"Wherever You Are, Be There"

Don't Call Me and Tell Me You're Going to be there in 5 Minutes. 

This time of year four years ago I was about to start a 16 week marathon training program for the 2012 Twin Cities Marathon.  It would be my second foray into such idiocy after barely finishing one back in 2005 and promptly swearing I would never again attempt one.  The urge to give it another go came after watching one of my good buddies complete the course in 2011.  There were also a few notable milestones at play, as we were expecting our second child at the end of 2012, and 2013 would be bringing a noteworthy birthday my way.  I figured if I ever wanted to try and redeem my admittedly lackluster performance from seven years previous, this was going to be my last viable chance.  Given these circumstances I was also successfully able to goad a small cadre of my closest compatriots into attempting it with me - including a few who would probably not classify themselves as "runners" - then or now.

In effort to avoid a repeat of the dramatics from my inaugural marathon^, I made a concerted effort to train with considerably more dedication this time around.  If you've ever done something so stupid as train for and run a marathon, you're likely aware that the necessary prep work can be time-consuming.  While I had zero chance of winning, or probably even finishing in the top half of the 10,000 runner pack, I still found myself getting up at 5am on weekday mornings to get runs in before work.  My weekends were relinquished to a multiple hour long run and all subsequent recovery that followed.  Training basically became a part-time job that didn't pay and made you spend more on groceries because you were perpetually "rungry".

Toward the end of the training, likely on one of those long runs that provide an excessive amount of "thinking time", I remember telling myself that after this marathon nonsense was over, I was really going to focus on being a dad.  Put the selfish stupid ideas, like running marathons, playing in rock and roll bands, and attempting to climb the career ladder, on hold and focus the little people in my life that depended on me, or mostly their mother, and occasionally me.  I remember how absurd this notion seemed to me at the time, and how I still find it challenging to grasp now.  But I get the feeling it's not an uncommon one for a lot of parents trying to balance multiple responsibilities - work, family, bar league softball, etc.

One of my former bosses (she was actually the boss of the boss of my boss's boss*) once told me that finding balance can really be a misnomer, especially when it comes to trying to balance work and family life.  She commented that at times your work may be more consuming and leave you feeling as though you are neglecting your family, or the other parts of your life that aren't your work.  But the opposite is also true, that at times your family will demand or deserve more of your time, and your work might take the appropriate backseat.  The key, she advised, is recognizing that this is (hopefully) temporary, and the better we are at recognizing when those situations arise, the better we can manage the relationship between those aspects of our life.  It was a refreshing and realistic piece of advice, given how often we have the unrealistic expectation that we can balance everything in our life.

A few weeks ago, we had the privilege of attending my sister-in-law's college graduation from South Dakota State University.  The title of this post was actually a line I lifted from the student speaker's address to the graduating class.  "Wherever you are, be there."  It was a simple, but powerful suggestion, that in our frenetic, hyper-connected world, where technology can more or less put us anywhere we want to be at any given time, we often overlook.  Whether you are a working-parent or a stay-at-home parent, or not even a parent at all.  When we try to be multiple places at once, or do multiple things at once, we never tend to either of them very well - like texting and driving for example.  I've commented before that being a stay-at-home parent of multiple kids becomes more or less a gigantic multi-task in attempt to survive (see earlier post).

When I was working I often felt a necessity (typically falsely perceived) that I needed to answer emails or take work calls if they came in after hours.  Even since my retirement, and my comittments to things outside of parenting have drastically decreased, I still need the daily reminder to "be there".  I've done my fair share of trolling social media while also "supervising" bathtime and justifying a "need" to rock Gus to sleep as an excuse to check the most recent news headlines on my smartphone`.  Beyond our all-consuming technology, I've plowed through countless kids books without recalling a single word I've just read because my mind was preoccupied on what I was going to make for dinner that night or how I was going to persuasively convince my wife that I should be allowed to go out drinking with the guys that coming weekend.  Fortunately I do get called out from time to time, like just the other day when, after checking the afternoon forecast on my phone before mindlessly flipping to my Facebook feed, I put my phone down after realizing I had wasted the last 5 minutes (likely more) of my life.  At that point, Havi, our three year-old, looked at me and said (verbatim), "It's so good to have you back, Dad."

Considering that being a stay-at-home parent doesn't typically require an excessive amount of high-level critical thinking (until it instantaneously does of course) and given the propensity of my mind wander to somewhat bizarre places, it can be easy for me to go through the motions.  As Isla, our oldest, has finished up her last year of preschool today, the idea of being wherever you are has been particularly poignant to me these last few months.  This fall, she'll start kindergarten and Havi will start a few days a week of preschool, which will have a noticeable impact on the daily level of craziness in our house.  As nice as this will be, especially after the chaos of summer that will surely ensue with all of three being home all of the time, it has helped me to be mindful of not wishing that time away, no matter how frustrating it can become.  It has allowed me to better embrace those moments when I am at wits end, a fraction of a second from throwing large objects across the house, when all three are simultaneously acting like, to borrow a term from Karen Alpert, "little a-holes".

Before Gus came along, and I was home with just the girls for a few months, there were a few rare occasions when I was able to get both Isla and Havi to take an afternoon  nap, typically after reading a good 25+ books.  When this happened, it was my golden opportunity to either try to get the things I thought I needed to get done around the house in relative peace and with much more efficiency, or just have a little "Jon time" - blogging, watching 90s music videos, reading the comments sections of online newspapers.  Every once in a while though I would just lay with the girls.  While this wasn't probably the most effective use of my time, I knew that those moments wouldn't always be present, and sometimes it's just nice to try and hold on to them before they pass.  And before attempting to nap with your kids becomes just plain creepy.  These were also likely the times when I was just really tired and needed a nap too.

About a year ago, I had a chance to chat with a parent of one of my former student employees.  In discussing my experiences so far as a stay-at-home dad, he made a comment that I don't think sums up parenting much better, whether you stay at home or not.  "The days can get long, but the years will go by fast."  As much as we try, we can't always be "on" as parents.  We need the other aspects of our lives; our relationships with our spouses and friends, our interests and hobbies, our work or vocation, to help make us who we are as individuals.  At times we may have to focus on one area more than another, and we may feel guilty for shortchanging those other parts or people.  But that is life, making a series of trade-offs that help us keep things in perspective.  If we're attentive to those moments and fully take them in, we'll feel them long after they are through.        
             

Thanks to these guys, I was at least able to stand up
following my second marathon attempt.

^Which included throwing up on the grounds of a church just as the 11am service was letting out, and getting the maximum use out of my registration fee by visiting the med tent for an IV and wheelchair transport post race.

*This means she was either a really big deal, or I was really not a big deal - I think both are equally true.

`I've always found the term "smartphone" a little ironic, considering a vast majority of what we do on them - watch cat videos, determine our Elf name, play Candy Crush, etc. are likely diminishing our intellectual capacity.

Subtitle of this post is a paraphrase of  David Fricke from the Sam Jones' Wilco documentary "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart".

I Have a Problem

My Name is Jon, and I’m an Aldiholic

I should disclose that I have not been compensated by Aldi in any manner for this post.  Should they find it in their interest to do so, I would gladly accept – preferably in the form of an Aldi gift card.  Just sayin’.

I get really excited for Sundays.  Not because I am a devout person; religious or football (more to come on those topics later).  I get excited for Sundays because that is when the new weekly ads for the grocery stores come out^.  Since my “retirement” I’ve begun to do most of the cooking in our house, which means I also do most of the grocery shopping.  I've actually done a majority of the grocery shopping for some time now because my wife somewhat despises the activity.  I don’t mind it, and have come to enjoy it as an adventurous outing.  It can even by therapeutic if I can go with out kids - which only happens after 8pm on Fridays and Saturdays.

As you may have learned from previous posts, I tend to skew a little to the frugal side (i.e. cheap).  I’m also a huge sucker for a good deal (or what I, often incorrectly, perceive to be a good deal).  If things that we consume with some frequency go on sale, and like mega-sale, I can get a little too excited.  These days, finding a good deal has become even more important because feeding a family of five, four of whom spend a vast amount of time in our own kitchen, is not an inexpensive endeavor.  Especially if you attempt to feed your kids something halfway healthy, or at least “healthy-sounding”.  You may recall that the top thing on my SAHDChristmas List a few years ago was food, and lots of it.

So enter in Aldi, a global discount supermarket chain that some have called the best in the world.  My first experience with Aldi wasn’t the most pleasant.  It occurred at a time when Aldi didn’t take credit or debit cards (“straight cash homey”), reusable shopping bags weren’t cool, and Aldi stores predominantly existed in lower income neighborhoods of larger cities and sported a heavy armed security presence.  I came back around to Aldi, which I’ve likened to finding grocery store religion, after I started staying home with the kids, and realized our skyrocketing grocery bills may require us to take out a second mortgage on our house.  I’ve contemplated reverting to the practice of my college days, donating plasma to cover the cost of groceries – typically frozen pizza and cheap beer at the time.

Like Ben Bailey (Mr. Cash Cab), I love Aldi for a number of reasons, but the biggest is obviously the low prices.   They do this in a number of ways, but the overall concept is to deliver high quality products with a relatively low-frills shopping experience.  They do this by keeping their inventory low, efficiently running their stores with minimal employees, requiring a deposit for your cart (something the company estimates saves them millions each year), and encouraging you to bring your own shopping bags by not providing plastic or paper bags (except for sale) at the check-out.  Unless I find something on sale, happen to have both a store and manufacturer coupons, and am shopping on double-coupon day, I seldom see prices cheaper than Aldi at any of the other local grocery retailers.*

Some of these cost cutting measures Aldi puts in place can definitely put people off, but I see it as a genius way to help consumers save money, time and sanity.  Take the limited inventory.  While most grocery stores offer around 40,000 items, Aldi offers around 1,500, and their stores (and subsequent storage space) are a fraction of the size of other grocery chains.  While this may limit a shoppers choices, as Barry Schwartz has pointed out in The Paradox of Choice (and I’ve referenced before), too much choice can lead to “analysis paralysis” and we end up not making a choice at all or default to the choices we’ve always made.  With limited selection, I spend less time mulling over what brand of cheddar cheese to get, hastily trying to calculate price per ounce in my head while pretending to be conscious of the nutrition label, and just grab the Friendly Farms in the cooler and go about my merry way.  This helps immensely when you have two kids engaged in an active fist-fight while riding in the grocery cart.  Of course the limited inventory means I can’t always find everything that I need, but can typically locate a suitable alternative – like the time I had to use lemon juice instead of lime juice for my Silus Salsa.  Katie, I promise it does not compromise the integrity of the dish.

Along with the low inventory keeping prices low and the lack of needing to hang on to easily misplaced coupons to receive those low prices, I've found that Aldi is quick to discount their already low prices on items that are getting close to their "use by" date (something that doesn't necessarily have any bearing on whether the product is still good) or may not be as cosmetically appealing (a tactic starting to take hold elsewhere).  I've happened upon this phenomenon at other grocery stores before, like the time I scored 15lbs of ground turkey for $15 from the "reduced meat bin".  But while it seems like other stores are hesitant to set a precedent of selling off the goods they will likely ultimately toss at a deep discount, Aldi lets the consumer decide if they think its a good deal.  Last summer our local Aldi had to close for a few weeks for some much needed store remodeling, and in effort to deplete their inventory of perishables, they were practically giving away fresh produce; charging $.25 for a pound of strawberries.  

You may think a no-frills shopping experience with children in tow would be appetite for destruction, and at first it certainly was.  Until our local Aldi expanded its store last summer to about double the size, the place was tiny.  Every time I went there with an entourage, I swore I'd only return on solo missions - a promise I was never able to keep because the prices are so irresistible.  But I quickly learned how the removal of some of the grocery store "amenities" catered toward families with young children has actually made my grocery shopping experience with my kids easier.  With no shopping carts with race-cars attached to the front, we have no arguments about who gets to sit in what particular seat.  With no on-site bakery, I don't get constantly pestered by the kids demanding a free cookie; a gracious but unnecessary (and somewhat unhealthy) gesture by some of the other local grocery stores.  No suckers or stickers at the check-out prevents the inevitable meltdown if one of the kids does not get his/her favorite color of the moment.  I have sensed that the older two have started to pick up on the lack of these "kid amenities" as they will often let out an audible grumble when I tell them we're headed to Aldi.

Beyond the low prices and the decreased chance of my kids getting a mouthful of cavities from all of the bakery cookies and Dum-Dums, there are a few other nuanced reasons I've come to enjoy shopping at Aldi, and developed a respect for the company in general.  One is the hours, as Aldi is only open from 9am-8pm each day.  While this isn't always convenient, I have often thought it a little excessive for stores to be open around the clock, like our other large local grocery store chain is.  Aldi is also closed most holidays.  This tells me that the company values its employees and believes that they should be celebrating those holidays with their families or just enjoying a day off and not working (and subsequently being paid holiday pay I presume).  Sure this forces me, and other Aldiholics, to be more diligent in our planning for our culinary needs, but it's the price you pay - or actually don't pay, because you're saving so much money.

There is also a recognizable Aldi culture with customers who shop there.  This manifests itself in the numerous times I have been given a cart by a finished shopper, only to have my attempts at giving them the quarter I planned to use for a cart repeatedly refused.  Or the time when a woman stopped me in the store and gave me a $10 off coupon for purchases totaling more than $50 because she noticed I had small kids (and a cart overflowing with groceries) and "claimed" she wouldn't spend $50 on groceries for just her and her husband.  I had already made quick work of the same coupon we got in the mail earlier that week.  Of course there are also those extreme Aldiholics who don't have much time for meandering families of four, or anyone for that matter, getting in their way when they are trying to get their "savings on".  Stay out of their way and you should be in good shape.

The main reason I consider myself an "Aldiholic" is because I feel as though I can try to feed our family relatively healthy and tasty meals without completely blowing our grocery budget. I can purchase fresh produce for the kids without gasping in astonishment when they weigh the bag of grapes at the checkout'.  A plus because they will consume fresh fruit & veggies until their fecal matter is various shades of the rainbow (Too much?  Probably.)  They've also developed somewhat expensive food preferences - salmon, shrimp, T-Bone steak, not Kraft singles, etc., and their quantities of consumption probably won't be decreasing anytime in the near future.  Currently our 15 month old seems to eat like a 15 year old, so I'm a little scared of what our grocery bill might look like in 10-15 years.  Maybe by then we'll all be able to just print our meals.

Until that point comes, I'm going to keep shopping at Aldi, and I'd suggest you check it out if you have one in your area.  In can be overwhelming at first, so I'd recommend trying to find an "Aldiholic" to go with for your first experience.  If you don't have one in your area, you may soon, as they seem to be expanding pretty rapidly.  They just opened stores in California, so if any of you West Coasters want to fly me out to provide some veteran assistance, just let me know.  I'll have to check my calendar and ensure that it doesn't conflict with any of my own regularly scheduled trips to Aldi.
            

Sure they look excited, but you should see the look on my face.
Outright giddy.  

^I used to get excited for both Sundays and Wednesday, as until the start of 2016, Aldi would release their weekly ad on Wednesdays instead of Sundays.  While I appreciate the uniformity, it has made waking up on Wednesday considerably less exciting.

*Another thing I like about Aldi is they don't accept coupons, which is great because then I never have to wonder if I'm actually getting a good deal by using the coupon.

'At Aldi all of their produce is pre-packaged & weighed.  It saves the staff time at the check-out and keeps you from being surprised when you learn you selected a 20lb bag of grapes that is going to cost you about $50,  

In a (not so) Sentimental Mood

What am I going to do with a gun rack?

The state of affairs around our house have been a little chaotic over the last month.  Let me rephrase that, a little more chaotic than average.  Hence the reason this post is a few weeks overdue.  We've been attempting to tackle some lingering minor projects that always seem to turn into major undertakings when you add children to the mix.  When the to-do list is long, and your kids have a way of adding to it faster than you can cross things out, it can really start to get out of hand.

This particular bout of excessive chaos started with a bunk bed.  The girls got one from Santa for Christmas - handcrafted by the Elves using the sturdiest North Pole timber.  Or, manufactured in China using the cheapest particle board possible.  The girls were sharing a full size bed which they were starting to outgrow, as we had them sleep the short way because Havi liked to commandeer most of the mattress space.  Isla's feet were getting pretty close to the edge, and I was pretty much over the lower half of my legs dangling to the ground when one of them needed an adult presence to expedite their journey to dreamland.  We aggressively suggested that they should ask for a bunk bed from Santa Claus, and apparently they made the nice list.  

What this ultimately meant though was that we were going to have to switch bedrooms with the girls, since we were pretty certain a twin over full bunk bed would take up about 75% of the floor space in their current room.  I didn't protest too much, considering all I really do in my bedroom is occasionally sleep.  We figured we could get by in the smaller room and giving the girls the larger room would allow more space for some of their toys - like the three story dollhouse they also got for Christmas that required a Master's Degree in Engineering to assemble.  Of course we also had to assemble the actual bunk bed, as the Elves packaged it nicely into two excessively cumbersome boxes for easier shipping (via China, of course).  I'm happy to announce that it is still intact.

After switching rooms, this sign quickly showed up on the girl's bedroom door.
Five-teen & three-teen....

If you thought the process would be as easy as moving our bed and wardrobe into the girls' room, assembling the bunk bed and moving their stuff into our old room, you would of course be grossly mistaken.  Before you switch rooms naturally their is the obligatory re-painting of the room, which itself involves at least four separate parts - deciding on a general hue/color scheme, painting samples of different paints that essentially look identical to the untrained eye, finalizing the paint choice (which someone in the family will ultimately regret once the room is completely painted), and applying the actual coats of paint.  This process can take at least 4-6 weeks, more if you attempt to involve your kids in the color decision process and/or painting application.

While we had most things moved out of the room to paint, we also figured that we should probably give the room its first thorough cleaning since, well before we moved in.  This pushed the project completion date back at least a week or two.  It doesn't help that your typical window of opportunity to try and get things like this done is the 45 minutes from when the kids finally fall asleep to when you're ready to pack it in for the night as well.  There were a couple of days when Gus watched me, stuck in his crib for much longer than he wanted to be after waking up from his nap, hurriedly try to finish some painting or cleaning.  I didn't want to risk non-removable light green footprints traipsed throughout our second level.  I made it clear to my wife that I loved the color of the room we were moving into (a pale salmon), and wouldn't change it for the world.

Once the room was painted and the bunk bed assembled, something we were able to do in relative peace as our gracious neighbor had the girls over for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon, all that was left was to put the rooms themselves together - moving dressers, clothes, corresponding wall art and floor rugs that cover most of the wood floors we paid to have refinished, etc.  Again, should be a fairly straightforward task, except that if your going to be moving clothes from one room to another, it seems like a good time to go through those clothes and remove any items that no longer fit or won't be worn by your children, you know, "just because".  I don't know how kids have a tendency to amass so many articles of clothing, especially given how few things they will actually let you put on them when they reach a certain age.  We recently parted with three 20 gallon storage bins of baby clothes that ranged from 0-12 months.  Three full bins of the smallest clothes a child will ever wear.  We even left out the ones permi-stained from spit-up and bowel movements, of which there were many.  

Clothes are one of many things that small children have a propensity to accumulate.  Between the toys, games, books (thanks Dolly Parton*), craft projects, personal care items, etc. I'm amazed at the amount of shit, er, I mean stuff, that seems to magically appear in your house when kids come along.  And I say "magically" appear because I have no recollection on how a vast majority came to be indefinitely strewn about the floors of our house.  While we attempt to keep things organized, being home with the kids all day tends to making any sort of cleaning up of children's things an exercise in sheer futility.  We unsuccessfully try to re-implement the "toys need to be put away before we play with a new one" rule about every 2 hours.  Thankfully, with our sleeping arrangement adjustments, we have made a conscious effort at some spring cleaning to meagerly pare down the kids items we have.

The children's book collection, post pare down.

While we are by no means hoarders, it can become easy to feel like one as I look around our house.  I am really one who dislikes clutter and like things to be organized, have a place and be used.  The simple side of me knows that we have too much, but it's not always as easy as tossing everything that seems excessive in the trash.  The practical side of me dislikes tossing things because I hate throwing things away that conceivably I could come up with a way to re-purpose.  Presumably into a fun and crafty project for the kids that I could put on Pinterest to make it seem like I'm so creative and make every other parent feel incompetent.  At the moment our "craft box" is overflowing with supplies and best intentions.  If you're looking for something, let me know as I'll probably be tossing its contents at the end of the week.  We also have a massive amount of tissue paper and gift bags - Christmas, Birthday, Baby, all occasion, you name it, we've got it.  If you're in the market for any of those items, let me know.  I'll give you a great deal.  

It can also be hard to get rid of the kid's stuff because there tends to be some sentimental value tied to it.  Even more when it comes to things that are crafted by your children, especially for you.  If you have kids in daycare or school, odds are they occasionally (or often) come home with little projects that they have been working on - a handprint turkey cut-out around Thanksgiving, a painted flower pot for Mother's Day, you know what I'm talking about.  This stuff is great, and when they show it to you, beaming with pride, your reaction is always the same - "oh, that's great honey!"  But what do you do with it?  Probably put it on the fridge for a few weeks and then stick it in a bin somewhere.  In her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom, Amy Chua recounts a time she refused to accept a homemade birthday card from one of her daughters because she thought her daughter had not but much effort into it.

I absolutely love watching my kids be creative, especially when they are at home and take the initiative to make something themselves.  This year for Christmas, Isla made Jess and I a photo collage of landscapes she had cut-out of magazines and calendars.  She glued them on to some red fabric she had found in our "craft box" and wrote Mom & Dad on it.  She worked on it all by herself for multiple days and wouldn't let us see what she was doing.  She even wrapped it up, put it under the Christmas tree and made us open it early.  It was fucking adorable, and to see the excitement on her face as we opened it made my heart melt.  But honestly, what are we going to do with this thing?  I've currently put it on display in our basement stairwell art gallery; a cavernous and dimly lit space where we've begun to hang most everything our kids draw, paint, color, or scribble.

Merry Christmas!
Sometimes on a really stressful day I'll just spend
some time staring at the soothing landscapes.

It creates an interesting conundrum, finding a balance of holding on to certain keepsakes for your kids, encouraging them to be creative, and not depriving them of a somewhat of typical childhood, while also ensuring that your sanity and ability to navigate the walkways of your home remain intact.  Beyond our basement stairwell art gallery, we've tried to incorporate our kid's "art" into our home decor when possible.  Despite taking Art History in college, I am no art aficionado, and feel like displaying our kids' creations provides a better backstory than "we bought it at Ikea".  I'm also somewhat ashamed to say that I've recently realized that grandparents (especially great ones) can make a good repository for excessive kid's art projects.  They absolutely love that stuff, and it can be a solid return on investment for the supplies and postage.  Mail a few paintings or drawings from your little ones off to grandma and grandpa and you've easily increased your piece of the inheritance.  It can also serve as a way to say "thank you" for hanging on to all of those baby items from 25 years ago that had to be passed down to the grandchildren.

Homemade outfits circa the early 80s.

I've also realized that sometimes you just have to take advantage of those times when you're likely feeling a little overwhelmed by the inevitable clutter that has taken control of your house, toss sentiment by the wayside and start pitching stuff at will.  You might have some hesitation to start, but those feelings tend to dissipate quickly when you need to address the next kid related crisis.  Sure your five year-old's masterpiece of your stick-figure family drawn in their favorite colors standing underneath a rainbow can be hard to let go of, but when you have multiple copies (one for every time the three year old changed her favorite color) you can probably part with a few.  You may be forced to address the question of what happened to the toilet paper roll dinosaur they created, but that gives you prime opportunity to hone your parental ambiguous answer skills.  "You know, honey, I'm not exactly sure what happened to that creative project you worked so hard on."  This is not a blatant lie, because while you know it ended up in the trash because you put it there, you're not exactly sure what garbage truck picked it up or what landfill was its final destination.

Often I can get frustrated with how frustrated I get (not a typo) with the clutter and the chaos of child-rearing, even though I'm well aware that it will always be there in some form.  As someone who likes things orderly and organized, and someone who spends an exorbitant amount of time at home with my kids, I can be easily overwhelmed by how messy things can get in what I'll call the "parental periphery" - where accessories (or "excessive-ries") can often be conflated with necessities.  The bunk bed situation is a classic example.  I felt that once it was assembled we could relocate some of the kid's toys to their room, get their closet under control, pare down our children's book collection and hold them accountable for keeping their new room semi-clean.  We'd have that taken care of, things would be perfectly in place, and we could go along humming about normal daily routine.  Shockingly, the bunk bed hasn't been a silver bullet.  It hasn't really even served its purpose because Isla has just taken to sleeping with Havi on the bottom bunk anyway.  There are still clothes on the floor and books not reshelved.  The wall art hasn't been hung and who knows when it ever will.

But I know that's missing the point, and we should all know that's missing the point.  We just always seem to need occasional reminders of that.  And when I do, I like to revisit the musings of one of my favorite late 20th Century philosophers.  Now off to throw the duvet on the floor so I can actually sleep in the bed.^


*No seriously, thank you Dolly.  The Imagination Library is an amazing philanthropic organization.  I just wish the books all came in the same size so they would fit better on the bookshelf we had to buy to hold all of the books you sent us.

^Who am I kidding, the duvet is already on the floor.  Just like it always is.

      
                                  

Dad Needs a Sick Day

Mama called the doctor and the doctor said..

There is a commercial for Dayquil/Nyquil indicating that parents don't get sick days.  While the fact is often true, parents don't get sick days, that doesn't mean that we don't need one from time to time.  I get sick, like out of commission sick, usually once a year.  Minor colds a little more frequently, along with my seasonal allergies (thanks neanderthals).  I've commented before that since become a parent, and having a child that interacts with other snot-nosed kids, sharing germs and neglecting to wash hands for the entire ABC song, I've found myself more often sick from natural causes then from being hungover.  When you have kids, comparable to when you are retired, you're inclined to talk about your ailments though.  Common parental banter includes the oft-asked question, especially this time of year, "are you staying healthy?"  

Sick days were not a big deal when I was a working dad with kids in daycare.  Send the kids off, probably to pick up new germs to bring home, while you veg out on the couch, recover and watch the movies you should have seen as new releases four years ago that are now playing on USA.  Because I didn't get sick very often, something I feel pretty fortunate about, I took sick leave pretty infrequently when I was working, and when I "retired" I probably had about two months worth of unused sick leave.  I probably would have had more had I not been able to use my sick leave for when my kids were sick or needed to go to the doctor, another thing I felt very fortunate about.  Since I had a more flexible work environment, along with ample sick leave in comparison to my wife (see earlier post), I was typically the one who stayed home with a sick kid(s) or went with them to an always adventurous trip to the clinic (see earlier post).  While you never want to see your kids sick, sometimes a good cuddle day on the couch can do wonders for both an under-the-weather child and an often over-exerted parent.

Obviously being a stay-at-home parent, without the benefits of paid sick leave, or even at times an outlet for your kids should someone in your family fall ill, your options tend to be a little more limited.  When your kids are depending on you to feed them and supervise their behavior throughout the day, you can only quarantine yourself in your bedroom, or the bathroom should symptoms warrant it, for so long.  This means you are going to have to engage with your kids, at least minimally, when all you want to do is curl up in the fetal position and hit the reset button on your life.  Every little annoyance your kids might typically cause throughout the day will be amplified by 102, or whatever temperature your baby thermometer is reading after you use it on yourself.  

Being a sick stay-at-home parent also means that inevitably whatever you have, your kids will be getting shortly.  Or conversely, whatever they had they have now given to you to pass along to anyone else in your house who has not already gotten it, or something worse, within the last week.  While our kids are probably not getting sick as often without them being in daycare, when someone in our house does get sick, then we are essentially all guaranteed to get sick.  I've heard horror stories about families that had the flu pass through everyone in their house, and then repeat its cycle once the last person was finally starting to feel better.  As Justin Timberlake would say, "what goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around."  Yeah.  

Since becoming a stay-at-home parent, I've had two instances of really needing a sick day.  The first was this fall, when my seasonal allergies seemed to turn into something a little more serious.  I suspect pneumonia, because after Gus started running a multi-day fever the doctor informed us he had pneumonia.  I let mine go undiagnosed, but took a few swigs of his antibiotic for good measure.  Luckily on this occasion, we had prearranged for my Mom to take our girls overnight, so my parenting responsibilities during that particular bout of illness were limited to a 10 month old who was feeling somewhat under the weather as well.  I tried not to breathe on him, which proved to be a challenge when all he wanted to do was be held.  

The second time was two weeks ago, and manifested itself in the stomach flu, which is always more exciting.  I very much dislike the stomach flu, as it usually has a tendency to really knock me out.  I was never one to "puke & rally" during my younger, considerably dumber, days of excessive imbibing.  If I was praying at the porcelain altar at the end of a night of incredibly bad decisions, the outlook for the following day (or two) was pretty bleak.  Fortunately, in the relative rarity of my getting sick, the stomach flu tends to be even less common, and I think this was my first case of flu induced reserve peristalsis in at least five years.  Aesthetically this is good because my wife has informed me that I'm a "loud puker".  Not something I really take as a compliment.

I could feel my condition deteriorating early afternoon on Thursday, at which point I confined myself to one of our couches (see earlier post) and turned the TV on for the kids.  Havi was also starting to complain about her "tummy" hurting*, and naturally wanted to lie down by dad, literally right on my midsection.  Gus moseyed over to the couch and proceed to hit me and poke me in the face, wondering why I wouldn't get up.  Whatever I had apexed around 3pm, when I bolted for the bathroom to become unwillingly reacquainted with my lunch.  At one point Isla came to check on me and inquire if I was going "poo-poo" or "pee-pee".  I attempted to explain that it was neither, and she seemed to get the gist.  My wife returned home after work to find me half comatose on the couch and the kids (Gus included) zombied in front of the TV.  I promptly put in for sick leave and recused myself to the basement.

My bug seemed to be about a 24 hour thing, and by mid-day on Friday was making considerable improvement.  Saturday morning I felt good enough to consider myself a functioning parent, which was perfect timing because my wife had to go work that morning and almost made it through her entire shift before tossing.  While she was away, Isla also got sick, throwing up on me multiple times as I attempted to carry her to the bathroom.  If your going to spew, spew into this (dad's shirt).  Her inability to predict her urges to honk turned most of my morning into doing laundry, cleaning floors, and trying to keep non-vomiting kids away from the vomit, all whilst trying to hold down my own vomit as my stomach was still somewhat queasy.  At least kids tend to be pretty resilient, and Isla always seemed to be able to produce a lighthearted chuckle after pointing out that she threw up.  Yes, honey, I saw it.  And felt it.

By Sunday everyone seemed to be back to normal, and fortunately neither Gus nor Havi came down with anything as bad as what the rest of us had.  Havi still complained occasionally of her stomach hurting, and Gus was going on a week of a smoker's cough, so any odd sound from them was followed by a tense waiting for projectile vomit to follow, but nothing serious ever materialized.  To make matters even more exciting, the weekend we fell ill, the outside temps scarcely nudged above 0, and wind-chills hovered in the -20 range, making leaving the house for supplies (7up, saltines) a polar expedition.  My wife was also on-call for work over the weekend but fortunately didn't get called until Sunday when everything seemed to have passed.  We made it through another bout of family illness, hopefully to have a little reprieve before the next plague descends on our house.

Even beyond the family illnesses, being a stay-at-home parent can produce a perilous environment at times.  It's very morbid to consider, but when I'm holding multiple children while descending our staircase, I occasionally wonder what might happen if I fell down the stairs and became incapacitated.  Or if I just had a completely unforeseen medical emergency during the day that hindered my ability to perform my parental duties.  They are intricate tasks, and attempting them with any sort of handicap is never fun.  A few weeks ago, I took sizable chunks out of the tips of my index and middle finger on my dominant hand while using the new slicer I got for Christmas.^  Have you ever tried changing diapers of a squirmy 1 year old without the use of your two most important fingers?

Not that anyone needs to be calling me every hour to check-in to ensure that I'm still breathing and the kids are being looked after (okay, Mom?).  But taking kids to the ER when you're fully functioning is taxing enough, imagine if you were the one that needed medical attention and the kids were just along for the ride (and moral support of course).  That would definitely be some good blog material, once you were fully recovered.  Family life can be a treacherous place, so stay safe out there parents.  Head on a swivel and wash those hands.

It had been at least 20 years since I'd seen "Babe"

 Of the two below photos, one is taken with a sick parent and one is taken with a hungover parent.  

I won't divulge which is which.

*I take most of Havi's bodily sensation pronouncements with a grain of salt, as her tummy also occasionally tells her that it wants to watch a movie, but this time there seemed to be justifiable concern.

^This item was not on my SAHD Christmas list, but it is equal parts awesome and dangerous.

It's the Most Wondeful(ly stressful) Time of the Year

"You Do It To Yourself, You Do"

So we survived the chaos that is the Holiday season.  It's no easy feat with small children, but we all made it to 2016.  The emotions oscillated between the highest highs and the lower of lows, and the tears were plentiful, sometimes of joy, mostly of frustration and exhaustion.  Given the fact that two of our kids celebrate birthdays between Christmas and New Year's (Gus' actually being on Christmas Day) and my wife and our oldest share a birthday just before Thanksgiving, the last six weeks of the calendar year are usually awash in celebrations.  This year was no different.  It started the week before Thanksgiving with a birthday tea party for Isla with a dozen other 5 year-olds, included multiple Thanksgiving and Christmas Celebrations, and found us making our inaugural trip to Chuck E. Cheese for Havi's 3rd birthday.  The #brunsfamilyfun culminated with Jess and I celebrating our 7th wedding anniversary in style at a rock show^ the weekend after Christmas.    

As a cynical realist, I always get a little miffed at the general approach to the Holiday season.  It's the "Most Wonderful Time of the Year"; with so much "misletoeing" how can our hearts not be glowing?  A time to sit inside by the crackling fire and watch the snow fall outside because we've no place to go.  All of this Holiday Merriment tends to stress us out though.  Between decking the halls, going over the river and through the woods to grandma's house, or putting presents on the tree (who actually puts presents on the tree?), there never seems to be enough time, energy or sanity to get everything accomplished.  Without fail, we get a little closer than we want to snapping a gingerbread man's head off* and cancelling Christmas.

I tend to think of myself as a relatively calm person.  An old coworker once asked me what sedative my doctor prescribed me and how he could get his hands on some.  Even though I did do a few things this Holiday season that I vehemently swore I'd never do, like put up outdoor Christmas lights, I felt my typical stressfree self going into the whirlwind that is the Christmas celebration.  I did however have my moment of overwhelm the Monday after Christmas, after returning from three straight days of celebrations.  In the process of making my third trip to our recycling container with empty boxes from new toys accumulated by the kids, I noticed the smear of finger prints on our back door.  I was certain these were from Gus, as one of his top five favorite activities is to give continuous high fives to any glass window he can find, and that they could range anywhere from a few hours to a few months old.

As I sighed, realizing all of the other things I had neglected over the past few weeks while we were rocking around the Christmas tree, I recalled something my 94 year old Grandma said when we stopped by her apartment on Christmas Day.  Gus had found his way over to her patio door to engage in his typical window banging, and I offered to windex the glass before we left.  She told me not to bother because she hadn't cleaned the ones off from the last time we were there a few months prior.  What I saw as another thing to add to the cleaning list, she saw as a memento of the time she got to spend with her great-grandkids.    

My Mom, another preserver of grandkid fingerprints on windows, has a quote on her fridge by Cesare Pavese that reads "we do not remember days, we remember moments."  I think this is particularly poignant during the holiday season, as we bend over backwards to find the best gift for our kids or loved ones or try in seeming vain to create those perfect holiday moments.  I remember standing in a lengthy return line at a large retailer shortly after Christmas a few years ago thinking of how stores have to build in the expense of return cost when pricing an item, and how all of us probably pay more for things because we are overtly picky and bad gift givers.  Along with including a gift receipt with the gift, the most common thing that seems to be said after a gift is open is, "you can return it if you want."  'Tis the season.  

I once read a suggestion about doing a "buy nothing" Christmas with your family, and I really hope my family can do this at some point.  Not because I am cheap (though I am pretty cheap), but because I think the concept could resonate powerfully with young kids.  Of course at the time it would be powerfully negative, as they would be pissed as hell.  But hopefully they might understand the reasoning eventually as they get older.  Whether you celebrate Christmas in the traditional fashion or not, taking a break from the excessive commercialism that roles around at that time of year can offer a needed respite from the stress that tends to come with "buying" into those societal norms.  We all know "things" don't make us happy, at least not in the long run.  People do, relationships do, moments do.  If my parents had done a "buy nothing" Christmas when I was growing up, undoubtedly that would have been the most memorable Christmas I ever had (in a very bad way then, in a good way now).

The hard part comes with the kids, because they can easily get filled with the Christmas "magic".  We want to see their eyes light up on Christmas morning when they are tearing through their presents.  It makes us feel accomplished as parents to see the smiles on their faces.  Or as author Lisa Earle McLeod puts it, "childhood happiness has become the scorecard by which adults measure their success or failure as parents."  But I think it is important at a young age to help them understand what really is the Christmas magic.  After a while, typically a lot shorter than you probably think given the price tag, the allure of the toy will probably fade.  The kid will be on to the next thing (or more interested in the box it came in), and you'll be left stepping on the many pointy accessories that came with the toy and never seem to get put away.  But the real Christmas magic is in the happy moments together with the people you love, no matter where you are or what you are doing.  Fortunately, or not in some cases, thanks to our memory bias, you typically remember more of the good ones than the bad ones.  I think about the irony of this, as I'm currently going through our photos from 2015 to create our annual year-in-review slideshow montage, deleting the bad ones and keeping the good.  And of course creating that 2016 photo folder so we can do it all again next year....

   This is probably where that family photo 

of us from Christmas should go.

Had it gotten taken.

Yes Mom, I will gladly eat this cake you made for my birthday.

Nothing like a little video arcade road rage at Chuck E. Cheese.

                      

^Okay, bit of a stretch.  After a two year hiatus, the "band" that I "play" in conveniently booked a show on our anniversary.  Her gift to me was allowing me to pretend to be a rock star for a night - best present ever.  I bought her a drink at the bar (with her money of course).
   

*I know it's sexist, but I don't want to condone violence against women

Subtitle courtesy of Thom Yorke  

Oh, Caravan!

An Ode to Practicality

When you become a parent, especially for the second or third time, you tend to find yourself looking at things through the lens of practicality.  In the midst of the chaos that comes with children, you look for anything and everything that can simplify the process or calm the storm.  Your life takes on certain complexities that seem incomprehensible to those without children, but make so much sense to you.  Somebody wants you and your children under age 5 to do something after lunch?  Not a chance.  Anticipating the kids sleeping longer on the weekend because you told the sitter they could stay up later while you were out “painting the town”?  Wishful thinking*.  Keeping a potty chair in your vehicle just in case?  Smart move.  Because you have practically zero control over how your day will unfold, your approach to it has to be as practical as possible if you ever hope to survive.
 

The purchase of our minivan is a prime example.  The minivan is a bastion of practicality – seating for seven, the seemingly never-ending storage space, relatively good gas mileage considering the occupancy level of the vehicle, reasonable insurance premiums.  Did I mention the storage space?  You may have hesitations about the stigma surrounding people who drive such contraptions`, but once you get one, it’s hard to imagine life without one.  Or, as an article pointing out the complexities of having three kids notes, “you need an automatic sliding side door the way an eel needs water.”  I’ve actually started to eagerly imagine the first adults-only road trip that the van can be utilized for.

        

Because it is such a practical vehicle, I feel as though my approach to operating it should be congruent with its practicality.  Yes, I am the guy driving the actual speed limit because it yields me the best gas mileage.  Honestly, I’m not usually in a hurry to get anywhere, because when you’re trying to go somewhere with kids you’re either late or early.  And when we’re late, we’re likely so late already it doesn’t make a difference.  I don’t really care if you’re running behind for work or your yoga class or your coffee date.  My improved gas mileage is more important than your time.  I’m also assuming that you are talking/texting/tweeting/posting a selfie and focusing about 17% of your attention on the road.  You’re welcome to speed by me coming out of the stoplight; I’ll keep my RPMs under 2000 to balance the redlining of yours.  You can even honk or gesture obscenely if you’d like.  As Marge Simpson would say, “slow and steady wins the race!”
  

I've always been relatively frugal (read: cheap), but my parental practicality has helped me develop a more effective approach to utilizing our various resources.  Like washing and reusing Ziploc bags or any jar or container that seems as though it could hold something else after its original contents have been consumed.  I’ve been known to put the clothes my kid’s wore throughout the day back in their drawers if they don’t seem excessively dirty.  To say nothing of my own clothes that don’t even make it into a drawer, but rather a pile on the floor to be put back on tomorrow, and likely the day after that, visibly dirty or not (see earlier post).  Toilet paper that Gus has pulled off of the roll while entertaining himself in the bathroom either gets re-rolled or folded nicely and placed on top of the toilet ready to be used for its actual purpose.  And when the toilet paper is actually gone of course we’ll put that empty paper roll in the “craft box” along with anything else I think could possibly be used for a “creative project”, where it will sit for a few months before I eventually just recycle it anyway.
          

Taking a practical viewpoint of things can work itself into all kinds of scenarios.  You become hyperaware of your plan of action should anyone in your party need to use the bathroom while out in public. When we go anywhere, I immediately identify the closest bathroom and mentally visualize the quickest route to said bathroom should anyone start to motion toward their crotch.  My questioning of my kid’s need to use the potty before we leave the house or when we find ourselves in close proximity to a bathroom could be considered borderline interrogation.  Are you sure you don’t have to go?  How about now?  And of course we keep a potty chair in our van as part of our roadside emergency kit; it’s a genius idea I wish I could take credit for.  There’s also more than ample space.

 

Sometimes the approach of parental practicality is done during times of sheer impracticality.  Most notably this time of year when we tend to ask our little ones to complete insurmountable tasks – sitting still for family photos while dressed in uncomfortable clothes we’ve sternly instructed them not get dirty; behaving like sweet little angels in new environments while off the regular routine and coked up on frosted cookies and candy canes; waiting patiently to open presents that have been sitting under a tree visibly taunting them for weeks; acting cordial when we try to coax them to sit on the lap of some stranger who has a big white beard and a one of a kind red ensemble^.  We make gracious attempts to stay practical, like keeping the bottom third of our Christmas trees free of any ornaments, especially the old “sentimental” ones that are 100% pure lead paint.  We make comments like, “that went about as expected” to give us some justification for putting our kids through the torment.

Luckily, when it’s all said and done and the Holidays are over, we can always pile back into the calm oasis that is the minivan.  Inside everything will be peaceful and serene, as long as everyone is sleeping (save the driver) or there is a movie playing on the built in DVD player (a feature I was adamantly opposed to before better grasping its practicality).  Sure it will be full of new relatively impractical things that we’ll have to find practical ways to deal with when we get home.  But at least we’ll still fit comfortably because the amount of storage space is unreal.

           

*Let’s be honest, after you have kids you no longer paint the town.  At best you prime it, but usually you’re just edging or doing the trim.  Every parent knows the later you let your kid stay up, the earlier they will be up the next morning, no matter how hung-over you are.  Luckily you are seldom hung-over anymore because it’s just not practical.

`I drove a van for the better part of my senior year of high school.  This was done more for the sake of irony than practicality.  And suitable punishment for some reckless teenage behavior.

^I think I’d be concerned if my kids didn’t freak out when we encourage them to sit on Santa’s lap.

           

Seriously, look at the space.  You could live in there.
Down by the river, of course.
  

I'm glad she finds the presence of an abnormally
dressed man she's never met somewhat disturbing.

Parenting Strengthsfinder 2.0

Arranger (of playdates)

Responsibility (for driving the minivan)

Harmony (on the children’s music)

I just passed the one year mark on my tenure as a stay-at-home parent.  Thus I figured it’s about time for my first annual performance review, something I had the pleasure of doing on a yearly basis before I “retired” and something I’m sure a number of you are familiar with.  Now I haven’t actually had an official performance review on how I am doing as a stay-at-home parent, but if I did, it would likely be conducted by my wife, who of course is the boss.  There was a news headline a few weeks ago that suggested that spouses should actually do some form of performance review with each other as a form of relationship building.  While that seems good in theory, I’m guessing not too many couples have started the practice.  

Of course every performance review has a self appraisal component, where you inform your boss of how you think you are doing with your job responsibilities.  I usually approached these sections with some general restraint, usually giving myself mostly 3s & 4s on the 5-point Likert Scale.  Downplay how well I thought I was doing, which would typically lead to one of two scenarios:  1. My boss informing me that they thought I was doing way better than what I thought I was doing, which lead to some nice ego-boosting.  Or 2, (and usually more common) where my boss would agree with my assertions that I was doing pretty middle of the road work, which in reality meant that I was actually doing pretty piss poor work and should probably get my act together.

So, how is it going or how do I think I am doing on fulfilling my responsibilities as a stay-at-home parent?  I’d still give myself some 3x & 4s on that 5-point Likert Scale.  Like any other job or responsibility, I tend to have my good days and bad days.  I had a lot of lofty goals, and despite this being my “year of do”, I only accomplished a handful.  On the positive side, I haven’t lost any of them yet, we haven’t broken anything too valuable, and I don’t believe I’ve unintentionally introduced them to any curse words.  That is not to say that we haven’t had our fair share of bumps along the way.  Just this week, Jess came home from work to find a very noticeable bruise and bump on Gus’ forehead to which I had absolutely no explanation for.  Later that evening, I found Havi applying appliance epoxy to the exposed part of her skin.  Can you tell us about a time when you don’t feel as though you were able to completely execute the duties of your position? 

Part of doing a self review for a job is identifying your strengths and weakness, or areas of improvement in more friendly verse.  I certainly have my own strengths and weaknesses as a parent, like most others do.  I could egregiously tell you that my weaknesses are that I love my kids too much, or I try too hard to engage and keep them happy all the time.  But of course that isn’t true, and that type of answers if probably why most people think performance reviews are a waste of time, as we’re never really honest during them.
 

Kids are honest though, sometimes brutally.  I suppose I could do a performance appraisal with them, but I think I already know what the feedback would be – you don’t let us watch enough tv, you should give us more candy, sometimes you get lazy while giving horse rides, etc.  A few weeks ago, Isla told me that I was bad at brushing hair.  It’s a very valid criticism; I’m not very good at brushing hair.  I have limited experience, and my personal need to brush my hair has been on the sharp decline since having children.  While I understand that there are some safety concerns ensuring that your child’s hair is adequately brushed following a bath, I will be the first to admit that “hair presentation” is definitely a weakness of mine.  I can put in a pony-tail, not a good one, but one that will hold the majority of the girls’ hair back or at least five minutes.  I also claim that I can braid hair, but not any of my children’s.  Only the hair of inanimate objects that sit completely motionless, can’t feel pain and don’t talk back. 

My lack of finger dexterity will almost always guarantee that any diaper changes I do will take considerably longer and involve many more tears than they should.  I’ve never understood why the buttons on children’s clothing need to be so small (or why buttons are needed at all).  I’ve also learned that for anyone over 6 feet tall, there never seems to be a comfortable position to change a diaper of a squirming baby.  Invariably you are hunched over in the most awkward, permanent back-pain inducing position for much longer than you’d like trying to get the damn buttons on the onsie to match up.  While I recognize these weaknesses, I’m probably not going to do much to try and improve on some of the arbitrary ones.  Sure, one could make the argument that I can practice and work on getting better at styling my girls’ hair or become more efficient with my diaper changes.  Consider those weaknesses though the next time you hand me a jar of salsa to open or ask me to get something off the top shelf.  I know what my strengths are and how they can be best utilized.

I’ve always considered patience to be one of my strengths in life in general.  Being a stay-at-home parent has definitely tested this patience, and I’ve certainly found a number of times when I’ve really struggled to keep a level head when interacting with my kids.  I’m reading a great book right now called Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids and it has been a much needed refresher on how to stay calm and patient during those particularly trying times.  Kids can certainly add a significant amount of stress to our life, but parenting does not have to be a stressful experience.  As Dr. Markham points out, kids act like kids because they are kids.  It doesn’t do us any good to judge their behavior.

 

It also doesn’t do us any good to judge other parents or other children, but this is something parents seem to be horrible at.  Even for me, as non-judgmental as I believe I am, it becomes all too easy to watch other parents and their children and compare them to your children and your parenting style, as pointless as it is.  I remember our pediatrician once commenting that all kids develop differently; physically, emotionally, and intellectually.  This is something I try to keep in mind when I see my children interacting with other children, and wondering if my kids are smarter, healthier, more socially mature, and better behaved than their peers.  What I’m really measuring through that valuation is if I’m doing a better job at parenting than my peers.  

This is absurd because we don’t, at least we shouldn’t, parent our kids for the recognition of other parents.  We parent our kids to foster connection and sustain a meaningful relationship with them.  To provide them the unconditional love and support so they can go out and be successful in the world.  And the best way to do this is to create a peaceful, loving environment.  The irony is that while we probably claim we don't like to be judged (hence the reason we probably hate the performance reviews), our behavior seems to suggest just the opposite, especially today in our social media filled lives.  Every time we post something about ourselves, our children, or the company we keep, we're really looking for judgement from the broader public on our behavior and viewpoints.  In monitoring the various likes, shares, retweets, page hits and comments provides we are looking for validation of ourselves.  Obviously I can't claim to be above this as I'm utilizing a social medium right now to express my opinions to be judged by others.         

 

Our kids will always find ways to get on our nerves, and because we are imperfect humans, we will inevitably have moments with our kids that won’t go as well as we’d like.  I’ve experienced this first hand; a lot.  As parents we get to choose how to react to those moments.  As an old colleague liked to remind me when a situation arose at work that created some tension, “they don’t pay us enough to stress out.”  Undoubtedly I’ll never get to the point on any “parental performance review” of tallying all 5s on that 5-point scale, as the hair and make-up will probably always be my "areas of improvement".  But if we work on trying to ensure that we are parenting consciously and mindful of our own emotions and actions, we should hopefully consistently meet expectations (the 3s), if not occasionally exceed them (the 4s).  It may not get you a promotion or a pay raise, but it will at least keep you employed.

Of course this was not my doing.