Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

1 Comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

Forcing Your Kid To Apologize And Hug The Other Kid

February 1, 2013 at 11:32 pm , by 

2 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

In yesterday’s “Asking A Toddler Why They Did Something Wrong” I explained how you got in trouble at school yesterday for throwing a toy at a friend, hitting them in the face and leaving a mark. I also explained how you were disciplined for it.

So today is the direct sequel to that story.

When I was a kid, I hated having to apologize and hug “the other kid” when I hurt them.

I didn’t like that it was forced. I would think to myself, “This obviously isn’t a real hug. I’m only saying I’m sorry because I have to. This is stupid.”

Now that I’m the parent, having you apologize to and hug your victim was the first thing I made you do once you got to school today and saw “the other kid.”

Turns out, though, “the other kid” just so happens to be one of your very best friends, Sophie Culpepper. I have mentioned her here on The Dadabase more than any other friend.

In other words, she’s no generic kid without a face or name. From you and her playing at your 2nd birthday party, all the way back to November 2011 when I first wrote a story about you two, you both have been buddies this whole time.

So this morning as I was unstrapping you from you car seat, I whispered to you, as if I was some divine voice from above trying to subconsciously place the idea in your head:

“Today, you need to apologize to Sophie and give her a hug.”

When we arrived in the classroom, I placed you on the floor next to Sophie. I whispered my divine instructions to you again, with Sophie’s mom watching too.

You froze. You usually do when we cross over from “family mode” to “school mode.”

I’m going to assume that after the parents went away, you did what I asked of you. Sure, it may just be wishful thinking.

But I know you really are sorry about what happened. I’ve learned here recently when you get in trouble with Mommy and I before leaving for school, you’ll be quiet the whole trip. Then, as I’m taking you inside to KinderCare, you will say with shame, “I listen to Mommy.”

(Translation: “I will listen to you and Mommy next time, instead of freaking out about not getting to watch Mater’s Tall Tales when it’s time to go.”)

If it’s true you hurt the ones you love the most, then I, in some strange way, can understand that your first victim of a toy-to-the-face throw had to be your best girl friend.

After all, you’ve grown up with Sophie in your daycare. She’s so much like a sister to you. If I did the math, you might even spend more waking hours with her than I am able to spend with you myself.

So yes, a forced apology and hug may seem a bit awkward to you, but those things help you to understand that hurting others comes with consequences; not just physical, but emotional.

Like I said yesterday, I know that it’s challenging right now for you to understand your emotions, but when you hug the person you have hurt, it helps send a message of emotional healing in the relationship.

Better are forced apologies and hugs than ignoring the offense all together. However, I know that the more I force them on you, the more natural and sincere they will become.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

Asking A Toddler Why They Did Something Wrong

February 1, 2013 at 12:13 am , by 

2 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

Today when I picked you up from KinderCare, your teacher gave me an incident report to sign:

“Jack threw a toy at a friend, hitting them in the face. Left a good sized mark. Separated them. Had time to himself and we talked about being nice to friends and using words when upset.”

It’s so natural for me to respond by asking you, “Jack… why did you do that?Why did you throw a toy at your friend?”

I realize now that by asking you that, I’m asking you a question you yourself don’t know the answer to.

In fact, you’re sort of relying on me to explain why you did it.

After all, while you can now easily and quickly piece together sentences to communicate things you observe, you’re not really able to communicate to me how you feel unless you are either very happy or very sad. Therefore, asking you to explain why you feel the way you do is even more confusing for you.

Right now Mommy and I are working on teaching you different emotions to describe how you feel. While you don’t quite yet understand “angry,” you do understand “sad.”

So I guess the best way to help you understand why you threw a toy at your friend and hit them in the face is maybe something like this:

“Jack, today you hurt your friend when you threw your toy at them. I think you might have felt angry when you did it. That made your friend sad. Jack, please say you’re sorry to them tomorrow. We hand our toys to our friends instead of throwing them; even if they do something we don’t like.”

You had to go to bed without your usual playtime at your train table, plus you didn’t get to take any of your trains to bed. That’s pretty weird for me… the thought of you going to bed without your little talking die-cast trains.

Ultimately, why you threw a toy at your friend doesn’t change the fact that I need to teach you to not throw a toy at a friend… for any reason.

So now, I don’t care about the why. I care about the how: How can I teach you that what you did was not nice?

By trying to help you use words to describe how you feel, asking you to apologize to your friend, and then by taking away your favorite toys for the night.

(There may be a better way. If there is, I’m open to suggestions from anyone else who happens to be reading this letter.)

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

American Families Have Dual Incomes, Yet Less Time Than Europeans

January 28, 2013 at 10:56 pm , by 

2 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

Two years and two months ago when you were born, we moved away from Nashville where Mommy and I had secure jobs and a great network of friends.

Why? Because life in the big city was too busy for us. We felt so starved for quality time, that we wanted to expose you to a slower pace of life.

So we moved to my hometown in Alabama, where, guess what? We were unemployed for the majority of our 8 months there. Sure, we had plenty of quality time, but it wasn’t reallyquality time because we weren’t actually making any money to justify our existence.

As your dad, it devastated me, knowing that I brought you into this world, only to not be able to provide for you.

Obviously, we moved back to Nashville, got even better jobs than we had before we left, and now life is wonderful.

Except for that one thing: Finding quality time for our family is still a struggle.

Mommy and I both work full-time, plus I have a part-time job. While your parents are at work, you spend nearly all of your waking hours with paid professionals and your peers at daycare.

Granted, it shows. You’re highly socialized: You know how to eat with proper utensils, you use the potty at school, and you don’t suffer from separation anxiety.

Yet Mommy and I have about 20 quality minutes together with you on weekdays, if we’re not counting getting you ready for school and getting you ready for bed.

We really do have so little time with you. Sure, we’ve got the whole weekend with you…

That’s when we buy groceries, clean the house, take the recycling, catch up with friends, and go to church; all based around your nap schedule.

If we were in Europe, I guess things would be different. I just read this article in The New York Times calledWhat We Have Less Of, by Paul Krugman:

“So what we have is a situation in which American families have more stuff, but they have managed to afford that stuff only by being two-income families, with ever less family time — unlike their European counterparts, who have gained in shorter hours and vacations what they lost in stay-at-home wives.”

It’s a nice thought, to actually have a comfortable amount of quality time, as a family. We tried that and couldn’t afford it.

I know it sounds strange that we don’t have cable TV or smartphones, but aside from the obvious financial savings, we also have a few less distractions in our house.

Quality time is a rare currency. As your American parents, we are always desperate to figure out ways to get more of it with you.

However, working less isn’t an option.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

I Think My 2 Year-Old Son Is Better At Sports Than I Am

January 27, 2013 at 11:00 pm , by 

2 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

Right now, I think your athletic abilities might be slightly greater than mine. Hopefully, it won’t always be that way. I do plan to catch up, though.

Granted, I won’t always literally be twice your height like I am currently, so I will eventually lose that one advantage over you.

When I was growing up, I wasn’t passionate about kicking and throwing a ball around, like the way you are now.

For your 2nd birthday back in November, you screamed with excitement as you opened your gift from Nonna and Papa:

“A basketball goal!” 

It’s still weird to me that A) you knew what it was called and B) you were able to pronounce it clearly enough for everyone to understand you.

Every Sunday morning as Mommy and I walk you past the kids’ basketball court at our church, you ask us, “I play for a few minutes?”

We’re always a solid 10 minutes late for the service now, but I never regret it, as I pick you up high in an attempt for you to slam dunk the ball through the hoop.

It’s not just basketball you have taken an interest in. After dinner now, Mommy and I play our own version of “Monkey in the Middle” with you, in the hallway of our townhouse.

I stand at the entrance of the living room and Mommy stands at the entrance of the dining room. We kick your miniature soccer ball to each other, with the room behind each other serving as the goal.

Meanwhile, you entertain yourself as you kick your orange volleyball in between Mommy and I in our line our fire, giggling yourself silly as you dodge the soccer ball that we kick inches away from you.

I guess you could call it “Dodge-Soccer Volley Monkey-in-the-Middle…”.

You just love the action, as random and technically dangerous as it definitely is.

As you get a little bit older, I”ll get to throw a football back and forth with you in the backyard, as the sun sets and we talk about your day. That’s a very important image in my head.

Playing both real and made-up ball games with you is lot of fun, but more importantly, it gives me a chance to engage you and get to know you better. The older you get, the more it will matter to both of us.

For now, the best benefit about playing “Dodge-Soccer Volley Monkey-in-the-Middle” is that it’s the perfect way to wear you out right before bedtime.

You go down so easily now. Of course, you sleep with your soccer ball in your bed every night. Sometimes, it’s the orange volleyball too.

If only I were making that up.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

“All I Ever Wanted Was To Be A Dad,” Said Few Men Ever

January 26, 2013 at 11:17 pm , by 

2 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

Last week when I wrote “Dads Are Happier Than Moms and Singles, Says Psychological Science,” I received an intuitive comment that really helped me understand myself better:

“I am a mom who, much like you, just knew I’d be a [parent] but never dreamed of it my whole life, or knew what to expect at all. I assumed that when I had my child I’d keep working and be happy with him in daycare, because that’s what my parents did with me. I couldn’t have been more wrong — about my happiness/satisfaction with this scenario.

We can’t afford for me to stop working, but all I want to do is be with my son. It is the most horrible feeling in the world. Guilt, feeling like I’m missing out, and most of all: the inherent instinct, dare I say biological need, to be with my infant child, makes me INCREDIBLY sad to have to sit at my desk all day. I know not all mothers feel this way, but this is why I am less happy than my husband — who has no problem at all working full time.”

The main takeaway from this comment for me personally is that, as a mom, she feels guilty about having to work full time and be away from her child; meanwhile, her husband has no problem with that issue.

Good point. Not only does it appear to be the norm for most women to yearn to become mothers, therefore causing my familiarity with the phrase, “All I ever wanted was to be a mother,” but it seems just as predictable that men experience much less guilt about working all day, away from their child.

I’ll speak for myself here, as a dad. Do I feel guilty about you being in daycare all day while I’m literally a quarter of a mile down the road, working in the office?

To be vulnerably honest… never.

If the question is whether or not I miss you everyday while I’m away from you, the answer is absolutely yes!

Inconveniently, your 2 hour nap occurs during the middle of my lunch break; otherwise, I’d spend that extra hour with you.

Like most dads, I am wired with the subconscious yet undeniable desire (and biological need?) to provide for you and Mommy. So to be honest, the thought of feeling guilty about you being in daycare while I’m at work… well, it’s pretty much the opposite of how my mind works.

Instead, I would feel guilty if I couldn’t be working all day while you’re in daycare. In an ideal world, Mommy could stay home with you, at least.

I gain a lot of confidence and self-worth by going out and working to provide for you and Mommy five days a week. It’s like, for me to feel successful, I have to have this “other life” away from you to earn the right to the version of life I share with you and Mommy.

So, no; like most men I know, I never thought or said out loud, “All I ever wanted was to be a dad.”

Instead, this was my version:

“All I ever wanted was to make a good and respectable living for the family that I always knew I would have one day.”

 

Love,

Daddy