On Sunday morning, after dropping Julie for work at Meck (Mecklenburg Community Church), I took the kids to McDonalds to eat breakfast and play a little before we went to the 9am service at church. The plan was, Zack takes Zoe and Zane into the Play Place while I order the food. Mistake; mine.
One small problem, the Play Place was locked. Immediately a look of concern washes over Zach's face. See Zach is pretty easy going, as long as he know the plans well in advance. He does not do so well though, when the plans change at the last moment. I told him to stay calm, I would check with one of the workers. Turns out they had just forgotten to unlock the door that morning, no problem ... except she decided to take my order before unlocking the door. Mistake; hers. She definitely doesn't know my kids. By the time the words Large Coffee came out of my mouth, she was practically throwing the keys at one of her coworkers so that he could unlock the door. Why, you ask (if you are asking that, then you haven't met my kids either). Zoe and Zane had decided to form a tag team against the door, trying to force it open. They were both using all of their might to both push and pull the door open (2 year-olds aren't able to read the word push, so they cover their bases). The pushing though was accompanied by loud grunts, moans, maybe a scream or two and chants of the word "Open". I have to wonder if they really thought that they would open the door or if they knew the commotion would expedite the process.
Once inside, shoes were removed and Zach helped Zoe and Zane up the series of levels toward the slides. One problem. To get to the slides the children must pass through a tunnel made out of a cargo net material that is perched about 12ft. off of the ground. Zach flew across. Zane hesitated, but made his way over. Zoe ...well Zoe cried ... then she screamed. See, she was too scared to go across the net, but also too scared to go back down the platforms to the ground. She was paralyzed with fear, yelling for me out of a porthole window built into the side of a yellow tunnel. Luckily I had nothing else to do at the moment but to climb up a claustrophobic passageway to rescue my little princess. Oh wait ... I was trying to get the breakfast divvied out for the kids because at this point we had 15 minutes to eat, get shoes on, get in the car and make it back to church ... oh, and Zadie was screaming her head off.
But all turned out well, the girl was saved, the baby was soothed, the children were fed and we made it to church ... almost on time (but I think I read somewhere that we will be forgiven for that).
Church was good, the children had fun, I enjoyed the message and music. Now we were off to Target for some last minute Valentines Day shopping ... Mistake; mine.
To Be Continued...
Monday, February 15, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Musicals
I have never been a fan of musicals. I can bear musicals on stage, because I enjoy going to the theatre. But when it comes to movies, The Sound of Music, Grease, and Annie can move over and make way for Pulp Fiction, American Beauty and Wedding Crashers. My biggest argument against musicals is how unrealistic it for a group of people to break out into song on a whim. Then I had kids ...
Kids sing. They just love to sing. They can't help themselves. It is part of the infectious joyousness kids have in their hearts. I have three children that are able to speak and I can already see what sectors of the music industry they are destined for.
Zoe will be a christian folk signer. Put a guitar in her hands, she will sit down strum the strings and sing "Jesus, Jesus". She typically follows that by falling out on the floor and wriggling around. I believe we may have a pentecostal on our hands.
Zach will be a world class beat-boxer as long as two things happen, he practices a lot and his father does not lose his mind and ban the act of beat-boxing from the house.
Zane's talent has the most potential of all of the children because he has already perfected the genre. When I was in high school I went through a phase of listening to heavy/speed/death metal. You know the guys who listen to this stuff, long hair, tight jeans, doc martens, chains on their pockets. Thankfully I never looked the part, but I did partake in the music. If you have ever spent time with Zane, particularly when he might have been cranky, you know he would fit in well as a lead singer for any number of heavy metal bands that may still be around (I would name a few, but I think I might date myself, plus highlight my once questionable taste in music).
Music permeates our lives, in ways that we are not even aware of. Doing a quick Google search, I found countless studies on how music affects mood. Listening to a grunge song like Pearl Jams 'Jeremy' can invoke feelings of aggression and violence. Classical music, like Beethoven or Bach can calm and relax a person. An upbeat, fun song like Jason Mrazs' 'I'm Yours' can actually induce joy and happiness.
With or without us realizing it, our life has a soundtrack. We are exposed to music in the car, the mall, on tv, in movies, church, through ipods, itunes and the list goes on. Songs, like sites and smells can take you instantly to a time or place. To this day if I hear the song 'Molly' by Sponge, I am taken back to my '96 Honda, driving to work while in high school. 'In the arms of an Angel' by Sarah McLauchlan sends me back to Denton Apartments where Julie and I first met.
Music has power. We use it to mark events like weddings and funerals. We use music to set a mood for a situation be it a candle-lit dinner or a room full of hyper toddlers. We use it as background noise so not to feel alone.
In our house now, we do sometimes break out in spontaneous song. We do it as a family, we do it to have fun, we do it to show love.
So maybe, just maybe musicals are not that far fetched ...
Kids sing. They just love to sing. They can't help themselves. It is part of the infectious joyousness kids have in their hearts. I have three children that are able to speak and I can already see what sectors of the music industry they are destined for.
Zoe will be a christian folk signer. Put a guitar in her hands, she will sit down strum the strings and sing "Jesus, Jesus". She typically follows that by falling out on the floor and wriggling around. I believe we may have a pentecostal on our hands.
Zach will be a world class beat-boxer as long as two things happen, he practices a lot and his father does not lose his mind and ban the act of beat-boxing from the house.
Zane's talent has the most potential of all of the children because he has already perfected the genre. When I was in high school I went through a phase of listening to heavy/speed/death metal. You know the guys who listen to this stuff, long hair, tight jeans, doc martens, chains on their pockets. Thankfully I never looked the part, but I did partake in the music. If you have ever spent time with Zane, particularly when he might have been cranky, you know he would fit in well as a lead singer for any number of heavy metal bands that may still be around (I would name a few, but I think I might date myself, plus highlight my once questionable taste in music).
Music permeates our lives, in ways that we are not even aware of. Doing a quick Google search, I found countless studies on how music affects mood. Listening to a grunge song like Pearl Jams 'Jeremy' can invoke feelings of aggression and violence. Classical music, like Beethoven or Bach can calm and relax a person. An upbeat, fun song like Jason Mrazs' 'I'm Yours' can actually induce joy and happiness.
With or without us realizing it, our life has a soundtrack. We are exposed to music in the car, the mall, on tv, in movies, church, through ipods, itunes and the list goes on. Songs, like sites and smells can take you instantly to a time or place. To this day if I hear the song 'Molly' by Sponge, I am taken back to my '96 Honda, driving to work while in high school. 'In the arms of an Angel' by Sarah McLauchlan sends me back to Denton Apartments where Julie and I first met.
Music has power. We use it to mark events like weddings and funerals. We use music to set a mood for a situation be it a candle-lit dinner or a room full of hyper toddlers. We use it as background noise so not to feel alone.
In our house now, we do sometimes break out in spontaneous song. We do it as a family, we do it to have fun, we do it to show love.
So maybe, just maybe musicals are not that far fetched ...
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
All I can do is smile and hold back a tear...
"Dear Jesus. Thank You for making Zane my brother. And thank you for making him my best friend. Amen."
"Dear Jesus. Thank You for making Zoe my sister. And thank you for making her my best friend. Amen."
They spend half the day fighting over who knows what, with screaming, tears, pushing and hitting. But at the end of the day, after everyone had had their say, these two statements from the heart flow from the mouth of a seven year old.
I don't have the words to describe the feelings...Speechless.
Amen.
"Dear Jesus. Thank You for making Zoe my sister. And thank you for making her my best friend. Amen."
They spend half the day fighting over who knows what, with screaming, tears, pushing and hitting. But at the end of the day, after everyone had had their say, these two statements from the heart flow from the mouth of a seven year old.
I don't have the words to describe the feelings...Speechless.
Amen.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The human race has lost the ability to communicate outside the world of cliche. I am going to answer this once and for all (yes I realize that I am using the cliche of "once and for all" to express my point about over-used cliches), I DO HAVE MY HANDS FULL.
Why do people find it necessary to tell me I have my hands full when I am in public with my kids? What is their motivation? Do they think I am in over my head? If so my response should be "You know I really do have my hands full here, I really can't set the baby down and Zane has made a mess of his diaper. You will find everything you need in the diaper bag to change him."
Do they think I have too many kids? If so then I should respond "Yeah, my wife and I are really struggling. We were barely hanging on with the twins and then surprise, little Zadie. Do you know any nice families that have been looking to adopt?"
Do they think that I am a saint for giving their poor mother a chance to rest from the burdens of taking care of so many children. In that case my response should be "Yes I am a saint and I deserve your praise and adoration." Or, you know, something like that.
While these questions and others may be the motivation for their comment, I think we go through life having conversations of such little consequence, with so many people, that we learn to survive using a list of canned phrases that are time tested to fit into any situation. Julie and I have been noting this type of communication for years. When we were dating the question was, "when are you two going to get married?" After we were married it was, "when are you going to have kids?" After you have one child it becomes, "are you going to have another?" (it's odd, we don't get that question any more) And it keeps going like this, I assume until you die.
How's work? Staying busy? How's business? Sure is cold out there.
Now truth telling time, I use these all the time. I am an introvert (and evidently a hypocrite) by nature and I rely on phrases like these to get me through social interactions. I understand exactly why people rely on them so heavily. But I also believe it is a glaring example of nature vs. nurture. God made us to be in community with one another, to do "deep" with people, but we have made it our life's goal to exert our independence. Our decision to do it on our own, to not seek nor accept help has left us longing for real community. Commune is the root of both the word community and communication and it literally means a group living together. Since we no longer really live "together", the need for good, rich communication is less and less important.
I was reading recently from Thomas Paine's, "Common Sense", a short narrative about the role governments are formed. This is the first paragraph:
In order to gain a clear and just idea of the design and end of government, let us suppose a small number of persons settled in some sequestered part of the earth, unconnected with the rest, they will then represent the first peopling of any country, or of the world. In this state of natural liberty, society will be their first thought. A thousand motives will excite them thereto, the strength of one man is so unequal to his wants, and his mind so unfitted for perpetual solitude, that he is soon obliged to seek assistance and relief of another, who in his turn requires the same.
"Unfitted for perpetual solitude." God built us all with special talents. Those talents are supposed to work in harmony together to achieve more than we can imagine. We are meant to be in community, to have relationships, to know more than how someone spent their weekend or where they are going for lunch. Julie shared something with me that said we do not have the ability to have the thoughts and dreams that our grandparents generation were capable of because we do not possess the vocabulary to express them. It is the old, "If you don't use it you lose it" (I couldn't resist using another one).
How do we reverse the trend? How do we grow a new generation of great communicators that can break the cycle of cliche and start to rebuild a society of real communities.
Why do people find it necessary to tell me I have my hands full when I am in public with my kids? What is their motivation? Do they think I am in over my head? If so my response should be "You know I really do have my hands full here, I really can't set the baby down and Zane has made a mess of his diaper. You will find everything you need in the diaper bag to change him."
Do they think I have too many kids? If so then I should respond "Yeah, my wife and I are really struggling. We were barely hanging on with the twins and then surprise, little Zadie. Do you know any nice families that have been looking to adopt?"
Do they think that I am a saint for giving their poor mother a chance to rest from the burdens of taking care of so many children. In that case my response should be "Yes I am a saint and I deserve your praise and adoration." Or, you know, something like that.
While these questions and others may be the motivation for their comment, I think we go through life having conversations of such little consequence, with so many people, that we learn to survive using a list of canned phrases that are time tested to fit into any situation. Julie and I have been noting this type of communication for years. When we were dating the question was, "when are you two going to get married?" After we were married it was, "when are you going to have kids?" After you have one child it becomes, "are you going to have another?" (it's odd, we don't get that question any more) And it keeps going like this, I assume until you die.
How's work? Staying busy? How's business? Sure is cold out there.
Now truth telling time, I use these all the time. I am an introvert (and evidently a hypocrite) by nature and I rely on phrases like these to get me through social interactions. I understand exactly why people rely on them so heavily. But I also believe it is a glaring example of nature vs. nurture. God made us to be in community with one another, to do "deep" with people, but we have made it our life's goal to exert our independence. Our decision to do it on our own, to not seek nor accept help has left us longing for real community. Commune is the root of both the word community and communication and it literally means a group living together. Since we no longer really live "together", the need for good, rich communication is less and less important.
I was reading recently from Thomas Paine's, "Common Sense", a short narrative about the role governments are formed. This is the first paragraph:
In order to gain a clear and just idea of the design and end of government, let us suppose a small number of persons settled in some sequestered part of the earth, unconnected with the rest, they will then represent the first peopling of any country, or of the world. In this state of natural liberty, society will be their first thought. A thousand motives will excite them thereto, the strength of one man is so unequal to his wants, and his mind so unfitted for perpetual solitude, that he is soon obliged to seek assistance and relief of another, who in his turn requires the same.
"Unfitted for perpetual solitude." God built us all with special talents. Those talents are supposed to work in harmony together to achieve more than we can imagine. We are meant to be in community, to have relationships, to know more than how someone spent their weekend or where they are going for lunch. Julie shared something with me that said we do not have the ability to have the thoughts and dreams that our grandparents generation were capable of because we do not possess the vocabulary to express them. It is the old, "If you don't use it you lose it" (I couldn't resist using another one).
How do we reverse the trend? How do we grow a new generation of great communicators that can break the cycle of cliche and start to rebuild a society of real communities.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Family Night
We attended family night on Friday at Mecklenburg Community Church in North Charlotte. In the past this has been an activity geared toward Zach. Last night we took the whole family into the main auditorium rather than depositing the twins into child care. As you can see from the video, they all had a great time.
Something very interesting is occurring in the development of Zoe and Zane's social personality. When they are home, Zoe and Zane are rarely far from each other. Zoe will play with tools, guns, balls, and other traditional "boy" toys. And as much as it pains me to see sometimes, Zane with play with dolls, princess paraphernalia, tea sets and other traditional "girl" toys. (I did breathe a small sigh of relief watching Zane take a play drill and hammer to one of Zoe's dolls the other day; is that weird?) In contrast though, when we are out amongst other children you will rarely find them together.
After eating dinner at the church the kids of course all started to play. Zane immediately gravitated to the boys, looking for a ledge to jump from or a willing participant for a wrestling match. Zoe is the complete opposite though. She skirts the edge of the play area looking for an entry point that will give her the least amount of resistance. If you have ever seen a brawl during a baseball game, Zane would be the one who sprints from the bullpen and leaps head first directly into the center of the fighting mass. Zoe would be the one standing at second base chatting with the opposing teams shortstop, watching the melee. It is so interesting to watch two children that were born from the same parents, just minutes apart, who are forever linked together, start to diverge and become their own person.
I also witnessed something that just melted my heart. During the service Zoe made an attempt to dance with some girls that were probably about five years old. She hopped over to them, nudged one of the girls arms and started dancing. The girl gave Zoe a look that even Zoe's two year old intellect could deduce was one of exclusion. Zoe kind of moped back over closer to her brothers and had stopped dancing. Feeling bad that I may have just witnessed my little girls first social rejection, I reached out and gave her a little tickle. She turned around slow at first, with a bit of a pout, then a smile leapt to her face and she jumped up and tickled me and Zadie, who I was holding at the time. Everything was right with the world again for little Zoe. It did give me a small glimpse into what the future will hold for us. I am sure that we have not seen the last of snobbish girls. (and one day in will be mean little boys; does anyone have an emoticon for a shiver going down your spine.)
Something very interesting is occurring in the development of Zoe and Zane's social personality. When they are home, Zoe and Zane are rarely far from each other. Zoe will play with tools, guns, balls, and other traditional "boy" toys. And as much as it pains me to see sometimes, Zane with play with dolls, princess paraphernalia, tea sets and other traditional "girl" toys. (I did breathe a small sigh of relief watching Zane take a play drill and hammer to one of Zoe's dolls the other day; is that weird?) In contrast though, when we are out amongst other children you will rarely find them together.
After eating dinner at the church the kids of course all started to play. Zane immediately gravitated to the boys, looking for a ledge to jump from or a willing participant for a wrestling match. Zoe is the complete opposite though. She skirts the edge of the play area looking for an entry point that will give her the least amount of resistance. If you have ever seen a brawl during a baseball game, Zane would be the one who sprints from the bullpen and leaps head first directly into the center of the fighting mass. Zoe would be the one standing at second base chatting with the opposing teams shortstop, watching the melee. It is so interesting to watch two children that were born from the same parents, just minutes apart, who are forever linked together, start to diverge and become their own person.
I also witnessed something that just melted my heart. During the service Zoe made an attempt to dance with some girls that were probably about five years old. She hopped over to them, nudged one of the girls arms and started dancing. The girl gave Zoe a look that even Zoe's two year old intellect could deduce was one of exclusion. Zoe kind of moped back over closer to her brothers and had stopped dancing. Feeling bad that I may have just witnessed my little girls first social rejection, I reached out and gave her a little tickle. She turned around slow at first, with a bit of a pout, then a smile leapt to her face and she jumped up and tickled me and Zadie, who I was holding at the time. Everything was right with the world again for little Zoe. It did give me a small glimpse into what the future will hold for us. I am sure that we have not seen the last of snobbish girls. (and one day in will be mean little boys; does anyone have an emoticon for a shiver going down your spine.)
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Growing Up
My children are all in various stages of establishing independence. We now trust Zack to do things like pick up the baby, hold Zoe and Zane's hand while crossing the street, and watch all the kids while Julie and I go out for a quiet dinner.(One of those statements are false, but I will let you guess which one)
Zoe and Zane are fighting tooth and nail for their independence. Zane on occasion recently decides that he is too big to wear a diaper. He will very quietly take it off and go about playing. Luckily I usually see this before we have a problem, but sometimes I see the puddle, before I see his bare but streak by. Don't quite know how to handle this, scolding and punishment has not worked. I have been considering duct tape, or possibly employing the old dog training technique of rubbing his nose ... better not finish that sentence or my wife may have words for me.
Zoe has figured out her God given skill that all little girls possess; working their parents by using a series of smiles, pouts and panicked desperation. Now that I think about it, my wife has the same power over me.
I figure the first sign of independence we will see from Zadie will be rolling over. We have learned our lesson though, we don't allow Zadie to lie on her back without being chained down somehow. Three sets of feet scampering around is quite enough for the time being.
To be serious for a second though, a few things that Zack did today really stood out. We installed the pole for a new basketball hoop in the driveway today and Zack actually helped. I will always let him "help" and I enjoy that quality time, but things usually take twice as long, finding things he could "help" with. Today he was wielding a shovel like he has been doing it for years.
Then tonight at basketball practice, I saw him have multiple conversations with his coach. When watching from a distance you can tell that he feels what he is saying is important and the coach responds to him not as a little kid, but as a young man, capable of higher forms of dialogue.
It is cliche, but they do grow up fast. We spend the first years encouraging them to roll-over, crawl, walk, talk, run, count and on and on. But then one day they are 7 and while you still encourage them, it is different. Instead of counting to ten, it is multiplying by tens, instead of learning to throw, it is how to lead a receiver open down the field. We are building on the basic skills, which seems less monumental than when they learned the skill in the first place.
It will only get harder as they get older, dating, driving, going to college, marriage, children of their own. I can understand why parents long for their children to be small again. Now I know why parents of 20 and 30 somethings can not wait for grand kids.
It is probably not a big secret that Julie and I love babies. Babies are easy to stay engaged with because they seemingly grow a little every day. The challenge is to stay engaged for all seasons of your child's life. If not you will wake up, like I feel as though I have recently, and wonder how your baby is now 7 and wonder if you paid enough attention along the way.
Zoe and Zane are fighting tooth and nail for their independence. Zane on occasion recently decides that he is too big to wear a diaper. He will very quietly take it off and go about playing. Luckily I usually see this before we have a problem, but sometimes I see the puddle, before I see his bare but streak by. Don't quite know how to handle this, scolding and punishment has not worked. I have been considering duct tape, or possibly employing the old dog training technique of rubbing his nose ... better not finish that sentence or my wife may have words for me.
Zoe has figured out her God given skill that all little girls possess; working their parents by using a series of smiles, pouts and panicked desperation. Now that I think about it, my wife has the same power over me.
I figure the first sign of independence we will see from Zadie will be rolling over. We have learned our lesson though, we don't allow Zadie to lie on her back without being chained down somehow. Three sets of feet scampering around is quite enough for the time being.
To be serious for a second though, a few things that Zack did today really stood out. We installed the pole for a new basketball hoop in the driveway today and Zack actually helped. I will always let him "help" and I enjoy that quality time, but things usually take twice as long, finding things he could "help" with. Today he was wielding a shovel like he has been doing it for years.
Then tonight at basketball practice, I saw him have multiple conversations with his coach. When watching from a distance you can tell that he feels what he is saying is important and the coach responds to him not as a little kid, but as a young man, capable of higher forms of dialogue.
It is cliche, but they do grow up fast. We spend the first years encouraging them to roll-over, crawl, walk, talk, run, count and on and on. But then one day they are 7 and while you still encourage them, it is different. Instead of counting to ten, it is multiplying by tens, instead of learning to throw, it is how to lead a receiver open down the field. We are building on the basic skills, which seems less monumental than when they learned the skill in the first place.
It will only get harder as they get older, dating, driving, going to college, marriage, children of their own. I can understand why parents long for their children to be small again. Now I know why parents of 20 and 30 somethings can not wait for grand kids.
It is probably not a big secret that Julie and I love babies. Babies are easy to stay engaged with because they seemingly grow a little every day. The challenge is to stay engaged for all seasons of your child's life. If not you will wake up, like I feel as though I have recently, and wonder how your baby is now 7 and wonder if you paid enough attention along the way.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Quiet
I had every intention of blogging daily when I started this blog. I guess my good intentions could only carry me through the first day.
I am sitting here in a quiet house; quiet except for the sound of Arthur on TV and the crunching of popcorn coming from the mouth of my eldest son Zachary. In this house that is practically pin-drop quiet. The twins are asleep in their beds. Nap time has become interesting. We have gone to every other day naps, because banging my head against the wall daily was giving me a splitting headache. As I announced bedtime today, (the bedtime announcement is "everyone grab your pillows, lollies (blankets), Elmo and baby and head upstairs; why all this stuff must come downstairs every day is beyond me) Zoe started the chant of "nannies house" that lasted for the next fifteen minutes and escalated from uber-cute and sweet to a piercing shrill. To expand on the origin of "nannies house", Zoe will from time to time put on her Peppe (Princess) high heel shoes, throw on her pink boa, and grab her purse and head for the door saying "nannies house". We do not know which grandmother she is going to see, but we do know that Zane is driving. I'm tempted to give them the keys and open the door to see how far they might make it.
Meanwhile, Zane seemed as though he was OK with nap today, or so I thought. After about twenty minutes of relative quiet from upstairs Zane jumped from the around the corner of the stairs yelling TA-DA with his lolly and Elmo in hand. In my head I had the immediate reaction to yell and scream, demanding he go straight back to bed. Unfortunately the filter that might block the outburst was out of service today because that was exactly what I did. I watched the cutest, happiest smile disappear from my 2 year old boys face. It went from shock, to frown and ultimately to sob. I immediately walked over, picked him up, gave him a hug, a kiss and took him back to his bed. I take some solace in that I made him laugh before I gave him one last hug and kiss and told him goodnight before he rolled over and fell fast asleep. Boy did I feel like a jerk.
It is an absurd proposal, but there should be classes in your senior year of college that are taught by children ages 2-7. It would be a great reminder to make sure you continue learning, asking questions, having fun, trusting and loving people. Imagine if we could be delighted by life when leaping from a corner and yelling TA-DA, or loving family (or anyone) so much that the thought of not seeing that person can induce inconsolable tears. When did fun stop being an everyday pursuit rather than an occasional luxury. There is a lot to learn from these kids...
Must go, the quiet has been broken, Zane needs juice and I must pick up the banana that for some reason is on the Wii room floor.
I am sitting here in a quiet house; quiet except for the sound of Arthur on TV and the crunching of popcorn coming from the mouth of my eldest son Zachary. In this house that is practically pin-drop quiet. The twins are asleep in their beds. Nap time has become interesting. We have gone to every other day naps, because banging my head against the wall daily was giving me a splitting headache. As I announced bedtime today, (the bedtime announcement is "everyone grab your pillows, lollies (blankets), Elmo and baby and head upstairs; why all this stuff must come downstairs every day is beyond me) Zoe started the chant of "nannies house" that lasted for the next fifteen minutes and escalated from uber-cute and sweet to a piercing shrill. To expand on the origin of "nannies house", Zoe will from time to time put on her Peppe (Princess) high heel shoes, throw on her pink boa, and grab her purse and head for the door saying "nannies house". We do not know which grandmother she is going to see, but we do know that Zane is driving. I'm tempted to give them the keys and open the door to see how far they might make it.
Meanwhile, Zane seemed as though he was OK with nap today, or so I thought. After about twenty minutes of relative quiet from upstairs Zane jumped from the around the corner of the stairs yelling TA-DA with his lolly and Elmo in hand. In my head I had the immediate reaction to yell and scream, demanding he go straight back to bed. Unfortunately the filter that might block the outburst was out of service today because that was exactly what I did. I watched the cutest, happiest smile disappear from my 2 year old boys face. It went from shock, to frown and ultimately to sob. I immediately walked over, picked him up, gave him a hug, a kiss and took him back to his bed. I take some solace in that I made him laugh before I gave him one last hug and kiss and told him goodnight before he rolled over and fell fast asleep. Boy did I feel like a jerk.
It is an absurd proposal, but there should be classes in your senior year of college that are taught by children ages 2-7. It would be a great reminder to make sure you continue learning, asking questions, having fun, trusting and loving people. Imagine if we could be delighted by life when leaping from a corner and yelling TA-DA, or loving family (or anyone) so much that the thought of not seeing that person can induce inconsolable tears. When did fun stop being an everyday pursuit rather than an occasional luxury. There is a lot to learn from these kids...
Must go, the quiet has been broken, Zane needs juice and I must pick up the banana that for some reason is on the Wii room floor.
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