Which Rules to Obey?

I watched a Dad and several youngsters hop into the hot-tub at our gym recently. They dropped their towels right by the sign that reads "No children 12 and under allowed in the hot tub!" Both kids looked to be five or six years old. Being a parent can feel like being under a 24/7 microscope sometimes, and this situation made me think about what we teach our children about rules and the truth.

Telling a "white lie" is accepted as part of navigating society. We cut corners a bit here and there to ease potential rough spots in relationships. What was the father in the hot-tub teaching his kids about rules? Are some "made to be broken" like athletic records? I can't imagine telling my children to obey traffic signals and speed limit signs, while I keep one eye on the road and the other on a radar detector. I can't imagine letting my kids into the hot-tub before they're twelve years old. If they see me flaunt one rule, that will confuse them about which rules can be bent or broken.

That said, I hope that sixty years ago I would have insisted that my boys give up their "front of the bus" seats to an African-American woman, regardless of where on the bus that woman was "supposed" to sit. Some rules were made to be broken I guess. How do you explain to your children when a rule doesn't make sense? Or when a rule, like the hot-tubs at my club, makes sense for some people but not for others?

Mom's Day

I'll admit it, sometimes I take for granted all that my wife puts up with from three boys. The uneven hairlines, the temper tantrums and the dirty clothes left to molder on the bedroom floor. And then she has to put with our two sons as well. Mothers deserve more than a "day" in my opinion, and I'm not sure a month or season or entire year is enough to salute all they do for us.

Here are a few of the roles I salute mothers (including my own) for fulfilling, above and beyond the call of duty.

Traffic Cop: Policing disputes about baseball cap ownership and whose turn it is to go first.

Cabbie: Ferrying kids to and from baseball, swim lessons, soccer games, guitar/cello/drum/bass/recorder/digeridoo lessons and more.

Doctor: Patching wounded knees and feelings, always knowing when a neck rub and a kiss is needed most.

Mom: The most underappreciated and underpaid job in the world. Although those with experience in this area tell me that the fringe benefits beat any paycheck, any day.

Happy Mother's Day to all, including my favorite Mom, Joan. Remember, only 42 shopping days left until Father's Day!

Aloha Spirit Means Heart-ful Fathering

Our planned 6-day family vacation in paradise turned into a week and a half of emergency room visits and hospital stays. Hawaii never looked so lovely I'm sure, I just wish we'd seen more of it through a windshield and less of it from room 410 of the North Hawaii Community Hospital http://www.northhawaiicommunityhospital.org/

As I watched the nurses and doctors, the paramedics and even the staff of our hotel react to our health issues, I was struck by how much sincere caring everyone displayed. Both of our sons were sick with salmonella, and two stressed-out parents are not the easiest people in the world to deal with. The health professionals always had a smile, timely information and words of assurance when we needed them. Our hotel staff (the Hilton at Waikoloa) extended our room indefintly and slashed the room rate to one-third of what we'd booked at. Friends from United Airlines were proactive in re-booking our flights several times, and made sure we were seated right next to the lavatories (critical!) on the seven-hour trip home.

All this has me thinking about what I would refer to as "Aloha Fatherhood". As parents, we can choose to lead with our brain or our heart. If I had to choose between the two, I'd hope that my heart would provide the guidance and wisdom necessary to bring up children with good brains.

Kids and Ethics

Each day's headlines bring news of leaders in the church, community and business who have made moral missteps. I do believe that all of us can trip into the ethical abyss from time to time. It's what you do once you're there, and how you recover, that is the measure of the man and father.

A football player from Cleveland was recently arrested at an airport security gate. Shaun Rogers was trying to bring a carry-on bag with a loaded and cocked gun, into a secure area and onto a plane. He says now that he didn't know the gun was in his possession. Sorry, this falls into categories of both supreme stupidity and casual arrogance.

http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=5058703&campaign=rss&source=ESPNHeadlines

Professional athletes may not be role models, as basketball player Charles Barkley once said, but they are public figures. When an athlete complains about the scrutiny they're under, I wish they'd remember that they could have easily been police officers, accountants or Subway sandwich shop managers. Athletes choose their line of work, as do we all. Some in the media point out with a bit of validity that the "regular" people like us aren't hauled before kleig lights and cameras every time we commit an offense. I can't help think that us "regular" people also can't afford high priced attorneys, nor can we schedule our jail time around spring training or the NFL season.

I wish just once (Tiger, Shaun, Alex, Roger, anyone?) someone in the spotlight would 'fess up to their misdeeds before they're caught. Now that would be news!

Logic Wins Out Over Rules

Like the Allies and German forces, huddled in trenches awaiting the whistle to go "up and over" for some penultimate WWI battle, the boys and I used to gird for the nightly trauma over baths, pj's and bedtime. When they were 4 or 5 years old, this ritual became a power struggle of epic proportions. As the boys have gotten older and I have matured, the scene plays out with far less intensity. We're all thankful for that.

My wife Terry used to counsel me "pick your battles" when I'd come downstairs from the boys' bedroom after those fights. My face would be red, jaw clenched and the last thing I could think about was a relaxing night's sleep for myself. When I was a kid, bed-time was clearly defined, "lights out" meant exactly that, and very few breaches of protocol were allowed! I thought that was how it had to be.

What I've been reminded of recently is that all us parents are imperfect, and we're all free to set our own rules. My folks learned from their folks, who learned from their folks, and so on back to the Shtetl and ghetto of Eastern Europe. That doesn't mean I have to be a carbon copy of my father. He certainly wasn't a carbon copy of his Dad.*

As I let go of my kids and encourage them to be independent and seek their own way in life, I realize that I can't control them, only influence them. So Nick wears a t-shirt to bed. So Chris stays up late reading. We all get a good night's sleep in the end.

*For the uninitiated, "Carbon Copy" refers to the carbon paper you used to slip between sheets in a typewriter. This is how we made copies in the mid-20th Century. If you have to ask what a typewriter was...I can't help you.

Leprechauns

Whoops. My wife is out of town and she usually facilitates the arrival of leprechauns at our house for St. Patty's Day. This time, the imps were not only late, but failed to measure up to our sons' expectations. They left green sparkly liquid in both the bathroom sink and toilet. No Lucky Charms cereal, no green milk, cupcakes or cookies.

When 8 year-old Christopher came down the stairs this morning, he plaintively wailed that this was absolutely "The Worst Saint Patricks Day Ever!" I came "this close" to revealing the leprechaun's true identity, but I held my tongue. In that split second, I realized that his ability to still believe in Santa, Leprechauns and the Easter Bunny is a character strength I truly admire.

What do you believe in that you can't prove?

Safety and Change; Teach Your Children Well

There was a "lock down" drill at my 4th grade son's school today. I hate that our kids are growing up in a climate of fear, where dis-trust comes before trust. Life seemed simpler and less dangerous two generations ago when I was growing up, and yet when I reflect a bit deeper, it seems that times haven't changed as much as many of us think they have.

The late 60's and early 70's were times of dramatic social challenges. I can recall "duck and cover" drills at my elementary school. I didn't realize that these were to protect (as much protection as a school hallway can provide) us from Russian nuclear devices. I was convinced that the North Vietnamese would be invading Penfield, New York any day.

How do you create a safe environment for your children? How do you ensure that they feel free to experiment and test their limits, without pushing beyond the edge into reckless behavior?