Fun & Games

The other day I was standing in line at the bank waiting to deposit a check. Off to the side there was this little boy, maybe three, hopping along a row of padded chairs. He was having a blast, giggling and drooling and content with his own game as his mother, I presume, was with the teller. 

Judging by the relaxed look on Mom's face, she was enjoying her mini vacation. Dad was in charge of the kid. And the kid's hopping was quickly turning into leaping. Dad stepped in, nicely, trying to get things under control. He was quickly steamrolled. 

The kid got back to his game. Poor Dad shuffled his feet and looked around, maybe for help or reinforcements, an instruction manual, some sort of guidance as people applied for mortgages and fought off pesky overdraft charges. The kid added some song to his game of leap chairs. 

Finally, Dad asserted himself. He took a seat in one of the chairs, cutting the kid off mid-hop. Kid wasn’t having it. He pointed to the floor. “Off, Daddy,” he said with practiced authority. Dad got up. 

I smiled. Because I’ve been there before.

The kid got hopping again. Dad glanced over to the counter before trying to corral the kid. He picked the kid up, tried the helicopter maneuver that i know from experience should not be attempted after a meal. One time around and the kid let go with a wail. He threw his hat on the floor and pointed to the chairs.

Dad tried, okay? He pointed out the window, Look, a truck! A car! A tree! But the kid only wanted his four-seater jungle gym. More climbing, more failed attempts to play the sitting game. Finally, I was called over to deposit my check. When I was finished, Dad had gone with the nuclear option. He and the kid sat together on the chair, watching a video on Daddy’s phone.

It was a valiant effort, Dad.

It’s hard to be fun dad and stern dad. Sometimes the fun gets too fun and a cute wrestling match turns into a cage match and things spiral out of control. A sudden shift of gears usually has bad results. I know because I've been having dilemma since the kid turned one and began manipulating me. 

I want to be fair. I want to be fun. I want to be respected. Yet...I want to be sane

I too have gone through the public meltdowns. My kid has had them too. And to someone who sees his worst behavior would never know that I have a good kid on my hands. A bright, highly active, highly imaginative, highly uh, strong-willed kid on my hands. 

My kid knows when I’m bluffing. And maybe worse, he knows that I’m a sucker…

We can’t be silly all of the time. Even if being silly is my default setting. It's declaring those silly times and serious times that's hard for us. My son is not quite five, and even if he is a bright little guy he doesn't understand yet that there are times for silliness and times for well, banking.   

I’ve seen him at school, where the structure does him well. And sometimes I come home from work and he's coloring or even looking through a book and he sees me and suddenly it's a good idea to stick out his tongue or gouge my eyes out or maybe just hit me over the head with his sword. (I'm kidding of course--he'd never stick out his tongue at me). I'll ask Mom if he's been like this all day and she'll give me little smile and that look that means, Would it make you feel better if I lied?

So we have fun. Only sometimes the fun gets out of hand. It’s stopping the fun, or reigning in the fun that I’m no good at. I mean, who wants to be the party pooper. Ha Poop! No seriously. I need to be mature about this...

Lately I’ve been trying to sneak in some teaching moments to go with the chaos. He’s beginning to read, so we implement letters and sounds with our silly songs. I don’t so much mind if he makes poop jokes, so long as he can spell them.