Showing posts with label father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label father. Show all posts

Saturday, 9 December 2017

Daddy-style Fairy Tales: Little Peter's Christmas Miracle




My kids are 10 and 12 and love to hear my fairy tales which I tell while tucking them into bed. Ok, "love to hear" may be less accurate than "willing to endure," but I'm not one to split hairs. If I interrupted their play-filled day to tell them the same story, they'd no doubt consider it child abuse. But, at bedtime, they'd listen to me recite my tax returns if it bought them an extra ten minutes with the lights on. As they say, "timing is everything."

     Still, I enjoy watching their little faces while I'm reading. They're so cute when they grimace and roll their eyes, and I challenge myself to see how many times I can make them groan.

     After hearing this one, my son groaned (yes!) and commented, "Well, that was a huge waste of valuable sleeping time," but his face flickered with a smile he fought to contain.

     Huzzah!

     If you have little children who enjoy rolling their eyes and groaning, or who, perhaps, are willing to do so in exchange for an extra ten minutes at bedtime, then sit them down and recount this short tale of Christmas magic...




Little Peter's Christmas Miracle 

      Once upon a time, in a land far from those who lived close by, a very old man lived all alone in a cottage in the forest, at the edge of a small village. He had never married and had no children and was known to be sad and lonely. He was also crotchedy—probably because he was sad and lonely, but, perhaps, because of anal fissures. No one could be sure.

     Every day, he would venture out from his little house and slowly, very slowly, make his way into town to buy groceries, after which he would trundle, slowly, very slowly, to the park and sit on a bench and feed the birds while listening to the children frolicking, close by.

     Peter was the littlest of all the boys his age, but he had the biggest heart and also anime eyes, which were really cute, but totally distracting. These are the kind of congenital mishaps that occur, sometimes, in small villages, if cousins marry. Little Peter noticed the old man and came to sit beside him on the park bench.

     "My name's Peter," he said, which was not obvious, yet very true, and a perfectly good way to introduce yourself, if your name happens to be Peter.

     The old man did not look at little Peter, or acknowledge him in any way, except to say, "Too much information. What do you want?"

     "I just want everyone in the who-o-ole world to feel love and to be happy," replied little Peter, flashing a Cheshire smile and his anime eyes, which, of all of his features were two of the safest ones to flash.

     The old man took no notice, which surprised little Peter because everyone was always impressed by this anime eyes—especially when he added his Cheshire smile.

     In his most crotchety voice, the old man began, "Kid, I just want to feed the birds..."

     "That's really nice!" interrupted Peter, enthusiastically.

     "... to my cat!" finished the old man. And with that, he suddenly grabbed one of the little birds by its throat and shoved it into a small cloth bag. For someone who was slow, very slow, on his feet, he was fast, very fast, with his hands.

     "Ohhh!" exclaimed little Peter.

     The old man tied closed the rustling, squeaking bag, crotchety-pleased to have shocked little Peter.

     "You can't do that!" exclaimed Peter.

     "Ha! I just did."

     "But that's a Christmas Dove and it's only three days until Christmas!"

     "Sounds delicious!" grunted the old man, rising from the bench.

     "Wait 'til Santa finds out!" warned little Peter.

     The man hesitated. "You believe in Santa?"

     "Of course!" said little Peter.

     "Well, I'm really old and I've never seen him! Christmas means nothing to me."

     Little Peter was shocked that someone would ever say such a thing and his hands flew to his mouth, his grin collapsing into the shape of a something circular. But then, at that very moment, his glistening anime eyes caught those of the old man and in them, he glimpsed a hundred years of hurt and disappointment. In his heart, he instantly felt the old man's pain and anguish. In his stomach, he felt a bit hungry; his butt was tingling slightly, as well, but such details were not relevant and so, never became part of this story.

     As the old man ambled away, slowly, very slowly, the small sack squealing and fluttering on his shoulder, Peter resolved to bring happiness to this sad figure by creating a true Christmas miracle!

     It took him two days to set his plan in motion.

     The van rental had been especially tricky as he could barely reach the pedals and didn't know how to drive. But Peter had flashed his Cheshire grin and anime eyes and explained to the rental agent that he was on a mission to perform a Christmas miracle, and the rental agent had suddenly smiled, ear to ear—but, more importantly, turned his back to put away the rental forms. And that's when Peter grabbed the keys and bolted for the van. Making good use of the bumper, he managed to escape the parking lot and drive across town to meet up with the other boys his age whose help he had enlisted. And no one was injured or killed, so his plan was really beginning to look like a Christmas miracle.

     It was now late on Christmas Eve and, under cover of darkness, he and the other boys his age made their way down the tiny road that led to the old man's cottage, backed the van to his doorstep and rang the bell. The old man was slow to be rousted but, finally, he opened the door and came face to face with little Peter, Cheshire grin and anime eyes set all aglow, by the light of his tiki torch.

     "What's going on? What do you want?" shouted the old man.

     Peter giggled with a maniacal variety of glee, and pronounced, "It's going to be a Christmas miracle!" whereupon he snapped his fingers and two of the other boys shoved a burlap sack over the old man's head, pushed him into the back of the van, and drove off to Santa's village where they knocked on Santa's door. (For this small town was very near the North Pole and everything in it was made of ice and covered in snow. Did I not mention that? Oh. Well, it was. That's why Peter's butt had been tingling from frostbite while he sat on the park ice-bench. Also, the rental van was a ski-do-type van.)

     Santa came to the door wearing only underpants and a sock. Another sock was in his hand and he looked flustered; obviously in a rush. Santa was hairy and he was very old, so all the hair on his body was white. Coincidentally, his underwear was also white fur so that it looked like he was naked and especially hairy, down there. Everyone except the old man thought that it was gross. "Good heavens, boys. Don't you know it's Christmas Eve? I don't have time for—did you kidnap an old man?"

     "Well, technically, old-man-napped... and, old men nap all the time, so..." Little Peter flashed his Cheshire smile and anime eyes and Santa's heart melted so it was a good thing he wasn't Frosty the Snowman.

     "Ho, ho, ho. What can I do for you, little Peter?"

     "I brought someone who needs to meet you," replied little Peter, pulling the sack off the old man's head. The old man stood there in the soft glow of the porch light, face to face with Santa.

     "You!" Santa exclaimed.

     "Who else would I be, Santa?" replied the old man.

     Little Peter was now more confused than usual. "Wait a minute! I thought you didn't believe in Santa."

     "Get me a cane!" demanded the old man.

     Little Peter thought it very rude demanding candy from Santa, especially on Christmas Eve. "Oh no you di—in't..." he muttered, and he and the other boys his age began to giggle nervously, anxious to see how Santa would punish the old man for his insolence.

     But Santa remained quiet and still, and the old man turned to little Peter. "I never said I don't believe in Santa, you idiot! I said I've never seen him."

     "Well now you have!" said little Peter, beaming proudly. "All because of my Christmas miracle!"

     "I'm blind, moron. Where's my cane?"

     I may have forgotten to mention that he tapped his way to town, using a white cane. This was one reason that he had to walk slowly, very slowly.

     "Oh," said Little Peter.

     "And where's my oxygen tank?"

     "You want an oxygen tank for Christmas?" asked little Peter, even more bewildered than usual because, although little Peter had a big heart, he had a small mind; so small that he wouldn't have known a Snow Dove from a common Brown Bat and could only think slowly, very slowly.

     "No, you knucklehead, the great big oxygen tank that I have to lug around everywhere I go."

     Oh yeah, that was another reason that he had to walk slowly, very slowly; because he had a heart condition and had to carry a huge tank of oxygen with him, everywhere he went.

     "Oh," said little Peter who finally seemed to come up to speed and who, incidentally, was 25 years old, like all the other boys his age.

     The old blind man turned, mistakenly facing no one, and said, "As long as I'm here, Santa, let's talk about that Rubic's Cube you put in my stocking last Christmas..."


Epilogue:
     Santa later testified in court, and little Peter and the other boys his age were sentenced to prison on charges of kidnapping and grand theft, auto. But it was an ice-prison and they managed to escape during a heated argument.

     The old man was actually a great magician—this is why he was fast, very fast, with his hands. He had once been very powerful and had, in fact, given Santa his magical powers, way back when he, Santa, and the world were young. More recently he made helium balloon animals and sold them online, shipping them in little boxes that tended to float and saved money on delivery charges.

     After this incident, the old blind man slowly, very slowly, returned to his daily routine of tapping his way into town, lugging his oxygen tank, sitting in the park, trapping birds for his cat, alone in the knowledge that he was sad and lonely because he didn't actually have a cat. The truth was that lately, every time he'd made it to the grocery store, it was closed, so he had been forced to come to the park and trap birds to eat at home. What he didn't realize was that his Braille watch was running slow and he was now always going to town at night, after store hours, when the only ones in the park were gangs of losers partying and smoking cigarettes, like Peter.

Also, the birds tasted a lot like common Brown Bats.


CHRISTMAS BONUS! 
Alternate Endings:
     After this incident, the old blind man slowly, very slowly, returned to his daily routine of tapping his way into town, lugging his oxygen tank, sitting in the park, trapping birds for his cat, alone in the knowledge that he was sad and lonely because...

(A) ...his cat never ate any of the birds he brought home for it. Only the cat knew that he was actually a rabbit. Also, it was made out of a balloon.

(B) ...he had never married because he got tired of the blind dating scene.

(C) ...he was German and afraid people would call him a not-see.

(D) ...he never enjoyed jokes because he couldn't see the humour in them.

(E) ...he never married. He'd once had a girlfriend, but after she broke up with him, he just couldn't make himself start seeing other people.

(F) ...he was racist and constantly worried that he might be black.





EXTRA CHRISTMAS BONUS...

30 sec. CHRISTMAS BONUS VIDEO...
One basic difference between my 2 kids...



____________________________
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Wednesday, 11 January 2017

Dad's IT Guy



In every life, there comes a point where a new technology overwhelms you. That is the point where you officially become "old."

A lot of people instantly got old when they couldn't figure out how to get rid of the flashing 12:00 on their VCR's. More were thrust into old age when phones became so advanced that their least impressive feature was phoning. For me, it might be when everyone lives in empty white cubicles with fully augmented reality and I refuse to give up my flesh and blood wife, or my plastic lava lamp—depends on the day. It'll definitely happen if people begin getting USB ports sewn into their necks. I'm pretty happy with the orifices I have, thank you.

"Old" happens when change comes too fast and goes too far.

My father became "old" at 70, when he got his first computer.

It's not a matter of intelligence.

At 78, he walked into a party where 50 guests, including myself, had spent the better part of an hour puzzling over a picture-word puzzle, took one glance, said "The answer's 'Tumbler,'" as if it were no more of a challenge than picking Ronald McDonald out of a lineup of Mallard ducks, grabbed a beer and sat down seemingly preoccupied with keeping his drink from foaming over.

Beyond his family, he truly loves only three things: TV, sports and gambling. He's now 80, but as physically fit as a 60-year-old with a mind agile enough to regularly conquer Sudoku and Crosswords. He golfs at least twice a week and plays floor hockey against 40-year-olds. He's a good enough poker player to amass small fortunes in online credits without spending a dime and regularly places near the top in worldwide tournaments. Perversely, when he goes to Vegas, he plays the slots and Keno, games that require the least skill and offer the worst odds. He only seems interested in beating odds that are overwhelmingly stacked against him. This may explain fifty-plus years of marriage to my mother.

He's brilliant when he's motivated but, to my mother's frustration, has spent the better part of his life unmotivated except by sports and gambling. He is gregarious and very popular, but largely unconcerned by what others think and is unapologetic if his frank assessments or opinions make others around him miserable. He is also not much concerned whether his assessments and opinions happen to be accurate. I think he sees them more as social experiments than social comments.

As he's aged, he's adopted the outward demeanour of a crusty old curmudgeon but has always remained active, astute, and one of the most deeply satisfied people I know.

He is also one of the most frustrating people to do a favour for.

I once cleaned his gutters which were clogged to the point where it was less like whisking dust from a trough than digging up a well-established garden bed and had to listen to him grumble the entire time about the dirt falling into his garden. Until then, I'd always thought a garden an appropriate place for dirt.

My parents have a huge hedge in their back yard and once every few years all us siblings get together and trim it, which requires scaffolding and specialized trimming tools. Each time we do this, he spends the day whining about possible damage to his lawn, trimming too much foliage and leaving a huge mess, though none of these things has ever occurred.

Of course, my siblings and I all feel that we owe our parents a huge debt for all the things they have done to help us through life. And, to his credit, in the end, Dad always makes it clear that he is genuinely thankful for our help. But things go so much smoother if he's busy golfing.

Other than socializing, TV, sports and gambling my father feels that most other activities are an unnecessary burden, so if he has to do something like house repairs or maintenance he aims for hair's-width perfection in the vain hope that, if done right, he will only have to do it once in his lifetime. He applies this philosophy indiscriminately which is why whenever he mows the lawn he does it in different directions, thrice over. He's hoping that this job, well done, need only be done once a year. Both my mother and the grass refuse to accede to his logic.

About twenty-five years ago when my brother-in-law was new to the family but safely past the line for an annulment, I volunteered him to work with Dad at one end of a new fence-line while my brother and I worked together at the other. Our part went very smoothly and after a few hours we had installed about eighty percent of the new fence and came upon my Dad and brother-in-law still working on their third post. Dad was bent over the hole which was, apparently, not yet deep or straight enough. He had an old hammer and chisel and was bashing away at solid rock, three feet beneath the surface. My brother-in-law stood holding the 8-foot fence post, gazing aimlessly skyward, frustrated by the knowledge that they would now have to fill beneath the post so that it would not be too short for the six-foot panels. When he saw us, he did not smile... for many years.

Who is going to be my father's IT guy has been a hot potato since that same brother-in-law made the mistake of giving my father his first computer, many years ago. It was a PC and, at the time, I was never more happy to be a "Mac Guy." Since then, my brother-in-law has continued to donate his business's older PC's to my father. But this year, there were no PC's in the system when my Dad's suddenly died—probably suicide. However, my little consulting business had an Apple iMac that it no longer needed. And that's how I became my father's IT guy. It's nice to see my brother-in-law smile again, but bittersweet.

GUI (graphical user interface) concepts like desktop, file folders and files are useless analogies for my father. If you ever saw his actual desk's top, you'd quickly understand why. As in real life, he files everything on the desktop. If a file accidentally ends up inside a file folder, he considers it irretrievably lost. An assessment that is not without merit.

The inevitable phone-line support calls are difficult because, regardless of his crossword prowess, his descriptive ability is severely limited, proving that I get my writer's mind entirely from my mother's side. To him, a monitor is a TV. The computer, its RAM memory, the hard disk memory, any tangle of wires in the vicinity and, often, the Internet are all just "the computer." Words like reboot, program, app and scrollbar have as much meaning to him as Gangsta Rap lyrics in Sanskrit. He dislikes anything that works differently from his first computer, so being able to run two programs at once is a fault, not a feature. Also, his first computer was a PC, so he hates Macs—more intensely, with every update. "It's just like Apple to waste resources on a stupid concept like multitasking."

This is the foundation upon which I am to build a functional IT relationship.



My first approach was to put aliases, buttons and links everywhere thinking that he could activate his favourite programs and websites in any of four ways. This was a mistake. A week later, when I checked in, he had stopped using the computer because it was too slow. There were fifty-seven tabs open on Chrome.

DAD: ...and then there's this cheap aluminium keyboard...

ME: Cheap? Compared to plastic?

DAD: ...it has too many keys.

ME: It's the alphabet, Dad. Same on all keyboards.

DAD: What's with these ef'n keys.

ME: That's "Fn" keys... they're function keys.

DAD: What do they do?

ME: That depends on what you are doing on the computer at the time.

DAD: I'm hitting the damn key, is what I'm doing. Useless. Take them off.

ME: Uh...


It's been tough slogging, but we've made some progress. Not in the IT department—we're no further ahead there—but we've established a routine that ensures the problem gets dealt with as quickly as possible.

DAD: Your crappy computer's busted again. I get some sort of message about errors.

ME: What's on the screen right now.

DAD: Lint.

ME: Is the computer on?

DAD: Yes.

ME: But no picture?

DAD: No. I shut it off.

ME: You shut off the picture? Does that mean the TV-part is off?

DAD: No. That's on. There's a yellow light.

ME: Turn on the computer.

DAD: What do you mean, turn it on. I've got a yellow light.

ME: No, that's just the TV-part. You need to press the button on the box-part. You'll know it's on when you see a blue light.

DAD: Ok. . . . There's a blue light.

ME: Great. What's on the screen.

DAD: Lint.

Silence.

ME: Is the blue light actually lit up, or are you just telling me that you finally spotted it? (Because this is not the first time.)

DAD: It's there. (In Dad-speak, this is adequate confirmation that it's not lit.)

ME: Did you press the "on" button?

DAD: I'm still pressing it.

ME: You've got to let go.

DAD: You never said that.

ME: How have you been turning it on for the past two months?

DAD: I never turned it off.

ME: Is it on now?

DAD: There's a box in the corner and all hell below that. The thing doesn't work anymore and when I press the other thing all I get is crap.

ME: What's that sound?

DAD: I'm trying to make it go.

ME: Is that the mouse clicking? Why is it clicking so much?

DAD: I'm clicking on everything to get it going.

ME: We should go slowly here.

DAD: Are you kidding? It's slow as molasses!

ME: How many windows are open now?

DAD: Windows, boxes, lines... There's junk everywhere.

ME: Is there an error message?

DAD: There was but I clicked it away.

ME: What did it say?

DAD: Something was an error.

ME: Yes, but what?

DAD: I don't know... something about "insufficient."

ME: Memory?

DAD: I don't know. Illegal, invalid, restricted... something, something, "wager not placed" something, something.

ME: Were you playing on an online Casino when it first came up?

DAD: What the hell else does a person do with a computer?

ME: Were you trying to make some sort of bet at the time?

DAD: I don't know. This box came up and I couldn't see the slots anymore. Your crappy computer broke the Internet. I want my old one back.

ME: Your old computer was barely compatible with electricity.

DAD: It worked better than this.

ME: I'll come over.

DAD: Great. Bring a trowel.

ME: Sorry? What?

DAD: One of those gutters you "supposedly" cleaned is clogged again.

ME: I did clean it, Dad. That was 3 years ago.

DAD: You should probably bring a ladder, too. And don't get dirt in my garden.

ME: See you in a few minutes.

DAD: There's a six-pack in the fridge.

At last! A foundation upon which I can build a functional IT relationship.

Cheers!


_______________________________

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Wednesday, 14 December 2016

My Top 10 Parenting Tips




   My kids are remarkably quiet, respectful, well behaved and smart. I started having kids late in life and I like to think that my maturity and wisdom had some impact, but they probably get all the good stuff from their mother's side of the family.

   Regardless, I have gathered all that I have learned as a parent and compressed it into this top-10 list. Yes, I know there are actually 45 things in the list, nevertheless, this is a top-10 list... with bonus material, because the internet is not interested in top-45 lists. Also, there are 46.


1/45 Advice Regarding Advice : Among the first things that come with the parenting experience is a strong set of opinions about parenting accompanied by a looming sense of guilt that you may be failing your child in some way. Children are cute and attract a lot of attention wherever they go, so to add to this self-inflicted pressure is the fact that all the eyes of society are upon you and judging you by your child's behaviour. So my very first advice to a parent is to resist shaming or criticising another parent. Their strong opinions will collide with yours and that sense of possible guilt will make them defensive and likely volatile. Unless they ask, never tell another parent how to raise their kids. And if they ask, be gentle. It's the hardest criticism to take and you may not know what you are talking about. Feel the overwhelming urge to share? Do what I do: write a blog that few read.

2/45 One thing to keep in mind that will help you sympathize with the parents of "wayward" children is that kids are born with natural dispositions firmly in place. Some of those built-in tendencies do not fit well into society and it can be a long and delicate task to redirect this innate behaviour without breaking the child's spirit.

3/45 Your children will act out, behave in bizarre ways or blurt inappropriate things in public. Try not to worry what others think because your kids can detect this and use your discomfort as a tool to get what they want. Remember: People who haven't raised children have no clue. People who have, are probably sympathetic. Those unwise enough to judge you, are not wise enough to competently advise you.



4/45 Yelling is ineffective. The one thing that kids crave above all else is your attention. And they don't discriminate between good and bad attention, the way an adult might. So when you yell at your kids for misbehaving, you may actually be rewarding their little reptile brains and encouraging their antics. For this reason, they are unlikely to stop jumping on the couch just because you yelled at them.

5/45 Actions speak louder than words. If their misbehaviour is physically interrupted, kids consider that a negative thing. Instead of yelling, get off your butt and stop them.

6/45 Follow through on your threats. This way, you'll be more careful about using threats and your children will learn to respect your authority. People who yell at their kids, but never physically enforce their threats have children who ignore them. And, they end up yelling a lot. You can't parent from a chair.

7/45  Similarly, follow through on your promises so that they become effective incentives, and also so that your kids learn to keep their promises, in the future.

8/45 Fight those early battles well: Parents are busy people and disciplining is often inconvenient. But, if you make a point of putting up with any inconvenience and addressing the issues early on, your kids will more quickly understand that they can not blackmail you with the inconvenience and you will endure far fewer interruptions, in the long run. Fail to do this and the smallest battles will rage on for years.



9/45 As long as your kids feel loved, safe and secure, the rest is much less important. The more love, safety and security you can provide, the less impact your parenting mistakes will have.

10/45
I'm not absolutely against spanking kids, but I have to mention that I've never had to do it in my eleven years as a parent. If they are well loved, then a well-deserved spanking will not psychologically scar them. However, as I believe they copy what we do, I can't really justify smacking a kid and then telling them not to smack others, or not to bully, because that's basically what a spanking is; conquering by force. The only times I've ever truly been tempted to smack my child was when he or she deliberately hurt my other child, or when they suddenly did something foolish and put themselves in harm's way. The reaction is instinctive, but I've managed to catch myself, just in time. I did, once, flick my son painfully on the shoulder when he recklessly endangered his little sister. It hurt his feelings more than his body, but I still feel guilty about this because of the look of betrayal he gave me.

11/45 Be fair in your punishments: If you punish too often, or are too heavy handed, you will be less effective. Especially in the heat of the moment, refrain from overreacting. I am slow to mete out punishment, usually starting with warnings, escalating to punishments if the behaviour persists.
Early on, I had a theory that consequence would be a much better teacher than punishment. For example, if they broke a toy, then that toy would not be available to them and would not be replaced and I hoped this would teach them to care for their possessions. At first, it seemed to work. I could sit with a 4-year-old and explain things like "if you don't go to sleep at bedtime, you will be tired the next day and might even get sick," and they seemed to get it and avoid the problem in the future.
   This idea worked really well until my kids were about eight. I guess that's when they realized that I was neither God nor Encylopedia Britannica and that the things I said might not be absolute truths. After that, they were not so easily persuaded by words and the idea of consequence. Instead, they began looking for ways to cheat the system. For instance, when my son got in the habit of chatting to his sister keeping her awake, long after bedtime. I am very reluctant to punish, so I talked to him a few times. He lowered his voice to a whisper but continued. Finally, I revoked all of his computer privileges. Then he finally understood that I was serious and that there were consequences that mattered to him. That problem vanished.

12/45 Fairness and expectation: Kids—especially below the age of six—don't see unfairness the way adults do because they only have the expectations that we give them. For instance, my kids are often not allowed the same sugary/salty snacks as most of the other kids they play with. When they were very young, we told them that it was because we wanted them to be healthy, and we demonstrated our resolve by leaving events the first couple of times they made a fuss. These days, my kids are usually the only ones not hovering around the chip bowl and pestering their parents for more. And they do not feel cheated at all. Further demonstrating the point is the fact that the other kids quickly accepted that "normal" was the William M. Dean-kids having only 3-4 potato chips while everyone else filled a bowl.

13/45 Don't expect to be fair, all the time. Just because you eat cake does not mean that they get a piece, too. That's not how life works and anyway, ultimately, everything balances out because every material thing you never got forced you to become a better person. My sister has a little saying that she uses to cut short the whining: "Life's not fair, don't compare."

14/45 Be stingy with rewards but generous with praise. Try to find something positive to say about anything your child is proud of but save high praise and rewards for when it's genuinely deserved. They will come to understand the difference and properly learn to evaluate their own efforts.

15/45 Lead by example: From what I've observed with friends and family, your daughter will tend to mimic her mother's behaviour and your son will mimic his father's. It's obvious to us that my son takes after my wife's family, in body and brain, and yet, he thinks and behaves more like me. The exact opposite is true of my daughter.

16/45 Kids copy–what you don't do, as well as what you do. I allow my kids to see stuff that includes foul language because trying to prevent exposure is impractical, but I do not swear. As a result, my kids know all the bad words and phrases, but they never use them.



17/45 Curse words: Don't worry about your kids hearing bad words. There is no way you can stop it and the lesson they really need to learn is not to repeat them. Bad words and most other taboos are completely arbitrary, but not respecting those taboos can affect your child's future, so they need to learn who those words will offend and what the social consequences are.

18/45 Sexual content: Don't worry about them being accidentally exposed to sexual images. Kids only "see" what they understand. If what they see generates questions, then they are old enough to hear the answers. However, be careful to only answer what they specifically ask. Answer clinically and don't take things further unless prodded by another question. You might be surprised at how many obvious questions they don't ask.

19/45 Violent media: Do worry about exposing them to violent media—especially movies. This scares kids and makes them feel unsafe. Also, so much of what the media serves is unrealistically frequent and sadistic, which can skew their world view.



20/45 Expectation, habit, comfort zones: One way to think about parenting is that you are instilling expectations, comfort zones and habits. An expectation might be "that you eat your vegetables because they are healthy." A good habit is something like brushing teeth. A comfort zone might be having a family reading time, just before bed. (Habits eventually become comfort zones, so the two are difficult—maybe impossible—to distinguish.)

21/45 No sugar before 5 years old: I read this somewhere and thought it might work, so we tried it with both our kids. They are now 9- and 11-years old and both like sweets, but are very picky. They won't eat crappy store-bought birthday cake and don't care at all that every other kid at the party is chowing down. They also do not overindulge in sweets and never hover when junk food is put out. We monitor it minimally, but it takes them almost the entire year to eat their Hallowe'en haul, and that's after they've given away everything they don't like. On the other hand, they must monitor me constantly to keep me away from their goodie bags because I'd lick sugar off a bee's bottom if I couldn't get it any other way.

22/45 Dental hygiene: Brush their teeth for them, at least twice a day, until they are 5 or 6 to make sure they develop the habit and learn how to do a good job. After that, they should brush after every meal and you will have to constantly check to make sure they are doing a good job. Electric toothbrushes have a built-in timer which makes it easier to set a standard. Beyond brushing, we make our kids floss while watching TV, using the little plastic dental floss sticks, often called kid- or line-flossers. When it's not convenient to brush after a meal, we give our kids sugarless gum. We choose the adult-oriented mint-flavoured ones because we don't want them to love it enough to develop a gum-chewing habit. We also restrict this to no more than once a day. Neither of my kids has ever had a cavity.



23/45 Be conservative how much dental work is performed on your children. The best medicine is to not get sick. Everything else is a compromise. Make sure that your kids brush well and floss regularly. Have regular checkups and cleanings. So many people have dental insurance through their jobs that it has become increasingly common that children have a lot of dental work done. Every filling they get will eventually weaken their teeth. When they are in their 40's and 50's, this will start to become a problem. I'm proof of that. I haven't had a cavity in more than 20 years and yet the teeth that were filled in my childhood are slowly crumbling apart around the fillings, and there is nothing I can do to prevent it.

24/45 Be stingy with medicine. The rule that we have been able to adhere to for the past 11 years is that our kids only get medicine if a sickness is preventing them from eating or sleeping. Only once, at Christmas, did we ever doses one of our kids to get him through an event, and only then because he was almost over the illness. On top of this, we make sure they get plenty of sleep.
   To fight fevers during the day, we've had good results from tepid baths. When their bodies are radiating heat, a tepid bath will feel uncomfortably cold, but we make them stay in at least 5 minutes and try to get them to fully immerse. If they can do 15 minutes, the relief lasts longer... a couple of hours, with our kids.
   We also give them homemade green tea popsicles which may help lower their fever, but certainly works as a distraction without introducing sugar, which I believe to be anti-medicine.



25/45 Children equate physical pain with emotional pain, or even just discomfort until they've gained enough experience to discriminate. At nine years old, my daughter is still unable to clearly distinguish many forms of discomfort from actual pain, which is sometimes panic-inducing for me, when trying to diagnose a sickness or injury.

26/45 Kids need their sleep. It's important for their general health, and doubly important if they are sick. I put sleep near the top of the health pyramid, second only to air. Kids who get lots of sleep don't get sick as often and recover more quickly.

27/45 Bedtimes should be strictly enforced, for the kids' good health, but also for the mental health of their parents. Every minute your children stay up past their bedtime eats into your recovery time. Tapped out adults can not provide their children with the best care.

28/45 When they are babies, don't tiptoe around the house while they nap. Make them bulletproof nappers. The first few times it might seem crazy, but babies will sleep when they are tired, regardless of the circumstances so that's the best time to train them to ignore their surroundings. If your children are well trained to sleep you can enjoy a few hours of normal adult time—have a heated discussion, entertain guests or watch a loud movie. Occasionally, my wife and I will turn on the light in their bedroom and have a short discussion, while watching them sleep.
   NOTE: This will only work when the kids need rest. My daughter always wanted naps, so she slept during the day. But, even as an infant, my son was simply never tired during the day and only slept at night. My daughter was the polar opposite, sleeping so much that I seriously considered seeking medical advice. I tried, but never found any way to change their natural sleeping patterns. 

29/45 Let the baby cry. My initial theory was that if I rushed in every time the baby cried, he would learn that everything is ok and that he doesn't need to cry. In retrospect, this was a foolish notion. In fact, he learned to cry whenever he was not otherwise occupied. It took months to retrain both of us.

30/45 Self-esteem is trust in oneself. Like all trust, it can not be gifted, but must be earned. Praise, alone, can not build self-esteem. Only real accomplishments are confidence/self-esteem builders. Encourage your kids to do stuff! This is especially important for girls because our society emphasizes beauty over personality and integrity while encouraging women to use their sexuality as social currency, all of which tends to undermine long-term self-esteem.



31/45 Let them be bored. It teaches them to think, imagine and how to cope with boredom. It also makes chores and reading more attractive. Admittedly, this is a tough one for parents to endure because children tend to wander around pestering the adults when they are bored. I heard one parent tell her children: "Go outside and do something. You'll feel better about yourself." And I thought it was very good advice because going outside is therapeutic and doing something—regardless how insignificant—contributes to self-esteem.

32/45 Hold your kids close whenever you can. Soon enough, they won't let you. Parenting is a never-ending process of letting go.

33/45 Spend time with them. One of the things they want more than anything else is time with their parents. You do not always have to come all the way down to their level or pay them full attention. My kids like playing in the yard while I'm gardening; happy to run and jump and come back to ask me questions or relate their observations about grass and bugs, every three or four seconds. It's not exactly adult time but I do get to dig up some weeds and, occasionally, complete an entire thought.
   For toddlers, a great summer idea I saw online was to give them a paint bucket of water and a paintbrush and have them paint the fence with water! Wish I'd thought of that one.



34/45 You can't pour tea from an empty cup. Take care of yourself and your spouse first. If you are completely drained, you will have nothing to offer your children. Also, a lot of parenting is about letting go. As your kids get older, they will want their independence. In their 20's they probably won't be around much. Your spouse is your only constant companion in life. Take care of that relationship, not only is it your life preserver, it is, ultimately, the cruise ship you want to get back to.

35/45 Don't let kids get between you and your spouse. Kids are natural manipulators. And they start surprisingly early. When she was about four, my daughter tried to leverage a divide between my wife and I during an argument by asking me a pointed question the answer to which would likely have rekindled the debate, had we not recognized the manipulation attempt. At that time, my daughter viewed her mother as "The Enforcer" and me as "Mr. Funtimes" and was hoping to secure an ally in her minor disagreements with my wife. We presented a united front, saying that we do not agree on the topic, but that we did not expect to agree on everything, which seemed to put her in her place.

36/45 Stay together as long as possible. A reason for splitting up that is commonly deemed acceptable is that your unhappiness will affect the kids by showing them a bad model of marriage. Generally, I don't agree. Kids are basically all about themselves. They are barely aware that you and your wife have a relationship, let alone that it may be a bad one. All they really care about is stability and security and having love heaped upon them. If they had a vote, they would tell you to stay together and be miserable. From what I've seen, even an amicable divorce is a psychological ordeal for children that should be avoided, if at all possible.

37/45 Lie to your kids: We all lie to our kids about things like the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny and Santa Claus not for their benefit, but for our own. We want to foster those too-cute moments of magical wonder and drink them in like ambrosia. Ok—but you're really not doing your kids any favours by convincing them that magic exists, not to mention confusing the "truth is always best" message. As soon as they become sceptical, don't invest a lot of energy into prolonging the lie. If they ask the question, it is completely ok to tell them the answer, provided they are old enough to keep a secret from other kids because if they tell other kids who aren't ready—or, more likely, whose parents are not ready—you will probably find yourself in a heap of social trouble. If your kids can't be trusted with such a secret, lie your butt off or prepare to face the social consequences.



38/45 Teach them that taking responsibility earns priviledge. All children should have chores. Start when they are very young, even though it will mean constant monitoring and reminding, because toddlers will accept work willingly. They have a built-in urge to grow up and no expectations, so they don't categorize tasks as "work" or "play." These chores should earn them trust, and privileges and lead to ever larger tasks. They also contribute to confidence and self-esteem.

39/45 Developmental Stages: It may drive you absolutely nuts, but while they are growing you will have to repeat the exact same things to them a million times until, magically, one day they seem to just suddenly "get it." It's not that they don't want to obey, it's that they can't.
   My wife and I exhausted ourselves enforcing things like "no running in the house," "no yelling in the house," toilet training and putting away the toys. I especially remember the running thing, when my son was about four. He was very smart and unusually obedient but when I asked him to stop running, he'd take about three walking steps and then break into a run again, apparently having completely forgotten the entire encounter. Then one day, he just didn't run in the house anymore. I eventually concluded that their brains were just not able to process the instruction until that one certain brain cell was born and then, suddenly, they could.
   I don't recall any such issues between six and ten years old, but now, at eleven, my son is suddenly overcome with energy which he constantly vents as piercing vocalizations. He seems completely unaware that he's even being loud, so getting him to quiet down is a continuous effort. My wife and I are anxiously awaiting the birth of that new brain cell.

40/45 My daughter is a bit messy, constantly leaving her things all over the house. To help her see how this is inconvenient for the rest of us, I started referring to her as my "roommate." The roommate analogy seems to help her understand that we are equally sharing the common spaces and that it's unfair for one person to monopolize that space. It also makes her think about the future when she might actually be a roommate. How to be a good roommate is a good concept to teach because if they have abrasive and indulgent habits at home, they may be difficult for others to live with which will affect every future relationship, from roommate to life-partner.

41/45 Once they are old enough to care, let them wear what they want as long as it does not impact anyone but themselves. Going out on a winter day without a jacket will not make them sick; only germs can do that. However, they should be taught to be prepared. Leaving home without appropriate attire may put someone else at an inconvenience if the child becomes uncomfortable, or there is an unexpected emergency situation.



42/45 Instead of phrasing a question as yes/no, presenting only acceptable options can avoid an unacceptable response. For instance, Instead of asking, "How much broccoli would you like?" try using "Would you like two pieces of broccoli or four?" Your child will feel like he/she has made a choice and will be more likely to willingly accept the outcome.

43/45 My sister's tip: At large gatherings, kids often get involved in petty squabbles which can lead to a near-constant line of disgruntled young ones complaining to the adults. When kids report on other kids, one effective filter is to say: "Is someone hurt? Is something broken? If not, then you are just tattling and we parents do not need to get involved."

44/45 The Attitude Dance: (Another of my sister's tips) Whenever my sister's kids persisted with a bad attitude, she and/or their siblings might call out "Attitude Dance!" at which point the offender had to dance while singing Patti LaBelle's New Attitude song until they snapped out of it. It's completely silly and slightly embarrassing, but it works so well that most of the homeschoolers in our circles now do it. I will say that this is something that is best started young. Once they reach the teenage years, it can still work, but you have to consider the embarrassment factor and use restraint in invoking it and, once invoked, you will need the support of all involved to make it stick. CAUTION: I would not recommend this for kids over 8 who attend school. A school contains a larger population than most homeschooled kids have to deal with, so schooled children can be much more exposed and affected by public opinion.

45/45 A friend of mine shared this trick for getting a fussy baby to accept a soother: if they spit it out, tap the end of it. They will instinctively clamp down and hold on to it, after that.



46/45 Another friend of mine makes her kids participate in the following conversation whenever they whine about a decision she's made that they deem unfair to kids...
MY FRIEND: "What do kids do?"
KID (rolling eyes): "What adults say."
MY FRIEND: "And, what do adults do?"
KID (resigned sigh): "Anything they want."
Oft-repeated phrases like this tend to cut short the whining.



   Of course, reading 46 or even 4600 parenting tips isn't going to make the job a breeze. I can only hope that you find some of these of such value that you name at least one of your children after me and mention me in your will. Anything beyond that may be asking too much.


*NOTE: This article is available as a series of illustrated flash cards
on Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/wmdean007/

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Thursday, 13 October 2016

A Short Speech for Dad's 80th

Rather than just filing away all the little scripts and speeches that I am forced to write so that my kids can participate in the year-end home schooler's Christmas pageant, friends can turn a year older and their kids can get married and/or graduate, 
I thought I'd start posting them, so that others can adapt them for their own needs. 
Feel free to take and reuse anything that works for you.


Here is the link to the video of this speech: https://youtu.be/Ht6UTryhod4


Life Hack: If you actually use 80 candles on a birthday cake...
the cake will bake during the song.

When my father turned 80, my little sister cajoled me into saying a few words, not because I am the oldest (I am) or the wisest (meh) but because I "like to call myself a writer." 

ME: What?! When I say "I'm calling myself a cab," you don't think I'm a taxi, do you? 

SISTER: You're wasting time.

ME: (sigh!) OK. When is the party?

SISTER: In two weeks.

ME: What?! I'm really busy right now...

SISTER: Doing what?

ME: ........Netflix.

SISTER: He's 80, so keep it short.


Here is that short speech:

It’s a rare man who achieves greatness in his own lifetime. But tonight is my father’s 80th birthday party and so I will talk, instead, of my Dad...

My father has always been gentle, kind, patient and understanding... with the cats. With the rest of us, not so much.

He was a firm-handed father: stern, silent, and we all feared him getting involved in anything because when he spoke his word was law and small incidents could incite large punishments: “You have to change the channels on the TV for a week!” or “Go wash the car!” or “Scratch - my - back!” — which was so unfair, because sometimes my brother really was looking at me! 

Upon occasion, my mother did use the old, “Wait until your father gets home!” and on those days, we’d all sit quietly for hours, soberly dreading the moment Dad returned from work. When he arrived, he'd take his time coming to our room, then he’d tower over us and say something very stern and then let us off with a warning. I was always mortally afraid that he would, but in all the years, he never once spanked us! Which I think is a remarkably progressive thing because at that time, most of my friends were regularly being walloped by their parents. I remember one time he took my brother and I to the coat closet to give us “the strap.” He made a show of taking off his belt and looked sternly at us for a long moment, then he crouched, smiled and whispered that he was going to play a joke on Mommy and that we should shout out whenever he slapped the coats with his belt. When we returned, fake-crying, to Mom, she was sobbing at the kitchen table. It was hilarious! 

He’s always been a straight-shooter and man of few words so I think it was tough for him whenever he felt that he had to soften a message to spare our feelings. I remember when I was about 12, we were driving home from one of my baseball games and he suddenly decided to give me a “pep” talk: “Not everyone can be a super star. A team needs guys on the bench, as well. It’s called balance.” Until he said it, I hadn’t realized I’d needed a pep talk. My baseball career was not a long one.

When it comes to what he believes is right, he is like a dog with a bone. He’s that one in the crowd who will stand up and say what everyone else is afraid to. And though he’s never really lectured me, I’ve seen him give accounting lessons to the teen-aged cashier at Red Lobster who thought a 10¢ error on the receipt was nothing to worry about. She was one of the most popular girls at my high school, so I was fortunate enough to get to hear, first hand, how much she appreciated that. I've seen him block traffic because the gas station he’d been going to for years would not accept that a half tank in his huge V-8 was like 3 fill-ups of those bean-can imports, and that he should get the free car wash. And, I know that he started and ended a bar fight in Cultus Lake because some guy insulted his father. Sorry Dad, but whenever people insult you, I let it go—but mostly because I would never hit my mother.

Dad was always the type who might go ballistic if you left a light on, but on the other hand usually faced typically stressful situations very calmly. I remember how patient he was while teaching me to drive. The first time he took me out, I think he waited almost six blocks before telling me I was on the wrong side of the road. 

Dad’s a simple man. He loves his family, his friends, his cats, golf, gambling, sports, and movies. I’m sure it’s occurred to him that a movie about family might have killed two birds with one stone and interfered less with his other interests, but he’s never shirked his obligations or complained. Except, maybe, to the cats.

He was a classic, upstanding Dad of the 50’s. He went to work, brought home the bacon, talked little, but always talked straight; but I think the single biggest thing was that he was always there when you needed him. It’s such a simple thing, but a lot of fathers overlook it. When I was growing up, during the 60’s and 70’s, I noticed that a lot of fathers were never there for their kids, and even as a teen I could see the negative effect this had on them. I realized I was lucky because I could rightly assume that if there was ever a problem, my father would be there to pull my ass out of the fire. Of course, rescue always came at a price. But Dad rarely lectured, or told me what I should have done. Mostly, he just repeatedly told me what I had done and how really, really stupid it was. Also, he shook his head a lot. 

But he had our backs: 100% guaranteed. We could afford to be bold. And so, we are.

Children learn a father’s role from their Dads. I truly believe that my brother and I are the fathers we are today, and my sisters married the fine, family-oriented men they married, because of my father. 

He has four children (Tracy, Lindy, Mike and me: Bill.) I am the oldest, and though I have accomplished little… I know that my siblings will eventually catch up. 

My father is not really “Dad” any more. He’s now “Grampy” to eleven grandchildren from ages 23 down to 8, all of whom enjoy “cat-like status” and, consequently, all think he’s pretty cool. My kids think he’s hilarious because he says things like, “you ain’t smart,” which they quote, endlessly. And they even think it’s funny every time he says, “What?!” So they tend to laugh a lot when we visit.

Our family seems to be a rarity: a happy one in which we are all sometimes claustrophobically, irritatingly, painfully close and yet we all still love and respect each other. Dad is undeniably the captain of this family ship and though the course he set may not have been a perfect one, the final destination can not be argued.

Happy birthday, Dad.
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