It is late into the night, I have to work tomorrow, I'm bummed out that the Washington Capitals were blown out by the Penguins tonight in game seven(another topic for another time), my wife and son are snoring away in the other room, my daughter is wailing once in a while, and I'm sitting here looking at a couple of Beanie Baby ducks that I own. No, I don't do this kind of stuff...ever, but today, my daughter had a fever, so I walked her around and brought her into my messy home office. Perched upon one of my many home computers/servers here are a couple of Beanie Baby ducks, a very fluffy big yellow duck named Quackers and a smaller, more felt-like yellow duck named...Quackers as well. I bought both these Beanie Baby ducks off eBay years ago as a sort-of momento to myself to remind myself that the father duck has a constant role to keep the baby duck safe - my son was also one or two at the time and I also thought that he may wish to look at the ducks and if he is a good boy, handle the ducks, from time to time (they are brand new, still with the plastic nametags affixed). Since then, the larger duck is less fluffy since my daughter seems to always want to hold him when she comes into my home office and as a result, she drools all over him.
I look at these ducks and realize that my son really does look up to me. When I say that I am cheering for the Capitals, he reluctantly says he wants to cheer for the Capitals as well, even though I know he's a diehard Penguins fan, and loves Crosby. I have told him he does not need to like what I like, but I find that he often tries to emulate me at home. If I am sitting around reading in my underwear with no shirt on and one sock off, he will attempt to take off his shirt, strip down to his Bob the Builder briefs and proceed to discard a sock to the floor. With the exception of shrimp and mushrooms, he tends to take after my eating habits (picky) rather than my wife's (adventurous). My wife tells me that he simply respects me as his Dad because I am not only kind to him, but am firm with him as well and consistent in my words and actions. I don't know about that, but it's a nice compliment to hear.
My wife and I have been doing a study on a book called "Love and Respect" by Emerson Eggerichs. We highly recommend this book and its follow-up "Cracking the Communication Code" to any married couple - it will help your relationship for sure. The key component of the Love and Respect book is essentially that the main need for a woman is love and for the man it's respect. Now think about your situation and tell me if it's true for you?
Last year, I was at my cousin's wedding. After a few drinks my cousin's future father-in-law and I had a spirited discussion about hunting and also about speaking Chinese (he is a hardcore Caucasian guy who happens to know a bit of Chinese - probably speaks it better than my brother, who sounds like a foreigner). Anyway, the topic then drifted into politics of some sort and I remember I ended up standing firm on a point that I made (not in an argumentative sense, but just being sure of what I believe). I remember my Dad sitting there listening in and he said something that I have never heard him say before and that I will never forget. "One thing you need to know about Jeremy - while you may not agree with him, you have to respect the fact that he follows his convictions and is not swayed by popular opinion." That meant a lot to hear this from my Dad, who has generally been more stoic in his demeanour.
Late last year, our car was in the shop and it so happened to need critical repairs on a night that we had a family dinner with my parents. My Dad, in his endless generosity of his time, offered to come out in a rain/sleet storm and drive us to his place (in the storm, it was a bout 1hr. 15 minutes each way). In the car, between the internal window defroster not working properly on his crappy Pontiac Montana mini-van, and way too much hot air being blown in the front, but my wife and kids were freezing in the back, my wife and my Dad were talking politics. Now, at the time, it was days before the U.S. elections, and it so happened I happened to wear my "McCain/Palin" shirt. My Dad, being the liberal that he is, scoffed at my choice of outerwear, as did my wife, who is not really a political junkie like myself, and who thinks I am nuts to still own a "Bush/Cheney '04" golf polo shirt that I wear from time to time. My wife was saying to my Dad that no one will ever change my mind since I can be quite stubborn (very true) and that my political leanings have been fairly right-wing for years (can't argue that). My Dad, again to my surprise, said to my wife (and I'm reciting this verbatim, so while the language is strong and offensive, I want to cite it to re-iterate a point), "Yes, he's been like this all his life, but what would you rather have? A guy like him who won't bullshit you, or someone who beats around the bush and talks either out of both sides of his mouth or say something to you nicely and then slam you in private? At least he says what's on his mind and is honest about it." Despite the language, I took that as a compliment.
Who here reading this doesn't feel good when their own father commends them? I work very hard to affirm my son in the positive things that he says and does. I can tell that he very much appreciates it. I think that affirming to my son that I respect the consistency that he shows in his life in his conduct (most days) is the best thing he can hear - he has told me that himself. He doesn't care (well, not so much) about the old "Leave it To Beaver" type of "I Love You" moments; he likes the affirming words that show a respect for him as a young lad. I know for myself, I am deeply moved and encouraged when I am told in my job reviews at work that I am "highly respected". I've told my boss that means more to me than any kudos about the actual work that I do.
Anyway, not sure what my point is here, but if you have't read the "Love and Respect" book, I'd encourage you to check it out. It really hits on these points better than I can articulate, and it also deals with the female side of the equation; that is, women crave love the most. But I can tell you that from my experience and viewpoint, Eggerichs is dead-on regarding the men and respect part.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Is It Okay To Yell At Other People's Kids?
Late this afternoon, my wife, son, baby daughter, and I went to the local bowling alley. Originally we were supposed to go to a fairly modernized, well-lit alley, but in the end, we went to one closer, one which is known for lots of little kids being there. In fact, my son had his birthday party there this year, and it was a blast. This bowling alley is older, more darker, and the technology is not as advanced, but my son wanted to go to this one, as a last minute change of heart, so we agreed.
We paid for an hour's worth of bowling and off we went. The first thing I noticed was that there was only one bowling ball available to us in our alley and the lane to the left of us only had 2-3. I thought it was strange that they did not seem well stocked, as far as their bowling ball availability went, so I hunted around and it didn't take long to find out where all the balls went - there was a birthday party taking 4 lanes up (this is 5-pin with rails). They hoarded all the balls. I went over and grabbed a couple from their 30 or so balls (in one lane!) that they had.
After my son bowled the first frame, I noticed that the balls weren't returning properly. I thought that our lane was broken, so I went to talk to the manager. He pointed out that there was nothing wrong with the lane, but instead one of the kids from the birthday party kept coming up to our lane and when the ball was returned, he'd stop it before it reached the incline, so all the balls were backed up. I can't believe that as observant as I normally am, that I didn't see this. So he fixed it for me, and I was watching. Sure enough, just like a rat coming out at night when no one was watching, this pain-in-the-ass kid snuck up to our lane while my wife took her turn and stopped the balls from coming back. I stepped up to the ball return and glared at him. To my surprise, he looked at me, and kept doing it. I looked over to his family, who looked over at me and then said, "Zachary, come here please." Of course, pain-in-the-ass kid did not listen to them, until the fourth or fifth time they insisted. I kept an eye on things while it was my turn to bowl and he didn't come back.
The manager walked over to me and rolled his eyes, saying, "Sorry about this - we get these pain in the ass kids all the time along with their more pain in the ass parents. I just had a party here where the kids were going to various lanes and stealing the balls from other participants." Then he proceeded to preach to the choir, telling me how he wishes parents would give their kids a swat on the bottom more these days, and said it in a meek, apologizing way, not knowing what my position was. I said, "damn right - if that punk bothers us again, I'll say something to him", and the manager said, "please do".
My son went to bowl again and sure enough, this kid, who must have been 3-4 years old, comes back again and blocks our balls from returning by sticking his hand out before the ball hits the return uphill incline. My son was getting irritated, but did not say anything. I then said to the kid, "Uh, can you not touch my balls, please?" (probably not the most quotable thing to say to a kid, but he was so dumb, he wouldn't have remembered anyways). He stepped away. On my second throw, he came back and balls started backing up again. So I turned to him and got angry, "Get your freaking hands off our balls and get the hell out of here!" (yes, that is what I said, and yes, if I were to do it again, I'd say the same thing). Finally, taking a hint, his older sister or friend (about 7-8) came and grabbed the kid, and I then threw a menacing glance over at his parents, who said, "Zachary, please don't do that." No gesture of apology or firm correction for this behaviour. No wonder he was like that - his parents must have been graduates of the Shitty Parenting School of Ontario. Unfortunately, I have seen more than my fair share of these parents, and it always seems to be at birthday parties joints for kids. I remember a few weeks back, my son was invited to a Chuck E Cheese party - we had a great time seeing our friends there, and my son had fun, but I had to police the games he was playing, because without a doubt, there were tons of these other kids who I just know did not come from stable homes, and in all cases out of curiosity, my eyes followed them back to their table, and yep, single mom in charge. During that day, I had to yell at several kids, who took my son's Chuck E Cheese tickets once they spat out of the machine, kids who butted in front of my son in line (that was fun - I really gave it to them) and another kid, who pushed my son out of the way. Honestly, these are our future inmates in our penitentiary system, ladies and gentlemen.
Now, just like my wife did today, other parents did at Chuck E Cheese. My wife told me I did not have to get mad at the kid, just like the other parents at Chuck E Cheese gave me odd looks. My simple answer: damn right I had to get mad at them. I was probably the only person in that child's history who disseminated something the looked like order to them.
Now, I know what my wife was REALLY thinking, and I'm sure what other parents may think: that these days, yelling at another person's kid is not acceptable, given the touchy-feely attitude towards kids as delicate creatures who must have their self-worth and self-esteem shielded at all costs. Plus, as an aside, I may be giving the impression that I was not in control of my emotions and my temper was out of check. Well, to paraphrase Humphrey Bogart, frankly my dear, I don't give a shit.
How children choose to drive their parents nuts is their parents' problem. If they choose not to listen to their parents, well, that's for their parents to figure out. Those are not my kids. The only exception is for kids who are related to me or who are part of our church family. I obviously have more of a responsibility in this area, though even then, there are some things I would never do. Spanking another kid is one of them - I only spank my kid. I can correct another kid verbally, but that's about as far as I go. Interestingly though, I have never once had to yell at a relative kid or a kid who is in our church family. These kids are all from stable two-parent homes who teach discipline, so in a sense, they are like us.
But for others, it is a different story. Again, it doesn't matter a whole lot to me whether a stranger's kid listens to his/her parents or not. Where I do have an issue is when their kid's bad behaviour infringes on the rights of my family or friends. In the case of Chuck E Cheese, I wasn't about to idly sit by and watch my son get pushed, or give my son the impression that people who butt in line in front of us will automatically be OK with us, or that it's OK for these kids to steal my son's hard-earned Chuck E Cheese ticket. It is NOT OK, and in fact, the issue I have is the lack of respect these kids (there were a lot of commonalities amongst these kids other than from single-mother homes, but I won't go there just now) for others. Many parents nowadays, with their non-confrontational approach to things, do not want to create a scene. How sad. And what does this teach their own kids, who watch their own parents accept bad behaviour?
Now, as for how I look when I correct other kids - I think by now you can safely surmise that I really don't care whether what I do is socially acceptable to others. I really don't care - honestly, I don't. Whether you like me or hate my guts, that's not my concern - I have more important things to deal with than how I come across to others. For one, I know that I am teaching my son some valuable lessons about not letting others bully you - and ladies and gentlemen, that is essentially what is happening - by allowing - my goodness - little children to infringe on your rights to peaceful enjoyment of an activity - that passivism is showing both your cowardice as well as your complacency. Don't you care that other kids are mis-behaving, and as a direct result, your liberty to enjoy your activity is being infringed upon? I don't know about you, but I paid good money for that hour of bowling and I wasn't going to have some brat screw up the ball returns for our son. It's no different than people who have a noisy neighbour who make a racket all night, but never call the cops on them; instead, like good passive Canadians, they simply bitch and moan, without actually doing anything.
In the end, I don't regret getting upset at Zachary. He certainly needed to hear that he just can't do whatever he pleases whenever he wants. Obviously his parents aren't teaching him that - I feel sad for that, but that's for them to figure out. As for me, if anyone infringes on my personal liberty or the liberty of my family, you can be sure that they will not be met with passive response, at least not from me. Hopefully, by more parents taking this approach, we will be able to start correcting a disturbing trend of kids growing up with no respect or fear for elders, authority figures and such. At the very least, even if we may not be able to change other kids, we are providing a positive value-based life lesson for our own children, and doing them a favour in the long-run.
We paid for an hour's worth of bowling and off we went. The first thing I noticed was that there was only one bowling ball available to us in our alley and the lane to the left of us only had 2-3. I thought it was strange that they did not seem well stocked, as far as their bowling ball availability went, so I hunted around and it didn't take long to find out where all the balls went - there was a birthday party taking 4 lanes up (this is 5-pin with rails). They hoarded all the balls. I went over and grabbed a couple from their 30 or so balls (in one lane!) that they had.
After my son bowled the first frame, I noticed that the balls weren't returning properly. I thought that our lane was broken, so I went to talk to the manager. He pointed out that there was nothing wrong with the lane, but instead one of the kids from the birthday party kept coming up to our lane and when the ball was returned, he'd stop it before it reached the incline, so all the balls were backed up. I can't believe that as observant as I normally am, that I didn't see this. So he fixed it for me, and I was watching. Sure enough, just like a rat coming out at night when no one was watching, this pain-in-the-ass kid snuck up to our lane while my wife took her turn and stopped the balls from coming back. I stepped up to the ball return and glared at him. To my surprise, he looked at me, and kept doing it. I looked over to his family, who looked over at me and then said, "Zachary, come here please." Of course, pain-in-the-ass kid did not listen to them, until the fourth or fifth time they insisted. I kept an eye on things while it was my turn to bowl and he didn't come back.
The manager walked over to me and rolled his eyes, saying, "Sorry about this - we get these pain in the ass kids all the time along with their more pain in the ass parents. I just had a party here where the kids were going to various lanes and stealing the balls from other participants." Then he proceeded to preach to the choir, telling me how he wishes parents would give their kids a swat on the bottom more these days, and said it in a meek, apologizing way, not knowing what my position was. I said, "damn right - if that punk bothers us again, I'll say something to him", and the manager said, "please do".
My son went to bowl again and sure enough, this kid, who must have been 3-4 years old, comes back again and blocks our balls from returning by sticking his hand out before the ball hits the return uphill incline. My son was getting irritated, but did not say anything. I then said to the kid, "Uh, can you not touch my balls, please?" (probably not the most quotable thing to say to a kid, but he was so dumb, he wouldn't have remembered anyways). He stepped away. On my second throw, he came back and balls started backing up again. So I turned to him and got angry, "Get your freaking hands off our balls and get the hell out of here!" (yes, that is what I said, and yes, if I were to do it again, I'd say the same thing). Finally, taking a hint, his older sister or friend (about 7-8) came and grabbed the kid, and I then threw a menacing glance over at his parents, who said, "Zachary, please don't do that." No gesture of apology or firm correction for this behaviour. No wonder he was like that - his parents must have been graduates of the Shitty Parenting School of Ontario. Unfortunately, I have seen more than my fair share of these parents, and it always seems to be at birthday parties joints for kids. I remember a few weeks back, my son was invited to a Chuck E Cheese party - we had a great time seeing our friends there, and my son had fun, but I had to police the games he was playing, because without a doubt, there were tons of these other kids who I just know did not come from stable homes, and in all cases out of curiosity, my eyes followed them back to their table, and yep, single mom in charge. During that day, I had to yell at several kids, who took my son's Chuck E Cheese tickets once they spat out of the machine, kids who butted in front of my son in line (that was fun - I really gave it to them) and another kid, who pushed my son out of the way. Honestly, these are our future inmates in our penitentiary system, ladies and gentlemen.
Now, just like my wife did today, other parents did at Chuck E Cheese. My wife told me I did not have to get mad at the kid, just like the other parents at Chuck E Cheese gave me odd looks. My simple answer: damn right I had to get mad at them. I was probably the only person in that child's history who disseminated something the looked like order to them.
Now, I know what my wife was REALLY thinking, and I'm sure what other parents may think: that these days, yelling at another person's kid is not acceptable, given the touchy-feely attitude towards kids as delicate creatures who must have their self-worth and self-esteem shielded at all costs. Plus, as an aside, I may be giving the impression that I was not in control of my emotions and my temper was out of check. Well, to paraphrase Humphrey Bogart, frankly my dear, I don't give a shit.
How children choose to drive their parents nuts is their parents' problem. If they choose not to listen to their parents, well, that's for their parents to figure out. Those are not my kids. The only exception is for kids who are related to me or who are part of our church family. I obviously have more of a responsibility in this area, though even then, there are some things I would never do. Spanking another kid is one of them - I only spank my kid. I can correct another kid verbally, but that's about as far as I go. Interestingly though, I have never once had to yell at a relative kid or a kid who is in our church family. These kids are all from stable two-parent homes who teach discipline, so in a sense, they are like us.
But for others, it is a different story. Again, it doesn't matter a whole lot to me whether a stranger's kid listens to his/her parents or not. Where I do have an issue is when their kid's bad behaviour infringes on the rights of my family or friends. In the case of Chuck E Cheese, I wasn't about to idly sit by and watch my son get pushed, or give my son the impression that people who butt in line in front of us will automatically be OK with us, or that it's OK for these kids to steal my son's hard-earned Chuck E Cheese ticket. It is NOT OK, and in fact, the issue I have is the lack of respect these kids (there were a lot of commonalities amongst these kids other than from single-mother homes, but I won't go there just now) for others. Many parents nowadays, with their non-confrontational approach to things, do not want to create a scene. How sad. And what does this teach their own kids, who watch their own parents accept bad behaviour?
Now, as for how I look when I correct other kids - I think by now you can safely surmise that I really don't care whether what I do is socially acceptable to others. I really don't care - honestly, I don't. Whether you like me or hate my guts, that's not my concern - I have more important things to deal with than how I come across to others. For one, I know that I am teaching my son some valuable lessons about not letting others bully you - and ladies and gentlemen, that is essentially what is happening - by allowing - my goodness - little children to infringe on your rights to peaceful enjoyment of an activity - that passivism is showing both your cowardice as well as your complacency. Don't you care that other kids are mis-behaving, and as a direct result, your liberty to enjoy your activity is being infringed upon? I don't know about you, but I paid good money for that hour of bowling and I wasn't going to have some brat screw up the ball returns for our son. It's no different than people who have a noisy neighbour who make a racket all night, but never call the cops on them; instead, like good passive Canadians, they simply bitch and moan, without actually doing anything.
In the end, I don't regret getting upset at Zachary. He certainly needed to hear that he just can't do whatever he pleases whenever he wants. Obviously his parents aren't teaching him that - I feel sad for that, but that's for them to figure out. As for me, if anyone infringes on my personal liberty or the liberty of my family, you can be sure that they will not be met with passive response, at least not from me. Hopefully, by more parents taking this approach, we will be able to start correcting a disturbing trend of kids growing up with no respect or fear for elders, authority figures and such. At the very least, even if we may not be able to change other kids, we are providing a positive value-based life lesson for our own children, and doing them a favour in the long-run.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Fatherhood, Part II
A few weeks ago, my wife and I welcomed into our family a brand new baby girl. We couldn't be more delighted, especially after experiencing a miscarriage in 2006 (which, for those who have experienced one, you will know that it really sucks, and for those who haven't, take my word for it that it really sucks). We eagerly anticipated the arrival of our new little one, and I for one could not have been more happy. My wife knew it was a girl during one of her previous ultrasounds, but me, being more of a traditionalist, didn't want to know until the doctor announced it officially. People have asked me in the past few months whether I looked more forward to a boy or a girl. It really didn't matter to me - the fact that I was going to be a Dad again was enough satisfaction. My wife was indicating that all she wants was for the baby to have ten fingers and ten toes, but you know, for me, I didn't even care about that. I was truly prepared for as much as I could be prepared for - had the baby come out with a deformity or a developmental condition or some other health issue, it wouldn't be cause for celebration, but I was at peace knowing that however our baby ended up turning out, God would give us the strength to continue to love him/her to the best of our ability. I'm not just saying that - I really honestly mean it.
So when our little girl popped out (well, she was delivered by c-section, but that's another story for another time), and it was announced that she was a girl, I was a bit surprised. Not because I didn't want a girl (far from it), but that I was so sure that it was a boy, based on a speaking error that the first ultrasound technician made - a definite slip of the tongue, that I bet my wife $500.00 that it was a boy - I was so sure of it (and I'm not a guy who bets at all). Well, either the technician and my wife knowingly played out a convincing subterfuge, or I simply learned a lesson to not be so sure of my ability to deduce subtle speaking errors. Either way, I am out five hundred bones.
It has been over two weeks since my daughter was born, and have to say, I am very glad that I have a girl. In retrospect, I think that it didn't have to take two weeks for me to realize this - I remember when she was born, I felt this immense pride and started crying in the operating room, though I limited my display since my wife probably didn't need to see me crying as she was being cut open.
Sure, babies are babies and you don't see the male/female differences coming out en masse, but there is just something special, something magical (I hate using that word, but I'll use it now) about a father holding onto his little girl. Sure, cliches abound, with "Daddy's Girl" and other monikers being tossed around, but you know, it feels different with a girl in tow. For me, it's as if I feel that I need to achieve a new level of protectionism for my child. I guess with boys, my inkling is that as they get older, they generally can learn to defend oneself and boys are generally a bit on the aggressive side anyway. Girls, on the other hand - call me old fashioned, but Trish Stratus aside, my way of thinking just does not include girls fighting off others using their fists, and such. And let's face it, and it's not paranoia - girls are more likely to be attacked by predators throughout their life. It is my job to protect my little girl, and I welcome the opportunity to be able to fulfill this role (this is by no means indicating that I look forward to kicking some as-of-yet-unknown male's ass in the future, but you know what I mean.
I also think about my wife and how she has probably had her fair share of my son and his Transformers fetish, following in the footsteps of his Dad. My son, praise God, will never be confused with a borderline (or even close) effeminate male. Of course, my wife, being a woman, probably has a harder time relating to him than a girl offspring - I mean, today my son was sick with a fever and in the late afternoon, I thought it would be relaxing if he and I took a bath together, but with squirt guns and super soakers in hand, shooting animal targets on the shower tap, and yelling in delight when we knocked the zebra or bear figurine into the water. I'm pretty sure this is not behaviour my wife would likely exhibit, so I am glad that we now have a girl that she will be able to relate to in due time, teach her how to become a woman, just like I am teaching my son how to become a man.
I also think - one day, she may decide to get married and have children of her own. I would be the one who would traditionally walk her down the aisle and hand her over to some guy who will obviously be taking my place as her future protector (or he better be, otherwise, he'll be the hypothetical aforementioned male who gets his ass kicked by yours truly).
In talking with my wife on this one, the second has definitely been easier, in most respects. I guess like anything else, we know what to expect, though obviously a lot can change quickly. We also leverage our son heavily, eliciting his help whenever necessary, to care for his new baby sister. He has, without question, been more than up to the task. Which I was reminded at church a couple of days ago by another parent, is something that we may have taken for granted - battling sibling jealously is something that just adds an extra layer of stress to an expanding family. Thankfully, we haven't had to deal with any of that, so yes, we are fortunate. Sure, our sleep patterns are no longer what they once were, once our son got accustomed to a regular bedtime and slept through the night and we can stay up and watch movies or whatever. On a day like today, where both kids are home and one is sick and the other is a bit fussy - well, I was telling my wife, it's hardly anything that I should complain about. The lack of sleep is not great, but that too, passes, as quickly as a toddler fart. I don't get those parents who want to have children badly, Very soon, our daughter will be sleeping through the night (hopefully sooner rather than later) and then she'll be talking and toilet training and then going to school, just like my little boy.
So when our little girl popped out (well, she was delivered by c-section, but that's another story for another time), and it was announced that she was a girl, I was a bit surprised. Not because I didn't want a girl (far from it), but that I was so sure that it was a boy, based on a speaking error that the first ultrasound technician made - a definite slip of the tongue, that I bet my wife $500.00 that it was a boy - I was so sure of it (and I'm not a guy who bets at all). Well, either the technician and my wife knowingly played out a convincing subterfuge, or I simply learned a lesson to not be so sure of my ability to deduce subtle speaking errors. Either way, I am out five hundred bones.
It has been over two weeks since my daughter was born, and have to say, I am very glad that I have a girl. In retrospect, I think that it didn't have to take two weeks for me to realize this - I remember when she was born, I felt this immense pride and started crying in the operating room, though I limited my display since my wife probably didn't need to see me crying as she was being cut open.
Sure, babies are babies and you don't see the male/female differences coming out en masse, but there is just something special, something magical (I hate using that word, but I'll use it now) about a father holding onto his little girl. Sure, cliches abound, with "Daddy's Girl" and other monikers being tossed around, but you know, it feels different with a girl in tow. For me, it's as if I feel that I need to achieve a new level of protectionism for my child. I guess with boys, my inkling is that as they get older, they generally can learn to defend oneself and boys are generally a bit on the aggressive side anyway. Girls, on the other hand - call me old fashioned, but Trish Stratus aside, my way of thinking just does not include girls fighting off others using their fists, and such. And let's face it, and it's not paranoia - girls are more likely to be attacked by predators throughout their life. It is my job to protect my little girl, and I welcome the opportunity to be able to fulfill this role (this is by no means indicating that I look forward to kicking some as-of-yet-unknown male's ass in the future, but you know what I mean.
I also think about my wife and how she has probably had her fair share of my son and his Transformers fetish, following in the footsteps of his Dad. My son, praise God, will never be confused with a borderline (or even close) effeminate male. Of course, my wife, being a woman, probably has a harder time relating to him than a girl offspring - I mean, today my son was sick with a fever and in the late afternoon, I thought it would be relaxing if he and I took a bath together, but with squirt guns and super soakers in hand, shooting animal targets on the shower tap, and yelling in delight when we knocked the zebra or bear figurine into the water. I'm pretty sure this is not behaviour my wife would likely exhibit, so I am glad that we now have a girl that she will be able to relate to in due time, teach her how to become a woman, just like I am teaching my son how to become a man.
I also think - one day, she may decide to get married and have children of her own. I would be the one who would traditionally walk her down the aisle and hand her over to some guy who will obviously be taking my place as her future protector (or he better be, otherwise, he'll be the hypothetical aforementioned male who gets his ass kicked by yours truly).
In talking with my wife on this one, the second has definitely been easier, in most respects. I guess like anything else, we know what to expect, though obviously a lot can change quickly. We also leverage our son heavily, eliciting his help whenever necessary, to care for his new baby sister. He has, without question, been more than up to the task. Which I was reminded at church a couple of days ago by another parent, is something that we may have taken for granted - battling sibling jealously is something that just adds an extra layer of stress to an expanding family. Thankfully, we haven't had to deal with any of that, so yes, we are fortunate. Sure, our sleep patterns are no longer what they once were, once our son got accustomed to a regular bedtime and slept through the night and we can stay up and watch movies or whatever. On a day like today, where both kids are home and one is sick and the other is a bit fussy - well, I was telling my wife, it's hardly anything that I should complain about. The lack of sleep is not great, but that too, passes, as quickly as a toddler fart. I don't get those parents who want to have children badly, Very soon, our daughter will be sleeping through the night (hopefully sooner rather than later) and then she'll be talking and toilet training and then going to school, just like my little boy.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Easter Musings
I was at work today and I guess several people near the cubicle of a cafeteria that we have were wishing each other well for the long weekend (guess they were going to make it even longer by not being at work tomorrow). While I couldn't help by overhear the conversation (since it was the same gabby middle-aged females that seem to always congregate around the muffin area), I did find it interesting to note that their best wishes for the weekend were accompanied by "hope the Easter Bunny finds you well" and "hope your kids get lots of eggs."
Is it just me, or has everyone forgotten what Easter is really about? You know, I've had conversations with my son and he's told me that he knows Easter is about Jesus, but why people don't ever talk about Him. It's interesting to hear that out of the mouth of a four-year-old. It's hard to tell him that not everyone thinks Easter is about easter eggs when he goes to the store and that's all he sees, or the parents of the daycare drop off eggs and say "Happy Easter".
I think even the Christian retail industry, although they have for the most part, not indulged in the secularization of Easter, has not been entirely immune. And I've been told that the truth of Jesus' death and resurrection is too much for a little child to grasp. Perhaps, but for Petes' sake, don't substitute it with something so far from the truth as the freaking easter bunny. I have no problems telling my son there's no such thing as the easter bunny, the same way that I have no problems telling him there's no satan claus. Some have called me a party pooper, but do I really want to bold-face lie to my son about these things? And since I don't care what people think about my views anyway, I just ignore the criticism. I feel that my job in life as a parent is to get enough knowledge to my son so someday, he can make a decision to accept Jesus as his personal Saviour. If he does that, my job as a parent has been done. So, I do try to expose him as much to the Bible as possible - we're not talking home theology classes, but you know, have him seeing his Mom and Dad pray or reading Bible stories to him at night. The one thing I can probably do better on is modelling to him a proper devotional life, something that I must confess I'm not the greatest at keeping. But I really don't want, for any reason, to give in to the cultural dumbing down of Easter or Christmas.
If you really think about it, it is Jesus that bore the brunt of our sin on the cross at Calvary. The Passion of the Christ movie, as Hollywoodized as it is, is a fantastic reminder to ourselves what our Saviour had to go through. It certainly changes our perspective in terms of how we view His life, death and resurrection. I mean, the fact that I (and everyone else who simply accepts Him as their Saviour) have been given a second chance, despite the fact that I am a sinner and continue to sin, yet He is willing to forgive us over and over again if we come repentant, is something that is amazing to grasp. As humans, we usually lose our patience after a while with anything and give up. God, in His infinite grace, has decided that we were worth it to have his own Son die for us. To wash all of our sins away, make us new beings, bear a torturous execution that was drawn out way more than any civilized country these days would allow. And he had the power to turn back and chicken out, but He didn't. Because He loves us so much.
The least that we can do as His followers is not substitue a damn easter bunny or satan claus for our Lord and Saviour, no matter how culturally pressured we are to do so. Christian parents, especially, should have enough balls to tell their kids the truth about Easter, the truth about who Christ is, the truth about what the Word says about the "Six Hours One Friday", to borrow the title of the excellent book by Max Lucado. When kids see their parents fevertly and reverently worshipping the Lord in everything they do, it is probably the best witness of the Gospel that we can give to the next generation.
Is it just me, or has everyone forgotten what Easter is really about? You know, I've had conversations with my son and he's told me that he knows Easter is about Jesus, but why people don't ever talk about Him. It's interesting to hear that out of the mouth of a four-year-old. It's hard to tell him that not everyone thinks Easter is about easter eggs when he goes to the store and that's all he sees, or the parents of the daycare drop off eggs and say "Happy Easter".
I think even the Christian retail industry, although they have for the most part, not indulged in the secularization of Easter, has not been entirely immune. And I've been told that the truth of Jesus' death and resurrection is too much for a little child to grasp. Perhaps, but for Petes' sake, don't substitute it with something so far from the truth as the freaking easter bunny. I have no problems telling my son there's no such thing as the easter bunny, the same way that I have no problems telling him there's no satan claus. Some have called me a party pooper, but do I really want to bold-face lie to my son about these things? And since I don't care what people think about my views anyway, I just ignore the criticism. I feel that my job in life as a parent is to get enough knowledge to my son so someday, he can make a decision to accept Jesus as his personal Saviour. If he does that, my job as a parent has been done. So, I do try to expose him as much to the Bible as possible - we're not talking home theology classes, but you know, have him seeing his Mom and Dad pray or reading Bible stories to him at night. The one thing I can probably do better on is modelling to him a proper devotional life, something that I must confess I'm not the greatest at keeping. But I really don't want, for any reason, to give in to the cultural dumbing down of Easter or Christmas.
If you really think about it, it is Jesus that bore the brunt of our sin on the cross at Calvary. The Passion of the Christ movie, as Hollywoodized as it is, is a fantastic reminder to ourselves what our Saviour had to go through. It certainly changes our perspective in terms of how we view His life, death and resurrection. I mean, the fact that I (and everyone else who simply accepts Him as their Saviour) have been given a second chance, despite the fact that I am a sinner and continue to sin, yet He is willing to forgive us over and over again if we come repentant, is something that is amazing to grasp. As humans, we usually lose our patience after a while with anything and give up. God, in His infinite grace, has decided that we were worth it to have his own Son die for us. To wash all of our sins away, make us new beings, bear a torturous execution that was drawn out way more than any civilized country these days would allow. And he had the power to turn back and chicken out, but He didn't. Because He loves us so much.
The least that we can do as His followers is not substitue a damn easter bunny or satan claus for our Lord and Saviour, no matter how culturally pressured we are to do so. Christian parents, especially, should have enough balls to tell their kids the truth about Easter, the truth about who Christ is, the truth about what the Word says about the "Six Hours One Friday", to borrow the title of the excellent book by Max Lucado. When kids see their parents fevertly and reverently worshipping the Lord in everything they do, it is probably the best witness of the Gospel that we can give to the next generation.
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