I am not sure where I needed to go, but it was probably just another day where I was late getting T to school. Late is not good when it comes to T. There is no special reasoning with him in that situation. I can't simply say,"T we are late we need to hurry up." That approach had been tried and found to be lacking. It leads to less cooperation, not more. Because of this, when some simple solution presents itself it would be foolish not to take advantage of it.
I was trying to change T out of his pajamas and into his clothes for school. He was being particularly difficult. He would not put his clothes on himself. I was having no luck in attempting to convince him verbally, so I went ahead and tried to assist him. That lead to the kicking spell that almost was so bad I would have had to name it like a tropical storm. Legs were flying in all directions and getting a foot though a leg hole in the underwear, not working for me. Grab a foot, put the foot in the hole, grab another foot, too late the first one is out of the hole already. It went this way for a few minutes before I gave up and paused. That is when it happened.
He said, "I want to put my underwear on over there." I looked over to where he was pointing and it was at the end of his bed. Hey, if that is going to move this along, I am all for it. "OK, that's a good idea." I said. We both got up and walked over to the area and he stood there with his foot up waiting for me to slide it into the underwear. I put his foot through, and then he raised the other one. Those went on easily, and after that battle I was not going to start over with the pants. "That's a good place to put on underwear", I commented. "Where would you think a good place would be to put on your pants on?"
"Over there!", he said, pointing to the opposite corner of the room. We moved over to the other corner, and put on his pants.
"What about your shirt?", I asked smiling at him. He was no longer upset, and now laughing at the opportunity to pick places to get his clothes on.
"Over by the bear.", he said,pointing to the big over-sized stuffed bear sitting on the floor under his window.
Soon all his clothes were on, he was happy, and we were ready to go to school.
The next day, we were about to go through the battle again, when I remembered this magic solution. I think if you were looking at me you could actually see the little light bulb light up over my head like in cartoons. "T, Where do we put on under wear? Is it over there?," I said that pointing to the bear. T loves the game of me being wrong, so he can tell me the right answer. Plus, I figure it will pay off for me when he is older and I really don't know the answer. I will be able to pretend I am just playing the game. Anyway, T catches on to this right away and says,"Noooo, it is over there." He points to the end of the bed and runs over there. I follow and we start the process of getting dressed, and with the new system of magic clothes changing places he is dressed in record time.
So, I have been using these places frequently, and for some reason I never mentioned it to my wife L. Tonight however, Q was having some trouble falling asleep and L was looking like she needed a break from trying, so I volunteered to rock her for a while if she would give T a bath and put him in bed. So, we swapped duties for the night. She took care of T and got him all settled into bed, and I was lucky enough to get Q to drink her bottle and she actually fell asleep for me. It may have been that my lullabies were so out of key she decided to fake sleep to make me stop singing, but I'll just say she fell asleep. L and I met in the living room to talk about how it went for both of us. I told her Q was sleeping, and she told me T was in bed and looking like he was about to fall into sleep soon. Then she asked me,"Did you know he has to change his shirt over by the bear?"
I laughed out loud and thought I should tell her the story. Now you all know.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Getting Dressed for School
I am not sure where I needed to go, but it was probably just another day where I was late getting T to school. Late is not good when it comes to T. There is no special reasoning with him in that situation. I can't simply say,"T we are late we need to hurry up." That approach had been tried and found to be lacking. It leads to less cooperation, not more. Because of this, when some simple solution presents itself it would be foolish not to take advantage of it.
I was trying to change T out of his pajamas and into his clothes for school. He was being particularly difficult. He would not put his clothes on himself. I was having no luck in attempting to convince him verbally, so I went ahead and tried to assist him. That lead to the kicking spell that almost was so bad I would have had to name it like a tropical storm. Legs were flying in all directions and getting a foot though a leg hole in the underwear, not working for me. Grab a foot, put the foot in the hole, grab another foot, too late the first one is out of the hole already. It went this way for a few minutes before I gave up and paused. That is when it happened.
He said, "I want to put my underwear on over there." I looked over to where he was pointing and it was at the end of his bed. Hey, if that is going to move this along, I am all for it. "OK, that's a good idea." I said. We both got up and walked over to the area and he stood there with his foot up waiting for me to slide it into the underwear. I put his foot through, and then he raised the other one. Those went on easily, and after that battle I was not going to start over with the pants. "That's a good place to put on underwear", I commented. "Where would you think a good place would be to put on your pants on?"
"Over there!", he said, pointing to the opposite corner of the room. We moved over to the other corner, and put on his pants.
"What about your shirt?", I asked smiling at him. He was no longer upset, and now laughing at the opportunity to pick places to get his clothes on.
"Over by the bear.", he said,pointing to the big over-sized stuffed bear sitting on the floor under his window.
Soon all his clothes were on, he was happy, and we were ready to go to school.
The next day, we were about to go through the battle again, when I remembered this magic solution. I think if you were looking at me you could actually see the little light bulb light up over my head like in cartoons. "T, Where do we put on under wear? Is it over there?," I said that pointing to the bear. T loves the game of me being wrong, so he can tell me the right answer. Plus, I figure it will pay off for me when he is older and I really don't know the answer. I will be able to pretend I am just playing the game. Anyway, T catches on to this right away and says,"Noooo, it is over there." He points to the end of the bed and runs over there. I follow and we start the process of getting dressed, and with the new system of magic clothes changing places he is dressed in record time.
So, I have been using these places frequently, and for some reason I never mentioned it to my wife L. Tonight however, Q was having some trouble falling asleep and L was looking like she needed a break from trying, so I volunteered to rock her for a while if she would give T a bath and put him in bed. So, we swapped duties for the night. She took care of T and got him all settled into bed, and I was lucky enough to get Q to drink her bottle and she actually fell asleep for me. It may have been that my lullabies were so out of key she decided to fake sleep to make me stop singing, but I'll just say she fell asleep. L and I met in the living room to talk about how it went for both of us. I told her Q was sleeping, and she told me T was in bed and looking like he was about to fall into sleep soon. Then she asked me,"Did you know he has to change his shirt over by the bear?"
I laughed out loud and thought I should tell her the story. Now you all know.
I was trying to change T out of his pajamas and into his clothes for school. He was being particularly difficult. He would not put his clothes on himself. I was having no luck in attempting to convince him verbally, so I went ahead and tried to assist him. That lead to the kicking spell that almost was so bad I would have had to name it like a tropical storm. Legs were flying in all directions and getting a foot though a leg hole in the underwear, not working for me. Grab a foot, put the foot in the hole, grab another foot, too late the first one is out of the hole already. It went this way for a few minutes before I gave up and paused. That is when it happened.
He said, "I want to put my underwear on over there." I looked over to where he was pointing and it was at the end of his bed. Hey, if that is going to move this along, I am all for it. "OK, that's a good idea." I said. We both got up and walked over to the area and he stood there with his foot up waiting for me to slide it into the underwear. I put his foot through, and then he raised the other one. Those went on easily, and after that battle I was not going to start over with the pants. "That's a good place to put on underwear", I commented. "Where would you think a good place would be to put on your pants on?"
"Over there!", he said, pointing to the opposite corner of the room. We moved over to the other corner, and put on his pants.
"What about your shirt?", I asked smiling at him. He was no longer upset, and now laughing at the opportunity to pick places to get his clothes on.
"Over by the bear.", he said,pointing to the big over-sized stuffed bear sitting on the floor under his window.
Soon all his clothes were on, he was happy, and we were ready to go to school.
The next day, we were about to go through the battle again, when I remembered this magic solution. I think if you were looking at me you could actually see the little light bulb light up over my head like in cartoons. "T, Where do we put on under wear? Is it over there?," I said that pointing to the bear. T loves the game of me being wrong, so he can tell me the right answer. Plus, I figure it will pay off for me when he is older and I really don't know the answer. I will be able to pretend I am just playing the game. Anyway, T catches on to this right away and says,"Noooo, it is over there." He points to the end of the bed and runs over there. I follow and we start the process of getting dressed, and with the new system of magic clothes changing places he is dressed in record time.
So, I have been using these places frequently, and for some reason I never mentioned it to my wife L. Tonight however, Q was having some trouble falling asleep and L was looking like she needed a break from trying, so I volunteered to rock her for a while if she would give T a bath and put him in bed. So, we swapped duties for the night. She took care of T and got him all settled into bed, and I was lucky enough to get Q to drink her bottle and she actually fell asleep for me. It may have been that my lullabies were so out of key she decided to fake sleep to make me stop singing, but I'll just say she fell asleep. L and I met in the living room to talk about how it went for both of us. I told her Q was sleeping, and she told me T was in bed and looking like he was about to fall into sleep soon. Then she asked me,"Did you know he has to change his shirt over by the bear?"
I laughed out loud and thought I should tell her the story. Now you all know.
End of the Flock
The chickens are gone! Oh joy and wonder, I thought the day would never come. Unless you work on a chicken farm that raises broilers for nine weeks, you have no idea how challenging it can get. I am always amazed at the end of a flock how difficult and painful this job is. I think that people stay in this business because of something similar to birth amnesia. You go through a period of severe pain and swear you will never do it again, but as soon as that pain is over and you are having a good time, you forget how bad it was and just remember the good stuff. Please don't think I compare the pain from some hard work to that of labor. I'm simply stating that I get the amnesia part after the flock is over. Once the new flock is settled in, and the work gets easy, I am all about how much I love chicken farming.
In the beginning of a flock, it is a little difficult for about a week and a half. Not nealy as bad as the end of the flock. There is just a lot to do for that first week with the baby chicks. After that there are about five and a half weeks that it is fairly easy. The chicks are small, and have plenty of room to run around. They stay out of your way as you walk through the house looking for the ones who passed away over night. I can walk though the houses in a few hours and get everything done. It is still a seven day a week job, but during that time it is a great job. That is when I love being a chicken farmer. I have lots of time for my family and time to get some repairs done on the farm and may even be able to spend the four days it takes to mow the lawn. You may hear me say,"I love chicken farming." at this time of the flock.
Then along comes the seventh, eighth and ninth weeks. Can you hear the depressing music come up in the back gound? Sense the lights dimming as I begin my explanation of the dreaded time of the flock? The chickens are getting bigger, and heavier each week. The number of deceased gets larger as they get bigger and carrying them out gets more difficult. The larger chickens take up more space, so the houses which were easy to walk through earlier with the lighter load, now get to the point where walking through the house is more like dancing with a toddler. You know how they stand on your feet and you dance them around the room? Well, it is fun for a dance or two, try to do that for about five hours straight while carrying up to fifty pounds in each arm and trying to waive a stick to help get the other dancers to move away from you so you can keep going. The chickens constantly run across your feet as you walk. They weigh up to 10 pounds and are terrible dance partners. By the time I am done with the houses for the day I am exhausted. For the last week I hire at least one other person to help me and it is still a five or more hour job with two people. I have had it so bad that it took over six hours with five people working. That would be a bad flock. This flock was not too bad. The chickens got fairly big considering it is a summer flock in Georgia. Plus, with L working I am doing baby duty on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That made this flock much easier for me physically. It gave my body a little rest during the week to help me have energy on the days I was working.
The final day, when they are going to pick up the chickens, is typically very long. This flock it went like this: On Wednesday night at 11:00 PM I go down and shut off the food on the first house. That took about an hour to get the last of the food into the house and shut off the feed lines. I go back to the house, shower and then can sleep until 2 a.m. At that time I get ready and go down to the first house to take out their food bins, and raise up the feed lines so that can not eat any more food. They still can have water, so the water lines stay down. This took forty-five minutes. I go back up to my house again and wash up, and then rest for a while. At 5 a.m. it is back down again to start raising up the drinking lines and preparing the house for the catching crew to come in. Everything gets raised up and out of the way for the fork lifts and workers. The workers come at 7 a.m. and start to pick up the chickens for this first house. It takes about two hours for them to clear a house with 20,000 chickens if they use two crews of guys and two fork lifts. One house done.
I do this set up and preparation all day Thursday for the rest of the houses and by 3 a.m. on Friday morning the crews are done and and I can go up and close the doors and turn off the lights on the final house. This time it was about 28 hours from start to finish with a few breaks here and there for me to rest. I seldom get to actually sleep for more than an hour or two in a row. It makes me very sore, and definitely sleepy. I begin to catch up about two days later.
All that is left now is to wait for the news on how big the chickens were and to see what the check will be. Well, of course there is the matter of getting set up for next flock. I will need to blow the dust and dirt out of the houses, get the litter hauled out, spray disinfectant, spread insecticide to kill beetles, clean all the fans, grease all the fan bearings, grease the bearings on the bins, repair the curtain ropes that broke during the flock, then get pine shavings put in and start setting up the equipment for feed lines and drinkers... Here we go again.
In the beginning of a flock, it is a little difficult for about a week and a half. Not nealy as bad as the end of the flock. There is just a lot to do for that first week with the baby chicks. After that there are about five and a half weeks that it is fairly easy. The chicks are small, and have plenty of room to run around. They stay out of your way as you walk through the house looking for the ones who passed away over night. I can walk though the houses in a few hours and get everything done. It is still a seven day a week job, but during that time it is a great job. That is when I love being a chicken farmer. I have lots of time for my family and time to get some repairs done on the farm and may even be able to spend the four days it takes to mow the lawn. You may hear me say,"I love chicken farming." at this time of the flock.
Then along comes the seventh, eighth and ninth weeks. Can you hear the depressing music come up in the back gound? Sense the lights dimming as I begin my explanation of the dreaded time of the flock? The chickens are getting bigger, and heavier each week. The number of deceased gets larger as they get bigger and carrying them out gets more difficult. The larger chickens take up more space, so the houses which were easy to walk through earlier with the lighter load, now get to the point where walking through the house is more like dancing with a toddler. You know how they stand on your feet and you dance them around the room? Well, it is fun for a dance or two, try to do that for about five hours straight while carrying up to fifty pounds in each arm and trying to waive a stick to help get the other dancers to move away from you so you can keep going. The chickens constantly run across your feet as you walk. They weigh up to 10 pounds and are terrible dance partners. By the time I am done with the houses for the day I am exhausted. For the last week I hire at least one other person to help me and it is still a five or more hour job with two people. I have had it so bad that it took over six hours with five people working. That would be a bad flock. This flock was not too bad. The chickens got fairly big considering it is a summer flock in Georgia. Plus, with L working I am doing baby duty on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That made this flock much easier for me physically. It gave my body a little rest during the week to help me have energy on the days I was working.
The final day, when they are going to pick up the chickens, is typically very long. This flock it went like this: On Wednesday night at 11:00 PM I go down and shut off the food on the first house. That took about an hour to get the last of the food into the house and shut off the feed lines. I go back to the house, shower and then can sleep until 2 a.m. At that time I get ready and go down to the first house to take out their food bins, and raise up the feed lines so that can not eat any more food. They still can have water, so the water lines stay down. This took forty-five minutes. I go back up to my house again and wash up, and then rest for a while. At 5 a.m. it is back down again to start raising up the drinking lines and preparing the house for the catching crew to come in. Everything gets raised up and out of the way for the fork lifts and workers. The workers come at 7 a.m. and start to pick up the chickens for this first house. It takes about two hours for them to clear a house with 20,000 chickens if they use two crews of guys and two fork lifts. One house done.
I do this set up and preparation all day Thursday for the rest of the houses and by 3 a.m. on Friday morning the crews are done and and I can go up and close the doors and turn off the lights on the final house. This time it was about 28 hours from start to finish with a few breaks here and there for me to rest. I seldom get to actually sleep for more than an hour or two in a row. It makes me very sore, and definitely sleepy. I begin to catch up about two days later.
All that is left now is to wait for the news on how big the chickens were and to see what the check will be. Well, of course there is the matter of getting set up for next flock. I will need to blow the dust and dirt out of the houses, get the litter hauled out, spray disinfectant, spread insecticide to kill beetles, clean all the fans, grease all the fan bearings, grease the bearings on the bins, repair the curtain ropes that broke during the flock, then get pine shavings put in and start setting up the equipment for feed lines and drinkers... Here we go again.
End of the Flock
The chickens are gone! Oh joy and wonder, I thought the day would never come. Unless you work on a chicken farm that raises broilers for nine weeks, you have no idea how challenging it can get. I am always amazed at the end of a flock how difficult and painful this job is. I think that people stay in this business because of something similar to birth amnesia. You go through a period of severe pain and swear you will never do it again, but as soon as that pain is over and you are having a good time, you forget how bad it was and just remember the good stuff. Please don't think I compare the pain from some hard work to that of labor. I'm simply stating that I get the amnesia part after the flock is over. Once the new flock is settled in, and the work gets easy, I am all about how much I love chicken farming.
In the beginning of a flock, it is a little difficult for about a week and a half. Not nealy as bad as the end of the flock. There is just a lot to do for that first week with the baby chicks. After that there are about five and a half weeks that it is fairly easy. The chicks are small, and have plenty of room to run around. They stay out of your way as you walk through the house looking for the ones who passed away over night. I can walk though the houses in a few hours and get everything done. It is still a seven day a week job, but during that time it is a great job. That is when I love being a chicken farmer. I have lots of time for my family and time to get some repairs done on the farm and may even be able to spend the four days it takes to mow the lawn. You may hear me say,"I love chicken farming." at this time of the flock.
Then along comes the seventh, eighth and ninth weeks. Can you hear the depressing music come up in the back gound? Sense the lights dimming as I begin my explanation of the dreaded time of the flock? The chickens are getting bigger, and heavier each week. The number of deceased gets larger as they get bigger and carrying them out gets more difficult. The larger chickens take up more space, so the houses which were easy to walk through earlier with the lighter load, now get to the point where walking through the house is more like dancing with a toddler. You know how they stand on your feet and you dance them around the room? Well, it is fun for a dance or two, try to do that for about five hours straight while carrying up to fifty pounds in each arm and trying to waive a stick to help get the other dancers to move away from you so you can keep going. The chickens constantly run across your feet as you walk. They weigh up to 10 pounds and are terrible dance partners. By the time I am done with the houses for the day I am exhausted. For the last week I hire at least one other person to help me and it is still a five or more hour job with two people. I have had it so bad that it took over six hours with five people working. That would be a bad flock. This flock was not too bad. The chickens got fairly big considering it is a summer flock in Georgia. Plus, with L working I am doing baby duty on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That made this flock much easier for me physically. It gave my body a little rest during the week to help me have energy on the days I was working.
The final day, when they are going to pick up the chickens, is typically very long. This flock it went like this: On Wednesday night at 11:00 PM I go down and shut off the food on the first house. That took about an hour to get the last of the food into the house and shut off the feed lines. I go back to the house, shower and then can sleep until 2 a.m. At that time I get ready and go down to the first house to take out their food bins, and raise up the feed lines so that can not eat any more food. They still can have water, so the water lines stay down. This took forty-five minutes. I go back up to my house again and wash up, and then rest for a while. At 5 a.m. it is back down again to start raising up the drinking lines and preparing the house for the catching crew to come in. Everything gets raised up and out of the way for the fork lifts and workers. The workers come at 7 a.m. and start to pick up the chickens for this first house. It takes about two hours for them to clear a house with 20,000 chickens if they use two crews of guys and two fork lifts. One house done.
I do this set up and preparation all day Thursday for the rest of the houses and by 3 a.m. on Friday morning the crews are done and and I can go up and close the doors and turn off the lights on the final house. This time it was about 28 hours from start to finish with a few breaks here and there for me to rest. I seldom get to actually sleep for more than an hour or two in a row. It makes me very sore, and definitely sleepy. I begin to catch up about two days later.
All that is left now is to wait for the news on how big the chickens were and to see what the check will be. Well, of course there is the matter of getting set up for next flock. I will need to blow the dust and dirt out of the houses, get the litter hauled out, spray disinfectant, spread insecticide to kill beetles, clean all the fans, grease all the fan bearings, grease the bearings on the bins, repair the curtain ropes that broke during the flock, then get pine shavings put in and start setting up the equipment for feed lines and drinkers... Here we go again.
In the beginning of a flock, it is a little difficult for about a week and a half. Not nealy as bad as the end of the flock. There is just a lot to do for that first week with the baby chicks. After that there are about five and a half weeks that it is fairly easy. The chicks are small, and have plenty of room to run around. They stay out of your way as you walk through the house looking for the ones who passed away over night. I can walk though the houses in a few hours and get everything done. It is still a seven day a week job, but during that time it is a great job. That is when I love being a chicken farmer. I have lots of time for my family and time to get some repairs done on the farm and may even be able to spend the four days it takes to mow the lawn. You may hear me say,"I love chicken farming." at this time of the flock.
Then along comes the seventh, eighth and ninth weeks. Can you hear the depressing music come up in the back gound? Sense the lights dimming as I begin my explanation of the dreaded time of the flock? The chickens are getting bigger, and heavier each week. The number of deceased gets larger as they get bigger and carrying them out gets more difficult. The larger chickens take up more space, so the houses which were easy to walk through earlier with the lighter load, now get to the point where walking through the house is more like dancing with a toddler. You know how they stand on your feet and you dance them around the room? Well, it is fun for a dance or two, try to do that for about five hours straight while carrying up to fifty pounds in each arm and trying to waive a stick to help get the other dancers to move away from you so you can keep going. The chickens constantly run across your feet as you walk. They weigh up to 10 pounds and are terrible dance partners. By the time I am done with the houses for the day I am exhausted. For the last week I hire at least one other person to help me and it is still a five or more hour job with two people. I have had it so bad that it took over six hours with five people working. That would be a bad flock. This flock was not too bad. The chickens got fairly big considering it is a summer flock in Georgia. Plus, with L working I am doing baby duty on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That made this flock much easier for me physically. It gave my body a little rest during the week to help me have energy on the days I was working.
The final day, when they are going to pick up the chickens, is typically very long. This flock it went like this: On Wednesday night at 11:00 PM I go down and shut off the food on the first house. That took about an hour to get the last of the food into the house and shut off the feed lines. I go back to the house, shower and then can sleep until 2 a.m. At that time I get ready and go down to the first house to take out their food bins, and raise up the feed lines so that can not eat any more food. They still can have water, so the water lines stay down. This took forty-five minutes. I go back up to my house again and wash up, and then rest for a while. At 5 a.m. it is back down again to start raising up the drinking lines and preparing the house for the catching crew to come in. Everything gets raised up and out of the way for the fork lifts and workers. The workers come at 7 a.m. and start to pick up the chickens for this first house. It takes about two hours for them to clear a house with 20,000 chickens if they use two crews of guys and two fork lifts. One house done.
I do this set up and preparation all day Thursday for the rest of the houses and by 3 a.m. on Friday morning the crews are done and and I can go up and close the doors and turn off the lights on the final house. This time it was about 28 hours from start to finish with a few breaks here and there for me to rest. I seldom get to actually sleep for more than an hour or two in a row. It makes me very sore, and definitely sleepy. I begin to catch up about two days later.
All that is left now is to wait for the news on how big the chickens were and to see what the check will be. Well, of course there is the matter of getting set up for next flock. I will need to blow the dust and dirt out of the houses, get the litter hauled out, spray disinfectant, spread insecticide to kill beetles, clean all the fans, grease all the fan bearings, grease the bearings on the bins, repair the curtain ropes that broke during the flock, then get pine shavings put in and start setting up the equipment for feed lines and drinkers... Here we go again.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
God's Little Joke
When I was young, I remember sleeping in on weekends. Sleeping in to me meant practically until noon. I loved to sleep. I know it annoyed my parents to no end. I knew because they commented on it quite frequently. It didn't matter if I stayed up late, which I can't really remember being allowed to do very often, or if I went to bed early. I still slept as long as I possibly could in the morning.
Then I grew up and went to college where late nights were pretty much the norm. For the most part, I always made my class schedules sleep-in friendly. I would start making my schedule at the beginning of every semester in the same manner, by crossing out 8:00 am on the scheduling paper and working from there. Getting a good education was a priority in college, but that didn't mean I had to give up sleep to do it. I mean, isn't the world just so much better when you have woken up naturally, without the annoying sound of an alarm clock buzzing in your ear?
I do have a theory that the whole sleep thing may be related to the time of day you were born. I was born at 1 am. Somehow it must set some internal clock and that determines if you are a day person or a night person. I am a night person. T on the other hand was born later in the afternoon. Some how that must relate to waking up early. He loves mornings like my old drill sergeant loved training in the rain. "Ain't nothing but refreshing liquid sunshine." he would say. T wakes up in the morning and from the comfort of my cozy bed I am awoken by the thunderous sound of three year old feet running at full speed across the kitchen floor towards our bedroom door. Who runs full speed so early in the morning? And by early I mean anywhere from 4:45am to, if I am really lucky, he may sleep as late as 6:00am. In my parents world that would be just in time to make it to a late breakfast. I just see it as "time before the sun comes up". In my perfect world no one would be up that early except bakers and coffee makers.
The only explanation for this is that either my parents had someone put a curse on me to amuse themselves, or else God has a wacky sense of humor. And in either case, I am looking for the place to file a formal protest. Seriously, genetically speaking if my wife likes to sleep, and I like to sleep we should produce an offspring that likes to sleep. But no, we made a child that will only take a nap if I trick him by having him sit on the couch with me and watch something so boring on TV that the force of gravity will eventually win and his eyes will close long enough for sleep to take over. Unfortunately it works on me as well, and I fall asleep. That takes away the little extra bonus that parents get from nap time, free time to be able to get something done. (Not that I have a lot to do.)
Typically, what we end up with is a little boy that gets overly tired by bed time and that makes him emotional and difficult to get to sleep. He then fights every attempt to get him ready for bed, and we end up going to bed later than expected. Which at one time I secretly thought was a great idea; he would be really tired and sleep later. My hopes were crushed when after staying up several hours later than his usual bedtime the night before, he still came running across the kitchen floor just as early the next morning. Oh well, I assume one day it will end and I will be dragging his sleeping body out of bed in a desperate attempt to get food in him and get him to school on time. I wonder if then I will be complaining about that? At least I will be better rested and hopefully able to state my case more clearly and concisely.
Then I grew up and went to college where late nights were pretty much the norm. For the most part, I always made my class schedules sleep-in friendly. I would start making my schedule at the beginning of every semester in the same manner, by crossing out 8:00 am on the scheduling paper and working from there. Getting a good education was a priority in college, but that didn't mean I had to give up sleep to do it. I mean, isn't the world just so much better when you have woken up naturally, without the annoying sound of an alarm clock buzzing in your ear?
I do have a theory that the whole sleep thing may be related to the time of day you were born. I was born at 1 am. Somehow it must set some internal clock and that determines if you are a day person or a night person. I am a night person. T on the other hand was born later in the afternoon. Some how that must relate to waking up early. He loves mornings like my old drill sergeant loved training in the rain. "Ain't nothing but refreshing liquid sunshine." he would say. T wakes up in the morning and from the comfort of my cozy bed I am awoken by the thunderous sound of three year old feet running at full speed across the kitchen floor towards our bedroom door. Who runs full speed so early in the morning? And by early I mean anywhere from 4:45am to, if I am really lucky, he may sleep as late as 6:00am. In my parents world that would be just in time to make it to a late breakfast. I just see it as "time before the sun comes up". In my perfect world no one would be up that early except bakers and coffee makers.
The only explanation for this is that either my parents had someone put a curse on me to amuse themselves, or else God has a wacky sense of humor. And in either case, I am looking for the place to file a formal protest. Seriously, genetically speaking if my wife likes to sleep, and I like to sleep we should produce an offspring that likes to sleep. But no, we made a child that will only take a nap if I trick him by having him sit on the couch with me and watch something so boring on TV that the force of gravity will eventually win and his eyes will close long enough for sleep to take over. Unfortunately it works on me as well, and I fall asleep. That takes away the little extra bonus that parents get from nap time, free time to be able to get something done. (Not that I have a lot to do.)
Typically, what we end up with is a little boy that gets overly tired by bed time and that makes him emotional and difficult to get to sleep. He then fights every attempt to get him ready for bed, and we end up going to bed later than expected. Which at one time I secretly thought was a great idea; he would be really tired and sleep later. My hopes were crushed when after staying up several hours later than his usual bedtime the night before, he still came running across the kitchen floor just as early the next morning. Oh well, I assume one day it will end and I will be dragging his sleeping body out of bed in a desperate attempt to get food in him and get him to school on time. I wonder if then I will be complaining about that? At least I will be better rested and hopefully able to state my case more clearly and concisely.
God's Little Joke
When I was young, I remember sleeping in on weekends. Sleeping in to me meant practically until noon. I loved to sleep. I know it annoyed my parents to no end. I knew because they commented on it quite frequently. It didn't matter if I stayed up late, which I can't really remember being allowed to do very often, or if I went to bed early. I still slept as long as I possibly could in the morning.
Then I grew up and went to college where late nights were pretty much the norm. For the most part, I always made my class schedules sleep-in friendly. I would start making my schedule at the beginning of every semester in the same manner, by crossing out 8:00 am on the scheduling paper and working from there. Getting a good education was a priority in college, but that didn't mean I had to give up sleep to do it. I mean, isn't the world just so much better when you have woken up naturally, without the annoying sound of an alarm clock buzzing in your ear?
I do have a theory that the whole sleep thing may be related to the time of day you were born. I was born at 1 am. Somehow it must set some internal clock and that determines if you are a day person or a night person. I am a night person. T on the other hand was born later in the afternoon. Some how that must relate to waking up early. He loves mornings like my old drill sergeant loved training in the rain. "Ain't nothing but refreshing liquid sunshine." he would say. T wakes up in the morning and from the comfort of my cozy bed I am awoken by the thunderous sound of three year old feet running at full speed across the kitchen floor towards our bedroom door. Who runs full speed so early in the morning? And by early I mean anywhere from 4:45am to, if I am really lucky, he may sleep as late as 6:00am. In my parents world that would be just in time to make it to a late breakfast. I just see it as "time before the sun comes up". In my perfect world no one would be up that early except bakers and coffee makers.
The only explanation for this is that either my parents had someone put a curse on me to amuse themselves, or else God has a wacky sense of humor. And in either case, I am looking for the place to file a formal protest. Seriously, genetically speaking if my wife likes to sleep, and I like to sleep we should produce an offspring that likes to sleep. But no, we made a child that will only take a nap if I trick him by having him sit on the couch with me and watch something so boring on TV that the force of gravity will eventually win and his eyes will close long enough for sleep to take over. Unfortunately it works on me as well, and I fall asleep. That takes away the little extra bonus that parents get from nap time, free time to be able to get something done. (Not that I have a lot to do.)
Typically, what we end up with is a little boy that gets overly tired by bed time and that makes him emotional and difficult to get to sleep. He then fights every attempt to get him ready for bed, and we end up going to bed later than expected. Which at one time I secretly thought was a great idea; he would be really tired and sleep later. My hopes were crushed when after staying up several hours later than his usual bedtime the night before, he still came running across the kitchen floor just as early the next morning. Oh well, I assume one day it will end and I will be dragging his sleeping body out of bed in a desperate attempt to get food in him and get him to school on time. I wonder if then I will be complaining about that? At least I will be better rested and hopefully able to state my case more clearly and concisely.
Then I grew up and went to college where late nights were pretty much the norm. For the most part, I always made my class schedules sleep-in friendly. I would start making my schedule at the beginning of every semester in the same manner, by crossing out 8:00 am on the scheduling paper and working from there. Getting a good education was a priority in college, but that didn't mean I had to give up sleep to do it. I mean, isn't the world just so much better when you have woken up naturally, without the annoying sound of an alarm clock buzzing in your ear?
I do have a theory that the whole sleep thing may be related to the time of day you were born. I was born at 1 am. Somehow it must set some internal clock and that determines if you are a day person or a night person. I am a night person. T on the other hand was born later in the afternoon. Some how that must relate to waking up early. He loves mornings like my old drill sergeant loved training in the rain. "Ain't nothing but refreshing liquid sunshine." he would say. T wakes up in the morning and from the comfort of my cozy bed I am awoken by the thunderous sound of three year old feet running at full speed across the kitchen floor towards our bedroom door. Who runs full speed so early in the morning? And by early I mean anywhere from 4:45am to, if I am really lucky, he may sleep as late as 6:00am. In my parents world that would be just in time to make it to a late breakfast. I just see it as "time before the sun comes up". In my perfect world no one would be up that early except bakers and coffee makers.
The only explanation for this is that either my parents had someone put a curse on me to amuse themselves, or else God has a wacky sense of humor. And in either case, I am looking for the place to file a formal protest. Seriously, genetically speaking if my wife likes to sleep, and I like to sleep we should produce an offspring that likes to sleep. But no, we made a child that will only take a nap if I trick him by having him sit on the couch with me and watch something so boring on TV that the force of gravity will eventually win and his eyes will close long enough for sleep to take over. Unfortunately it works on me as well, and I fall asleep. That takes away the little extra bonus that parents get from nap time, free time to be able to get something done. (Not that I have a lot to do.)
Typically, what we end up with is a little boy that gets overly tired by bed time and that makes him emotional and difficult to get to sleep. He then fights every attempt to get him ready for bed, and we end up going to bed later than expected. Which at one time I secretly thought was a great idea; he would be really tired and sleep later. My hopes were crushed when after staying up several hours later than his usual bedtime the night before, he still came running across the kitchen floor just as early the next morning. Oh well, I assume one day it will end and I will be dragging his sleeping body out of bed in a desperate attempt to get food in him and get him to school on time. I wonder if then I will be complaining about that? At least I will be better rested and hopefully able to state my case more clearly and concisely.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Smarter than Dad
It is quite a strange feeling when you realize that your child is going to be smarter than you. I am pretty sure that is the case with T. I was a very slow starter and don't think I gave learning a second thought until probably around the time I returned from the Gulf War. For some reason spending a few months facing your possible mortality changes the way you see the world. I am not positive, but I think I made the dean's list every quarter after I returned from the gulf, and before that time I think I spent a lot of time on the list for the pool table down at Kelly's Bar. So, there had to have been some change.
I just never thought of myself as smart. That was my brother. He is smart. He seemed to spend a few minutes studying and the rest partying, but managed to come out of college at the top of his class. It just didn't come that easy for me, so I just assumed I wasn't smart enough, so why really try? Anyway, turns out I did OK after I realized that I needed to try.
When I watch T now, I just see things happening in his head. He thinks things out. He learns like a sponge, and it just amazes me. For example, we got him a computer because he watched us using ours and was so interested in it we couldn't keep his hands off of it. So now he has his own. Remember he is three years old. Here is a short conversation that could happen any morning.
T says he wants to watch Thomas the Tank Engine on his computer. I tell him," OK, go tun on your computer."
"OK Daddy." He pushes the power button. It lights up and the computer starts to load.
Since that computer got loaded with two different operating systems it has a screen that comes up asking you which OS to use, and T knows when that comes up it is on the right one so he just hits the enter key.
"It's loading Daddy."
"OK T you are doing a great job being patient."
The computer loads and his desktop appears. He waits a little while, but is still 3 and patients is sometimes over rated. He finds the Internet explorer icon on the desk top for the Thomas website, and clicks it. Nothing happens.
"Daddy, it didn't work."
"Put the mouse pointer in the center of it, and click two times fast."
Click, click. IE opens up and there is Thomas's website. He starts navigating around the site and goes to videos. He is a little impatient when he clicks things, so occasionally this will lock it up, especially videos. "Daddy, it's not working again." I look over and see where the video screen is black and not loading.
"Press the f-5 key." He looks over the keyboard to where he knows that key is. I can see his finger hover over f-9 for a second, but then moves over to f-5 because he sees the 5. He pushes it and waits for it to load. Thomas comes up, his video comes up and it starts playing. He turns to me, and smiles at his success, then goes back to watching.
I think to myself that, first of all computers were not in homes when I was 3, but even when I had my first computer class in high school I don't think I was much more computer literate than he is. If you think about it, just knowing how to move the mouse around, he can drag and drop things, click on things, double click things, close windows and I am not sure but I think I saw him buy something on Ebay. But seriously, that's a lot to know about using a computer. Not to mention that f-5 key refreshes the page. He does that now without asking me if something gets stuck. I showed him once and he has it already. He uses the paint program to draw lines and shapes and then uses the paint brush tool and ink fill tools to color them. He used to ask for help, but now he does fairly well with very little assistance. At this pace I think next year I am going to take the computer apart and show him the internal side and tell him what all the components do. I think he could rebuild a computer soon.
I know, I am probably your typical parent who thinks every time his child does anything he is a genius. And he may very well be totally normal in all abilities. I wouldn't mind that at all. It just shows I am a proud dad who just sees the very best in his son. Either way, I am fairly certain that what I see is a kid who definitely shows signs of being a lot smarter than his dad was at every age. With that said, it would only make sense that I would want to be an over bearing dad and try to encourage him to reach his potential. So, I tell him quite frequently that I think he should be a doctor so he can help people. If you are smart, you should use that talent to help people the best way you can. For a while he would say he is going to be a doctor. Dad was happy. Then one day dad introduced T to the chickens on the farm we run. That was way cooler than being a doctor that gave him a shot in the leg and made him cry. Since then he has wanted to go down to the farm when I go and check on stuff. He loves looking at the feed bins and as he has seen me do before, tap on the sides to see if they are full or empty. Even though his reach allows him only to tap on the clear plastic part that you can already see if there is food in it or not. He taps, listens and determines if it sounded empty or full and reports it to me. "That one is full."
Now when I say,"You are going to be a doctor, right? So you can help people." He says, "No, I am going to be a chicken farmer." He puts on his baseball cap, like daddy wears to work, adjusts it, and smiles at me. I feel proud that he wants to be like me, and hopeful that someday he learns he can be better than me.
I just never thought of myself as smart. That was my brother. He is smart. He seemed to spend a few minutes studying and the rest partying, but managed to come out of college at the top of his class. It just didn't come that easy for me, so I just assumed I wasn't smart enough, so why really try? Anyway, turns out I did OK after I realized that I needed to try.
When I watch T now, I just see things happening in his head. He thinks things out. He learns like a sponge, and it just amazes me. For example, we got him a computer because he watched us using ours and was so interested in it we couldn't keep his hands off of it. So now he has his own. Remember he is three years old. Here is a short conversation that could happen any morning.
T says he wants to watch Thomas the Tank Engine on his computer. I tell him," OK, go tun on your computer."
"OK Daddy." He pushes the power button. It lights up and the computer starts to load.
Since that computer got loaded with two different operating systems it has a screen that comes up asking you which OS to use, and T knows when that comes up it is on the right one so he just hits the enter key.
"It's loading Daddy."
"OK T you are doing a great job being patient."
The computer loads and his desktop appears. He waits a little while, but is still 3 and patients is sometimes over rated. He finds the Internet explorer icon on the desk top for the Thomas website, and clicks it. Nothing happens.
"Daddy, it didn't work."
"Put the mouse pointer in the center of it, and click two times fast."
Click, click. IE opens up and there is Thomas's website. He starts navigating around the site and goes to videos. He is a little impatient when he clicks things, so occasionally this will lock it up, especially videos. "Daddy, it's not working again." I look over and see where the video screen is black and not loading.
"Press the f-5 key." He looks over the keyboard to where he knows that key is. I can see his finger hover over f-9 for a second, but then moves over to f-5 because he sees the 5. He pushes it and waits for it to load. Thomas comes up, his video comes up and it starts playing. He turns to me, and smiles at his success, then goes back to watching.
I think to myself that, first of all computers were not in homes when I was 3, but even when I had my first computer class in high school I don't think I was much more computer literate than he is. If you think about it, just knowing how to move the mouse around, he can drag and drop things, click on things, double click things, close windows and I am not sure but I think I saw him buy something on Ebay. But seriously, that's a lot to know about using a computer. Not to mention that f-5 key refreshes the page. He does that now without asking me if something gets stuck. I showed him once and he has it already. He uses the paint program to draw lines and shapes and then uses the paint brush tool and ink fill tools to color them. He used to ask for help, but now he does fairly well with very little assistance. At this pace I think next year I am going to take the computer apart and show him the internal side and tell him what all the components do. I think he could rebuild a computer soon.
I know, I am probably your typical parent who thinks every time his child does anything he is a genius. And he may very well be totally normal in all abilities. I wouldn't mind that at all. It just shows I am a proud dad who just sees the very best in his son. Either way, I am fairly certain that what I see is a kid who definitely shows signs of being a lot smarter than his dad was at every age. With that said, it would only make sense that I would want to be an over bearing dad and try to encourage him to reach his potential. So, I tell him quite frequently that I think he should be a doctor so he can help people. If you are smart, you should use that talent to help people the best way you can. For a while he would say he is going to be a doctor. Dad was happy. Then one day dad introduced T to the chickens on the farm we run. That was way cooler than being a doctor that gave him a shot in the leg and made him cry. Since then he has wanted to go down to the farm when I go and check on stuff. He loves looking at the feed bins and as he has seen me do before, tap on the sides to see if they are full or empty. Even though his reach allows him only to tap on the clear plastic part that you can already see if there is food in it or not. He taps, listens and determines if it sounded empty or full and reports it to me. "That one is full."
Now when I say,"You are going to be a doctor, right? So you can help people." He says, "No, I am going to be a chicken farmer." He puts on his baseball cap, like daddy wears to work, adjusts it, and smiles at me. I feel proud that he wants to be like me, and hopeful that someday he learns he can be better than me.
Smarter than Dad
It is quite a strange feeling when you realize that your child is going to be smarter than you. I am pretty sure that is the case with T. I was a very slow starter and don't think I gave learning a second thought until probably around the time I returned from the Gulf War. For some reason spending a few months facing your possible mortality changes the way you see the world. I am not positive, but I think I made the dean's list every quarter after I returned from the gulf, and before that time I think I spent a lot of time on the list for the pool table down at Kelly's Bar. So, there had to have been some change.
I just never thought of myself as smart. That was my brother. He is smart. He seemed to spend a few minutes studying and the rest partying, but managed to come out of college at the top of his class. It just didn't come that easy for me, so I just assumed I wasn't smart enough, so why really try? Anyway, turns out I did OK after I realized that I needed to try.
When I watch T now, I just see things happening in his head. He thinks things out. He learns like a sponge, and it just amazes me. For example, we got him a computer because he watched us using ours and was so interested in it we couldn't keep his hands off of it. So now he has his own. Remember he is three years old. Here is a short conversation that could happen any morning.
T says he wants to watch Thomas the Tank Engine on his computer. I tell him," OK, go tun on your computer."
"OK Daddy." He pushes the power button. It lights up and the computer starts to load.
Since that computer got loaded with two different operating systems it has a screen that comes up asking you which OS to use, and T knows when that comes up it is on the right one so he just hits the enter key.
"It's loading Daddy."
"OK T you are doing a great job being patient."
The computer loads and his desktop appears. He waits a little while, but is still 3 and patients is sometimes over rated. He finds the Internet explorer icon on the desk top for the Thomas website, and clicks it. Nothing happens.
"Daddy, it didn't work."
"Put the mouse pointer in the center of it, and click two times fast."
Click, click. IE opens up and there is Thomas's website. He starts navigating around the site and goes to videos. He is a little impatient when he clicks things, so occasionally this will lock it up, especially videos. "Daddy, it's not working again." I look over and see where the video screen is black and not loading.
"Press the f-5 key." He looks over the keyboard to where he knows that key is. I can see his finger hover over f-9 for a second, but then moves over to f-5 because he sees the 5. He pushes it and waits for it to load. Thomas comes up, his video comes up and it starts playing. He turns to me, and smiles at his success, then goes back to watching.
I think to myself that, first of all computers were not in homes when I was 3, but even when I had my first computer class in high school I don't think I was much more computer literate than he is. If you think about it, just knowing how to move the mouse around, he can drag and drop things, click on things, double click things, close windows and I am not sure but I think I saw him buy something on Ebay. But seriously, that's a lot to know about using a computer. Not to mention that f-5 key refreshes the page. He does that now without asking me if something gets stuck. I showed him once and he has it already. He uses the paint program to draw lines and shapes and then uses the paint brush tool and ink fill tools to color them. He used to ask for help, but now he does fairly well with very little assistance. At this pace I think next year I am going to take the computer apart and show him the internal side and tell him what all the components do. I think he could rebuild a computer soon.
I know, I am probably your typical parent who thinks every time his child does anything he is a genius. And he may very well be totally normal in all abilities. I wouldn't mind that at all. It just shows I am a proud dad who just sees the very best in his son. Either way, I am fairly certain that what I see is a kid who definitely shows signs of being a lot smarter than his dad was at every age. With that said, it would only make sense that I would want to be an over bearing dad and try to encourage him to reach his potential. So, I tell him quite frequently that I think he should be a doctor so he can help people. If you are smart, you should use that talent to help people the best way you can. For a while he would say he is going to be a doctor. Dad was happy. Then one day dad introduced T to the chickens on the farm we run. That was way cooler than being a doctor that gave him a shot in the leg and made him cry. Since then he has wanted to go down to the farm when I go and check on stuff. He loves looking at the feed bins and as he has seen me do before, tap on the sides to see if they are full or empty. Even though his reach allows him only to tap on the clear plastic part that you can already see if there is food in it or not. He taps, listens and determines if it sounded empty or full and reports it to me. "That one is full."
Now when I say,"You are going to be a doctor, right? So you can help people." He says, "No, I am going to be a chicken farmer." He puts on his baseball cap, like daddy wears to work, adjusts it, and smiles at me. I feel proud that he wants to be like me, and hopeful that someday he learns he can be better than me.
I just never thought of myself as smart. That was my brother. He is smart. He seemed to spend a few minutes studying and the rest partying, but managed to come out of college at the top of his class. It just didn't come that easy for me, so I just assumed I wasn't smart enough, so why really try? Anyway, turns out I did OK after I realized that I needed to try.
When I watch T now, I just see things happening in his head. He thinks things out. He learns like a sponge, and it just amazes me. For example, we got him a computer because he watched us using ours and was so interested in it we couldn't keep his hands off of it. So now he has his own. Remember he is three years old. Here is a short conversation that could happen any morning.
T says he wants to watch Thomas the Tank Engine on his computer. I tell him," OK, go tun on your computer."
"OK Daddy." He pushes the power button. It lights up and the computer starts to load.
Since that computer got loaded with two different operating systems it has a screen that comes up asking you which OS to use, and T knows when that comes up it is on the right one so he just hits the enter key.
"It's loading Daddy."
"OK T you are doing a great job being patient."
The computer loads and his desktop appears. He waits a little while, but is still 3 and patients is sometimes over rated. He finds the Internet explorer icon on the desk top for the Thomas website, and clicks it. Nothing happens.
"Daddy, it didn't work."
"Put the mouse pointer in the center of it, and click two times fast."
Click, click. IE opens up and there is Thomas's website. He starts navigating around the site and goes to videos. He is a little impatient when he clicks things, so occasionally this will lock it up, especially videos. "Daddy, it's not working again." I look over and see where the video screen is black and not loading.
"Press the f-5 key." He looks over the keyboard to where he knows that key is. I can see his finger hover over f-9 for a second, but then moves over to f-5 because he sees the 5. He pushes it and waits for it to load. Thomas comes up, his video comes up and it starts playing. He turns to me, and smiles at his success, then goes back to watching.
I think to myself that, first of all computers were not in homes when I was 3, but even when I had my first computer class in high school I don't think I was much more computer literate than he is. If you think about it, just knowing how to move the mouse around, he can drag and drop things, click on things, double click things, close windows and I am not sure but I think I saw him buy something on Ebay. But seriously, that's a lot to know about using a computer. Not to mention that f-5 key refreshes the page. He does that now without asking me if something gets stuck. I showed him once and he has it already. He uses the paint program to draw lines and shapes and then uses the paint brush tool and ink fill tools to color them. He used to ask for help, but now he does fairly well with very little assistance. At this pace I think next year I am going to take the computer apart and show him the internal side and tell him what all the components do. I think he could rebuild a computer soon.
I know, I am probably your typical parent who thinks every time his child does anything he is a genius. And he may very well be totally normal in all abilities. I wouldn't mind that at all. It just shows I am a proud dad who just sees the very best in his son. Either way, I am fairly certain that what I see is a kid who definitely shows signs of being a lot smarter than his dad was at every age. With that said, it would only make sense that I would want to be an over bearing dad and try to encourage him to reach his potential. So, I tell him quite frequently that I think he should be a doctor so he can help people. If you are smart, you should use that talent to help people the best way you can. For a while he would say he is going to be a doctor. Dad was happy. Then one day dad introduced T to the chickens on the farm we run. That was way cooler than being a doctor that gave him a shot in the leg and made him cry. Since then he has wanted to go down to the farm when I go and check on stuff. He loves looking at the feed bins and as he has seen me do before, tap on the sides to see if they are full or empty. Even though his reach allows him only to tap on the clear plastic part that you can already see if there is food in it or not. He taps, listens and determines if it sounded empty or full and reports it to me. "That one is full."
Now when I say,"You are going to be a doctor, right? So you can help people." He says, "No, I am going to be a chicken farmer." He puts on his baseball cap, like daddy wears to work, adjusts it, and smiles at me. I feel proud that he wants to be like me, and hopeful that someday he learns he can be better than me.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Double duty
Yesterday, out of necessity I decided it was best to keep T home from school. It was either that or send him to school (preschool) with my wife and try to pick him up from school while carrying the baby with me. For me, carrying the baby around and trying to time the pick up to some time when Q would be awake seemed too challenging. I thought keeping T at home would be easier. Some of these decisions should be better thought through I think.
Taking care of T is a lot of work. When it it is just Q and I for he day it is not too bad. She takes long naps of around three hours at a time, which leaves me time to get some things done. T on the other hand refuses to take naps. He also is a little needy and likes to have your attention quite frequently. That doesn't leave much time to do anything else.
The day did go well though. T was better behaved for the entire day than I could ever have imagined. I had some fears that it may be a nightmare taking care of the two, but it went so well. We played some games, put together a giant kids sized puzzle, and even danced. He found the alarm clock in our room, and played with it until music came out. Then he dragged me over and asked me to dance with him. Kids have so much energy. I tried to dance with him for a while, but it wore me out. So for a short time I sat on the couch and watched as he danced. That takes a lot less work.
Q did her best to keep her schedule. She ate, played with us for a while, as best as a three month old can, and then slept her full nap time. She was a dream. More impressive was that T helped me to keep Q company, watched her for me as I made lunch to make sue she was fine and didn't cry, and just generally acted very big brother like. I was very impressed. My little boy is growing up.
Taking care of T is a lot of work. When it it is just Q and I for he day it is not too bad. She takes long naps of around three hours at a time, which leaves me time to get some things done. T on the other hand refuses to take naps. He also is a little needy and likes to have your attention quite frequently. That doesn't leave much time to do anything else.
The day did go well though. T was better behaved for the entire day than I could ever have imagined. I had some fears that it may be a nightmare taking care of the two, but it went so well. We played some games, put together a giant kids sized puzzle, and even danced. He found the alarm clock in our room, and played with it until music came out. Then he dragged me over and asked me to dance with him. Kids have so much energy. I tried to dance with him for a while, but it wore me out. So for a short time I sat on the couch and watched as he danced. That takes a lot less work.
Q did her best to keep her schedule. She ate, played with us for a while, as best as a three month old can, and then slept her full nap time. She was a dream. More impressive was that T helped me to keep Q company, watched her for me as I made lunch to make sue she was fine and didn't cry, and just generally acted very big brother like. I was very impressed. My little boy is growing up.
Double duty
Yesterday, out of necessity I decided it was best to keep T home from school. It was either that or send him to school (preschool) with my wife and try to pick him up from school while carrying the baby with me. For me, carrying the baby around and trying to time the pick up to some time when Q would be awake seemed too challenging. I thought keeping T at home would be easier. Some of these decisions should be better thought through I think.
Taking care of T is a lot of work. When it it is just Q and I for he day it is not too bad. She takes long naps of around three hours at a time, which leaves me time to get some things done. T on the other hand refuses to take naps. He also is a little needy and likes to have your attention quite frequently. That doesn't leave much time to do anything else.
The day did go well though. T was better behaved for the entire day than I could ever have imagined. I had some fears that it may be a nightmare taking care of the two, but it went so well. We played some games, put together a giant kids sized puzzle, and even danced. He found the alarm clock in our room, and played with it until music came out. Then he dragged me over and asked me to dance with him. Kids have so much energy. I tried to dance with him for a while, but it wore me out. So for a short time I sat on the couch and watched as he danced. That takes a lot less work.
Q did her best to keep her schedule. She ate, played with us for a while, as best as a three month old can, and then slept her full nap time. She was a dream. More impressive was that T helped me to keep Q company, watched her for me as I made lunch to make sue she was fine and didn't cry, and just generally acted very big brother like. I was very impressed. My little boy is growing up.
Taking care of T is a lot of work. When it it is just Q and I for he day it is not too bad. She takes long naps of around three hours at a time, which leaves me time to get some things done. T on the other hand refuses to take naps. He also is a little needy and likes to have your attention quite frequently. That doesn't leave much time to do anything else.
The day did go well though. T was better behaved for the entire day than I could ever have imagined. I had some fears that it may be a nightmare taking care of the two, but it went so well. We played some games, put together a giant kids sized puzzle, and even danced. He found the alarm clock in our room, and played with it until music came out. Then he dragged me over and asked me to dance with him. Kids have so much energy. I tried to dance with him for a while, but it wore me out. So for a short time I sat on the couch and watched as he danced. That takes a lot less work.
Q did her best to keep her schedule. She ate, played with us for a while, as best as a three month old can, and then slept her full nap time. She was a dream. More impressive was that T helped me to keep Q company, watched her for me as I made lunch to make sue she was fine and didn't cry, and just generally acted very big brother like. I was very impressed. My little boy is growing up.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
The Flying Pee
I know it is an odd title, but it fits. You see, T gets grumpy when he is tired. Since he decided on his own at some point that he was finished with naps he gets grumpy most evenings before bed time. It is hard to time bed time around this issue. If you put him to bed too early, he will work himself up while in bed and just start playing in bed and has no problem staying awake until 9 O'clock. He goes to bed at around seven. So, if we try to wait a little longer until he looks tired, then you risk he will hit the very grumpy stage and the rest is a battle of wills until he is in bed. Getting a kid to brush his teeth and take a bath when he doesn't want to participate can surely take an extraordinary effort by the parent.
Well last night I went too long. He started to look sleepy and I thought it was the right time to go, but he had just started playing a game on his computer. That was a bad sign. I tried to lure him away peacefully, but things escalated quickly and it ended up with me carrying him to the bathroom. Screaming, kicking, crying, the whole works. So in the bathroom we needed to get back to calm. He was sitting on the floor refusing to participate in going to the bathroom so we could get into the tub. So I tried talking him down a little. We talked a little until he was a bit calmer, and then I asked if he wanted to go pee pee sitting down or standing up. He just got the hang of standing up to go about a month ago, so its still a little fun. But his answer was,"I don't want to pee sitting, and I don't want to go pee standing either."
"Hmmm", I said. "Well, if you don't want to go sitting, and you don't want to go standing, then I guess the only way left is to go laying down." He looked at me all confused. We got his clothes off because he was curious about this lying down method. I then picked him up, face down, and held him hovering flat across my arms with his pee pee just over the toilet bowl. I was actually kind of kidding around thinking he would say,"No" and I would put him down to try going standing up. But instead, I noticed that he got quiet, and his body tightened up a little, and he went pee while floating above the toilet like Superman. When he was done, I put him down and we both started laughing pretty hard. The rest of the process then went very easily as every time I could see he was thinking about something, I just started laughing and said,"You went pee pee laying down. No one goes pee pee laying down." We would both start laughing again and he would keep on task getting ready for bed. He got to bed, and we read his bed time story. He was out a few minutes later. A success, and all because of the magnificent flying pee.
OK now I hear people saying, as did my wife, "what are we going to do tomorrow when he won't pee normally and demands to be held like superman over the toilet. Yes, that was a risk, and no, I of course had not thought it through when I did it. I'm more of a act on the moment person which I know is sometimes bad. Today, I took him to the bathroom in the morning, and it did come up. He asked me to hold him over the toilet again. I just said, "You are a big boy, and my back hurts a little from holding you like that, so we should just go normally from now on." Luckily that was all it took, and he had not asked for the rest of the day. It may not be over, but I choose to believe it is all good.
Well last night I went too long. He started to look sleepy and I thought it was the right time to go, but he had just started playing a game on his computer. That was a bad sign. I tried to lure him away peacefully, but things escalated quickly and it ended up with me carrying him to the bathroom. Screaming, kicking, crying, the whole works. So in the bathroom we needed to get back to calm. He was sitting on the floor refusing to participate in going to the bathroom so we could get into the tub. So I tried talking him down a little. We talked a little until he was a bit calmer, and then I asked if he wanted to go pee pee sitting down or standing up. He just got the hang of standing up to go about a month ago, so its still a little fun. But his answer was,"I don't want to pee sitting, and I don't want to go pee standing either."
"Hmmm", I said. "Well, if you don't want to go sitting, and you don't want to go standing, then I guess the only way left is to go laying down." He looked at me all confused. We got his clothes off because he was curious about this lying down method. I then picked him up, face down, and held him hovering flat across my arms with his pee pee just over the toilet bowl. I was actually kind of kidding around thinking he would say,"No" and I would put him down to try going standing up. But instead, I noticed that he got quiet, and his body tightened up a little, and he went pee while floating above the toilet like Superman. When he was done, I put him down and we both started laughing pretty hard. The rest of the process then went very easily as every time I could see he was thinking about something, I just started laughing and said,"You went pee pee laying down. No one goes pee pee laying down." We would both start laughing again and he would keep on task getting ready for bed. He got to bed, and we read his bed time story. He was out a few minutes later. A success, and all because of the magnificent flying pee.
OK now I hear people saying, as did my wife, "what are we going to do tomorrow when he won't pee normally and demands to be held like superman over the toilet. Yes, that was a risk, and no, I of course had not thought it through when I did it. I'm more of a act on the moment person which I know is sometimes bad. Today, I took him to the bathroom in the morning, and it did come up. He asked me to hold him over the toilet again. I just said, "You are a big boy, and my back hurts a little from holding you like that, so we should just go normally from now on." Luckily that was all it took, and he had not asked for the rest of the day. It may not be over, but I choose to believe it is all good.
The Flying Pee
I know it is an odd title, but it fits. You see, T gets grumpy when he is tired. Since he decided on his own at some point that he was finished with naps he gets grumpy most evenings before bed time. It is hard to time bed time around this issue. If you put him to bed too early, he will work himself up while in bed and just start playing in bed and has no problem staying awake until 9 O'clock. He goes to bed at around seven. So, if we try to wait a little longer until he looks tired, then you risk he will hit the very grumpy stage and the rest is a battle of wills until he is in bed. Getting a kid to brush his teeth and take a bath when he doesn't want to participate can surely take an extraordinary effort by the parent.
Well last night I went too long. He started to look sleepy and I thought it was the right time to go, but he had just started playing a game on his computer. That was a bad sign. I tried to lure him away peacefully, but things escalated quickly and it ended up with me carrying him to the bathroom. Screaming, kicking, crying, the whole works. So in the bathroom we needed to get back to calm. He was sitting on the floor refusing to participate in going to the bathroom so we could get into the tub. So I tried talking him down a little. We talked a little until he was a bit calmer, and then I asked if he wanted to go pee pee sitting down or standing up. He just got the hang of standing up to go about a month ago, so its still a little fun. But his answer was,"I don't want to pee sitting, and I don't want to go pee standing either."
"Hmmm", I said. "Well, if you don't want to go sitting, and you don't want to go standing, then I guess the only way left is to go laying down." He looked at me all confused. We got his clothes off because he was curious about this lying down method. I then picked him up, face down, and held him hovering flat across my arms with his pee pee just over the toilet bowl. I was actually kind of kidding around thinking he would say,"No" and I would put him down to try going standing up. But instead, I noticed that he got quiet, and his body tightened up a little, and he went pee while floating above the toilet like Superman. When he was done, I put him down and we both started laughing pretty hard. The rest of the process then went very easily as every time I could see he was thinking about something, I just started laughing and said,"You went pee pee laying down. No one goes pee pee laying down." We would both start laughing again and he would keep on task getting ready for bed. He got to bed, and we read his bed time story. He was out a few minutes later. A success, and all because of the magnificent flying pee.
OK now I hear people saying, as did my wife, "what are we going to do tomorrow when he won't pee normally and demands to be held like superman over the toilet. Yes, that was a risk, and no, I of course had not thought it through when I did it. I'm more of a act on the moment person which I know is sometimes bad. Today, I took him to the bathroom in the morning, and it did come up. He asked me to hold him over the toilet again. I just said, "You are a big boy, and my back hurts a little from holding you like that, so we should just go normally from now on." Luckily that was all it took, and he had not asked for the rest of the day. It may not be over, but I choose to believe it is all good.
Well last night I went too long. He started to look sleepy and I thought it was the right time to go, but he had just started playing a game on his computer. That was a bad sign. I tried to lure him away peacefully, but things escalated quickly and it ended up with me carrying him to the bathroom. Screaming, kicking, crying, the whole works. So in the bathroom we needed to get back to calm. He was sitting on the floor refusing to participate in going to the bathroom so we could get into the tub. So I tried talking him down a little. We talked a little until he was a bit calmer, and then I asked if he wanted to go pee pee sitting down or standing up. He just got the hang of standing up to go about a month ago, so its still a little fun. But his answer was,"I don't want to pee sitting, and I don't want to go pee standing either."
"Hmmm", I said. "Well, if you don't want to go sitting, and you don't want to go standing, then I guess the only way left is to go laying down." He looked at me all confused. We got his clothes off because he was curious about this lying down method. I then picked him up, face down, and held him hovering flat across my arms with his pee pee just over the toilet bowl. I was actually kind of kidding around thinking he would say,"No" and I would put him down to try going standing up. But instead, I noticed that he got quiet, and his body tightened up a little, and he went pee while floating above the toilet like Superman. When he was done, I put him down and we both started laughing pretty hard. The rest of the process then went very easily as every time I could see he was thinking about something, I just started laughing and said,"You went pee pee laying down. No one goes pee pee laying down." We would both start laughing again and he would keep on task getting ready for bed. He got to bed, and we read his bed time story. He was out a few minutes later. A success, and all because of the magnificent flying pee.
OK now I hear people saying, as did my wife, "what are we going to do tomorrow when he won't pee normally and demands to be held like superman over the toilet. Yes, that was a risk, and no, I of course had not thought it through when I did it. I'm more of a act on the moment person which I know is sometimes bad. Today, I took him to the bathroom in the morning, and it did come up. He asked me to hold him over the toilet again. I just said, "You are a big boy, and my back hurts a little from holding you like that, so we should just go normally from now on." Luckily that was all it took, and he had not asked for the rest of the day. It may not be over, but I choose to believe it is all good.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
First Post!
Well, here I am making a web footprint. I am a man on a mission and I figure I may as well share the journey with any other interested people who may share a common interest in being a dad. I am sure there are a few out there. Well, I am hoping there are a lot out there. That way we could all group together and share our moments of enlightenment with each other and hopefully end up with some kids who turn into well educated, intelligent, caring, responsible adults.
As for me, I am a happily married man who lives on a farm and is trying to raise two children. I have a boy (T) who is three, and a girl (Q) who is three months. All I know is that I have sooo much respect for single parents, because I could never do it. Even with my wife and I both doing everything we can and tag teaming the work we still feel that we are not getting it all done and in someway probably scarring our children psychologically for ever. Parenting is difficult. Parenting is frightening. Parenting is incredible. I hope to use this site to explore all of those things by just jotting down things that happen each day, problems we run into, and solutions we come up with for them.
As for me, I am a happily married man who lives on a farm and is trying to raise two children. I have a boy (T) who is three, and a girl (Q) who is three months. All I know is that I have sooo much respect for single parents, because I could never do it. Even with my wife and I both doing everything we can and tag teaming the work we still feel that we are not getting it all done and in someway probably scarring our children psychologically for ever. Parenting is difficult. Parenting is frightening. Parenting is incredible. I hope to use this site to explore all of those things by just jotting down things that happen each day, problems we run into, and solutions we come up with for them.
First Post!
Well, here I am making a web footprint. I am a man on a mission and I figure I may as well share the journey with any other interested people who may share a common interest in being a dad. I am sure there are a few out there. Well, I am hoping there are a lot out there. That way we could all group together and share our moments of enlightenment with each other and hopefully end up with some kids who turn into well educated, intelligent, caring, responsible adults.
As for me, I am a happily married man who lives on a farm and is trying to raise two children. I have a boy (T) who is three, and a girl (Q) who is three months. All I know is that I have sooo much respect for single parents, because I could never do it. Even with my wife and I both doing everything we can and tag teaming the work we still feel that we are not getting it all done and in someway probably scarring our children psychologically for ever. Parenting is difficult. Parenting is frightening. Parenting is incredible. I hope to use this site to explore all of those things by just jotting down things that happen each day, problems we run into, and solutions we come up with for them.
As for me, I am a happily married man who lives on a farm and is trying to raise two children. I have a boy (T) who is three, and a girl (Q) who is three months. All I know is that I have sooo much respect for single parents, because I could never do it. Even with my wife and I both doing everything we can and tag teaming the work we still feel that we are not getting it all done and in someway probably scarring our children psychologically for ever. Parenting is difficult. Parenting is frightening. Parenting is incredible. I hope to use this site to explore all of those things by just jotting down things that happen each day, problems we run into, and solutions we come up with for them.
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