Tag: dad

  • Spanking

    Spanking

    This last weekend Beth went out of town so it was Daddy weekend with my girls. We had an awesome weekend. We had Daddy Dinners which included meals Dad loves but Mom doesn’t (there’s a whole lotta chili involved). We spent a whole day at the pool. We went to a Notre Dame High School barbeque with food, snacks, and activities. We went to the grocery store TWO times. We had a movie night in Dad’s bed with the projector. It was a great weekend.

    Ivy has had some behavior challenges of late. Those challenges continued over the weekend.

    On Sunday, the last day before Mom was coming home, we went to church. Ivy did not do a good job and we had to leave before the first meeting was over.

    I was so frustrated. I loaded all three girls in the car and turned on the AC. I had to go back into church and clean up the mess we always leave behind, while the church meeting continued around me, load it up, and take the girls home.

    When we got home I put Wren down for her nap, setup Sage on the couch to watch a show, and took Ivy to her room.

    Despite the awesome weekend, Ivy’s misbehaviors loomed large. The most challenging thing as a parent is when your child is awesome 95% of the time and then does really, really bad things the other 5%. Because of the 95% you know she’s so capable.

    I won’t go into detail on the behavior but lest you think me a harsh, mean Dad, I’ll just say the behavior was unacceptable and important to be corrected. I’ll leave it at that.

    After Ivy was in her room I stood over her fuming. I was so frustrated. I took deep breaths to calm myself. I told Ivy I had to spank her.

    We don’t spank. It has happened maybe twice in our family and I don’t like it. But enough was enough. Ivy had to learn some things were unacceptable. I didn’t know how else to bring that lesson home.

    She freaked out a little when I said I had to spank her. As she was doing that, I closed my eyes and prayed.

    She asked what I was doing.

    I told her I was praying asking Heavenly Father what I should do. I was asking for help on how to deal with my daughter with love. How to show her I loved her but that her behavior had to be better. I desperately didn’t want to spank her. But I didn’t know what to do.

    Ivy loves pretending to be characters. It’s a fun thing about her. I love it. I love her creativity and her mind. All day every day she’ll pretend to be Dash from the Incredibles, the red head girl from the movie Leap, Alfalfa from Little Rascals, Justin Bieber when she’s singing, Ghost Spider, Huckleberry Finn, Snow White. You name it. If it’s a fictional character (or sometimes not fictional, see Justin Bieber), Ivy has pretended to be them.

    Back in Ivy’s room, considering spanking, not wanting to, praying for help, I don’t even remember thinking it. The next part just happened. I told her no more characters until she could improve on the things she wasn’t improving on. I told her I was not participating in her fun ritual of being different characters throughout the day until she could fix her behavior.

    Ivy reacted way worse at this than if I had actually spanked her. You’d have thought I told her the world was ending. She was beside herself. Distraught. She begged me to let her be a character. I told her not until she improved and I left her in her room for nap time.

    I did not spank her.

    When Ivy woke up she immediately asked if she could be a character and I said no. I told her she could be a character after three days of making good decisions.

    That was two days ago as I’m writing this and Ivy’s behavior has improved 100-fold. Zero issues. Zero problems. Every day she has asked when she could be a character again. I’ve told her the day it can happen if she keeps doing a good job. She has accepted this.

    Now it’s Tuesday night and I’m writing this. She is very excited to be Justin Bieber tomorrow.

    I reminded her that if her actions revert back it will be another 3 days of no characters. I don’t think it will come to that. This has been a brutal 3 days for her.

    This is your reminder that prayer is real, and prayer is powerful.

    I was praying for help and I received it. I say again, I didn’t even realize what I was doing. It just came out of my mouth. “Ivy no more characters until you start to behave better.”

    I didn’t want to resort to spanking, but I thought I was out of options. I didn’t know what to do. With God, and prayer, there is always something else you can do.

    God answered my prayer that day and I’m so grateful for that. I know Ivy and Sage and Wren will have other challenges. They’ll never be perfect and I don’t want them to be. I hope they’ll accept that I’m extremely, very much, far from a perfect dad.

    But as their behavior is challenging and I think I’ve run out of options, I hope I can remember to pray.

    The Father of me, you, and the universe answers. In this life I’ll never be a perfect Father. But they still have a perfect Father.

    And He loves His children.

  • A Lesson Learned

    A Lesson Learned

    *I wrote this when Ivy was 5 months old.

    I had an Ivy experience that I wanted to write down. It’s something I think I’ll never forget, but still good to get it written to make sure I don’t forget the lesson from this experience.

    One night I was with Ivy and doing her bedtime routine. I don’t usually do “Beth’s routine.” My routine is to rock Ivy to sleep with a bottle then lay her down. This night Beth asked me if I wanted to do what she normally did which was read to Ivy, then turn off the lights, rock her to sleep, and lay her down.

    I started reading a book to Ivy and she was thoroughly enjoying it. She was curled up in my left arm as I rocked in the rocking chair and held the book up in front of her with my right hand. She would get a huge smile on her face every time I would emotionally read a portion of the story.

    As I was reading, my left pocket started to vibrate. Normally I wouldn’t even consider answering a call at this moment. I had been making calls that week for my church calling. There were some people I needed to get a hold of, and it was important I talked to them. This all went through my mind as I held Ivy and weighed my options. I decided I didn’t know when I would get to speak to this person again and I needed to answer.

    I jostled Ivy up a bit and got the phone out of my pocket. I believed it to be only a minor inconvenience to her. I answered the phone and began talking. I expected it to be only a minute or two conversation. As I was talking, Ivy got unsettled and started to fuss. I put the phone between my right ear and shoulder and got her into my lap in front of me. I started to bump her up and down to soothe her.

    As I rocked her up and down, she got more content. When I was listening to the person speak on the other end, she even smiled and enjoyed the rocking. Then I started talking. When I talked to the person on the other end, for some reason Ivy got really unsettled.

    This is the image I have in my head. When I would be talking into the phone she would curl her bottom lip over her top lip, her bottom lip would start to quiver, and she was the saddest looking baby I have ever seen. I’ve seen her do this once or twice before, but never so directly related to something I was doing.

    This pattern repeated a couple times. I wouldn’t talk and she would smile and rock on my lap. I would start talking into the phone and she would get very upset and start to cry. The image I have in my mind is of betrayal. I don’t know if that’s what Ivy was actually thinking, probably not. But all I could think was, this was her time with me, and now I’m on the phone, and it’s upsetting her more than I’ve ever seen.

    It broke my heart.

    I got off the phone within 5 minutes but by that time the damage was done. I turned off the lights and tried to rock her which almost never fails but she was not having it. She was completely unhappy.

    Beth took over and was able to settle Ivy down and put her to sleep.

    I went outside to think.

    Now, the reason I answered the phone wasn’t bad. I don’t think what I did was blatantly bad. My intentions were good.

    As I sat outside, this is what I told myself. I got kind of bitter for a moment. Can’t I answer an important call related to my church calling? How can I be a productive and responsible member of my church if I don’t take those important calls? I was getting more upset. Then something hit me.

    There were a lot of good things that I could have been doing at that time while I was with Ivy.

    But, at that moment, there was nothing more important in the entire world than being with her.

    I wasn’t bad because I wanted to fulfill my calling, answer the phone, help someone, fulfill my duties. Those were good intentions.

    It didn’t matter.

    While I was reading to Ivy, she was the most important thing in the world. Nothing else mattered. Whether or not she actually felt betrayed by me answering that call during our reading time (again, she probably didn’t), I did betray her. That was her time with me, and I took it from her.

    I could have called that person back 15 minutes later and it would have been fine.

    I learned an important lesson I hope I never forget that night. While there are a million good things to be doing, my daughter is the most important thing in the world. Especially in the precious and far-too-few moments I get with her, nothing else in the world should matter.

    It was one of those cosmic-shift moments. One of those moments I realized would stay with me for the rest of my life. A moment I learned an extraordinarily important lesson from.

    I’m grateful for that moment, and I hope to never cause that quiver of a lip ever again.

    Reading back on this 4 years later and I think I still hold tight to that lesson learned. Just today someone told me about a celebrity who was asked if there was anything that made him jealous of other people. His reply was that he is jealous of anyone who still has kids at home.

    One day my girls will grow up and I’ll miss the playing and the wrestling and the tickling and the screaming and the tantrums and the fighting. I try to remember that every day.

    Now Ivy is almost 5 and Wren is how old Ivy was when I wrote this. Crazy.

    Wren
  • Simplified Fathership (Must read for all Dads!)

    Simplified Fathership (Must read for all Dads!)

    These are the highlights I typed up for myself from a book called Simplified Husbandship | Simplified Fathership by Richard M. Eyre. I typed this up mostly for myself to refer back to. This section is only on simplified fathership.

    (In multiple quotes in this book the author says “he” and “him” when referring to his own children. Since my children are all girls, I changed each of these instances to “her” and “she”).

    “Fathership is, in the eternal context of the gospel, vastly important. It is a key to much of what lies ahead. Until this life, fathership was God’s role, His only. When we came to this earth, we made the greatest of eternity’s transitions, assuming the fathership role ourselves – we hope to keep it for eternity. There is no greater stewardship no greater source of potential joy or of potential sorrow.”

    How true is that? There are no higher highs or lower lows than those associated with being a parent.

    I also like that idea, that we made the greatest of eternity’s transitions when we left our premortal life to come to earth. We took on the greatest responsibility when we came to earth. The responsibility over our bodies and the responsibility over the bodies of others. There was no going back once we decided to come here.

    “[Fathership] is hard because we’re dealing with the most complex things on earth: new human lives.”

    “It’s hard because God is the only one who knows how. But that is also the reason we can do it, and do well at it – because our Heavenly Father will help us (individually, personally) to be good fathers, if we ask, if we try, if we make it a high enough priority.”

     “Fathership isn’t easy, but it is natural. You do have fathership inside of you. It was bred there through the premortal eternities. It was taught by the perfect example of the only Father there.”

    Truths about fathership and families that are self-evident:

    1. “Families are heavy, profound, eternal responsibilities.”
    2. “Families are the foundation of civilization.”
      • “Every society that has flourished has been firmly founded upon strong families and homes. The early success of the American democracy can be attributed to the family. There was little social progress in the first 250 years following Columbus’s landing. Most “Americans” were French and Spanish seekers of fortune, more oriented to the pursuit of wealth than to serious settlement. America, like the Orient and all great civilizations of progress and stability, became great with the arrival of strong families who wanted to build real homes.”

    “Happy families are all alike: every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” – Leo Tolsto

    The key qualities to simplified fathership:

    1. Confidence
    2. Consultantship
    3. Calmness-Consistency-Congruence
    4. Concentration

    Confidence:

    “People respond to confidence. People live up to the images they perceive others have of them. Especially little people.”

    “All children have unique gifts. A parent who can recognize them will magnify them. He will feel real confidence in the child which the child will sense in a hundred subtle ways. Strength leads to strength. Confidence grows.”

    “Rewards are better than punishments.”

    “The father who has programmed himself to look for and show confidence will direct toward the child the kind of light that can be reflected and that will steadily and gradually increase the child’s self-esteem.”

    “Sometimes the most obvious ways of showing (and building) confidence in children are overlooked. The more direct ways are often best. The most direct way is to tell the child. Sit a three-year-old down, look her square in the eye, and say, “You are really a fast runner. You are very good at eating with a fork. You are good at building things with your blocks. I am really proud of you.”

    “Try it as an experiment. Think about the specific things you are proud of about your child. Make a mental list. Not too long. Just the main things. Think of the gifts she has, the things (even little ones) that she does well. Get her alone. Concentrate on her. Tell her what she’s good at. Some children react more than others (when I do this with my three-year-old he beams like a sunbeam and is sweetness and light for twelve hours) but all children react. Those who respond least may be those who need it most.”

    Confidence Summary:

    “A father who is self-programming the concept of “confidence” says to himself:

    • “I look for my child’s gifts, talents, virtues, sweetness. I notice all she does well, all she is, all she is becoming.
    • “I tell her! I praise her in every way – by word, look, touch.
    • “I give more attention for positive behavior than for negative.
      • (I really try to do this, though it is difficult. The natural reaction to something bad is to jump up and correct it immediately. Since that natural reaction is so hard to fight, I try to be extra intentional about reacting to positive behavior. When Ivy does something for Sage or picks up after herself, I try to be very effulgent and boisterous with my praise).
    • “I avoid criticism consciously, carefully. I separate my disfavor with things she does from my constant favor and confidence in her, in who and what she is.
    • “I love my child. I‘m more grateful for her than I can express. She is a very important person to me. I am important because I have her! She knows this; she feels it.”

    Consultantship:

    “Our Heavenly Father whose fathership is perfect and whose model all fathers should look to, set the clear example of wisdom. His plan, and that of His Son, was built around agency and freedom. He rejected (as did we) the plan of guarantees and managed supervision, choosing instead the plan of self-determination and experience, and freedom to ask, decide, and choose.”

    “Perhaps the Lord’s greatest strength is manifest when He lets us make mistakes.”

    • I think about how patient God was with me while I figured out who I am. Can I do this same thing for my girls as they grow and make mistakes? I hope so.

    A study was done by Life magazine. It selected two groups of students. One group were A students, and the other group were less self-motivated students with average grades. The students came from similar homes. The researchers traced the students’ histories backwards trying to find differences. The researchers didn’t find differences from their homes until they got to the pre-school years:

    “The difference was the parents. The A students had parents who functioned more as consultants than managers. They loved their children but were involved and busy with other things as well. Their general attitude toward their pre-school children was to keep them in a free, stimulating environment; let them explore; respond to their questions; watch for “curious moments” when they could teach their children. The C parents were more dominant, more managing. In most cases, they actually spent more time with their children than the A parents, but that time consisted of directing the children and force-feeding them with things they were often not interested in. The C children had more restricted environments and lived lives that were virtually managed by their parents.”

    One day the author planned a whole day with his kids: clean their rooms, plant in the garden, go on a bike ride. The day quickly fell apart. “The rooms never got clean, I planted by myself the only seeds that got planted, and the kids acted as if I was forcing them to ride their bikes.” The author was reminded of something urgent he had to do in the afternoon for work. He told his kids, “Kids, I’ve got a little work I have to do. There are some seeds in the shed. The directions are on them, but don’t touch them until your rooms are straight. I’ll unlock the old clothes chest for costumes if you want to play afterwards. I don’t care what you do as long as you clean up. I’ll be in the den if you need me.”

    The author states that the afternoon went amazing. He helped with a couple questions about the seeds and had to remind his son twice about his room. He settled one disagreement that “gave me a chance to teach a principle. (We “backed up” the problem and had the two act out how they could have resolved it without fighting. It was a real teaching moment, because it was related to something that had just happened rather than being a lesson I just happened to want to teach them).” The author got his work done and when he finished his kids had a play to present to him with the costumes.

    He says, “I learned that day that children do not need to be told to learn or told what to learn. They need responsive parents. They need a father who is more interested in them and in their needs and interests of the day than in his own preconceived ideas of what would be fun or what they should learn.”

    I have found this to be especially true lately with Ivy and Sage. When anything happens – Ivy takes something and Sage is screaming, Sage hits Ivy and Ivy is retaliating, etc. I usually intervene and help them resolve it. Lately I’ve just been letting it happy. This takes a lot of resolve because the natural parent reaction is “there is conflict happening with my kids, I need to do something.” But what I’ve found is, when I intervene, I can usually calm it down after a couple minutes, but another conflict is very likely to happen again soon after.

    What I’ve found is that if I just let the conflict happen between them, it might take longer to calm down, someone might even get hurt, but they will eventually resolve it. And when they do resolve it, it will be done, over, squashed. I think when I step in and force a resolution, there isn’t really anything being resolved. I’m putting a band-aid on the situation and it will soon happen again. But when they’re allowed the space to work it out together, it actually gets resolved, and they move on to peaceful, awesome, team-work play.

    “Children are more like plants than like clay. They need to be nourished, not formed; cultivated in their own growth, not pressed into molds.”

    “My Commitment to My Children’s Agency”:

    1. I will not force my children into my preconceived mold of what they should be. I will try to discover who and what they really are as they discover themselves. I will try to expose them to many things and to encourage their interests, their abilities.
    2. I will try to give them a free and active, open environment. No parts of our house will be off-limits. I will be sure there is an abundance of crafts, projects, books, games, and materials to experiment with.
    3. I will watch them, listen to them, and answer their questions honestly (with another question whenever I can). I will watch for “teaching moments” and take the time necessary whenever I see one.
    4. As much as practical, I will let them make their own decisions.
    5. I will make my own life as real and full as possible so that I will serve as an example to them of the joy of growing up and becoming an adult. I will show confidence in the gospel and in myself so that they will want to come to me when they have questions or worries.

    Item one will be difficult for me given my love of basketball. I hope my girls will develop a love of basketball as I watch with them, take them to practice, and take them to play. Ivy and I have started daily ball handling drills. So far it’s fun and she’s enjoying it. I hope it continues.

    Give the right priority to your kids without dominating them.

    “The Savior, of course, was a great consultant. He guided people in working out their own problems. He answered questions with questions or with parables. He made people think, encouraging them to draw their own conclusions.”

    “Joseph Smith, in one of his most profound and thought-provoking statements, said, “I teach [the people] correct principles and they govern themselves.” To a surprising degree, this works even with small children.”

    Consultantship Summary:

    • “I am a consultant to them. I let them explore, experience, discover, I watch for teaching moments and respond to questions but try not to manage or dictate what the do any more than I have to.
    • “I teach them principles and try to be an example of each principle I teach.”

    Calmness-Consistency-Congruence:

    Calmness

    When speaking of Mr. Rogers, “It is because he is so calm that it makes them (kids) feel calm.”

    “Anything connected with the Savior or His words carries a feeling of peace.”

    “Nothing works better in calming down a child than telling her about a time when you felt the same way.”

    “Probably the most important key to calmness is that the father have calmness as his conscious goal. Whatever your other objectives for the moment…try to maintain a second objective which is always the same: ‘Keep a calm, pleasant spirit whenever you are with them.’”

    Consistency

    “Erratic behavior, on the other hand, upsets children and makes them insecure.”

    “Things that are consistent in a family become traditions. Children gain security and calmness from things that don’t change, things they can depend on.”

    Congruence

    “There is a difference between an uncontrolled temper and righteous indignation. There is also a difference between real calmness and artificially-contained fury.

    “Christ often taught through righteous indignation. When His apostles made mistakes and should have known better, He reproved them sharply, and they felt His love through His wanting them to be better. Two things distinguished His anger. First, it was always directed at what they did, never at them. Second, it was controlled, never out of control.” (John tells us that Christ braided a whip before driving the money-changers from the temple.)

    “You change your children for the better only as you change yourself for the better.”

    Importance of setting a good example:

    1. “We were having a hard time getting the two older girls to practice the violin consistently. After weeks of nagging and pushing, I had a better idea. I got out my old cello and started practicing each morning before breakfast. Within a week, the girls were practicing, too.
    2. “Josh’s room was always a disaster. I had tried to explain how much better and more peaceful he would feel if he kept it straight, but with no results. One day I brought him into my room, which needed cleaning, and sat him down to watch. While I cleaned, I talked about how nice it would make me feel. I showed him that I enjoyed having it straight. I explained what pride meant and that I was proud of my room. About then, he disappeared. When I finished I peeked into his room. He was cleaning feverishly, with a contented smile on his face.”

    Calmness-Consistency-Congruence Summary:

    • “I’m calm in the presence of my children. They feel my calmness and respond to it.”
    • “I’m consistent with my children in discipline, in being responsive to their questions, and in doing certain things they can depend on.”
    • “My feelings and behavior with my children are congruent. I let them see my real emotions, but they are always in control. If I get more angry than ‘righteous indignation’ would allow, I apologize to them.”

    That last part is something I take pride in. If I make a mistake (hurt my child, lose my temper, yell, am unfair, am unreasonable, etc), I will apologize to my girls. I think it’s extremely important that they see and hear me apologize when I make a mistake.

    Concentration:

    “Children need two kinds of confidence. One is the security-confidence of being part of a family institution. The other is the individual-confidence of liking themselves, of being unique, of knowing there are certain things they do well.”

    Ways to focus on each child as an individual:

    1. Daddy Dates
      • Each child has a “daddy date book” which is nothing more than a note book in which she keeps memories of each date – – a ticket stub or a program.
    2. Clubs
      • With the eldest daughter, who loves books, she has “the Library Discussion Group.” With a six-year-old son, who is very mechanically minded, he has “The Fixers Club” (whenever something breaks, the two of them try to fix it together). These clubs not only give each child a special and unique relationship with their dad; they also provide a vehicle for close communication. The father says he learns far more about his boy in their talks while “fixing things” than in any more formal “interview.”
    3. Husband-Wife Reviews
      • Go on a date once a month where the topic of discussion is each child, how they’re progressing, and their needs.
    4. Interviews
      • Meet with children once a week to talk about their week and their goals for the upcoming week.
    5. Ten-second Focus and Taking them Along.
      • Another father I want to tell you about says he’s too busy for any routines such as those listed above. He says that whenever he tries a “daily program” or a “weekly interview” something comes up and he feels guilty for not following it. His method, therefore, for giving his children individual attention is quite different. First, no matter how busy he is, he finds at least one moment a day (sometimes only a few seconds) to interact directly with each child. He focuses all his attention on that child, perhaps for just one question: “How did that math test go?” Second, this father takes one of his children with him whenever it is possible.

    The last part is something I put extra effort into doing even though it’s so much more work. Going to the store? Which (or all) of my girls can I take with me? Visiting someone from church? Who is coming with me? Meeting with the missionaries and someone interested in our church? One of my girls is coming along. That last one often happens and for any “distraction” having a young child with me causes I think is more than made up for by cuteness.

    “One help in a large family is for the father to make a point of privately telling each child how important his individual place in the family is. “You are the oldest and your example means so much to the others.” “You are the youngest daughter and we’ll always have a special love for you.” “You’re our blondie.”

    “As you begin to feel that you know the unique strengths and gifts of a particular child, it is a good exercise to write out a description of that child which includes each gift. The writing helps you focus real attention on that child. (The reading, out loud to the child, improves her confidence both in herself and in your love for and interest in her.)

    “Perhaps the best way to learn how to treat a child as an individual is to pray about each one, to ask the Lord to reveal to you their strengths and to tell you how to communicate fully and individually with each one.”

    Concentration – Summary

    • “Each of my children is unique. I appreciate separate things about each of them.
    • I find ways to be with each one alone and to talk to each one alone. I realize that each may need a different kind of communication with me.
    • I look for the unique gifts that each one has and compliment it and cultivate it.”
  • Ivy and Sage Thoughts

    Ivy and Sage Thoughts

    This would have been the fifth installment of “Ivy Thoughts” but instead we get our first “Ivy and Sage Thoughts”! Welcome to my world of two adorable daughters. Come on in.

    Let’s start with Sage since she’s new to the segment. She hasn’t started forming full sentences yet, but it’s time she became an official part of these posts.

    Sage loves the Bluey song. For those who aren’t familiar, you can click HERE.

    In the song where it yells “Mom,” “Dad,” “Bingo,” and “Bluey” Sage yells “Dad!” every time. If she hears that song she stops, stares, and yells “Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!” I enjoy her rendition of the theme song.

    Sage is off the charts shy, including around family she doesn’t get to see that often. It’s really interesting because this “shyness,” for lack of a better term, has been a part of Sage since she was a baby. When she was a baby she would sometimes start screaming and crying if someone looked at her. That has continued into her toddler-hood.

    Sage doesn’t like extra attention on her, besides from Beth and I. There was a moment where this became clear. We were doing Sage’s first birthday party at her grandparents. There were great grandparents, aunts, uncles and family there. We put a cake and candles in front of Sage. We sang happy birthday to her. What would normally be a dream come true, a whole cake in front of her, turned quickly to a nightmare when we finished singing and she looked around at all this mass amount of love and attention on her. Sage burst into tears. The collective attention and singing was too much for her to take.

    We’ve seen my family four weekends in the last 6 weeks. Every time we see my family Sage needs at least 24 hours to warm up. She will not go near anyone, gets upset if she gets picked up (or even looked at), and is excessively shy. She will cling to Beth or myself, often laying her head on our shoulder or snuggling her face into our arm to avoid anyone looking at her.

    What’s interesting about this is Sage is the outgoing one between her and Ivy. Sage is wild and crazy and outgoing when comfortable. But if there are strangers around, she gets quiet and closes in on herself. I think I’m like this. It’s interesting how our characteristics are passed onto our children and how some things are just built into us, even as babies. Sage is shy and reserved the same way I was always shy and reserved growing up.

    This past weekend when we were with my family it was fascinating watching Sage’s transformations. At one point Sage was sitting on my lap outside. My mom was in a chair across from us. Sage was snuggling next to me and being her normal (for this weekend) shy, quiet, timid self with my mom nearby. My mom got up to walk inside. The second she was gone Sage stood up and started laughing and screaming and playing. It was an instant transformation. She loves my family once she warms up. Once she warms up she’s crazy and laughing and playing, but until then she is terrified of any outside attention coming her way.

    Sage has inherited plenty of nicknames already. Some of her nicknames include Sagey Sunshine, Sagerific, Rif, Rific, Sage Laura, Roo, and Smudge. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head. That’s to say nothing of the dozens and dozens of nicknames Ivy has given her.

    One last special Sage moment that I think exemplifies strong second child. I dropped Ivy and Sage off at school recently. This was out of the ordinary as Beth usually takes them to school and Ivy was letting it be known this was not in routine. She was crying, saying she was sick, and making a big hubub. While Ivy was melting down I set all our stuff down – snacks for the school for the day, draw bags of washed sheets, lunch boxes, and waters. The teacher patiently gathered all our stuff while I consoled Ivy. Sage meanwhile had walked in through the first gate and was waiting to be let in to go play. The teacher was holding Ivy’s lunch box and looking around. “Where is Sage’s lunchbox?” She asked looking all over the place. I looked around too. It was just there. Sage walked back from the second gate and pointed on the shelf where she had set her lunchbox. She then turned around with a complete, “See the people I have to deal with?” look on her face as she waited to be let in to school to start playing.

    Now onto some classic Ivy thoughts.

    After getting home late from grandparents’ home one night, I asked Ivy for a hug and a kiss. She gave me a big hug then she got her face really close to mine and said, “sticker time,” patted her chest and said, “Ivy tired” and got into bed. Still not sure what sticker time meant or was referring to.

    Ivy flushed a toy down the toilet. I told her if she did that again the toilet would break and we’d need to go to the store when we needed to go to the bathroom. She seemed perplexed about this and continued to ask questions. I emphasized that flushing things down the toilet could break the toilet. “I break the house?” She asked. Seizing the opportunity to potentially get her to understand the severity of flushing something down the toilet I replied, “Yes, flushing toys down the toilet could break the whole house.” This had a big impact. She proceeded to tell Beth that she was worried she was going to break the house.

    The next day we were at church. Beth took Ivy to the bathroom. Ivy looked up at Beth and said, “If I flush a toy down the toilet, I break the church?” Beth told me later, that time I caught Ivy flushing a toy down the toilet was the second straight day Ivy had flushed something down the toilet at home. Beth hadn’t told me because she didn’t want me to freak out. Well, now Ivy is convinced our house is going to collapse into a pile of rubble if she flushes anything besides toilet paper down the toilet. She hasn’t put anything in the toilet since. Parenting win.

    Ivy really doesn’t like crane flies. They freak her out. We explained to Ivy that crane flies aren’t bad. They’re actually pretty good because they don’t bother people, but they eat the little bugs that annoy us. Ivy said, “They kill little bugs?” “Yes,” we replied. “They don’t kill people?” That made us laugh. “No,” we explained, “they don’t even hurt people.” Ivy said, “I’m glad they don’t kill people.”

    There’s a toy I grew up with called Playmobil. They’re little figures that I played with nonstop. I still love Playmobil. Ivy has the same love of them and they are all she plays with when we visit Grandma and Grandpa Q’s house in Las Vegas. Ivy has the same love of order that I do and can spend hours lining them up in orderly groups.

    These little figures have plastic hair pieces that click into their heads. When a Playmobil figure is missing its hair its head becomes bowl-like. The top of their head basically becomes a hole. Ivy saw a Playmobil figure without its hair once and exclaimed, “Oh no! He has a hole in his head. Let me see the hole in your head.” I showed Ivy the spot in the back of my head where hair still doesn’t completely grow. “Awww,” she said sympathetically.

    Before one more heartwarming story, I’ll share a full on threenager moment. This morning Ivy got out of bed and came out of her room. I was just about to walk out the door. Ivy does the cutest thing right now. She walks out and says, “Good morning, Dad, Cory is here” (new alias, Cory Matthews from Boy Meets World).

    I said, “Good morning, Cory, come give me a hug before I leave for work.”

    She walked over and said, “A hug and a big smooch.”

    She hugged and kissed my leg. I put my arm around her and patted her head. She started to walk away then came back and did it again. I again patted her head. She started to walk away then came back again. Same process. I started to think she was broken when on the fourth return walk she said, with feirce anger in her eyes, “No, no, no, Dad, don’t touch my head.” So I didn’t touch her head this time and she hugged my leg, gave it a kiss, and walked away. Then she turned around and looked at me and said, “When you touch my head my hair gets so so so crazy! Don’t pat my head, Dad!” She was holding back tears as she walked to our room to say good morning to Beth. As she walked into our room she slammed our door. The teenage years are going to be great, I can feel it.

    But to balance that, let’s end with a heartwarming Ivy moment. Ivy recently hugged me one night and looked up at me and said, “You’re the best, Dad.”

    I love being a dad.

  • Blessing of Sickness

    Blessing of Sickness

    I think getting sick is a great blessing.

    Before anyone gets mad at me, let me clarify. I think short-term, temporary, not too dangerous, not too terrible sickness can be a great blessing. I’m talking the colds, the stomach bugs, the flu, the non-life threatening sicknesses are the best. Being sick sucks. It’s miserable. I’m the cliché ‘whine and cry more than anyone about being sick’ person, but, I am so grateful for sickness.

    Let me elaborate with a specific example.

    Sage started throwing up like crazy at 9:30pm, soon after going to bed. I got her out of bed. She was projectile vomiting and writhing in pain. We ended up at the hospital. We brought Sage home around 1:30am.

    Sage went right to sleep in our bed with Beth. I slept on the couch. I think I finally fell asleep around 2:00am. At 4:00am I awoke to a familiar sound, but this time it wasn’t Sage. My worry had come true. Ivy was crying. I ran to her room and turned on the light to find her, her pillow, and her quilt covered in throw up.

    I knew more was coming and was too exhausted to do the whole strip the bed and cleanup routine so I’m ashamed (not really, actually) to say I just cleaned it up and told Ivy to lay back down. I wiped her mouth, got a bucket, made sure she was comfortable, got a blanket and pillow for myself, and laid down next to her.

    For the next 2.5 hours, I could have set my watch to Ivy throwing up. Every 20 minutes from 4:00am to 6:20am when we finally got up, she would throw up. Just enough time for me to start to doze off while holding her hand. I’d hear it start, I’d jump up and give her the bucket, I’d wipe up any that missed, I’d wipe her mouth. Rinse repeat (pun intended?).

    This all sounds miserable, right? Where is the blessing in this? This is horrible!

    Well, it kind of is. No doubt it is heartbreaking watching your little ones be sick. It is heartbreaking. They can’t control it. They don’t know what’s going on. It’s sad.

    At 6:20am Ivy and I got up and cuddled on the couch. We put on the cartoon Doug by Ivy’s demand. 18 minutes into a 23-minute episode she said, “This episode is too long put on something else.”

    Ivy and I proceeded to have a Boy Meets World marathon. She was Sean for the rest of the day. I was Cory. Sage was Morgan. Sometimes I was Allen. If you don’t know those characters, step up your Boy Meets World knowledge.

    Sage woke up around 8am or something. This is all a blur now as I hadn’t really slept at all. Sage ate some grapes and I immediately put her back to sleep. Ivy and I were back to our marathon.

    Beth mentioned I should go pick up our prescription of Zofran. As exhausted as I was, I decided this was the best opportunity for me to do that. Ivy was getting tired. She went into the room with Beth to lie down and I packed up to go down the street to the pharmacy.

    Oh did I mention Beth was sick the whole day too? Side note, this is how things go in our family, I’ll likely be puking my guts out 24-48 hours after the rest of the family, I always catch these things on a delay. We joke it’s my Quackenbush DNA. My girls only have 50% of the Quackenbush DNA. The virus will get me, but I’ll fight it off for a while. (I can even more gratefully say now, as I wrote this a couple weeks ago, that I never got this sickness, boo-yah).

    I came back from the pharmacy and luckily got to sleep for an hour(?) before Sage woke up. I got Sage up and fed her some food. We spent an hour bonding, cuddling, and snuggling in the living room before Ivy woke up. I put Sage back to sleep and Ivy and I continued our BMW marathon before going on a walk.

    We walked around the neighborhood, sat in the grass, played eye spy.

    You get the picture.

    Came back. Sage was up. Feed Sage. Bathe Sage.

    Long day.

    Awesome day.

    It’s so hard to slow down in this world.

    Sickness makes us slow down. This was a special day. This is a day I will treasure.

    There were so many special moments. Like on our walk when Ivy held my hand to make me feel safe. Or when Ivy asked on our walk if I knew where the dumpster was and then told me, “You’re absolutely right.” All those sad but tender moments of grabbing a bucket and holding Ivy and telling her, “I’m here, you’re OK, I’ve got you” while she retched and threw up. Sage cuddling in my lap and looking up at me and I knew she knew she was safe and going to be okay. Seeing Sage and Ivy get better before my eyes – getting back to their normal selves.

    There were so many moments that were so important with my girls that day.

    I wouldn’t have had those moments if not for their sickness.

    Being sick is miserable. But it can also be really special.

    One final memorable moment – Ivy was going potty and I was about to get in the shower. I told her, “I’m going to shower and when I get out I’ll get you some food. You can have nachos or noodles or toast or crackers or a sandwich. Think about what you want when I get out.” Ivy’s response, “Dad, I’m not going to think of all those things.”