The girls have a lion toy that has caused us some headaches lately. It’s a walker, but also converts so that the kids can ride on it. Until a week ago, the lion was a mere curiosity in the corner of the baby corral. But last week we realized the girls were too big to be caged up all day, so we instituted the “free range baby” policy. Suddenly the lion thing is very popular.

I have a picture of Lily sitting on the lion, with Audrey behind her, pushing. It’s a great picture. I set it as my background at work. Lily is happy and relaxed, while Audrey is concentrating on the lion, as if making sure not to push too hard for her little (though older) sister. It’s the kind of picture that belongs in one of those “Sisters” frames. The kind that makes people go “Awwwwww...”

That’s the great thing about pictures. You get this brief moment of time (1/60 of a second, in this case) completely out of context so that people think it’s sweet. No one has to know that just after that picture was taken Audrey reached up, grabbed Lily’s shirt, and tried to throw her off the lion. No one has to hear the screaming that ensued from both girls—from Lily because she was off the lion, and then from Audrey because Daddy put Lily back on. Nope, it’s just a nice little picture of sisters having fun.

Pictures aside, the fighting is becoming more common, but only where the lion is involved. Each girl approaches the situation differently, but it all ends in crying. Perhaps I’m projecting, but it seems that Audrey is especially prone to taking over the lion when she thinks her sisters aren’t operating it correctly. Isabel just grabs it whenever it comes by, regardless of who is using it at the time. Lily has to work so hard getting the thing going that she doesn’t want to give it up to anyone.

So now we have a decision. Do we get two more lions so everyone is happy? Would that even work? Or do we try to teach the concept of sharing to three 14-month-olds, only two of whom can even do a consistently good duck impersonation? Perhaps we should set up a schedule of isolated visitations? These are questions that never occurred to me five years ago. Even five months ago. I don’t think their entire lifelong social development hinges on the number of plastic cats in our house, but one never knows…

It’s Mother’s Day today and although this is a site for Dads written by Dads, I would be remiss if I didn’t take a moment today to pause and celebrate Mothers.

I’m thankful that my mother cared enough about me that she was willing to invest so much of herself into raising me and my brother. Even now though I am an adult she’s still looking out for me. That’s the committment of parent: a lifetime of nurturing and love.

I’m also thankful that I have my wife with me to raise our two daughters. My hope for them is that they will one day be mothers themselves raising their own families. I hope they are paying attention to what their mother is teaching them for they can learn a great deal just from observing her.

The older that my kids get the more I realize how little I know about what to teach them. I’m glad my wife is with me to round out their education as I am sure there is much that I would miss teaching them. As my oldest daughter moves closer and closer to being a teenager I am glad my wife is around to deal with the many personal issues that arise with a girl growing into a young woman. Let’s face it, guys, we don’t understand women and are ill-equipped to teach our girls about being women. It’s a good thing we have our wives to help us along.

I couldn’t help think today, too, of the single moms that we know who have been forced to raise their kids on their own. Hats off to you ladies as you have an especially difficult task ahead of you. I can’t even begin to imagine how you manage to raise your kids without someone alongside you to help. It’s tough enough being a parent when your spouse is there with you. Going alone seems an almost insurmountable task.

Guys, if you haven’t done so already, let me encourage you to thank your mother today for all the sacrifices she made for you. If you’re married, be sure to thank your wives also for being willing to take on the most difficult yet rewarding job in the world: parent.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mothers out there from all of us at Dadbloggers.

My kids’ grandfather, my father-in-law, passed away last week.  He was diagnosed with prostate cancer about a year and a half ago.  Thanks to the VA cutting corners with the tests they were supposed to be doing, the cancer was already in Stage 4 when they discovered it, and had already moved into his bones and throughout his body.  Had they actually been doing the tests they said they were, they would have caught it sooner and possibly been able to treat it more effectively. But that is not the point.

This is the first time my wife and I have had to explain death to our children on a personal level.  Only my oldest had ever been to a viewing before. His only question back then was whether the body in the casket was going to be a vampire or a zombie. Thanks, Buffy.  This time, he’s now 8, he understands what it means that Grandpa is dead and he has broken down into tears several times since finding out.

My 4-year-old never really cried, but seems to understand that Grandpa is in Heaven.  She became somber when we first told her, but we really focused on the fact that Grandpa was no longer sick or in pain and that we would see him again one day.  This has been enough for her, and I think she understands.

My 3-year-old never really gave any sign of misunderstanding.  She seemed to be in the same boat as my 4-year-old.  That was until we were at the grave site.  The services were all concluded and the family was hanging around talking, consoling each other and not wanting to leave.  My little girl was looking at the casket, and then turned to my wife and asked when Grandpa was coming out. My wife explained the situation again, and my sweet little girl truly became sad for the first time.

How do you explain death to children who don’t quite understand such concepts?  I am sure the next time we are at Grandma’s we will get the question of, “Where’s Grandpa?” Another question is, what will come first: their understanding of death or their forgetting what Grandpa was really like?

My side of the family comes from decidedly non-Viking-like stock. We have a good bit of southern woods Native American (those are Indians) mixed in, along with (I’m assuming) some sort of pale European genetic material. Unlike my wife’s side of the family, who are endowed with a dollop of hefty Germanic breeding, myself and the rest of my family are little people for the most part.

But we’re spunky and that makes up for a lot.

Yesterday MLI (my little introvert) came home from daycare with an injury report and this time he wasn’t the victim. Instead, he was the cause. Or was he?

As is always the case with these things, what happened leading up to the “incident” depends largely on whom you talk to. My son’s teacher told Careermom that an older boy was being some sort of undisclosed “mean” to my son and in retaliation, my son bit him. The “victim’s” teacher says my son was just being mean. MLI hasn’t bitten anyone since he was a toddler and he’s four now, so something unusual must have happened to cause him to do this.

Of course he got “the talk” and he lost a privilege or two at home, but throughout the evening, both CareerMom and I questioned him about the incident, and the story, at least from his viewpoint, unfolded something like this:

MLI and some of his friends are often on the playground at the same time as a couple of older classes. There are some older boys who, for whatever reason, gravitate around my son and his friends, probably because my son and his homeys are usually playing “Superfriends” while these older kids are playing “Power Rangers.” Now, for some reason, I have a serious aversion to the Power Rangers, as do the parents of MLI’s best friend, so they don’t play Power Rangers. But this doesn’t stop the older kids from coming over and attempting to rope the younger ones into playing. And in doing so, they call them “Boom Rangers.” Yeah, I don’t get it either, but...whatever.  The point is, the older kids frequently bother the younger kids and this isn’t the first time we’ve heard of there being a problem.

Yesterday while my son was on the swing, this other boy stood nearby trying to get him off the swing and kept calling him a “Boom Ranger.” There was also some kind of “...sneaking up on me and I don’t like that...” going on. This went on until somehow the two boys got really close together and MLI bit the older boy. End of story.

But I have a couple of problems with this:
1. My son bit an older boy? Hmm, that in itself is suspect. I mean, I don’t doubt that it happened; I doubt the “who’s at fault?” theory.
2. Why was this older boy stalking my child and where were the playground monitors?
3. My son typically avoids confrontation. If something is going on he doesn’t like, he attempts to flee (”...so we can fight another day!")

Looking back at the times when I was little when I did something notoriously stupid, like pushing Ryan Smith into the lockers in 5th grade after I’d finally taken enough of his crap, I know that I’d reacted out of sheer frustration, not meanness. It wasn’t premeditated; I simply reacted out of emotion. And you know what? It worked. Ryan and I became close friends, which most dads know is usually what happens in these situations.

Obviously, I can’t condone biting under any circumstances; but while I disagree with the method, I don’t begrudge him the sentiment, or for that matter, the act itself. Had the bite been a shove, or even a hit, as long as it was in self-defense, I’m OK with it.

Childhood psychologists worldwide are shaking their heads at me right now (I’m sure many read this blog), but folks I’m sorry, I’m not going to beat my kid up for defending himself.

But I’m curious to hear from other dads, and moms. How do you deal with these situations?

As it turns out, MLE (My Little Extrovert) was bitten yesterday, so as a whole, we came out even. The universe is pretty good like that isn’t it?