One time my little girls were on a playground and the oldest decided to make an imaginary birthday cake. She was so serious about it, so thoughtful about each decoration. It was touching at first, but then things got painful when she took her prized “cake,” carried it to a ten-year-old boy, and said, “Here’s a birthday cake I made for you.”
She did it. She actually did it. My daughter rode a bike for the first time last weekend. I figured it would take a while before she figured it out; but it was more like three minutes, and then she was off. I kept my hand on her back as she peddled, but then she started saying, “Daddy let me go! Daddy let me go!” She had no idea how hard that was for me to do.
As my little kids get older, I’m reflecting more on what my mother did right in raising me. And you know something I appreciate about her parenting style? She did not corner me. There were times when I wasn’t being my best self, or I was hiding something, or I was struggling with something that I didn’t want to talk to her about – and I knew that she knew it.
The other morning, I decided to read the crucifixion story to my two little girls, hoping they would somehow understand how serious and heartbreaking it was. Although you’d think that would be hard for a three and a five-year-old, kids can surprise you.
I think one of the most valuable messages a kid can hear is “no,” followed by an explanation (if the parent has time). Plenty of kids grow up with yes-men as parents, and after the child grows up and enters the adult world, it’s a confusing existence. Their parents dropped the ball in refusing to set up boundaries, so the adult child has to be schooled by circumstances, consequences, and people.
When I was ten years old, my family and I did something that was rare for us: we went on vacation. During that weeklong trip, someone gave me a gift; and believe it or not, I’m still holding onto it today. I’ll never let it go.
The other day, I was walking through my neighborhood with my two girls, who are three and four years old, when we passed an older, serious looking gentleman. “Hello!” they both said, waving. He looked over at them and kept walking.
When I signed up for Facebook in 2008, I saw it as a way to connect with old friends and keep up with the self-affirming things everyone was posting about themselves. What I did not expect was that Facebook would become a place where people worked through life-and-death issues. But then Nan Taylor died.
The other night, my three-year-old daughter sat down to eat, and she led the prayer. It started out as a simple word of gratitude for what she was about to eat, but the way she ended the prayer struck me.
Although my three-year-old daughter, Renee, is improving, for the better part of her life, she has antagonized her four-year-old sister, Daniela, quite a lot. She will do things like walk up to her sister and gratuitously punch her or sneak up and pull a pillow out from under her sister’s head just for fun.
I have a confession to make: before my wife and I had children, I didn’t read one parenting book. I know, I know – I’m such a bad father. However, believe it or not, three years after the birth of my youngest child, I finally read a book for new parents, and the reason is simple: the author interviewed me for it and included a couple of essays I’ve written. So basically, I read the book to see how I sounded in it.
A couple of Saturdays ago, my wife had some errands to run, so I ended up spending most of the day with my daughters, who are three and four. One thing that surprised me was how much I enjoyed myself, which may sound strange to those who know how much I love my kids.
Hey, single men out there, I want to tell you a story. A couple of Saturdays ago, I was doing Daddy Daycare at the house with my two daughters when I asked my three-year-old a question.
This past weekend, my wife had to be away for two days, which meant I was in charge of managing Daddy Daycare for a three and four-year-old. I figured that two days might be a challenge, but I was up for it. I was not.
Today, my family and I were out in public when my youngest daughter suddenly said, “I need to go potty, I need to go potty, I need to go potty.” After a brief negotiation between my wife and me over who would take responsibility for hunting down a bathroom, I took my daughter by the hand and walked a couple of blocks until I found a potty – but it was too late.
Joshua Rogers 