The Tantrum Faze

He looks so sweet. My little boy, crouched at Daddy's knee, plays happily with a spoon. We carry on delightul father-son banter while Dad smokes a pipe or reads the paper or sips his Manhattan project. This is not the stay-at-home-dad world that we actually live in, but let me carry on a little longer in my fantasy. Son, let me tell you about the important things. "Yes, Daddy?" He sits, amazed, as I tell tales of pre-baby travel, romantic exploits, and clever comebacks. "Wow, Dad - you're my hero!" Of course I am, son, of course I am.

There is some truth to this fantasy, I am sure. I think that at some stage all little boys make heroes of their fathers. They want to grow up in their father's image, and imagine their own hopes and dreams. And my boy loves me madly, despite the fact that we are the hard-hearted Cry-It-Out parents you've all heard about. But babies grow into little people, and those people begin to develop their own motivations and desires. They call this the toddler stage of childhood. It comes before the terrible twos and after the thrill of learning to walk.

Until just recently I thought parenting through this stage was going to be pretty easy. And then suddenly, the tantrums began. Tantrums are something I have been expecting. I understood, rationally, that young children have a disconnect between what they want and what they are able to say. I also thought I would be able to control my reaction, or emotional response to these occurences. Be patient, don't take it personally, et cetera. Those were my expectations, but the reality is somewhat different.

My boy throws tantrums over stupid things. He doesn't want to wear the blue jacket. He wants to watch Elmo. He doesn't want the orange peel to touch any part of his plate. He wants to hold his own spoon when we eat the yogurt. These are simple things, and I know my boy well enough to read his desires. This is not the problem. The problem is that the desires are SO STRONG. It is like he just learned to want something and now suddenly it is ALL HE WANTS. He becomes fixated on that one thing with such force that is scares him. It is almost a chemical reaction to his emotions. I MUST DRINK FROM THAT EMPTY BEER BOTTLE. Or the world will end. Period.

Second, I am surprised at my impatience with these behaviors. A few times now he has gone completely out of control. I have used the strategy of picking him up, carrying him away for a few moments (maybe 30 seconds?) and letting him cry. Then I give him some sympathy, explain that we can't COMPLETELY LOSE OUR SHIT like that. We have to maintain some modicum of acceptable social behavior. Then I ask, "Do you want to try again?" Through the tears, the response has always been "Yeah." We try again, and everything goes much better the second time. I hate to take it to that level. WAY better to distract, give him what he wants, or just move on from this increasingly whiny emotional roller coaster.

We leave on a family vacation this month. Mommy, Jeep, and Daddy will all be traveling the world, eating in restaurants, sleeping in strange hotels, and chasing bands of developing-world stray dogs around the beach. I fully expect the tantrum monster to take on new life with the rigors of travel and schedule interruptions. What will the Daddy Life do to combat this monster? Stay tuned.

Naturalist Daddy

While my boy was sleeping yesterday, I spied a bird of prey out the window.

This stage of parenting is an interesting one for me. Being home alone during nap time has been a constant struggle with my own restlessness. I can't (in good conscience) step out for a walk, or a trip to the store, or a quick nine holes. I also seem to avoid getting involved in "house projects," as the nursery and the tools are in very close proximity. That leaves me with cooking, reading, and computer time during Jeep's naps.

Occasionally I come up with something that sparks my interest. We've been interested in eagles these days, so I tried to catch this guy with my ten-dollar telescope off the back deck. Managed to snap this shot with the camera before he flew off after some field mice.

Co-operation

Last year about this time I made a discovery that has profoundly enriched my experience as a stay-at-home-parent: we found a co-op preschool for Jeep.

From the beginning, Jeep was interested in other children. I knew instinctively that my job as a Stay-At-Home-Parent (SAHP) would be to find and facilitate these social interactions as much as possible. So of course I was enthusiastic when I stumbled upon a local co-op preschool with a "young toddler" classroom for kids aged 1-2 years. We visited, we loved it, and we signed him up.

My boy was born in late August, which makes him the youngest among his peers for life in the school system. Schools generally send kids with September birthdays into the next school year. Jeep turned 1 in August, and in September he started school. He had just learned to walk.

This particular school is only available to SAHPs, because it requires parents to work one "shift" throughout the week. School runs from 9am to 1pm, and there is a full time teacher there every day. We sing, we read books, we play outside, and we go for walks. Jude knows the other children, and they know him. We have gotten to know other families, and I have been exposed to some different methods of parenting and child management.

The people at the co-op are not my best friends. But somehow, someway, the experience of parenting together (often in close quarters) creates an intimacy that comes quickly. I trust these people to raise my child. In return, the takeaway for Jeep is huge. He loves our class, the children, the teacher, and the other parents. When I walk out the door on my "daddy day off" he doesn't even look up.

There was something lost when our modern civilization moved out of small communities and into the developed world of private homes and freeway commuting. We lost the mentality of the village. In a place like our co-op, we have managed to find it again.

Where would I be without them? I am basically a gregarious person. It helps make the sometimes lonely occupation of stay-at-home-parenting a little more friendly.

Attachment and Desire

The Daddy Life has been silent for some months now. Roughly two months, between the time when my boy moved from 15 months young to 17 months old. I assure you that we are all well and busy, navigating the paths of Christmastime, family, the new year, and co-op preschool.

Somewhere in the midst of all those traditions, my little boy took new steps toward becoming a person. He has begun to express preference and WANT things. And I mean REALLY want them. He is no longer to be distracted by a quick switch from the toybox, or a funny face, or a book. He REMEMBERS. He's a persistent little guy.

Sometimes he gets what he wants, and sometimes he doesn't. We have been very careful not to introduce the word NO into his 20 word vocabulary, but it's bound to come out soon. Instead, we try to find ways to moderate our language.

ME: (very calmly) We don't put our hands in the toilet water. You can wash your hands in the sink.

JEEP: (splash splash)

Fortunately, he's still small enough that I can pick him up and remove him from most situations. Last week he was underfoot while we were in the kitchen making dinner. His mother and I were both standing nearby when he GRABBED A PAN OFF THE STOVE. What the H? How did this kid get so tall? He's tall enough to get things off the countertop, but still too small to trust near the stove. Superdad over here snatched that hot pan right out of his little hands before there were sauteed onions all over the room.

There are boundaries, and then there are REAL boundaries. The ones that involve safety are hard and fast. I might have yelled out a NO! on that one.

As the Stay-At-Home-Parent, I am sure that the setting of boundaries and molding of behavior will fall on my shoulders. I have experience in this, from my former career as a special education teacher. But never before have I been quite so closely tied to my client.

I tend to laugh it off when he gives me THE LOOK (see below). But who am I kidding? I love this little guy, and I hate to see him upset.

I guess my job is changing again. Its moving from keeping my boy safe, dry, clothed, and well-fed, and into more challenging arenas. He has discovered DESIRE. There are eastern religions which attribute attachment and desire as the cause of all unhappiness. I don't really buy that. My boy has a boundless capacity for happiness, and I won't squash it. Have we entered the realm of PHILOSOPHY here? Does it fall upon me to teach my boy to moderate his own desires in the world around him?

Number One in Our Hearts

Jeep is 15 months old today! It has been an amazing run.

Trip report: our first baby has successfully crossed the line to small person. Tonight his mom asked out loud - "Jeep, how can you be so short, but still be such a regular person in every other way?" He was banging all the pots in the kitchen with a carboard wrapping paper tube. It turns out that they all make slightly different sounds. Jude did not reply to this, but I could see some sarcasm in his gaze as he glanced back at her. What are you thinking, you little monster? Maybe something like, "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Jeep has successfully completed the race distance of 15 months of life. There was a close call at the Children's Museum treehouse last week, but we've put that behind us. Tonight he was awarded this medal for bravery in combat and courage under fire. Actually, he just found it in the toy bin and wouldn't put it down. But it looks good on him.

What will the next months bring? Our boy is healthy and happy in every way. You had better live it up, little Jeep. There is a little sister or brother on the way that will change your life forever. In the meantime, you get all our cheers, all our attention, and all our love. Go for the gold, baby! Sprint it to win it!

Be the Man Your Kids Want You To Be

I've had some sobering news this past few weeks.

A close friend was in a car crash late at night on a curvy road. There were four people in the car, and they had all been drinking. My friend was driving, and the accident crushed both of his legs. His girlfriend is under intensive care, and the other passengers were thrown from the vehicle, but walked away unharmed.

I visited my friend in the hospital. His injuries were healing, but his emotions were still on a roller coaster. He reminded me of another night, about a year ago, when were were out drinking and driving around the city. "You are the shittiest designated driver I've ever seen," I had joked. That wasn't quite so funny anymore.

Another friend recently confessed to me that he was drinking too much in the evenings. This was time spent at home with his family, and he wanted to break the pattern. He found that the hour between arriving home and having dinner was a crucial one for self discipline, so he arranged his computer calendar to send him text messages every 15 minutes with reminders. These reminders would say things like "Be the man your children want you to be." That is some heavy emotional blackmail, if you ask me, but it was effective. I admire this.

I told you those two stories so I could tell you about this one.

Yesterday a couple followed some tire tracks off the road near a creek on the Oregon coast. They found an upturned SUV, filling with water, the passengers hysterical. Children were crying. They called emergency services, and a local guy heard it on the police scanner. (Who listens to a police scanner on a Wednesday afternoon?) He jumped in his truck and drove up the road.

The first man plunged into the water to help remove the passengers and couldn't open the doors. He broke the windshield with a rock to rescue the driver, a woman in her twenties. The second man arrived on scene and entered the water with a knife in his hand. He found the children in the back seat and cut their seatbelt straps, then passed them to safety through the icy water.

The woman was hysterical. "There's three!" she yelled, "He's in the front seat!" That's when the men went back into the water and found the six-month old baby, strapped into the carseat, submerged in the water. They cut the baby out, carried him to shore, and began CPR on the little lifeless body as sirens and paramedics arrived at the scene. Doctors were able to revive the little boy, who is listed in critical condition.

The police indicated that the driver was "very intoxicated" at the time of the crash.

There were a number of rescuers that day, made up of friends and neighbors and good samaritans, but I cannot stop thinking about those two men in the water.

These are sobering stories. This is not meant to be a comment on the dangers of alcohol, or a confession of fears, or a condemnation of drunken drivers. These stories bring up a lot of feelings for me.

Maybe I want to point out this simple fact: parenting is a sobering activity. Learning to love and be loved by the children in your life is its own kind of rush. Taking good care of your own little family brings many surprising rewards. It leaves me a little unsettled, and quiet, and much, much more careful.

If I'm going to be the man my boy wants me to be, then I need to remember these stories. I want to be the man in the river, holding the knife. That's the man I want to be, and I think I can be that man. I might to have to get a good knife.

Here's the story.

http://www.oregonlive.com/news/index.ssf/2009/11/rescuers_wade_into_a_lincoln_c.html

Fall Adventures

The Daddy Life and son are compelled to report on a successful adventure.

Jeep, Daddy, and our good friend all drove out to see my grandmother on a bright fall day. The weather was warm, we played in the leaves, drove through small towns, ate french fries, went for a hike, and generally wore ourselves out.

We dropped off my friend and rolled back into Portland just as the sun was fading. Setting sun, slow traffic, children's music on the radio, and The Daddy Life experienced something he hasn't felt in a long while.

I was tired.

We got home, fed the Jeep, read some books, and he went to bed an hour early.

At this point I had a brilliant and startling realization. Being a Dad, living "the daddy life," and generally fulfilling the needs, wants, and dreams of my 1 year old son - this is an exhausing job. This day we had together, this fall adventure was everything I could have hoped for. I was my best daddy self, and my boy was happier for having shared the day with me.

We had a grand and successful adventure, and I welcome years more of them. Maybe I just never realized how easy my own dad made it look! But Damn! My full time job is a lot of WORK.