Excuse my reasoning
A point of view is a dastardly thing. It can be useful in some situations, but in a case where your point of view allows you to turn an excuse into a reason it can be devastating.
Excuses, in and of themselves, are nasty little buggers. They are purposed reasonings that one establishes to allow latitude and leniency to pervade their own inability to satisfy a need or a condition in which another person, organization or establishment is dependent upon the satisfaction of that need. In essence, they are a rationalized way out of a responsibility that should not be shirked.
Worse, excuses that are believed to be reasons are all the more dangerous because they are no longer just a way out of responsibility, they are now the driving force behind it. And along with that they become a convenient means to allow oneself to really never do the responsible thing.
The reason I bring this up is because it is so easy to do. Excuses, or in most cases, reasons, are so easy to come up with and even easier for others to believe. Children seem to know this inherently. So do spouses (yes, men and women). In fact, I tend to think it is human nature to be able to drum up an excuse, er, reason, at the drop of a hat in most cases.
I am just as guilty of this as the next guy. Which is why I chose to write about it. I find myself doing this more and more and, the truth is, it needs to stop. A wife, children, a boss... they all need reliability out of a man. And reliability is impossible if there is a way out of responsibility through excuses.
So the next time you feel yourself in a place to excuse your way out of something, think twice and see if you can reason with yourself to the point of not allowing the excuse. People are counting on you.
An outing of sorts
Today my wife needed a break badly. She has been without one for a while and asked me a couple of days ago whether last night would be alright for her to go out and have some "her" time. Last night did not exactly happen for her, but today did, so I gave her that time and decided I would spend some time taking the kids for a walk to get slushies because the kids really love doing that, generally it doesn't cost too much and it usually wears the kids out and makes for an excellent quiet time when we get home.
Quick tip for the husbands: Your wife needs a break. Whether she tells you or not is irrelevant. Give her a break frequently. She needs it and she will be very appreciative of your thoughtfulness toward her. And even if she isn't, you should do it anyway.
Quick tip for the fathers: Your kids need to get out the house. They need to blow off steam and they totally need to do that with their dads. This is not to say that they cannot get that with their moms. In fact kids need mom time too. But dad time is crucial, so if you have kids make time for them doing something you all can enjoy together.
So we set off on a walk, the six of us, to the 7-11 just down the street from us. The weather was nice, a little chilly but sunny, so the walk was pleasant right off the pop. We hit up 7-11 and grabbed slushies for all of us - well I prefer coffee so I did that instead - and a couple of bags of chips to snack on. Then we headed out to the front of the store to kick it and snack.
But that is something we always do, so I decided we would change things up a bit so instead of sitting out in front of the store we walked a little bit further to Mission Boulevard where we found a bench and sat on it, snacking and slurping and watching the cars pass us by. This is what it might have looked at from the cars' perspective:

After our snack time and car watching was over was decided to cross the street and check out Mission San Jose. It wasn't until we got there that we realized it was going to cost more money that I brought with us so we just sort of hung around the outside and checked out as much as we could without spending any money doing it.
After a short while we decided to start the walk home with a planned stop at the Olive Hyde Art Gallery. This ended up being a much shorter trip than I wanted it to be seeing as the gallery was displaying quilts and artwork that ran as high as $10,000. If not for the fact that four of my kids suddenly had to go to the bathroom at the gallery we would have only been there for a couple of minutes. In fact we were there for almost a half hour.
After that we took a slow stroll home and ended our two hour walk by coming home and resting. So when Sandi got home from her alone time she was able to come home to a quiet, resting house. Now how could this day have gotten any better?
Think BBQ. I know I am.
Government knows best
There was a time in our country when parents were afforded the position of "knowing what is best" for their children. In fact it wasn't that long ago that parents were not only expected to tend to their kids but were encouraged to do so. But it seems as though the government has become increasingly interested in the governing of not just the political landscape. Apparently the government wants into your family now.
I had heard about this issue originally from a Home School Legal Defense Association newsletter and I later read about Senator Barbara Boxer seeking to ratify the U.N. Convention on the Rights of the Child. After reading the content and the message behind it I am left with an overwhelming disgust for our government. Not that I liked the government before, but this makes me want to become a politician just so I can speak out against this crap.
How can any politician believe, at all, that the government knows better than a parent when it comes to raising and handling their own kids? I know there are edge cases of neglect, abuse, bad parenting and utter parental stupidity that could easily be recounted that might provide a small sense of justification for this. But I would say that in the bulk of families that could be affected by a decision like this most have parents that are in some way or another involved in the welfare of their children. The government does not need to pass an intrusive legal decision that would in effect put the governments decisions regarding children above the decisions of the parents of those children.
Does this not seem odd to you? I take comfort in knowing that as a parent I am responsible for my children. I take comfort in knowing that since I live in a free country, a country that does no derive its identity nor its principles from the government which covers it, that I can parent my children however I see fit. Like home schooling my kids. Like disciplining them as I see fit. Like providing for them, sheltering them and teaching them the way that I, as their parent, think is the best way.
I hope Senator Boxer takes one on the chin with this attempt. Seriously, the government is meddling in affairs that it just should not be in. Parenting is one of those areas and that really needs to be left up to the experts: us parents.
That’s one small step for a Sarah
And one gigantic, enormous, monstrous step for dad.
My oldest daughter, Sarah, was invited to spend the night with a friend of hers for her friend's birthday party on Saturday night. Part of the festivities were going to involve shopping and a girls day out with her friend. I was cool with that. But I was shocked and awed when her friend's mom came to pick Sarah up and told us that she was going to be dropping Sarah and her friend off at the mall. By themselves.
This is the first time ever that I was faced with the prospect of one of my children alone in the great big world all by herself. Well, not really by herself, but more, I guess, without me. Of course her friend did have a cell phone (and no I am not getting Sarah a cell phone yet) and both Sandi's and my phone were on. And they were only going to be there for three hours. And her friend had done this before, so all in all, it was a pretty safe experience. But it was more than a little nerve racking.
The nice part about the experience was that Sarah's friend's mom went over a good set of pretty basic rules that reiterated the rules that Sandi and I have laid for out kids as it relates to talking to strangers, scams brought on by adults and how to conduct yourself in places like stores when it comes to money, what you say, how you say it and what you do with things that you have already purchased. So it was encouraging to know that my kid was receiving the same message from another parental source.
It was also encourage when, at about 3:00 on Saturday, my daughter called me to tell me she was going to be leaving the mall because her friend's mom had come to pick them. She also told me she was ok, that she had a great time and the her friend was keeping her alive "for the most part".
So I would say it was not a bad day for a few first time experiences. I am proud of the way my daughter handled it. And I am proud of the way my wife handled it. I am also proud of the way I handled it, and though I think I am still going to be a little slow to go along with something like this any time soon, I can say that I am confident that if either of my two oldest daughters were put into a position in which they were alone in a large open square, they would be more than able to handle the situation and be totally safe doing so.
Boys vs Girls: Having a meltdown
From time to time I notice large scale differences between my son and my daughters. They are not always magnificent, spectacular differences in nature, but they are always widely and significantly different in terms of conduct.
One such example happened this afternoon. We spent a long afternoon at Ikea , one that included lunch, playing, dreaming and a butt load of walking. We went there right after church so there was no rest time in between church and the store. Throw in the fact that ever floor we hit was a little cooler than the floor above it and you can quickly gather that our entire family was tired, hot then cold then colder, irritable and generally of a cranky nature.
In the past I have become somewhat accustomed to my daughters crankiness and fits of rage. But having a son has shed some light on the different ways in which boys and girls handle that stage of melting down that necessarily happens when the day has gone on too long for them and no one is catering to their every whim. Let me explain...
As we left the store we walked toward our truck as a family. Rebekah and Adriannah decided they were going to race to the truck. Alaynah, being the big girl that she is, took off after them. My son, being the big man that he is, followed suit. Rebekah hit the truck first, not surprisingly, followed by Annah, Alaynah and Aaron. Oh yeah, and Aaron's scream. See, he had it in his mind that he was supposed to win. And when he didn't win, he got upset.
If this was one of my daughters I would be able to tell you that she would have probably gotten quiet, maybe telling you that she didn't want to be your friend or didn't want to talk to you anymore, maybe cross her arms. Very emotional, very heart felt. My son... well, he went in a different direction.
After screaming, well yelling really, very loudly, he screamed directly at Alaynah, telling her, in effect, that he wanted to win and the she was supposed to let him win. Then he screamed again. Then he put both hands on the truck as if he was going to push it out of the parking spot it was in. And when it didn't move, he reached under the rear quarter panel and tried to pick it up and throw it. Yes, my son wanted to pick the truck up and throw it. It was only when he couldn't get it off the ground that the tears came.
Broken, frustrated and thwarted as a mighty man of truck throwing strength, my son became a little boy once again. And I had no choice but to pick him up, hold him, tell him I love him and then tell him that next time, if he wants to win, he needs to earn it because there is nothing at all the he will ever do in which a win will be given to him. Of course, I told him this in terms a three year old might understand some day. But he had to hear it. More importantly though was that he had to hear that I loved him. Right then, in the middle of his meltdown.
Which takes me to a place where my kids aren't really all that different. When they are broken, frustrated and thwarted what all they really need is a little love. But then, isn't that something we all need when we go through all that stuff, too?
Going through a teen life crisis
A few days ago my friend Ray called me up and brought to my attention that in a few weeks he and I were going to be father's of teen aged daughters. Not that I needed any more worries on my plate right now. Thanks Ray!
Seriously, I have given it a bit of thought over the last few months. My daughter Sarah, my first born, will be turning 13 in just a few weeks (April 2, if you want to send cash and prizes). Ray's daughter Kayla will be turning 13 on April 19 (or is the April 16? I always forget). So in just a few short weeks I am going to have a teen aged daughter.
And about fifteen months and a few short weeks from now I will have a second teen aged daughter. And frankly I am overwhelmed by it.
I have been looking forward to this time. I have dreamed of what it would be like to welcome my daughter into young adulthood, into an age of maturity, into the "teens". But then I realized that for the most part, 13 is just a number.
Yes, it is a meaningful number. Most kids consider 13 to be a huge milestone in their young lives. I did. I remember turning 13 and thinking to myself "I'm a man now. Awesome.". But to be honest, from that point on I can remember very little about being 13 or even being a teenager for that matter.
But I so want something special for my daughter. I want her to have a grand welcome party into teenhood. I want her to have a 13th birthday to remember. I want her to know that I feel as crazy about this as she does. Because I do. It is huge. For her, and for me, too.
I am not sure still what I am going to do. But I do know that I am going to stop sweating this whole "coming of age" bit and just continue to enjoy my children and the days of their youth. 13 has come so quickly that I can hardly remember the past 12. And I still have four more 13's to experience. So I think that this 13, the first 13, will be a bit of a special 13 for me.
And I am sure it will be for Sarah as well.