Tonight marks the night my daughter Rebekah will be celebrating her 11th birthday. It is a little late, but scheduling circumstances outside of my control necessitated this weekend be the weekend we do this.
What that means to be is that tonight I will be flooded with young girls eating, playing, screaming, eating, screaming and screaming. I already know that it is going to be loud. And that I am going to get eaten out of house and home. And that I am going to get very little sleep. I am prepared for that. I think what I am not prepared for, and what I truly do not know how to prepare for, is the physical impact this will have on me and my wife.
Of course, knowing me, I am going to throw myself headlong into the festivities. I always do. And I will probably end up setting up games or something fun for the kids and see to it that they stay up too late. That just seems to me to be something that I am drawn to. So I am rather looking forward to having some fun tonight.
I guess I am just not looking forward to the noise, the food bill, the noise and the noise. But with a house full of girls, should I really expect anything less?
One of the most challenging aspects of parenting, in my opinion, is occupying your children with cool experiences that enrich them and you while at the same time building the parent/child bond that is so necessary in our families of today. For the past few years I have made it a point to get my kids out as much as possible, taking them to places like Tilden Park, the Lindsey Wildlife Museum, the Oakland Zoo, the Tech Museum of Innovation and a few others. I think it is important to get them out of the house while allowing them to experience things they enjoy and letting them learn at the same time.
In keeping with the theme this week, I am continually challenged to find things to do with the kids that will meet all of the things I want for them but still allow me to take care of them and the house as needed. With weekends being so short nowadays I am finding that my free time to take outings with the kids has been dramatically reduced in favor of cleaning the house and other domestic chores that are absolutely necessary to keeping our house running at least somewhat smoothly. Which brings me to my next question.
At what point do you forgo domestic duties to enjoy time with your family? I have always been of the mindset that family comes first. But I can see how that undermined my wife’s attempt at order in the house are when I look at how terribly behind I get when I take the kids out when I should be home handling home related business. And the more I do this the more worn out I get, which leads me to cut back on some of this and spend more time at home, which ends up in me feeling guilty that I am damaging my kids by not getting them out of the house more.
Is there a way to have the best of both worlds? I want a clean and orderly home. I want a haven for my children to be able to live, grow, learn and experience in. But I also want for my children to be able to experience life beyond the borders of our front and back yards. I want my kids to not just read about stuff but to be able to experience them and learn firsthand what the thing they are learning is really all about.
To that end I have though that there are things we can do that will not require a whole lot of time outside of the home but will still allow for a fun experience for all of us. Some of the things I am thinking are:
Of course we cannot always do everything around cleaning the house, right? At least that is what I am aiming for. Some of the other things that I have thought about that might require a little more time outside of the house, but would be incredibly fun:
Now my only contention is with how I go about doing all of these things with a sick wife at home and a home that needs desperate maintenance almost every day. But I suppose that is why I write. Because I so do not have all the answers. In fact, I don’t think I have any answers. I just have a strong desire to take care of my family and provide for them as best I can.
Last night after dinner I treated my family to some ice cream. I do this from time to time just to let the kids know that I still love them and want to spoil them.
As is usually the case I was done with my ice cream first and began washing dishes. As I washed the dishes I listened to my children and their discussions and laughter over bowls of ice cream.
I am still amazed at their ability to have a fully inclusive conversation amongst themselves even though their ages range from two and a half to 12. As they ate and talked they began to finish up and I began to take their bowls from them.
I turned around for a moment to see how they were doing (since I am not facing them when washing dishes) and noticed that Sarah had her face in her bowl and was licking the edges clean. Hmm, I don’t remember teaching any of my kids that this was acceptable table manners. So I asked her to stop doing that and promptly took her bowl from her.
A few minutes after this I heard one of the best comments I have ever heard from my children:
Bekah: “Wouldn’t it be cool if you could cut off your chin?”
Me: “Uh, no. Why would you want to cut your chin off?”
Bekah: “So you could fit your face inside of your bowl to lick the ice cream out.”
Me: “????????”
That’s right ladies and gentlemen, you heard it here first. My daughter wants to be able to cut her chin off so she can get a few milimeters farther into her bowl to lick the remnants of ice cream out of it.
Yeah, I know. I couldn’t believe it either.
Yesterday morning I woke up earlier than I have in a long time. This is somewhat unusual because I have been working so hard and so long at home (because of Sandi being as sick as she is right now) that I have to fight myself pretty hard to get out of bed before 8:00 AM on any given day (which is the latest that I can leave in order to get to work at a time that allows me to leave before 7:00 in the evening).
Yep, up early and proud of myself I decided that I would pat myself on the back a little bit by making myself breakfast. This has been a rarity as of late since I am usually hauling butt to get out of the house before 8 o’clock. In fact, I have made my own breakfast for years seeing as I am usually the only grown up when it is time for me to eat breakfast.
With breakfast on the brain I showered as quickly as I could and got myself ready to leave for work. I headed toward the kitchen with the intent of cooking when I ran into Adriannah in the living. Her first words to me for the day were “Can you make me an egg sandwich?”.
Not wanting to be a curmudgeon of a father I told her that I would. Not wanting to share any more than I had to at this point I also told her to be quiet so as not to wake up her siblings. It didn’t matter.
Aaron woke up a few minutes into Annah’s breakfast sandwich. Knowing that I was now at least three sandwiches into this morning I got a little frantic. Knowing that I was running out Egg Beaters AND bread I got quite a bit more frantic. Apparently that was just enough to wake up Alaynah.
Now I had three children awake, very little time to get myself out of the house, very little breakfast making material left and an uneasy feeling that it would only take the slightest sound to ensure that I made breakfast for all of my kids while not having any for me.
Ultimately the waking up stopped and I was able to cook sandwiches for all the kids that were awake at the same time as I was able to make me one. Awesome.
Though I could have left the house at about 7:05 and been on time instead I left the house at 7:55 having cooked four sandwiches and washed the dishes and kissed the kiddos and made me coffee.
Yes. I felt a little good about myself. Or was it my 0.025 ounce egg sandwich on bread heals that did that?
A few nights ago I came into the house to the sound of crying, whining and squealing. Not certain of just what I would find, curiosity got the better of me and I sought out the source of this noise.
I found Annah in the bathroom. Crying. After asking around about what happened it came out that she was scared because the bottom fascia board of the vanity in the bathroom had been broken and she thought she was going to get in trouble.
I asked her how it got broken and she told me Bekah broke it. So I asked Bekah how it got broken and she said that Annah had punched a cup of water out of her hand spilling the water on the bathroom floor causing her to slip and fall and subsequently break the vanity fascia board.
After sending both girls to bed (in order to sort this out, not as punishment) I went to talk to Annah. I reaffirmed my distaste for physical confrontation when things don’t go her way and asked why she took it upon herself to smack a cup of water out of her sisters hand.
She told me that Bekah was spitting water at her through a small tube and that even though she had screamed at her sister to stop, Bekah continued to spit water at her so she had no choice but to smack the cup of water out of her hand.
I asked Annah if she knew why Bekah was spitting water at her and she told me that her sister has done that because Annah had spit at her first. So I asked the next logical question: “Why were you spitting at Bekah?”
I found out that Annah was spitting water at Bekah because Bekah had been kicking her. I reiterated to Annah the need for her to A) not scream and yell instructions at her siblings , and B) tell me or mom when things need help. I then went to talk to Bekah.
Bekah told me pretty much everything that Annah told me. Except the part about kicking her. When I asked if she had done that Bekah told be she had. When I asked why she didn’t tell me she replied “I must have forgotten.”. Forgotten? Okay…
I asked Bekah why she was kicking her sister and she told me that Mom had asked them to separate laundry and that Annah had decided that she was not going to do it. Bekah told her to do it (no, she didn’t ask, she commanded her) and Annah didn’t respond. So Bekah kicked her.
Bekah told me that Annah left the room and came back with a small tube which she used to spit water at Bekah. Bekah yelled at Annah to stop (no, she didn’t ask her) but Annah didn’t. Annah then ran to the bathroom to reload while Bekah ran into the bathroom, snatched the tube from Annah and spit and Annah.
Annah commanded Bekah to stop and Bekah, wanting to make sure she completely demoralized her sister before stopping, began to fill up a cup of water to use as a reservoir so as to maximize the amount of water she could spit at her sister. Annah, having seen the cup get filled, decided enough was enough and punched the cup out of Bekah’s hand causing it to spill on the floor causing Bekah to slip causing Bekah to fall causing Bekah’s foot to hit the fascia board and break it.
Naturally, according to Bekah this was all Annah’s fault. And according to Annah, it was all Bekah’s fault.
To set their records straight I told them it was both of their faults. Neither should have taken the actions they did. Neither should ever command anyone to do anything, especially their siblings, but should instead say please. And neither should have taken matters into their own hands.
Indeed I felt good about the way this all went down. Well, at least about how it ended up working out.
All in all it was a somewhat peaceful time of questioning, finding our more about my kids and trying to teach them how to interact with people on a daily basis, especially family. I managed to not blow my top. I managed to keep the situation calm. I managed to get to the bottom of things while at the same time fostering an air of honesty and trust with my children.
I would say it was a decent experience. Except the part about telling me only the things relevant to getting your sibling hung for your crime. I am still trying to work that one out. But I guess kids learn this no matter what.
As long as they are honest with me and continue to tell me (most of) the truth.
If you have kids you know the importance of allowing your children the chance to have some one-on-one time with you. We all need time like that.
Last night I took my 12 year old daughter, Sarah, out to dinner and dessert. We chitchatted, ate, laughed… generally we had a good time.
I learned some things about my daughter last night as a result of our time.
I learned that she wants more time with her friends (without her sisters around). She actually talks with her friends about things most normal kids talks about with their friends (but that they would never, EVER talk about with mom and dad). I learned she has a great sense of humor (though I already knew that) and a flair for the disgusting (kinda like I do).
I also learned that Sarah trusts me. Enough to be open with me about something that most kids would probably be raked over the coals for (you now what I am talking about Sarah so there is no need to go into that here 
) and that even though there is a chance that she could have gotten in trouble for it, she still felt comfortable enough with me to bring it to my attention.
We laughed. We talked. We grew closer together.
I feel so fatherly now. Well, I did before our night out, but now I feel more so.
I am now planning my nights out with my other daughters. My next evening will be with Rebekah. I am sure she will love that. She has been asking for time together for a while now. And knowing her, we will probably hit the park to smack the baseball around a little bit before going any place else.
And I can already tell you that Adriannah will be wanting to hit up Starbucks and the book store when we go out. That is like her favorite.
Until then I will be relishing in the joy I have that my children still want to spend time with me and that I can still spend time with them. I like having the ability to spend time with my kids. We both need that I think.
My nephew, Antonio, just turned nine years old recently. To celebrate, my sister threw him a birthday party. Many of his cousins were there and it was as regular a birthday party as there is.
Under normal circumstances that wouldn’t mean much. Except Antonio, and his brother Adrian, are not living under what you would call “normal circumstances”. You see, they were adopted into our family last year.
My sister and brother-in-law had been wanting to adopt for a while. They found a wonderful family of children that they were able to adopt, and after a heart wrenching episode with the boys’ sister being moved back to the grandparents’ home, the boys were settled in.
Now they are part of the family. Part of my sister’s immediate family and part of the extended family for the rest of us.
To get back to the birthday party, this was the first real birthday party for Antonio. His life, like that of his brother and sister, has been very hard. Harder than any child’s young life should be.
But they have found a home with my sister and my sister, much like my mother was, is a homemaker to just about anyone. These kids are blessed to have a mom like her. And she is blessed to have kids like them.
You see, my sister, not unlike many people nowadays, is experiencing the financial crunch of a carptastic economy and savage housing market. Things are dark all over. But in that darkness she shone a light to her son in setting up, preparing and throwing a great birthday party for him.
He had a great time (as was evidenced by the shreaking and screaming that was prevalent throughout the day), his cousins had a great time and the day was awesome.
To my nehpew Antonio, I am glad my family and I were a part of this day for you. You deserve it mijo. I am glad you had a great day.
Be ye prepared for the wiles of the preteen festivities preceding the slumber of the upcoming night for there will be a great and violent roar of thunder that is the playful glee of girls on sugar.
Ok, so maybe it is not that dramatic, but the medieval party/sleepover for my daughter Sarah was pretty interesting. And loud. And fun.
It all started at 6:00 PM as I got home from Costco with all sorts of goodies for the medieval dinner we were having. Rotisserie chickens, bread by the loaf, apple tarts, plates, napkins, yadda yadda. As I walked into the house I was met by a small group of girls (my wife, daughters and a daughter’s friend) wearing medieval dresses and screaming loudly.
The walls were covered in brick wall imprinted tarps and their was medieval music playing. It was also game time.
So as soon as I got home from a rather long day of work I was thrust into a rather long night of noise, food, junk, junk food, soda, screaming, noise, games, shouting, screaming, noise, motion, activity, noise, crying, playing and noise. And I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.
My daughter absolutely enjoyed herself throughout the night, even though I hit the sack at about 11:30. The girls stayed up until almost 2:30 AM. And somehow were up earlier than I was this morning.
That seems so unfair.
But it did yield a rather peaceful morning of Wii, noise, screaming, crying, games, noise, playing, screaming, noise, food, soda, screaming and noise.
Until about noon. Then it got quiet. Then it hit me.
I was bushed.
So I went to sleep and woke up a little while ago. Had a chance to spend some quiet time with Sandi while the kids were powered down, then prepared for a meeting I am supposed to have in a few minutes with a new client.
Given the nature of the whirlwind that is a 12 year old girls sleepover birthday party I would say that the great preteen hurricane of ‘08 will be long remembered for the entirety of it’s offering. Or the noise.
I can’t think now of which will stick in my head longer. Happy birthday Sarah. I am glad you enjoyed it sweetheart.
I have come to the conclusion that if airplanes were made of the same stuff that the lice my kids have are made of there would be no more death by airline crashes ever again. Ever.
These things are mutants. I have no idea how this happens, but just when we thought we were on top of the situation I find more live lice.
We have tried two treatments of Nix Lice Treatment, two treatments of prescription only medication (the same stuff that is in Nix just with a higher dosage) and have been using the Olive Oil Treatment for the last four weeks. And we are getting nowhere.
These things are unstoppable. And to make matters worse it seems that they have somehow adapted to our offense mechanism by developing the ability to stay alive while soaking in olive oil for more that eight hours. HOW DOES THAT WORK?
The good news is that we are experiencing a lot few living lice bugs with each treatment. And we are finding that picking nits (or nitpicking as some might call it) is becoming a little easier to do. But still, it sucks to have to pick nits and it sucks that my kids have to live with ever shiny hair that always makes them look like they sweated just a little too much.
I like that their hair is now significantly easier to manage. But I want them to be like normal kids with normal nappy hair and not shiny locks.
So if you have any ideas as to how to kill these little buggers once and for all (I am open to just about anything at this point - jackhamers, fire, hand grenades) let me know. Sandi and I need all the help we can get.
And if you have no ideas on how to kill them, perhaps we can put our heads together on a manufacturing process to somehow gleam from these little nuisances their indestructability and put into practical practise some way of using their terminator like existence.
Tonight we had an interesting event occur in our house. I was on the phone scrambling to put together something for dinner. This is not unusual, but tonight was a bit more intense because our entire day was spent not cleaning, not cooking, not preparing, not doing anything in particular that would be considered conducive to putting a family of seven on the last legs of a Saturday evening.
I was on the phone trying to setup a dinner to-go order. The kids, all five of them, were sitting on the sofa next to me and were being insanely loud. I asked them to be quiet while I was on the phone and that seemed to skim right off of them and bounce onto the wall. As they got louder I got crankier and asked them to go to their rooms.
Again, this didn’t quite land where I intended it to. And the kids, not receiving my instructions as I had intended them, continued to get louder.
Given the circumstance I decided that it was time for the kids to get to their rooms and loudly instructed them to do so. They responded, albeit slowly, and were soon in their rooms. I completed the call, put the phone down and few seconds later heard this extremely stressed out, shrilly “Stop!”. It then repeated itself quickly a few times and was ultimately met with an equally loud response.
What ensued was a long talk between my two oldest daughters and I that spanned about two hours and left mom and I considering deeply how we are managing the development of our children.
My daughters, specifically my two oldest daughters, Sarah and Rebekah, have been asked as of late to take on more responsibilities in the home. I don’t think this is out of the norm at all since we all share the house and all have responsibility for our own spaces, our own actions and the effects of these spaces and actions. However, what has taken place over the last four months or so (about the time that we started dealing with Sandi’s depression and anxiety) is that everyone in the house has been asked to step up our games, myself included. And this has resulted in Sarah and Rebekah taking on a lot of responsibility that they should have grown up with but didn’t and is now becoming overwhelming for them.
As I began to look into what we were talking about I found myself remembering a time a few months ago where I sitting in front of my wife hearing about how unappreciated she felt, how unheard she felt, how nothing she seemed to do ever seemed to stick, how no one in the house cares about what she goes through daily, how it seems that no one does anything to show any signs of gratitude, how it seems that if something needs to be handled that the only way to make sure it is handled it to handle it herself and how it appears that there is a lot more things to do than there are hands to do it. And that is when it hit me.
Sarah and Rebekah were beginning to feel the same as Sandi did about four months ago. And, much like Sandi, they were not sharing their feelings for fear that their feelings may be met with opposition or condemnation. This realization had me feeling like a worthless father and careless man.
How could I let this happen? How could I, having seen this very occurrence in my wife, not see it taking place in my daughters’ lives? I have been so focused on making sure mom was taken care of (which is something I should do) that I did not spend any time making sure my family was taken care of (which is also something I should do). So in effect I have allowed my children to be placed on the same destructive path that my wife was on before all of this started.
Much like my wife, my children have a special value to me that puts them in a place to garner all of my love and affection. I should, by default, be putting my wife and kids ahead of everything else. But I haven’t done that. I put my wife first, but only after she had a nervous breakdown and literally could not get out of bed for weeks. Finally, after months of trying to right the ship, Sandi is getting to a place where we can actually have a somewhat normal family life. But this has come at a great expense.
Everything I was doing to put strain on my wife has now been transplanted to my daughters. Sarah and Bekah are feeling the bulk of this transfer because, honestly, Annah at seven years old and Laynie, at four years old, are really not going to be able to handle that much responsibility (they have their share, but it is almost more work to keep them moving along as it is to handle their parts for them - but I still give them their fair share of responsibility). Aaron, well, Aaron, at years old, is the primary cause of most of the calamity our house experiences at the moment.
AJ is a two year old boy. He is learning and is anxious to experience as much as he can, on his own, in as little time as possible. This keeps all of us in a state of !@^%$#!. With Sandi still recovering from depression and anxiety, and I out of the house almost 10 hours a day, you can imagine how easy it is for the responsibility of managing our family to fall on the two older girls. Tack on to that a sense of responsibility they feel when left with the kids in the same room and you can see that they have, unintentionally, put themselves deeper into the pit of having to do things that probably shouldn’t be doing… like trying to keep a two year old out of trouble or trying to discipline a four year old sister.
With all that said I feel like there needs to be a significant change in my household. Starting tonight with a talk with Sandi I am hoping that I can learn to not only manage taking care of my wife but also making sure that my children are protected, too. They need time to themselves, they need time with friends, they need stuff just like you and I need stuff. And I need to give that to them. So I will be working that out for them starting tomorrow.
I just hope that I can help the kids recover quickly. No one should have to deal with depression and anxiety. No one. And this is especially true for kids. Sarah, Bekah, Adriannah, Alaynah and Aaron all deserve better than this. And I plan to make things right for my house.