Sleep Sweetly, My Children

So we're prepping dinner tonight and the whole family is gathered. It's a sweet time of the day in our house when the work is done for the day and we're all just happy to "be." Traci is dishing up some beautiful tortellini and I'm slicing fresh bread while the kids are munching on a salad.

The Youngest Sister randomly pops out with, "I know why you and Mom can watch grown up movies."

We're on the edge of insight here, I just know it.

"Why is that?" I inquire.

"Because you two sleep together and don't get scared," she replied.

"Why do you say that?" I pried.

"Because when I'm scared I get in your bed and after a while I'm not scared anymore because we cuddle," she said, big brown eyes dancing and delightful.

"Yeah, I used to come in your room when I had bad dreams and lay with you a while," added the Brother. "That made it better."

Good advice. Maybe the best we can do, even as adults, is to cuddle up with someone when we're scared.

Today I almost wrecked Dora the Explorer when a rear tire blew out on the Gulf Freeway, just outside the I-610 loop. I was moving along at 70 mph, in the middle of heavy traffic when I felt the rear end start coming around on me. For some unknown reason I did what they said to do way back in Driver's Ed. I steered into the skid and only when I regained control did I slowly hit the brakes. The other drivers must have seen the swerve and the ensuing smoke because they gave me room and I managed my way across three lanes to get to the shoulder.

I came to a stop, got out, and in a cloud of tire smoke I assessed the damage. Quickly, I began the tire-changing process, with a portion of my SUV's rear end sticking out into the passing lane of the freeway. I was sweaty scared.

Traffic was swerving around me, horns were blaring, and I knew I was in trouble. I'd hardly pulled out the jack and begun to lower the spare when I heard a revving Harley behind me and looked back to see an HPD mounted cop. He was soon joined by a Motor Assistance Patrol and we were shielded from the traffic while I went about my fearful chore with a little more calm than before.

I hurried along competently, but I certainly didn't earn a spot on a NASCAR pit crew. Finally done, I trotted down the shoulder to the HPD officer, eager to thank him for getting there very quickly. I began to speak but he cut me off, "Let's move on before we both get hit."

His eyes betrayed him. They said: This is dangerous. Let's get out of here. If I'd known how scared that policeman was, I'd have been more scared.

One day I'll tell the Sisters and the Brother how scared I really was, but for a while, it's probably best that they don't know. In this season of life they need someone around them who doesn't seem scared. Someone who can blanket them strongly and take away the fear. Someone in the night-land they can go to when the dreams are as dark as a new moon.

You know, someone they can cuddle with.

Sleep sweetly my children, while you can, for I'm afraid that someday you will understand my words.

Loser Dads

Here's to all the loser dads out there. I am a member of this sad lot of men who, though they try hard, cannot seem to get all the aspects of fatherhood balanced out. This week I confirmed (again!) why I belong to this motley crew.

It was Tuesday morning and getting the Brother and the Younger Sister ready for school was chaos. There was no milk for cereal and there was no time for scrambled eggs. I think we forgot to brush teeth, but I did manage to get a ponytail pulled up in the Youngest Sister's hair and a vitamin down their throats. I rushed them out the door in a hurry, hoping against hope that we might still pick up the kids in our car pool on time.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I made record time to pick up the other three kids, realizing we still stood an outside shot of being to school on time. We loaded them all into Dora The Explorer, took the corners on two wheels, and slid sideways up to the Kindergarten gate. All five kids piled out and I thought how glad I was they wouldn't get a tardy for the day.

I was mentally congratulating myself until, just as the door shut, I heard the Brother say to the Younger Sister, "Hey, your shirt's inside out!"

The look on her face was a mixture of panic and embarassment. I wanted to go back and help her, but the drop off line needed to move on. I knew that if I circled back they'd already be inside and I couldn't get to her without signing in through the front office. Since I had an early appointment I rationalized it all out. I figured she's old enough to turn her shirt right side out if it bothered her. Turns out I was right.

I went at 12:15 for her weekly violin lesson and afterward we took our routine walk down the hall to her classroom. I asked, "Hey, was your shirt on inside out this morning?"

"Yes," she replied matter of factly.

"How did you fix it?" I inquired, fishing for a good story.

"I went to the girl's room and turned it 'side-out.'"

"By yourself?" I asked, remembering that she usually asked me to do it for her at home.

"Yes. I'm really getting to be a big girl, Daddy. I can do things." It is appropriate to mention her comment was concurrent with an eye roll of epic scale. I think she scanned her entire brain on that one.

Maybe it's because our male DNA is programned to screw up the little things. Maybe it's because we're building on our role as father that we inherited from our father and still have a ways to go. Or maybe, God provides us and our children these little "oops" moments to create growth in both parent in child. I can hope it's the latter, can't I?

It left me wondering just how badly our culture is screwing up our kids by over functioning for them? Are all the helicopter parents doing too much to insulate children from some of the realities of life, as well as robbing them of opportunities for good growth?

Do we really intend to raise a child under heavy protection, limited choices and risks, and devoid of any pain? Or rather, should we allow them to stumble, maybe even scrape a knee? Does a kid need to know what it's like to get/give a bloody nose or a broken heart? As in nature, children need to experience risk and loss in order to prepare for this life.

Of course, it may be that I'm just a loser Dad who needs to pay more attention to what my daughter wears when she leaves the house. At least I learned the lesson while she's in kindergarten and not when she's 17.