This is 36: Our Living Room has become a Children’s Playroom… but It Doesn’t Matter because We Rarely Have Guests Over Anyway

It could just be my perception of reality, but I feel like it used to be that people would actually visit together at each other’s homes: “We’ve got company coming over this afternoon… time to clean up the house!”

These days, if you get invited over to someone’s house, you undeniably have to ask yourself a very important question, “What modern day pyramid scheme am I being invited to join?”

As far as inviting people over to our house, my wife and I both work full-time; both of us commute about 2 hours round trip Monday through Friday. Saturdays are consumed with buying groceries and going to birthday parties. And Sunday is for church, cleaning the house, and attempting to chill out as a family.

The thought of preparing our house for guests, on top of that? I’m sure my family is not alone in feeling this way.

I can say that because, for the friends who we do hang out with on a regular basis, we rarely visit at each other’s house. It’s easier just to meet up somewhere in the middle, where there’s something for all our kids to do.

Therefore, it’s no bother that for the next several years, our classy living room will be occupied with pink strollers and American Girl dolls; as well as dinosaurs, Legos, and Pokemon paraphernalia; thanks to a 1 year-old little girl and a soon-to-be Kindergarten graduate.

The funny thing is, we have a bonus room upstairs that could easily be “the playroom”. But it’s not central to where the action is: The kitchen is the epicenter of our home and the kitchen is adjoined to the living room, which has now used as a playroom, more than a living room.

I guess playing equates with living when only half of the 4 members of the household are adults.

Even in the rare event we did have guests over, our living room converted into a playroom would simply be… expected. Because this is the norm.

This is 36.

Instead of Spanking, Answer the 5 “Distress Calls” of Your Child “Misbehaving”: Tired, Hungry, Bored, Lonely, or Sick

I am writing this blog post for any open-minded Millennial parents who want a new perspective on how to discipline their children, without using physical force. This is not designed to change the minds of anyone who defends spanking; nor do I judge parents who believe in spanking- if I did, I’d be judging 80% of American parents!

After all, I’m the strange one when it comes to child discipline: I represent the 20%, the minority, of American parents in that I don’t spank my children.

“Well I was spanked as a child and I turned out alright-

I’ve never killed anyone and I’ve never been to prison.”

That, by the way, is the cliché line you’ll typically hear from other parents who spank their children. But “not being a murderer” and “never spent time in prison” are not good selling point in defense of spanking a child.

In fact, that concept only reinforces that spanking is counterproductive, or ineffective, at best:

Look at the people who actually end up in prison and who actually are murderers. While spanking a child doesn’t mean they’ll end up in prison or murder someone, documented research shows that “spanked children are more likely to break the law.”

But beyond that, I say this isn’t even a question of, “Well then how do I discipline my child without spanking them?”

No, that’s the wrong thing to be asking.

The right question is this: “How can I proactively prevent my child from misbehaving to begin with, or at least care for their actual needs instead of physically striking them when they do misbehave?”

I am basing my logic from Albert Einstein, who said this:

“Intellectuals solve problems. Geniuses prevent them.”

You’re the parent. Your job is to provide for your child’s needs, not hit them because they have those needs in the first place.

Here’s a reminder that you, the adult, are more much emotionally intelligent than your child, who is not necessarily capable or likely to communicate what is wrong. Instead, they “act out” to get attention from you, as the emotionally intelligent adult, to figure out which of the following issues they need you to solve.

I see the word “misbehave” as the wrong word anyway. Instead, the child is sending the parent a “warning signal” that they need the parent’s help.

It’s this simple. As the parent, your job is to constantly ask yourself this question:

“Is my child tired, hungry, bored, lonely, or sick?”

If the answer is yes to any of those 5 things, then here’s what you do:

You facilitate your child taking a nap, you feed your child, you help your child find a constructive activity to do, you pay them attention, or you provide medical assistance.

Imagine an adult hitting a child’s butt because that child is too emotionally unintelligent to verbally communicate with the parent that they are tired, hungry, bored, lonely, or sick.

Now compare that to my solution.

My son was the first child to be chosen by his Kindergarten teacher this year to as the “Student of the Month” in his class, as his teacher saw that he is not only well-behaved, but also well-balanced and involved in class. He’s also in the Advanced Reader group.

Additionally, at his “before care” school, both his teacher and the director have individually approached me to tell me the same thing:

“I have watched your son day after day. He is the most polite and helpful boy here. Whatever you’re doing as a parent, just know… it’s working.”

Only 20% of American parents don’t spank their children. And I am one of them.

This is 36: We’re Not Hypocrites for Using Facebook as a Highlight Reel from Our Lives

If we’re being honest, Facebook is an open mic, public stage in which we present the best parts of our lives to those in our social circle. I have no shame in admitting that.

Chances are, the most relevant thing you scroll your Facebook feed for is pictures of your friends’ and family members’ kids. And I would also predict that most of the “likes” and comments that you receive are based on pictures you post of your own kids.

Yeah, that magical red notification that alerts us of confirmation that some part of our life is being mutually acknowledged and appreciated…

But are we all somehow hypocrites for choosing to highlight the most exciting and interesting parts of our lives? Does that make us all fake? Would we all be better off if instead, we also included the mundane parts of our lives?

For example, should I update my status right now so everyone can know that it’s time to clip my fingernails? Is that something you would want to know about?

If so, then you are very easily amused… right? And if you “liked” status comment about me needing to clip my fingernails, I would assume that if you are not desperate for distraction from real life, that you were just give me a “courtesy like” to make me feel good about myself.

The thing is, we don’t want courtesy likes, do we?

Instead, we want to know and believe that the people in our social circles authentically “like” what we place in front of them.

So naturally, presenting our Facebook friends with our best material is what we all do. We certainly don’t want to use everyone else’s Facebook feed to advertise the most negative parts of our own lives; we would appear emotionally needy in that case.

We all want to be liked for good things about ourselves. We all want to be included by society. To a certain (and healthy) degree, we care about what people think about us. I say that’s a good thing.

I am not a hypocrite for using Facebook as my highlight reel. And neither are you.

So I will keep posting the highlights of my life on Facebook. So will you.

And that’s completely okay.

This is 36.

Dear Jack: That Time You Secretly Decided to Be a Nerf Sniper at Zeke’s Birthday Party

6 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Saturday afternoon, our family attended your classmate’s 6th birthday party at his family’s house. Mommy and I held Holly, while we sat on the covered back porch, along with the other parents.

Pretty early on into the party, Zeke’s dad brought out the Nerf mini dart guns for all the kids to run around in the back yard and shoot each other, while all the adults casually watched the chaos.

After a few minutes of the 6 year-old version of the Hunger Games taking place, I looked up from holding your sister’s hand as she walked along the patio furniture, and saw you quietly standing there on the outside of the guard rail, appearing to take aim.

I was right.

Because then, I saw you pull the trigger, hitting one of your friends in the chest as he ran across the yard. He had no idea he had been hit by the Nerf Sniper.

Then I muttered to you, “Jack, are you standing up there and shooting them without them knowing what you’re doing?”

You smiled so sneakily and shook your head, yes.

Obviously, I was proud of you. After all, it was a free-for-all. There were no rules. No one said you had to stay down in the line of fire and get shot like everyone else.

Good for you, assuming the role of the sniper.

Your idea of fun wasn’t running around, laughing with your friends. Instead, your idea of fun was winning. This was not a game at a birthday party. This was war.

By the time the others figured out what you were doing, it was time to go inside for pizza and cake.

I imagine a few years from now when your friends start having laser tag birthday parties, you’re definitely going to have an advantage.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Holly: Your 1 Year Check Up Results from the Doctor- 60th Percentile for Height, 16th for Weight

1 year.

Dear Holly,

For the first two years of his life, your brother was a very husky boy.

Obviously, he grew out of his “baby body suit” around the age of 3, and now the word “husky” could no longer be used to describe him.

But as for you, you’ve just always been a light little girl. Even when Mommy was pregnant with you, there was some concern from the nurses that you wouldn’t weigh enough. It all worked out, though, since you were born weighing 7 pounds, 5 ounces.

Last week Mommy took you to your 1 year check-up at the doctor’s office. You are currently in the 60th percentile for height and the 16th percentile for weight.

As I look at you in these pictures, I see a little China doll. Well actually, with your complexion, you’re more like a Norwegian doll.

This past weekend while we were at a birthday party for one of your brother’s classmates, I took a couple of pictures of you playing. In one of them, you have this look on your face that seems to imply, “Whew… I didn’t know being so cute all day long would be so exhausting!”

I see you as delicate; yet strong, curious, and determined.

You look just as cute with an actual girls’ doll as you do with one of your brother’s Pickachu stuffed animals.

Mommy and I are now transitioning you that much more off of formula and onto cow’s milk and solid foods.

Oh, and we’ve got you wearing shoes now. You’ve been a barefoot baby up until this point.

After all, you’re learning to walk. You’re on the move. You need to have cute little girly shoes for that.

Also, Mommy and I are starting to see your two top teeth come in. You love munching on Cheerios.

I am watching you transition from baby to little girl.

And I love it.

Love,

Daddy