A Hideable Feast

Ernest Hemingway once wrote: “Hunger is good discipline and you learn from it.” I had no intention of using hunger as a tool to teach my son a lesson, but it certainly made an impact on him this week!

On Monday, Justin asked me to make him a “special lunch” for school. The school provides lunch on a daily basis, but I think Justin was feeling a little neglected because GWE was out of town and I was spending a little more time with the baby. I happily agreed to make him the best lunch he’d ever had. (Yes, I did not realize it at the time, but I was about to set a high standard which would be impossible to maintain over time.)

With Garrett supervising from his high chair, I proceeded to make Justin a smoked turkey and lean roast beef sandwich on Milton’s bread with a little Thousand Island dressing (instead of mustard or mayo), a spinach salad with feta cheese and cherry tomatoes (sesame dressing on the side), 2 peaches from grandma’s garden, and a Danimal’s Smoothie. As a final touch, I put a “special” note on the top. I packed everything in his lunch box with enough ice packs to take down the Titanic and then we all left for school.

After dropping Garrett off in his room, Justin and I proceeded to his classroom. As we got to the kids’ gate, Justin ran up to it in an effort to hold it open for me. Unfortunately, there was another child holding the gate for his mother at the same time. The children exchanged a few words….and then fists began to fly. I quickly grabbed Justin by the shoulder and pulled him aside. I got down to his eye level and in an angry tone I told him that I was not ok with him hitting and that we had talked about this many, many times before – and then I added the final, “I’m very disappointed in you.” Justin had been in too many physical confrontations recently and it needed to stop. I was frustrated and felt that some sort of punishment was necessary.

So – I told him that I was taking away the lunch I had made for him. He would have to make do with the lunch the school provided. In that moment, Justin was destroyed. He begged and pleaded to keep the lunch, but I said “no.” He cried and he tantrumed…and I still said, “no.” I instructed him to go and play on the playground while I spoke with his teacher. With tears in his eyes, he sulked off.

When he was out of earshot, I told his teacher what had happened and about the punishment. But, then I explained that I didn’t feel right completely taking away his lunch. (No punishment should last 5 hours.) So instead, I asked her for a place to hide it in the classroom and instructed her to give it back to him at lunch. I felt satisfied with this. He would feel the sting of losing something he wanted (temporarily) and I felt like he was still getting a healthy lunch. Justin continued to cry as I left, but I knew that it would all be alright in a few hours.

At 6:00pm, I arrived back at the school to get the kids. My first stop was to get Justin. While he was preoccupied outside, I collected his belongings and signed him out. Realizing that his lunchbox was not in his cubby, I went over to other area in the room where lunchboxes and jackets were stored. Still, no lunchbox. All of a sudden, a pit grew in my stomach. I went back to the cabinet where I was instructed to “hide” his lunchbox and there it was….UNOPENED. His lunch was still inside!!

I stormed out of his classroom and up to his teacher while holding the lunchbox. I saw her face go pale and her jaw drop.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot!!” She continued to explain that she took a break during lunch and forgot to tell the other teacher. She kept apologizing and I kept reassuring her that it was fine – accidents happen. But, I’m pretty sure my body language betrayed me and the truth was, I was pissed!! Justin saw me from across the playground and then he saw the lunchbox. He ran up to me and gave me a big hug. “Daddy! You brought my lunch back!” I bit my tongue and lied. “Yea buddy, I heard you had a much better day, so I brought it back.”

He told me how sorry he was for hitting his friend and that he had apologized to him later in the day. Clearly, he understood that his actions had consequences, but all I felt was guilt. As we got into the car, I told him that I was also sorry and I unwrapped the sandwich per his request. He happily ate half of it on the way home while humming with happiness.

By the way – everything was still ice cold thanks to my Syracuse-learned, Igloo, ice-packing abilities! GO ORANGE!!

Go To Your Room

"To Kill a Mockingbird"

Yesterday afternoon, I terminated my relationship with an important client. It was a very difficult decision to make, but it became an inevitability. It wasn’t because he wasn’t talented, employable, or recognizable. On the contrary, he was all of those things and more. I ultimately ended our working relationship due to his uncontrollably bad behavior. I had great hopes for the next stage in his career and I had worked tirelessly to help him achieve his goals. But now, as I sit here sifting through the rubble of this disaster…I’m completely exhausted from weeks of negotiating on this client’s behalf, which have now gone to waste. And, I am disheartened by my failure to recognize and aid a client who was on a downward spiral of his own doing.

There is a lesson here and I’m still trying to figure out what it is. Many questions keep coming to mind – What steps can I take to prevent my sons from becoming men who are not ruled nor ruined by their own demons? How do I impress upon them that their actions (both good and bad) will not only affect them, but greatly impact those around them? And, how do I instill enough confidence in them so that they never have to rely on their vices for strength?

I’ve tried to show Justin “right” from “wrong”, encouraged him to demonstrate acts of kindness and compassion, and I’ve demanded that Justin show respect to all those around him. Whenever Justin has misbehaved, he has been reprimanded. Even at this young age, he understands that his actions had consequences. If he did something wrong, he got sent to his room. Yet, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I don’t have the answers I’m looking for.

So, here is a note for “Future Garrett” and “Future Justin”:

Boys – Sometimes life is going to be harder than you expected it to be. It’s at those moments when you will be judged by your actions. It’s easy to be “good” when everything is going well and it’s very easy to be “bad” when the dark clouds come and nothing is going the way you expected. There will be moments when you want to run away from your problems and there will be other times when you may want to seek solace where it should not be sought. I promise you that if you stay true to your word, put your faith and trust in those people who love and support you, and stay honest  – you will never be judged poorly.

As for my former client…he is not my child. I cannot “ground” him or send him to his room without supper. I can simply say, “thank you.” Without his actions, I would not have begun to think about how to shape my boys into honorable men.

The Real Lord of the Flies

As you can see, Garrett is a natural born leader. Here he is at daycare, ruling over his minions. He has a commanding presence no one can ignore. Garrett is an infant among infants!

Little girls want to be near him and little boys want to be him! He is a fair and compassionate leader, yet firm (under all the “pudgy” baby fat) when it comes to demanding attention. Those of us who have studied Garrett’s leadership techniques still marvel at how effective the art of slamming our feet down repeatedly will motivate others to do our bidding.

His best selling book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People…into Changing Your Diaper” has outsold the Bible. Whether it’s drool from his mouth or poop from his butt, Garrett is always producing.

All hail Garrett!

All I Want for Passover is My Two Front Teeth

It is said that we celebrate Passover to commemorate the story of the Exodus from Egypt. During the Seder, there is a lot of praying, a lot of Manischewitz, and the occasional plague. This year’s Seder was unlike any other for two reasons: 1) We discovered that “teething” should be added to the list of deadly plagues. And, 2) I almost considered reenacting Plague #10 myself by killing our first born due to his uncharacteristically obnoxious behavior. What started as such a promising and exciting celebration ended in frustration, tears, and delicious left-overs.

We arrived at the home of MOGWE and FOGWE at the time they had requested. GWE and I unloaded the car and brought in bags of clothes for the kids, toys, playmates for the baby, food for the baby, etc. Anything and everything we could have needed, we brought – just in case. It looked like we were moving in. Justin was happy to see his Uncle Ethan and everyone proceeded to move into the den for appetizers and drinks.

FOGWE surprised Justin with a remote controlled car. I immediately told Justin that he could play with it, but to be careful and not drive it over his baby brother who was lying on the play mat in the middle of the room. Justin handed me the car and asked me to put batteries into it. I proceeded to quickly load the car with batteries, placed it on the ground, flicked on the remote….and then I drove it directly over Garrett!!  (Yes – I am a wonderful role model.)

What you should know is that Garrett has been teething recently. There is saliva (“slime”) everywhere. It’s on his clothes, his chin, and his fingers. He swallows it so it’s in his belly and comes out with his poop, ie diarrhea. GWE and I decided to pick him up and place him on my lap so that he could see the Passover Appetizer action! He smiled, saw the chopped liver and gefilte fish, and then blasted 4 oz of a baby formula/saliva mix all over my pants and GWE’s pants. We were “slimed” for the evening. There is nothing like having hot-and-then-ice-cold puke on your clothes for the rest of the night!

Then, we passed him off to MOGWE, who gave him a few more ounces of formula. Garrett proceeded to thank her by spitting up a few more ounces all over her blouse, pants, and shoes. She passed him back to us and left to get changed again. In the meantime, we were struggling to soothe Garrett out of discomfort due to his teething.

We all then proceeded to the dinner table. GWE had Garrett to her right and I sat diagonally across from Justin. As FOGWE attempted to lead the table in ceremony and prayer, he simply could not be heard over the sounds of my five month old babbling out of pain and my five year old being silly at the table. Justin knows when he has a captive audience and that dinner table became his playground. He would not be quiet, he would not sit still, and he would not follow directions…..so, he was being a five year old.

After a VERY abbreviated ceremony, GWE decided to try and put Garrett to sleep in the crib. At this point, we were both starting to get worn down due to Garrett’s discomfort and Justin’s behavior. After a few minutes, we decided to check on him. He was as awake and as pissed as ever.

As the traditional Matzo Ball soup was being served, GWE and I made the executive decision to bring Garrett back to the table to give him his solids. I sat in GWE’s seat to feed Garrett, GWE took my seat, and then Garrett began to devour whatever I put into his mouth. It only took about 10 minutes for Garrett to finish his food and for our food to be served. However, this was 10 long minutes and Justin was nowhere to be found.

I decided to pass the baby back to GWE and I went searching for Justin. Unfortunately, I found him. As I opened the bathroom door, I discovered Justin with his hands in his hair and his hair soaking wet. There was water EVERYWHERE! He had wet down his head and used the liquid hand soap as shampoo. “JUSTIN!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!” I demanded to know. “I’m cleaning my hair, daddy,” he replied. I grabbed the towel behind him, tried to dry his soapy hair, gave up, and then marched him back to the table. He knew I was very upset, but I was exhausted and tired of him not listening. As we got closer and closer to the table, he begged to not be seen. My patience had ended and I tried to drag him to the table – kicking and screaming. MOGWE stepped in and decided to take Justin back to the bathroom to clean him up. I sat down and began to quietly eat my chicken.

Honestly, the rest of the evening was kind of a blur. I remember dessert and Justin finding the Afikoman. But, that’s about it.

As we drove home in silence, I thought about the evening and how it actually was reminiscent of a real Exodus. We had come to the grandparents’ house in hopes of good food and shelter, but my two little plagues practically destroy everything. And then, we were free to leave.

Law & Order: SDU (Stupid Daddy Unit)

“Punishment” has become a recent topic in our house. When I was growing up, there were three “go to” punishments that my parents doled out: 1) Taking away toys, 2) Taking away television privileges, and 3) “Go to your room.” I currently have an immaculate collection of original G.I. Joes, Transformers, He-Man action figures, and Hot Wheels because I was rarely allowed to play with them. They are currently in my garage in air-tight, hermetically-sealed containers. If I hold onto them for another fifteen years, they will be valuable enough to pay for my kids’ college tuition!

And, I’m a child of the 80’s – we didn’t have DVRs. If you were not allowed to watch television and you missed something that aired, you were screwed. It was never going to air again! Missed that very special episode of “Family Ties?” Too bad. Miss the episode of “Miami Vice” where Calderone finally gets caught? Your loss.

And finally, “being sent to your room” really was a punishment. We didn’t have televisions or stereos in our rooms. All we had were four walls, a bed, and a couple of books.

I have a theory that it was easier for my parents to punish me as a child than it is for me to punish my son…and here’s why: My parents were not interested in the things I was interested in, so to take them away didn’t really affect them. On the other hand, I really like the things that Justin likes!! I like Television and Spongebob and Transformers and Legos (except at night) and Annoying Orange and Angry Birds, and Batman, and….you get the idea.

So, when Justin puts us in a position to take away his television privileges, it’s actually ME who suffers!! I like TV! I worked hard all day and I want to watch something stupid! Hell – part of my job is to watch television!! One night, we told Justin that as part of his punishment he was not allowed to watch television. He cried, threw a tantrum, and stormed off to his room. Five minutes later, I walked into his room only to discover him watching movies on my iPad. I was pissed! “Justin!! What do you think you’re doing??” I said. “Mommy and I said ‘no TV’.” He yelled back at me “IT’S NOT TV, DADDY!!! IT’S AN IPAD!!”

When Justin becomes defiant or breaks the rules, we must take away a toy. But it is still ME who suffers because that’s one less toy Justin and I can play with. And “go to your room” is not a punishment when your room has more toys than “Toys R Us!!” I can’t remember the last time I saw the floor in Justin’s room. It is covered in stuffed animals, Lego pieces (like it’s a minefield), Squinkies, and other random toy pieces.

So here is my message to Justin – Stop getting into trouble!! You are only five and I have already run out of punishments for you that don’t directly affect me!!