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It looks like this topic, “Exasperate your Kids” has become a series. You might recall that I started out on Tuesday with a verse from the Bible that says, “Fathers do not exasperate your children”. By exasperate, I mean that we men seem to have an easy tendency to frustrate, even to anger, our kids if we are not careful with our tone, words, and actions.

We are not talking about America’s pastime, here. When I say “majoring in the minors” I am talking about the way we can make a mountain out of a molehill. Sometimes I draw a line in the sand where (in retrospect) I shouldn’t have, but then must stand my ground even though I would rather not. We need to carefully consider which issues we really want to elevate to Major League status. Sometimes in my rush to correct some little flaw in my child’s behavior I build a mountain out of it to the point that MY reaction to his or her “problem” becomes the real issue.

Here is an example of what I am thinking; the other day I was at home all day with the kids while the wife was away at a seminar, and I very nearly blew a gasket over something my wife just takes in stride: Picking Up After Yourself.

The older boys had prepared themselves a nutritious lunch of boxed mac and cheese and grilled cheese sammiches with powdered lemonade to wash it all down. They tore open boxes, opened milk, unwrapped cheese, strained macaronis, pulled bread out of wrapper, used many pans and utensils and generally left a huge mess. Then they ate at various locations of the house.

After filling their stomachs, they continued on with whatever it was they were doing prior to initiating a nuclear mac and cheese sammich with lemonade dust explosion all over the house: Playing Guitar Hero or lighting matches or dressing up the Labradors in their sister’s clothes or filling balloons with acetylene and lighting them or whatever. I am not really sure because all I could see was that there was a HUGE mess left for someone to clean up (someone=someone else. Usually mom or dad in this case). I was ready to lay down the law. I wanted to make up some kind of rule to prevent rude kids from unfairly imposing upon their parents to perpetually clean up in the wake of their lives. I started to get into my Dad’s ranting again mode with one of the kids, but fortunately stopped before I drew tears. This time I just let it go and cleaned up the mess myself.

In earlier years I would not have let this thing slide. I would have gathered up all of the messy offenders and stood by while they cleaned up the entire kitchen. I would not have stopped chiding them until it was cleaned to my satisfaction. There would be tears. There would be frustration. And invariably, there would be further extensions of punishment because tempers would flare.

I know many families where Rules are more important than Relationship. I admit that I tend toward rule making rather than relationship making. My wife is quite the opposite and would suffer many personal indignities if that is what it took to grow a relationship. I suppose you could say we balance each other, but I seriously want more of the grace she expresses.

So back to the point of Majoring in the Minors- We all do it sometimes. We make an issue of nonissues and regret it later. We take a minor league player-Cleanliness- and promote him to the Big Leagues then get all bent out of shape when he doesn’t perform as expected.

I will resist the urge to make a list of all the Minor League stuff that we dads might find to promote. That’s too easy. Instead I want to give handles to this issue. Ready?

Ask yourself this one question when dealing in frustrating issues: “Will my response deepen the relationship or thicken the rulebook?”

It really is that easy. Don’t proceed with that thought of discipline or cross words until you run it through the “relationship/rulebook” filter. Minor leaguers are not worth placing on the mound. Don’t go there.

If I convert too many minor leaguers into majors, it just dilutes the importance of the majors to my kids. I have got to decide which issues are worth taking a stand for. Certainly Life/Safety is major league. Morals, ethics and values are major league, too.

This is a great topic for your next date night. When you are alone with your wife, bring up the topic of “majoring in the minors” and get her input. It is quite likely that she has some pretty good insight.

Blessings

Technorati Tags: raising kids

Growing up, it was a sin to get caught being wrong. Nobody actually took the time to codify this, but we all knew instinctively that being “right” was a high moral value. We all, kids and parents alike, fought dirty: we would bicker, engage in logical error, misstate facts, slur character,filibuster, or even change the nature of the debate in order to “win” every argument. My wife got a good taste of this early on in our marriage. We lived about an hour away from my parents, and we were going in to their house for a visit. When we got there, my Mom said something to my wife about the rainstorm we just (supposedly) had at our house. “It hasn’t rained in weeks” my wife replied.

“But it said on the news that you were getting rain”, Mom insisted. “It was raining.”

“Well, I sure haven’t seen any rain in a while, but maybe I missed it.”

“The TV news said you were getting rain, and I just don’t see how they could be wrong about something like this. They have cameras.”

“I didn’t watch the news today, but there was no rain at our house.”

“I DID rain. I am sure of it.”

“Alright Mom, you are right. It was raining.”

And that was all it took. Mom had to be right. She would not back down about something as innocuous as the weather of a location 60 miles away from her. She needed to feel “right” about it and it didn’t matter to her that she put another crimp in her relationship with her daughter-in-law. Right Rules. And neither could she see how foolish “looking right” made her appear.

Mom had no idea that needing to be right was driving a wedge in our relationship.

And I fear that the “need to be right” thing is genetic. I have passed it down to our kids (and, NO, the gene didn’t skip a generation; I just am not in the mood to embarrass myself today by telling of the many ways I have been humbled over the years).

During our vacation last week, our oldest son (a tinkerer) was attempting something with the Seadoo motor that was going to, IMHO, burn up the motor. I asked him to stop and told him why (he was creating a lean condition for you motorheads). He insisted that I didn’t know what I was talking about and what he was attempting was safe.

I decided not to argue. If he needed to be “right” to the point that he wouldn’t get to ride the ‘doo for the rest of the vacation due to a burnt up motor, then I was willing for him to “win”. Of course, the repair bill would still be in my name, but I figured this might be a good lesson about rightness. He did quit tweaking the motor, but still wouldn’t concede the point. Progress I suppose.

As a dad, have you considered what your “needing to be right” looks like to your children? It is quite possible that I exasperate (frustrate, anger) my kids every time they see me ignore or cover up my wrongness. They might even feel that I endorse a double standard when I am seen breaking a rule that they typically get punished for (like lying).

I think one of the best and most profound attitudes we can teach our kids is that of humility. When I voluntarily go to a child and ask their forgiveness for something I have said or done to them, they see that relationship is more valuable to me than rightness. Acting humble (not needing to be right) becomes easier for a child when they see it modeled by their dad. Needing to be right all the time tells the kids that I value my self-esteem more than their feelings.

Relationship trumps “rightness”. Is that true in your home? This was the message our heavenly Father sent when His innocent son was nailed to a cross. He values a relationship with us to such a degree that He willingly gave up all the rights of “Godness” so that he could walk humbly with us in human flesh. He didn’t seek to rule over us with an iron fist. He sought to walk with us, side by side.

Care to take another Manmail Challenge? Think of just one way you have acted or talked inappropriately recently, then go talk to your children about it. No lectures needed at this time- just confess your humanity to them. Express your heartfelt desire to do better. And remind them of your love for them, even when they struggle with “rightness”.

Blessings

Technorati Tags: raising kids

“Fathers, do not exasperate your children…” Ephesians 6:4

The Bible can really get to the heart of a matter, if you choose to look. It looks to to me like this is a message aimed primarily at dads. Mom wasn’t mentioned; neither was anyone else. Just dads. It looks like maybe we have special powers to exasperate (frustrate, anger) our kids.

The influence of a dad on his children is far more profound than most of us realize. I wonder if we take for granted the negative feelings we can generate in our kids by expecting them to act perfectly? Even when we are trying our hardest to be our best, we can unknowingly put pressure on them to try to be someone they think we want them to be, and not the person God built them to be. Sometimes kids fake it in order to please a parent.

As a dad, I want nothing less than for my kids to have life a little better or easier than me. When I see them, for instance, not trying their hardest on the ballfield or procrastinating their chores I naturally project those “shortcomings” into their career future and assume the worst. I figure that, if they aren’t giving it their best now, how will they ever learn to excel at whatever it is they will do in the future? So I withhold approval whenever I sense they aren’t “measuring up” to my preset standards for them.

But I don’t think that just being there on the soccer field warrants a trophy, either. The best team deserves to get that reward. It is good for the others who didn’t get that #1 trophy to strive to earn it next season. Kids don’t get exasperated by being #2 on the field or in the classroom. They expect that others will sometimes perform better.

But at home, dads have the special ability to drive their kids insane by expecting too much of them. We exasperate our kids when we withhold a compliment or praise until they perform perfectly. Of course, being kids, they rarely do perform perfectly. If a child’s weekly chore is to mow the lawn, what does it cost me to say “good job” even if he didn’t make the herringbone pattern that I like? Why do I choose to point out the couple of weeds he missed in the flowerbeds instead of complimenting on the other 98% of good work?

When my daughter brings home an “A” paper, do I point out how she could have made it an “A+”?

Do I point out the misspellings on my Father’s Day cards?

Do I EVER use critical words or tone of voice towards my children?

Here is the money question, and one I hope every dad will etch into his brain; Do you want your kids to grow up and leave home thinking they could never please their father?

When I allow myself to exasperate my kids, I send them a real clear message that I will not fully love them until they perform as expected. Do I want my kids to feel they must earn my affection? Or should they be free to experience unconditional love from me?

I want my kids to know that, even if they are not the best at something, they are still good and worthy people. I need them to have a clear understanding that their dad does not love them for their performance, but rather loves them just because they are his. I don’t need to promote performance anxiety at home; they will get enough of that throughout life.

If this post has caused you to think even a little bit about exasperation, I would suggest using your wife as a sounding board. Ask her if she sees you exasperating your kids by expecting perfection in them. She may be able to help you find the loving words you really want to say instead of the words that frustrate. Ask her to be honest to the point of hurting your feelings if necessary, because you are a dad who wants his kids to know unconditional love better than he did as a child.

Blessings

Technorati Tags: raising kids

The raccoons were at it again night before last. See this post for more. Rummaging around the yard, picking fruit off the trees, snacking on dogfood, bathing in the swimming pool. Pooping on the patio. The usual raccoon stuff.

If they are gonna dine at my place, the least they could do would be to leave their turds on the grass alongside all the unscooped Labrador poops.

I pride myself on being able to sleep through most anything. Earthquakes. Baby cries. That sound one makes as they are sprinting to the toilet with food poisoning. Police helicopters overhead. My own gas. Raccoons banging on the patio slider.

Years of practice have fine-tuned my tune-out ability, which also includes knowing which sound(s) need immediate attention. Such is the panicky tone when my relatively reasonable spouse is awakened by large rodents. (I know raccoons are not rodents at all, but at 3:30am, staring through the window into the darkness: anything not a dog is a rodent). She inflects my name in such a way as to convey that her internal fear monster is about to irrationally pummel her husband to goo if he doesn’t DO SOMETHING. NOW.

Our usual routine is to get to bed somewhere around 11:00pm, and I typically get up at 5ish. Six hours sleep is not too bad for me. But the masked critters’ 3:30 visits are reducing my sleep time by an hour and a half. Not good. Especially not good if papa is cutting out nookie just so he can get the extra half hour (an hour on a good night;) ) of needed rest.

Time for action, if there is going to be time for action.

The next morning, after she got to sleep in, I asked the lovely and accommodating Postmistress to give the local animal shelter a call, just to see if they would come out and deal with the unwanted guests. I figured they would just come out and trap the critters and haul them away somewhere.

The first guy she talks to at the City says, “Yep they are a problem lately. Most of ‘em carry rabies, too. If I was you I would trap them and release them somewhere else. Sorry, but the City can’t come out to do anything for ya. We are way too understaffed to be dealing with wild animals. Good luck.”

Rodents with rabies! She is on the warpath now.

Next call is to the ASPCA. They would be happy to come out and haul off the bandidtos, except that we live within the City limits. Different story if we lived in the neighboring town or in the county. “Well what would you suggest we do?” my wife asks. “Euthanize ‘em. Trap them and kill them. Don’t just drop those guys off at the city limits and make them someone else’s problem.” Says the nice animal guy at the ASPCA. ” And once they figure out that there is food somewhere: good luck keeping them away. They will keep coming back.”

“Kill ‘em” seemed a bit extreme to my gentle wife, so she calls the local animal people back and gets a different person this time. Her advice was just as precious as the “Kill ‘em” guy’s was.  She was, shall we say delicately: earthy in her approach to uninvited masked guests.

“Leave those poor creatures alone! Don’t you know that you are living in their habitat?!” was the animal lady’s opening salvo.

My wife calmly replies, “Sure they are cute and all, but a raccoon ripped the face off of our friends’ small dog. I just don’t think I want to risk my dogs or children’s smooth complexion. Besides, they carry rabies and I saw what happened to Old Yeller “.

“Ma’am”. ” May I remind you that you are a guest in those raccoons’ environment?” You just need to learn to live with them. They won’t do you any harm if you will just stay out of their way. Try to remove those things that are attracting them to your yard.”

Well, that sounds reasonable, except for a few little details. “How about the pool parties they have most nights? Would it be best for them if we kept the jacuzzi heated, too?”

“Ma’am.” “You must cover your pool.” “It is as simple as that. Covering your pool will keep them away.”

“Riiiiiight . . . Mr. El Cheapo husband is going to invest several thousand dollars into raccoon-proofing our pool . . .”

“What about my vegetables and herbs? They seem to be attracted to those, too.”

“Ma’am.” “I SAID:” “Remove everything that might be drawing the raccoons into your yard and that includes fruits and vegetables. Make them inaccessible to the animals or remove them from your yard.”

“So I am to construct a mesh cage around most of the plants in my yard. How attractive to make my yard look like a prison. And that makes it so handy to pick my tomatoes as they ripen. Seriously, I can’t imagine that the expense of all this fencing could justify the savings of growing our own veggies. Does the animal shelter also sell Concertina wire?”

“Ma’am.” “Ma’am.” “You are not to do anything to relocate or harm those creatures or otherwise modify their behavior. If you will just take away any reason for them to visit your yard, eventually they will leave you alone.”

“You mentioned our fruit trees.”

“Ma’am.” “Of course you can’t have any fruit around your house. Many animals are drawn to ripening fruit. You must pick it all before it ripens. Then the raccoons won’t have reason to come near.”

“So let me get this straight . . . In order for me to deal naturally with this problem, I must: A) Keep our dogs locked inside:. B) Not let our kids play in the backyard: C) Buy an expensive pool cover:D) Enclose our edible plants in steel cages: E) Not allow our oranges, limes, avocados, peaches and blackberries to ripen into edible food. Is that what you are suggesting I do to keep this family of raccoons out of our yard?”

“Ma’am.” “This is no laughing matter.” “It is not as bad as you are trying to make it out to be. It is your responsibility to treat those innocent animals properly. You cannot trap them in cages. We will not accept wild animals here at the Shelter.”

“Does the Animal Shelter also rent out small bulldozers?”

“Ma’am.” “Of course we do not want you to destroy any plants! Just take the proper precautions and wild animals will not venture into your yard. It really is quite simple.” “Ma’am.”  ” And remember: the Animal Shelter does not accept wild animals. You must deal with this humanely.”

“Did I mention that the ASPCA guy said that we should euthanize them?”

“MA’AAAAAAAAAM.”  “You CANNOT DO such a thing!”  “Ma’am”. “If you will just do everything I have told you to do then the little raccoons will not bother you. They will have no reason to come into your yard. It really is very simple and there should be no reason to resort to harming them.”

“So your suggestion is to make them someone else’s problem, then.”

“Ma’am.” “That is not at all what I meant! These are natural creatures and we all need to remember that we are living within their environment. We need to work with them to modify their behavior so that we can all get along.”

“Soooo . . . Will you guarantee that, if we implement all the measures you suggested, we will never have raccoons in our yard?”

“Ma’am.” “Of course I cannot guarantee any such thing. These are wild animals we are talking about here. They are curious creatures, and it would be in their nature to want to explore everywhere that might have food. The backyards of humans is a likely place in their minds. Of course they will want to exercise their natural curiosity. Of course they will continue to forage for food.”

“Sounds to me like we just went in a big circle. You are telling me to expend great effort for a solution that, at best will transfer my problem to another family, and at worst not work at all.”

“I think I will tell my husband that you agree with the Kill ‘em guy over at the ASPCA. He will take care of it from there.”

“Ma’am.” “Aaaaarrrrgh.”  CLICK.

And the Shelter lady hung up.

Whew! Sorry it took me so long to get to my question. This was just tooooo juicy. And it really happened (basically) the way I recounted it.

So I am interested in YOUR opinion: How should I handle my little “situation”?

Do I go with the nuclear option or the earthy option? Or maybe there is a compromise?

I am interested to hear from you: I don’t care whether you have real experience with ‘coons or if you have never seen one before in your life. Just tell me what you think I should do to get my nights back.

Blessings

Technorati Tags: fun stuff, marriage, raising kids