"At the end of the first quarter, the score is all tied up and thus far it seems no one has dropped the ball. Should we expect more of the same in the second quarter? This, and more to come after the break..."
How does a dad learn to identify the difference between a common cold and the beginning of a major infection like strep? We took it pretty easy the last couple of weeks, settled into the school structure, and found some routine. By all accounts we were aiming for a perfect week, and better yet, the oldest got to have his VIP day at play-school. Too bad he had a fever, and couldn't do much more than lie on the floor for the morning. One of the saving graces in it all was that Dad had to be at school with him so when he finally put his head between his knees on the washroom floor we could pack up and go.
But this is just a cold right?
Guns: You can almost see the smile...
We pushed hard over the weekend, alright, I may have disappeared on a men's retreat to shoot guns and ride horses and reacquaint myself with my masculinity while my wife struggled with her own cold at home with a sick-boy and a 1YO, but hey? Who's to judge?
By Tuesday the cold hadn't abated, and we found ourselves with a screaming toddler, clutching his ears and shaking because his "breath hurt" and "his brain was making funny noise".
This is just a cold right?
Holistic medicine as per internet instructions here we come! We can solve this without antibiotic intervention. We're heroes! Plus we have wireless - I actually followed this site pretty close to begin with - http://www.ehow.com/how_2308277_treat-earache-toddlers.html . Please don't judge me.
We got him back to school by Thursday but all was not well with the world, so (as the plan had always been) it was time to go to the clinic and have him checked.
A look in both ears, and the tonsils and we were on our way home for antibiotics for strep.
Ew...
And so, already proud father of the loudest child on the planet, now he's got plugged ears...
But this blog isn't all about mistakes is it? (As a matter of fact I believe I state in the subtitle that it is...) Okay fine, here's another one...
Remember, beautiful music and a app enabled phone can make anything look good - proof below:
If a boy looks well after taking Tylenol he probably isn't quite up for a hike yet.
When I say hike, I mean technical, root-protruding, gravel-skreeing, and steep...
When I say steep, I mean switch-back requiring, forehead-grating, tear inspiring...
When I say tear inspiring, I mean Dad must step in and carry all three...
When I say all three, I mean I took the dog too.
Sure, I could have parked at the bottom of the hill and walked 1km to the river.
Or I could have parked at the top of the hill and walked 3km down-hill to the parking-lot and not make it to the river.
No one had any idea how far it was to the river...
See what I did there, I excused myself by pointing out that we stopped before I forced us to make it all the way to the river without even mentioning that I also took the dog.
So with one kid on my back in the Ergo(tm), one kid clinging to my side wearing the Platypus(tm), a backpack reversed on my front, and the dog leash looped over my Wrist(tm) -- wait, I can't (tm) a body part can I? I trudged back UP the hill (Yes dumb-dumb, if you walk the boys down the hill you have to find a way to get back up) proverbial tail between my legs.
The weather and scenery were beautiful and the boys were into it... even if it was a little much.
Why must men always want to do things that are manly? Especially at times when their manliness is compromised by sickness? Like even at 33, why do I still play soccer when I'm injured? Why do I stay up too late on a night I know I'll be up early the next day? Like watch women's beach-volleyball?
I have an answer for all that: Men like to learn, and we learn best when we've lived through our mistakes.
Of course when one decides to do something like make a post once each week one inevitably finds oneself addicted to some TV show released in the 90's that makes a subscription to Netflix somewhat justifiable and then never gets around to actually releasing anything.
Maybe it was because we took such a long holiday.
Lots has happened, don't you worry. The kids are still alive even if they are bruised. (For future reference -- Coffee Tables, Couch Cushions, and Acrobatics: On their own; good idea. Together... not so much)
So there's this thing that happens to children once they arrive home from an extended vacation. They become bored, listless, and complacent while exercising some newly developed entitlement to all things food or toy related. It typically manifests itself as a temper tantrum where 3yo exclaims "BUT I DON'T WANT {insert any item or activity here}!" then falls to his knees on the floor wailing and tearing at his clothing.
This is not my fault right?
Day one of our return to routine saw Dad arriving back in the kitchen to son standing IN the refrigerator wondering if there was something interesting to eat. My son, at three, is checking out the contents of the fridge when he's bored... who knew these things were genetic?
Rather than freak out, I thought (since I had predicted we were but days away from seeing this behavior while we were on holidays) that capturing it on camera would be in my best interest. So here you go, for your viewing pleasure:
Now... surely this is not a safe activity. Surely a father, being of sound mind, would not allow this to happen. And certainly not happen again. Thankfully it seems I am still of sound mind because the boy has not ventured into the fridge at any point since.
"Dad, this is a long 'Do you understand'..." He says while being lectured on his behavior...
Even he sees why the students get tired of me at school...
Anyway it's not like it was going to get worse than this, right?
Tuesday -- the next day -- we are in that giant warehouse sponsored by President's Choice. Me and the two boys. All is going well... Pool Noodles (tm) are on sale for 45cents. I put two under the cart. Boys are very excited. Aisles 1-8 go well.
Then oldest gets bored... with no fridge to return to he hops out of the cart, grabs a pool noodle and makes his little brother laugh. By hitting him with it. Then hitting his dad. Then hitting the lady walking by.
The littlest one can be his own share of devious...
Now... at this point Dad intervenes. "Darling 3yo" he says in a patient and caring voice. "You do realize that it is particularly rude to strike passer-bys with your limp foam extension correct?"
Boy laughs maniacally and runs through the produce section looking for victims...
Dad looks at boy in cart and then back at the oldest doing the 50 yard dash past the potatoes. "Here we go" he thinks to himself.
Now there are three types of people that shop at the grocery store. Are you person A?
A) "Let him go, he's the only interesting thing happening in the grocery store.
Could you be person B?
B) "Ha ha, he's so cute I don't mind that he's hitting me!"
or person C?
C) "Excuse me sir, is this thing yours? Do you realize he's been running down the check-out lines hitting people with a pool noodle. I really do think he should be accompanied by an adult."
Because I met all three people
To A) says I, "Yes, but at some point this is going to get out of hand"
To B) I say "certainly, but he needs to come back and apologize."
To C) I think... "you think an adult should be with him when he's hitting people with a pool noodle?"
Le sigh...
By Wednesday the solution was to get out of errand mode and venture back to the zoo. The only place on earth where you're safe behind glass when the crazy monkeys are getting ready to be fed!
This one sucks blueberries from the pancakes...
Always the optimist I simply swallowed my tears and assumed that at some point life would return to a semblance of normal.
Oh for the weekend.
Beautiful wife, beautiful life... why does that boy have a stick.?
Have we learned nothing?!
Oh the humanity. My darling 3YO literally burst blood vessels in his eyes from screaming about not wanting to walk 50 paces more in Comox. But the frequency of these tantrums was increasing toward the weekend and not decreasing. At this point I look down at the plastic wrist-band reminder I wish I wore with a "WWSND" engraved on it. (What would Supper Nanny Do)...
My Mother-in-Law would take them to the fair!
and stick them all in a barrel...
I suggest Golf.
If you need a man to do something for you, hold the prospect of golf over his head. It works for the 3yo. It's amazing to watch a small boy with a loud voice go from screaming bloody murder to smiling and saying, "oh, that sounds fun, let's do that" within a fraction of a second when you mention that it is possible that while out at the lake we will be able to go mini-golfing.
And... though probably a poor way of dealing with things, each time the red-rage started to build we would simply point out that golf was on the line.
But you know what... I can still handle an hour of screaming better than most, and I always win. The failure is in that I have to...
plus... one will learn from the other...
So we head into week 2 home exhausted, a little bit edgy and wondering why we never write stories about the 1yo. Is he really that boring?
This past week brought the onset of Preschool, which, like the onset of puberty is unpredictable, awkward, and a gateway to incredible changes in your child.
I suspect that the first day of school (ever) is a big day for a lot of people. Most (if not ALL) of them being women. I am going to share with you what it was like to be ME (a man) on the first day of school...
"Darling son, it is not a good day to sleep in, you have school..."
"Darling son, it is not a good day to spit your yogurt out on the table, and get upset about not wanting blueberries mixed with your granola, I'm trying to decide if I'm allowed to label these clothes or if we've borrowed them from Mommies friends..."
"Darling son, will you please stop crying about wanting to wear your rubber boots, we have got to get going."
"Darling son, I'm going to start threatening things that I can't possibly follow through on because there's no way in **** we're going to miss the first day of school."
"Darling son, can you please buckle your self in this morning we're going to be late."
"Darling son, must you dawdle in the parking lot, the face that person is making in the truck is not as funny as you think it is..."
"Yes, Darling son, you may go play, and no I'm not going to leave right away there's a parent meeting."
No tears. No detachment issues. He hung up his own backpack and settled into the trucks within moments. Even amidst the other screaming crying child-demons.
Dad exits the building with the lead teacher and the other moms (and dad) that have come for the first day. Because going outside is part of the new educational philosophy that's Reggio inspired.... blah blah... natural light... blah blah... no plastic... blah blah blah... need some volunteers... blah blah preschool graduation committee... throw up a little in my mouth... blah blah....
I felt bad for not really caring deeply about my 3yo and his education (especially being so involved in education) and I felt bad for not really caring if the blocks he played with were made of wood or plastic, and not really caring if he got to decide when and what he wanted to learn about.
Preschool (it turns out) was all about me... I got two hours at the gym, bracketed by half an hour with my 1YO who yells at me in a much more tolerable way, and smiles with the most beautiful glowing, sparkling eyes.... and this speech was really wrecking my mojo...
Speaking of me... Our DinoTrain sidewalk art was a proud moment...
BUT -- they have signs that say, children should listen, and raise their hands, and be patient, and share toys... and when my boy came home he was excited to tell me about them. And he's been a saint each day since.
Darn you Reggio inspired preschool and your leadership and training for my 3yo. Why must you be so effective in the areas I can not be?!
Next week I get to spend the time actually in the preschool with the children. I am excited. I don't know if he knows I'm coming yet, or if he'll be able to pick a proper organic show-and-tell item for the day, but who cares... I get to see him at his best among other kids his own age.
And the youngest is learning to be taken care of by the amazing staff at the gym.
I'm not going to lie. Getting the boy to preschool, particularly the more ridgid structure, is really hard on me. I don't know that my mood at the end of this week really is an honest reflection of how great it was to have a boy old enough to be enjoying some structured school time. Nor does it reflect the best part of having him there which is the alone time I get with the youngest, counting fingers, making faces, listing body parts, checking out the ladies at the gym... wait... well okay, since I'm being honest, I let him check out the ladies, it's part of a natural healthy mindset for a boy... right?
Also healthy... toddlers learning to make fire. That's a good idea, right?
Anyway...
An old friend got married this weekend, and the wife and I got an evening away from the kids, but we still spend most of our time talking about them, and missing them and wondering how we ever did with out them... and that's why it's so easy to fall behind on the blog... it means taking an hour or two away from the kids during the best time of life.
I wanted to do something a little different and my DW had come across these great vintage pencil sharpeners while antique shopping with a friend in Comox.
A quick visit to Michaels and Ikea and I was ready to try and bring the idea I had to life.
Follow the pictures below if you care to try your own.
1 - Package of Vintage Cardstock from Michaels, 1 - 2$ Photo Frame from Ikea, and 1 - 1$ Toilet Pencil Sharpener (You can get these online!)
Remove glass, and backing from picture frame.
Use the backing as a template for cutting a piece of the cardstock to size.
Use a basic glue-stick to attach the card-stock to the backing.
It is up to you, if you want to put the glass back in the frame, or leave it out. I chose to leave it out.
Use a hot glue-gun to mount the "fixture" - I had to improvise with a tooth-pick to keep the toilet from sagging once mounted.
Finished product.
Repeat ad nauseum. Not bad for under $10, am I right?
