Just Joking Around

We hosted one of Chris' friends for a sleep-over recently. One of the beauties (and curses) of winter break is that every day becomes a Saturday night. "John" arrived at about 6:30pm, with pizza and cherry pie fueling the pre-Tween festivities. Without my darling wife Terry here (off on a trip to her folks' in New Mexico) I was left to fend for myself. So I did what any well-adjusted parent would do. I locked myself in the bedroom and watched a Humphrey Bogart movie.

My take on sleep-overs is that unless there is blood seeping under a door, or screams in the middle of the night, the kids can take care of themselves. After a peaceful night, I fixed chocolate chip pancakes for the boys and John's dad arrived (on a white stallion if I'm not mistaken) around 10:30am and we sent them on their way.

What I've realized lately is that as complex as toys and video games can be, my sons can be amused and enthralled by the simplest things. A conversation about bodily functions can lead to non-stop giggles for an hour. A game of "Go Fish" makes us all giddy. Knock-knock jokes with non-sensical punch lines reach from the early morning into the night.

One difference between the current generation of parents and parents of the past, is that today we seem to want to plan every excursion, or fill every minutes of our kids' time with swim and guitar lessons. Scheduling in un-structured time to enjoy each other's company might help our children understand that the simplest pleasures lead to the most lasting rewards.

Dad Temper Tantrums

I lost it with the boys on Saturday evening. Ever been there? I can't even recall what set me off, perhaps Chris whining about what was prepared for dinner, or Nick needling Chris about a shared baseball cap. Either way, I lost my cool and shouted at them. I know that what sets me off most times is that the plan in my head (which I neglect to share with anyone else) is not what unfolds in real life.

My boys act up and "push my buttons" when they're (a) tired, (b) frustrated or (c) hungry. Most of the time it's a combination of things. What I fail to remember in those moments of anger on my part is that the same things drive me past the point of self-control. I recover pretty well, and hurt feelings seem to be mended in minutes. What I can't gauge right now is the impact of my actions on how they'll function in similar situations as adults.

As fathers we pass along many memories and legacies. It's not just how to throw a curve ball or how to shave. We also pass down the lessons of our most human moments. What I've tried to teach from the times when I'm not at my best, is that it's okay not to be perfect. I can see my sons' frustration when the Lego pieces don't fit perfectly, or when they forget a multiplication answer. I hope that my legacy includes an ability to be gentle with themselves when they fail, humble when they succeed, and the good sense to go with the flow when their plans don't work out exactly as they'd wished.