We recently had a baby. Great News!
During the first week, our daughter, our youngest, stayed home from school sick with a fever. She enjoyed being around the baby, touching him, kissing him, smiling at him and even singing to him. Yet people kept asking, "How is your daughter taking to the baby and not being the youngest anymore."
'Just great,' I said often. It was the truth, and the transition to bringing a baby into our family and now having four kids seemed to be going smoothly. My daughter got well and went back to school, who had written off her absence due to the birth of her baby brother.
Throwing Up
Then a few weeks later, she came into our baby early in the morning. I was so tired from having gotten up every two hours for feeding that I didn't even notice her, until I rolled over in the morning and saw her lying there. I fell back asleep. In my dream I was startled awake by the sound of retching.
I turned over and opened my eyes to find my daughter, coughing and ready to throw up. She turned over and vomited a bit on the blankets and sheets, and I grabbed her and took her to the bathroom to finish.
My wife and I cleaned up, and were left scratching our heads wondering about this out of the ordinary event with our daughter.
What's that Smell?
One night I went in to check on my daughter. Her room was filled with a revolting smell. I told my wife. "Oh she probably just farted."
Then a short while later, my daughter, S. got up and came into our room. She complained that she thought she dirtied her pants. My wife checked and she found that S. had pooped in her pants at night, really bad.
Release the Wrath
A week later, we let S. stay home from school, after she claimed to have a sore throat. After the boys get off school and she is the only one at one besides the baby, she wanted to play and watch shows on the computer. This was unacceptable. Either she was sick and needed to be bedridden or she should be in school.
She tore into a tantrum, getting angry and yelling "All you do is take care of the baby. You don't care about me. I just want to kill that baby!"
We kept her home from school and made sure to give her lots of attention.
Later in the day she turned to us and said, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to be with you." She gave the baby a kiss.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Keep it Dry
Took the kids to a movie (Smurfs 2). Went smoothly, then I took them to get a bit to eat in the mall after. They all wanted McDonalds (it's Kosher in Raaanana). At ordering, I got confused, and the kids all said they wanted the Happy Meals (instead of just an individual sandwich and sharing a large fries).
Barely balancing two trays of Happy Meals and drinks, I navigated past the other parents and got to the table. I took each chicken burger out and gave it to the kids.
D. unwrapped his and lifted up the bun.
"Lettuce!" he declared, and started scraping the lettuce off.
"Uh Dad," said H. "this has lettuce...and ketchup!"
I looked at him, feeling as though a key support pillar in a building had collapsed. "Well could you just eat it this time?"
"Nope," he said, shaking his head side to side.
I examined the chicken burger, and the ketchup had been spread in good and deep so that I couldn't just scrape it off.
H. was looking up at me with those hungry eyes. I felt like more support pillars were falling and any moment that whole building would collapse. I took a deep breath.
"Ok, come with me," I said, "what do you get with Mom?"
"Mommy always orders it saying to Keep it Dry."
"Keep it dry?" I asked, "ok, no problem." (I can do this!)
We went back up to the counter. I ordered just the sandwich and told them to 'keep it dry'.
H. stood there and waited for them to serve him. I went back to our table and sat with the other kids to make sure they would finish eating.
H. came back over with his chicken burger sandwich with absolutely nothing on it, and sat down to eat.
Note to self: check with kids about condiments that may be put on sandwiches and burgers and confirm that each gets his sandwich the way they like it.
Until the next vacation.
Barely balancing two trays of Happy Meals and drinks, I navigated past the other parents and got to the table. I took each chicken burger out and gave it to the kids.
D. unwrapped his and lifted up the bun.
"Lettuce!" he declared, and started scraping the lettuce off.
"Uh Dad," said H. "this has lettuce...and ketchup!"
I looked at him, feeling as though a key support pillar in a building had collapsed. "Well could you just eat it this time?"
"Nope," he said, shaking his head side to side.
I examined the chicken burger, and the ketchup had been spread in good and deep so that I couldn't just scrape it off.
H. was looking up at me with those hungry eyes. I felt like more support pillars were falling and any moment that whole building would collapse. I took a deep breath.
"Ok, come with me," I said, "what do you get with Mom?"
"Mommy always orders it saying to Keep it Dry."
"Keep it dry?" I asked, "ok, no problem." (I can do this!)
We went back up to the counter. I ordered just the sandwich and told them to 'keep it dry'.
H. stood there and waited for them to serve him. I went back to our table and sat with the other kids to make sure they would finish eating.
H. came back over with his chicken burger sandwich with absolutely nothing on it, and sat down to eat.
Note to self: check with kids about condiments that may be put on sandwiches and burgers and confirm that each gets his sandwich the way they like it.
Until the next vacation.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Setting Boundaries
"Just 5 more minutes," my 10 year old son, H. said, "please can I stay and watch just 5 more minutes."
"No, I'm sorry," I said, "we're leaving now."
It was late on Saturday night, after 9:30 at night.
"Oh come on," my mother in law said, "let him just watch 5 more minutes of television."
I looked at her and gave her a stern look. "No, he doesn't know what 5 more minutes is, as far as he is concerned he would like to stay and watch television for another hour."
"But I just wanted him to leave happy," my mother in law said.
H. had stayed at his grandparents for the weekend. He packed up his stuff and we went home. After getting in the car, he had already forgotten about his request to stay another 5 minutes.
I asked my wife about the divergent approaches between the generations.
"Look when I grew up, we were free. We stayed up as late as we wanted to watch television and ate what we wanted. Now it's different. There are so many more enticements to lure our children, there is no end. I knew that after Dynasty that was it, no more shows and I went to sleep. Now it's shows on cable, the internet, YouTube - it's overwhelming."
"So it was Ok that I told your mother that we had to go?"
"Yes, it's just different points of view. Different generations."
The enticements that tempt are children are all around. Either they want to get on the computer, or have the tablet computer, or get in the car and go somewhere and be on the iPhone. There are no natural boundaries of television schedules or reception to confine these devices to a certain space and time. We, the parents, need to be especially vigilant in maintaining boundaries so as to not overwhelm our children by all the attractions and entertainment of the world.
"No, I'm sorry," I said, "we're leaving now."
It was late on Saturday night, after 9:30 at night.
"Oh come on," my mother in law said, "let him just watch 5 more minutes of television."
I looked at her and gave her a stern look. "No, he doesn't know what 5 more minutes is, as far as he is concerned he would like to stay and watch television for another hour."
"But I just wanted him to leave happy," my mother in law said.
H. had stayed at his grandparents for the weekend. He packed up his stuff and we went home. After getting in the car, he had already forgotten about his request to stay another 5 minutes.
I asked my wife about the divergent approaches between the generations.
"Look when I grew up, we were free. We stayed up as late as we wanted to watch television and ate what we wanted. Now it's different. There are so many more enticements to lure our children, there is no end. I knew that after Dynasty that was it, no more shows and I went to sleep. Now it's shows on cable, the internet, YouTube - it's overwhelming."
"So it was Ok that I told your mother that we had to go?"
"Yes, it's just different points of view. Different generations."
The enticements that tempt are children are all around. Either they want to get on the computer, or have the tablet computer, or get in the car and go somewhere and be on the iPhone. There are no natural boundaries of television schedules or reception to confine these devices to a certain space and time. We, the parents, need to be especially vigilant in maintaining boundaries so as to not overwhelm our children by all the attractions and entertainment of the world.
Brilliant Insight from an 8 Year Old
I was helping the kids get ready. My 8 year old, D. was up first and wanted to brush his teeth. I went into the bathroom and looked at the boys' toothbrushes - they were exactly the same!
I went back to D. with the toothbrushes, "Hey which one is yours?"
He rolled his eyes and looked at me, "Just put the toothpaste on both brushes, then I will pick mine."
"Oh!" I thought, "yeah, that could work too."
Why had I mad a task unnecessarily complicated, trying to cater to him? I could just do the simple thing, and rely on him to work out what to do.
D. went ahead and brushed his teeth.
I went back to D. with the toothbrushes, "Hey which one is yours?"
He rolled his eyes and looked at me, "Just put the toothpaste on both brushes, then I will pick mine."
"Oh!" I thought, "yeah, that could work too."
Why had I mad a task unnecessarily complicated, trying to cater to him? I could just do the simple thing, and rely on him to work out what to do.
D. went ahead and brushed his teeth.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Post on Me Myself and Kids Blog
My guest blog has published on the Me, Myself and Kids blog. This great blog is published by Larry Bernstein, a high school English teacher from New Jersey who is a writer and blogger, sharing his experiences, insights and philosophy on his popular blog.
I came across Larry's blog through a mutual friend, and was impressed the frequency, volume and quality of his articles. His blog is part of a well developed network of bloggers sharing life experiences, parenting advice and overall expounding on personal ideas. After starting to follow his blog, I was inspired by what he shared, pushing me to create this blog and to start sharing my family life experiences.
My post can be found at: Don’t Cry Over Spilled Soy Sauce: A tip for getting through the dating jungle
His blog is also updated on his Facebook page.
I came across Larry's blog through a mutual friend, and was impressed the frequency, volume and quality of his articles. His blog is part of a well developed network of bloggers sharing life experiences, parenting advice and overall expounding on personal ideas. After starting to follow his blog, I was inspired by what he shared, pushing me to create this blog and to start sharing my family life experiences.
My post can be found at: Don’t Cry Over Spilled Soy Sauce: A tip for getting through the dating jungle
His blog is also updated on his Facebook page.
The Magic Box
Do you have a magic box? Have you always contemplated having a magic box that you can dip into and find all kinds of surprises?
Recently my oldest son H.P. wrote a short piece in his English class, called The Magic Box. I liked how he empowered his boundless imagination and threw all kinds of objects and images into this short piece.
I posted it over here in My Write blog, a blog about writing.
Recently my oldest son H.P. wrote a short piece in his English class, called The Magic Box. I liked how he empowered his boundless imagination and threw all kinds of objects and images into this short piece.
I posted it over here in My Write blog, a blog about writing.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Camp Justice
I opened the door in the morning and saw the boys wrestling with each other on the sofa. They were locked in a bitter fight.
"Give me my shirt!" H., the older one, said.
"No!" cried D. defiantly.
I came over and pulled them apart, asking what is going on.
"He took my shirt for camp and hid it," H. said.
"Is this true?" I asked.
"Yes," said D. satisfied with himself.
"Well can you give him his shirt so we can all get ready and go to day camp?"
"No," said D. "it's his shirt, he should find it."
"What?!" I said.
"Yes, he should find his own shirt."
I looked at my older son, who had no idea where his shirt had been hidden, and we were all rushed to get ready and be off to camp.
A Gentle Confrontation
I told my older son to get ready, put on his shoes, brush his teeth and to wait for me. Then I approached D.
"Can you please tell me where you put his shirt?"
"No, he should find it."
"Why are you doing this?"
He just shrugged his shoulders and curled his lip, crossing his arms.
"Well then, if you don't want to share with us where the shirt is, then you can stay home today from camp."
D. seemed to bubble up into a heated rage, taking cushions from the sofa and throwing them in all directions. He threw himself on the sofa, screaming in anger and frustration. I took a few steps back.
My wife tried to ask him too, what was going on. She also suggested he would miss a fun day at camp. His rage grew worse, and my wife retreated to her room.
I picked up my laptop bag as though I was going to work, taking my older son. Finally, D. went into our bedroom and confided in my wife.
Justice
Trying to reason with D. she explained that she knew he was a good boy, but some demon had crawled inside him in the morning sent him in the wrong direction. She implored him to try to go with the flow in the morning, and not get into needless fights. She explained that she was baffled for what would motivate him to take his brother's camp shirt and hide it, something that he absolutely needed for his camp day. Then, moreso, insisting that his brother should find his own shirt.
"Well yesterday after camp," D. said, as tears started to flow, "I waited outside at the bus stop like I was supposed to. I looked for H. everywhere, but he wasn't there to wait with me."
"His group went to the playground yesterday, and I picked him up from there."
"Well it wasn't fair that I waited by myself, so I punished him and hid his shirt."
Wiping his face, he went and found the camp shirt. H. put it on and we went off to camp.
"Give me my shirt!" H., the older one, said.
"No!" cried D. defiantly.
I came over and pulled them apart, asking what is going on.
"He took my shirt for camp and hid it," H. said.
"Is this true?" I asked.
"Yes," said D. satisfied with himself.
"Well can you give him his shirt so we can all get ready and go to day camp?"
"No," said D. "it's his shirt, he should find it."
"What?!" I said.
"Yes, he should find his own shirt."
I looked at my older son, who had no idea where his shirt had been hidden, and we were all rushed to get ready and be off to camp.
A Gentle Confrontation
I told my older son to get ready, put on his shoes, brush his teeth and to wait for me. Then I approached D.
"Can you please tell me where you put his shirt?"
"No, he should find it."
"Why are you doing this?"
He just shrugged his shoulders and curled his lip, crossing his arms.
"Well then, if you don't want to share with us where the shirt is, then you can stay home today from camp."
D. seemed to bubble up into a heated rage, taking cushions from the sofa and throwing them in all directions. He threw himself on the sofa, screaming in anger and frustration. I took a few steps back.
My wife tried to ask him too, what was going on. She also suggested he would miss a fun day at camp. His rage grew worse, and my wife retreated to her room.
I picked up my laptop bag as though I was going to work, taking my older son. Finally, D. went into our bedroom and confided in my wife.
Justice
Trying to reason with D. she explained that she knew he was a good boy, but some demon had crawled inside him in the morning sent him in the wrong direction. She implored him to try to go with the flow in the morning, and not get into needless fights. She explained that she was baffled for what would motivate him to take his brother's camp shirt and hide it, something that he absolutely needed for his camp day. Then, moreso, insisting that his brother should find his own shirt.
"Well yesterday after camp," D. said, as tears started to flow, "I waited outside at the bus stop like I was supposed to. I looked for H. everywhere, but he wasn't there to wait with me."
"His group went to the playground yesterday, and I picked him up from there."
"Well it wasn't fair that I waited by myself, so I punished him and hid his shirt."
Wiping his face, he went and found the camp shirt. H. put it on and we went off to camp.
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