Bambi Beware

I'm going deer hunting for the first time this weekend. My brother-in-law is an avid hunter and owns enough rifles to equip the Peruvian army, so he is graciously allowing me to borrow one. I've enjoyed getting outfitted for the trip, picking up the blaze-orange parka, snow pants, hoodie, hat, and gloves, as well as the long underwear and heavy socks. Come Saturday morning, I will be the definition of haute couture, ready to stylishly enjoy nature and look for that 16-point buck. Should be a blast.

Of course, telling my kids about the hunting trip is not as fun. Brady and I were talking about dinosaurs last night and he said he wanted to go to the museum and see some. He likes to watch a show called Dino Dan in which 8-year-old Dan has computer-generated dinosaur friends to play with, so Brady thought that the dinos we see at the museum would lick his hand like a dog. He was crestfallen to learn that dinosaurs have been extinct for a little while now, and when I told him that the dinosaurs we see at the museum will be fossilized bones, he got a little teary-eyed and asked, "Are they all dead?"

It's a matter of course to us grown-ups, but how do you break this stuff gently to kids? As parents, we have to walk the fine line between sheltering our kids and overexposing them to life. They have such big tender hearts, which is just one of the many things that make them so dear. I know it's part of the deal, but I surely don't love taking any of the wonder out of their world.

So needless to say, I probably won't be telling Brady the purpose of the hunting trip, at least for a few more years. For now, I'd rather he see Bambi as a cute cartoon than white-wrapped packages in the freezer.

A History Lesson

In the summer of 1895, an entomologist in New Zealand had an idea that would one day affect the lives of parents everywhere. The man was George Vernon Hudson. The idea was Daylight Saving Time. And the world has never been the same.

Hudson submitted his idea to authorities with the reasoning that having extra daylight hours would allow for more time to study insects. When no one was especially thrilled by the prospect of having more time to look at bugs, he changed tactics. He touted the benefits of energy savings, increased productivity, and suntanning, and people started to pay attention. Scientists in other countries picked up on the idea, and by the latter half of the 20th century, it had caught on in many areas around the world. Today, based on numerous independent studies, we know that in general, the benefits of Daylight Saving Time far outweigh its disadvantages. For parents, however, there is still much to debate.

Each year, on the first Sunday of November, we set our clocks back an hour. In theory, this should allow for an extra hour of sleep. Great, right? But we parents of young children know better. You see, kids have finely tuned internal clocks that tell them when they're tired and when it's time to get up in the morning. God installs these clocks before birth and sets them to the time zone in which the baby will be born, but for some unknown reason, he decided not to include a Daylight Saving button. This is all on page 597 of the Child Maintenance Manual you received when your child was born, by the way. Oh, you didn't get your copy? Yeah, me either.

So, for each of the last three days, each of my three kids has started their day somewhere between 5 and 5:30 AM. Brady, who's 4, simply gets out of bed, goes potty, and then climbs into bed with us. This would be fine if he were to go back to sleep, but he's a wriggler, and one can only be kicked in the stomach so many times before one is up for the day. Ellie, age 2, is still in her crib, and being so imprisoned, she sings for a while before yelling at the top of her lungs, "DAAAAAAAAAADYYY, COME IN!" until I drag myself into her room. Once I'm there, she sweetly says, "Hi daddy. My nuggle you?" Can't say no to snuggles, of course. Surprisingly, baby Riley's been the easy one. He just hangs out in his crib listening to his siblings cavort until he realizes that he's not in on the action, at which time he joins the chorus with gusto.

Now, I know my kids and yours will get used the new time eventually, but in the meantime, I thought you should know who to thank for your early morning wake-up call: Mr. George Vernon Hudson. If he were still alive, I'd shake his hand. Hard.

So here's to you, Mr. Early-Rising Bug-Lover Guy. I hope you enjoyed studying your chorus cicada and giant weta, because now the rest of us get to pay for it.

The Garbage Exposal

We were cleaning up after dinner tonight and while I was clearing the table, I noticed Brady was spending an unusual amount of time rooting around in the kitchen sink. When I asked him what was up, he replied, "My cup is in there. It almost fell in the garbage exposal." No doubt he thinks that anything that falls into that sinister black hole will immediately be ground to shreds, but I could tell he was relieved that his cup had lived to continue holding his milk, so I left it alone.

This brought to mind something Brady said on a Sunday afternoon not long ago. We asked him what he'd learned about in Sunday School, and he told us all about Jesus coming to earth. I asked him why it was he thought Jesus had to die, and he said in a very matter-of-fact way, "He came to die for our skins." I'd say that just about covers it.

Even when they're still learning the words they need in order to express themselves, kids usually get the general idea. As parents, we get to guide them along that learning curve. We get to teach them which knowledge to keep, and which to throw in the garbage exposal. That's a big responsibility.

Toddler Swearing

For those of you who haven't met her, I'd like to introduce my daughter Ellie.

Ellie has big blue eyes, bouncy blonde curls, and a bubbly belly laugh. If you ask her how old she is, she'll tell you, "My two." She loves each of her 27 dollies, sucks her right thumb, and likes Dum-Dums lollipops more than almost anything in the world. When I get home from work, she runs to me and yells, "DADDY, mup! (up)" and gives me a big snuggle hug. In short, she's the sweetest thing since high-fructose corn syrup, and I'm in love. Here, see for yourself:

But there's another side to this little princess. You see, her big brother Brady could bench-press her with one arm and isn't afraid to throw his weight around a little. He's usually loving, but he sometimes takes great joy in picking on her, and although big brothers do indeed become protective of little sisters at a certain age, four is not that age. Therefore, Ellie has had to develop a non-physical defense system. I call it toddler swearing.

An example from a few days ago: Ellie was playing with her new LeapFrog laptop, a current fave, and Brady walked over and grabbed it out of her hands. Ellie screamed. I informed Brady in no uncertain terms that if he chose to not give it back and wait until she was done, he would win an all-expenses-paid trip to his bedroom for some involuntary R&R. He said, "Huh?", to which I replied, "You'll get a time-out." He understood that just fine.

Brady shot Ellie a dark look, and that's when Ellie broke out this gem, under her breath and with a sneer: "Sucka-bucka-poopy-sucka-pucka..." She said it in the same way someone would say, "Yeah, that's right. Walk away, punk." Toddler swearing. Brady is obviously not too threatened by Ellie, but when she throws down, it works because he thinks it's so stinkin' hilarious that he forgets whatever it was he was bugging her about. Situation defused, and not by me. I sometimes forget the fact that God made these little people pretty darned smart, and that despite all the things I do wrong, they just might turn out all right. 

Now look at that gorgeous little face again. Go ahead. Can you imagine such a sweet little girl telling off someone twice her size? No? Well, you better believe it, Sucka-Pucka.

In Which I Apply Sports Analogies to Politics

-November 1, 2010

In November 2008, Washington Democrats fans were feeling all right.

They had just witnessed their team's old-fashioned steamrolling of the crosstown rival Republicans. They had seen the hiring of new head coach Barack Obama, a young and fiery up-and-comer who was regarded as a good recruiter and quite possibly THE guy to really put things together for a serious run at winning it all.

Right away, he landed a couple of blue-chip, can't-miss players: a strong-armed quarterback named Reid and a leather-skinned hard-nosed ballhawk of a linebacker named Pelosi. Both are left-handed, a quality Coach Obama highly values in his recruits. The fan base was rejuvenated, athletic director George Soros was dancing in time to media praise, and the program was poised to begin a long period of unquestioned dominance. A dynasty, some said, and it certainly looked that way.

In short, the pieces were in place, and fans had reason to Hope, for a Change.

Now, however, with just seconds before halftime, things aren't looking as hopeful. The Republicans have been surprisingly plucky and resourceful despite a smaller line and muddled on-field leadership, having unveiled a newly-developed stonewalling play they simply call "NO" with surprising success. The Democrats have had their victories along the way, to be sure, running the Health Care Reform spread and pushing their Stimulus Package offense in a bull rush right over the goal line. Despite the Democrats' early flurry of scoring, however, the momentum has shifted to the Republicans in the second quarter, and they appear to be poised to take the lead going into halftime.

What will the second half bring to this matchup? There's no doubt that Coach Obama will be undaunted by the Republicans' strong push and will use every tactic at his disposal to execute his game plan, but will it be enough to carry the day? Will the Republicans ride the wave of momentum to victory, or will these rivals play to a deadlocked tie with neither accomplishing anything of note, slogging through the mud and exchanging blows? Only time will tell.

At the end of the day, the most important question is this: will the players in this twisty drama remember the reason they're there in the first place? Will they remember the fans, without whom they'd be relegated to the bench and fade into anonymity? Will they toe the line and give the fans a reason to cheer again? One would hope so, because if not, the fans will be the only real losers in this game.

                                     Please vote tomorrow!