength and commitment. And, don't bank on any kid's attention span to save you. They may not be able to attend to a three-second warning about digging holes in the yard, but they can spend hours plotting some diabolical shenanigan when you're not around.

The chaos of children is forgivable, strictly because they are children. They sin in ignorance. After all, they didn't know it was wrong to capture a mail man and they forgot (sometimes they really do!) you told them not to dig in the yard. But they will not be little forever. Kids that act like kids are called rowdy or a handful. Adults that act like kids are called psychopaths.

But, they can learn. That's what kids do best. They learn at an almost instant rate and to a near permanent degree. Ask anyone who has accidently cursed in front of a toddler. They can learn self-control, empathy, virtue. They learn them from us, just like the colorful adjectives and inappropriate song lyrics we wish they hadn't heard. So while it is okay for kids to be kids, we can forgive them, we must not let them get away with it. We are not raising children. We are raising adults from birth. By all means, teach them to act like one. That's what we do isn't it? Act like adults?

He said what...!?

We were driving around this morning when a familiar mini-van started tailing us. We pulled over and stopped to visit with Grandma and Grandpa for a minute. My youngest son just recieved an RC truck from them as a gift and so Grandma asked, 'How's the truck?'

'It's an apple.' He said, holding out the fruit he was chomping on.

He wasn't the least confused.

I love to watch my kids use language, to interact with other people. They can articulate their thoughts and feelings like only children can.

Too bad it takes them another ten years before they learn to think before they speak. Later, we went out to eat. For a long time I've jokes that teryaki chicken looks like a rat on a stick. My wife shared this joke with the kids while I was supervising a bathroom run.

So, my oldest son decides to check the truth of this with the waitress at the top of his considerable lungs. Just so everyone knows, the fine people of the Chinese Buffet don't seem to appreciate this kind of inquery.

So what's the deal? Do we, as parents, do this? Do we speak without thinking? Do we mispeak and overstep? I'm pretty sure we do. And they are as innocent as we are, which is to say, most of the time we don't mean to offend.

But ignorance is no excuse and so we will continue to be vigilant. Maybe someday they will all learn to watch what they say and think of manners as more than something other people have. As for me, well, every once in a while I open my mouth and the stupid just falls out. Ask my wife. Good thing fogiveness is divine.

Busted...

It's friday night. Finally, all the kids are in bed. You look at the misses and she looks back. You realize you are both thinking the same thing. You want it, she wants it. You go for it.

And it is good!

Suddenly, you hear the patter of feet. You know you should've taken this to the bedroom and closed the door. What were you thinking? Right here in the couch!? You look, deer-in-the-headlights at the innocent four year old child in the hallway. Should you lie? Try to explain?

Before you can say anything she says it for you. Oh yes, she knows what your up to.

"You guys are eatin' ice cream!"

You've been busted.



(What did you think was going on? Come on man, you got kids!)

Children and the expression of thought...

laundry piles high
noise like flood water drowns all
child fills all life up

--- I decided to open with a haiku because, who doesn't love haikus, right? Seventeen syllables and you don't even have to make 'em rhyme. I realized it's been like a long long time since I wrote anything here and maybe my idea of putting out a witty and meaningful commentary on a weekly basis was a little ambitious.

Children are a two-fold in everything. You get baby coos and gahs and baby poop. You get inspired insights into life from their perspective and fart jokes. You get heaps of material for writing from their countless antics and your so exhausted by them you can't quite couple two coherent sentances together.

Hence, my obsession with coffee.

So this week I will do my best to be a careful observer and try to retaion some of what I see and learn. I want to share my experiences as a father and be able to express it in something more substantial than a haiku. So for now, happy parentin'. And may God go with you. Yer gonna need it.

Will work for Bubble-Yum...

We started a vegetable garden this week. On the surface, this seemed like a brilliant idea. Homeschool family and all, growing vegetables all summer is a great lesson on where food comes from, how to take care of a garden, etc. Besides, kids love to dig, at least, my kids do, and there's lots of digging in gardens.

Except, that kids are actually really hard workers, surprising but true, and if you give them a job they enjoy, they will do it day and night forvever and ever amen. My backyard is starting to look like a shelled out battlefield and mom and I have to be vigilant about keeping the digging away from the already planted parts of the garden.

But, to harness that drive, that power...who knows what you could accomplish. The trick is making it fun. For instance, our kids wanted to play with their toy shovels, so mom set them in garden beds and in no time they had the soil tilled up. I think I'll invent a game where ninjas must wash and wax the whole car to defeat evil. Hmm. Needs work.

Anyway, the point is, that kid's have limitless energy for playing, and they don't mind pushing themselves. They're natural workers, just like they're natural learners and natural problem-solvers. You don't have to ask them to do it, you just show them how. Who knows what a kid can accomplish if he's given a little encouragement and the right tools? Oh, and the right currency. For some reason, a pack of gum is like gold bullion in the kid economy. So turn 'em loose on something and see what they can do.

On brevity...

Sorry. I just saw how much text that was to read. I'll try to keep it shorter from here on out. Thanks to anyone who took the time to read it.

A Father's Presents...

Okay dads, what is the greatest gift you can give your children? What's the best thing your dad gave you? Was it your first bicycle, first pocket knife, first car? Did he give you toys, tools, tickets, trips? I venture to say, you can't remember the majority of thing your dad gave you as a kid. A friend of mine likes to start a conversation by asking, "What did you get for your eighth birthday for you dad?" Well...?

If you can remember at all, I venture to guess it was a struggle, dragging up vague impressions of things that might have seemed vital at the time but became all but worthless a year, maybe as little as a month, later. Why? Because things, possessions don't last, not in our hands, not in our minds. If it was easy to recall the answer to that question then it's because some special significance was attatched to the answer. Something made it memorable.

Now, another question. Do you remember that time your dad took you fishing? Bowling? Camping? What about watching a movie with you? Teaching you a game? Teaching you a skill? Maybe you do remeber that pocket knife because dad taught you how to use it. My dad gave me an old knife of his for my first. And when I cut myself, he was there to bandage the cut, too. Chances are you have at least one memory of doing something with your dad. For some, it may be a rare and precious thing. For others, the memories run together because he always seemed to be there, even when he wasn't. His presence seemed to fill the home.

And that it. His presence. Presents or presence? Which did you recieve? Which do you give? Fathers, we know we must provide. It is a drive set deep in our hearts. We must provide food, clothes, shelter, opportunity, education. We are drawn to the responsibilty, can hardly help ourselves to do it, cannot help bear guilt when we can't. The unemployment line is harsh for that guy who has no one else but himself to depend on. It is a terrifying prospect to a man who has children at home who survive by the sweat of his brow. This is truth. We feel it, an invisible yoke on the shoulders of all mankind, to feed and cloth those who share our name and our home.

So, we have to work because we have to provide, now here comes the rest. What else must we provide? Fashion is important to kids, for social standing, for self-esteem. Toys and games for entertainment. Clubs and sports for opportunities. More than a man could ever hope to pay for is out there to buy for you and yours. And mine. And what can I do? How can I be sure they have everything they need? Every dollar I spend must be earned. So we drudge to the offices and factories and log our hours, building prestige with the company or storing up overtime pay. We spend those precious hours of our life working and hope that our families, our children will understand. Our wives apologize for us when we cannot come to the ball games, the recitals, the graduations. And we provide. We provide all that we can.

Except ourselves. They receives years of presents without our presence. Are we doing what's best for them? According the US Dept. of Health and Human Services, if you see ten kids, homeless or runaway, nine of them are without a father. Of ten tragic stories you hear of a young suicide, six were without a father. The statistics run like this into every area of human suffering. But statistics are dead and dry. Think of you're own children. Working two many hours, will by no means, drive them to run away or commit suicide, but if a father's presence is so critical, is it then the best gift you can give?

This week, decide to give your kids the present of your presence. Consider how you spend your money and your time decide if you could use more or less of each. Above all, remember that you ARE your children's hero. You didn't have to earn with it, they were born loving you and nearly worshipping your every action. Make the most of that opportunity. Be there, be the hero they already believe you are. You don't have to be perfect, you just have to be there.

A dangerous job...

Fatherhood has got to be the most insanely difficult thing a guy can take on. The only thing more difficult, I think, would be motherhood. Since stuggling seems to be entertainment in this country I thought I would start broadcasting my fatherhood triumphs and failures across the internet like a good American. After all, isn't that why Al Gore invented the internet? Or was it military intelligence? Umm. Must do more research.

Anyway, since this is my first post and I'm new, I'll info dump and get it all out of the way. I have four kids and a loverly wife who stays home with them while I trot off to work in the afternoons. We homeschool, so it's a full contact kind of parenting situation. We generate chaos at a rate of about ten incidents a minute, and for the most part that's the way we like it.