I Can't Help It...

Sorry for another picture of my oldest son (Ryan) sleeping.  But this one is hot off the press.  I went up to his room last night to check on him and this is what I saw.  This is probably the funniest kid I've ever known.  He is about as bright as his dad. 

Hope all is well with everyone.  

More mind-blowing posts to come!

Big Boy Bed

Ryan slept in his toddler bed last night for the first time.  As you know from my earlier post, he had a tendency of climbing out of his crib.

Read here to catch up.

http://becomedad.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-do-you-tame-monkey.html

He did a great job.  It was hilarious to hear him talking, playing and enjoying his new freedom.

He could choose to play with some toys, walk around, sit on the floor or lay in his bed and sleep.

That brought me much pleasure.  Seems to have brought him rest.

Pop 'Em Like It's Hot...

In light of Steve's past video post, I thought I would add my own.  

This is Snoop Dog's TOP 5 fatherhood tips.

(I remember like it was yesterday when my parents got me "The Chronic" for Christmas.  I loved that album!)

True Story.

Some advice about Christmas Gifts for the Mrs.

http://bewareofthedoghouse.com/video.aspx

I'm Still That Kid...

Before I could drive, I put others who had a drivers license on a pedestal.  When I would see them driving in their cars, I tried to imagine how they must feel.  In my mind, I thought driving a vehicle on the open road would must make a person feel really grown up and mature inside.

So, when I received my drivers license in 1994 and headed out on the open road by myself, I felt NOTHING like I thought I would feel.  I didn't feel like a grown-up at all.  Actually, I didn't even feel like a 16 year old.  I felt like I was 6 years old inside learning to riding my bicycle out in front of the house for the first time.  I was still very much that kid.  The only difference was I was operating a new toy.

The same is true of me becoming a dad.

Before I became a father, I put other dads I knew on a pedestal.  I thought all dads must "feel" really mature and grown-up inside knowing they have produced life.  When I would see them with their kids, I tried to imagine how they must feel.  In my mind, I thought raising kids must make a guy feel really grown up and mature inside.

However, I still feel 6 years old learning to ride my bicycle.

"On The Days I Am Not My Father" - A Poem

I don't yell. I don't hold inside
the day's supply of frustrations.
My hands stay open all day.
I don't wake tired and sore,dazed from senseless, panicking
dreams. On the days I am notmy father I hold my son
when he cries, let him touch my face without flinching, lie down with him
until he falls asleep, realize that just because he has a sharp tongue,
just because he's sometimes mean,
just because he's smarter than me
doesn't mean he'll become my father.
On the days I am not my father
holding you is enough until
holding you is no longer enough
for either of us. I listen well.
I let things go unfinished,
in an order I didn't plan.
My mouth is relaxed. My teethdon't hurt. My face stays a healthy shade of pink all day.
On the days I am not my father
I don't fill the silence with my own
irrational rants. I don't resent the voices of others. I don't make fun
of you to make myself feel better.
On the days I am not my father
I don't care who winsor loses. The news can't ruinmy day. I water plants.
I cook. I laugh at myself.I can imagine living without my beard, with my hair cut,
without the fear of looking too much like my father. On the days
I am not my father I rompand play, I don't compare myself
with everyone else, the night
is always long enough, I like
how much I am like my father.

"On The Days I Am Not My Father" by Scott Owens from The Fractured World. © Main Street Rag Publishing Company. Reprinted without permission of any kind.

Breathe Deep

One of the greatest days of my life was when Ryan was born.  I remember like it was only 18 month ago.

We waited and waited for him to arrive (9 months and 3 days to be exact).  I could not wait to see this new life in the flesh.  I was insanely crazy about seeing him for the first time.  He was me.  He was Monica.  He was Ryan.  I wanted to see what that looked like.

However, I wanted to go beyond seeing.  I wanted to go beyond touching.  I wanted to experience him in a deeper way.  It was not enough for me to just lay eyes on him, I wanted to be as close to my new son as humanly possible.  Closer than holding him.  Closer than hugging him.  Closer than putting him skin to skin against my bare chest.

I wanted him IN me.  (I told you this would get crazy).

Have you ever heard a nice old lady say that she could just "eat" your child?  We'll that is what I wanted to do.  I wanted to eat him and digest him.  That is how close I wanted to be to my son.  I wanted to stick him in my belly.  However, I knew that was out of the question for obvious reasons.

So, I decided to put him in my lungs.

That's right.  The only way to get as close to him as I desired was to breathe his new breath into my lungs.  In my mind, that was the "closest" I could get to him.  Have something generated from INSIDE of him INSIDE of me.

So, as soon as he was born and the nurses laid him under the heater to clean him off, I elbowed my way past them, stuck my nose in his mouth and breathed DEEP!  I mean real deep.  Several breaths deep.  I think I breathed his 8th, 9th and 10th breath.  I would have loved to have breathed his first.

I'll never forget that feeling.  I'll never forget that smell.  I'll never forget closing my eyes and filling my lungs up with the breath of my new son.  The breath that I gave, I was now breathing back into me.  It was one of the most intimate things I've experienced outside of sex with my wife.

I wonder if God did something similar after he breathed His breath into Adam?

I like to think that He did.  I'd like to think that God took a moment in the stillness of creation and breathed some of Adam back into Himself.  No rush.  No hurry.  We can name the animals later.  Right now, it's me and you living inside one another.

Jesus will go on to say something similar in John 15:4,

"Remain (lit. "live") in me and I will live in you."

Now that is close.

Climbing Out Of Our Cribs...

Ryan did something that completely amazed and scared the crap out of me today.

After I changed my soiled boxers, I didn't know whether to discipline him or applaud him, smack his hand or give him five, spank his butt or pat him on the rear.

I was filled with great fear and deep pride in the same moment.

Today, he managed to climb out of his crib, open the door to his room, break through the baby gate in front of the door, walk down the hall, push through the gate at the top of the stairs, slide all the way down the stairs and walk into our bedroom like nothing happened.

My first words were, "NO-NO" and my next words were "GIVE ME FIVE!"  The more I reflected on this, I viewed it as an act of bravery instead of defiance.   

I wonder if God feels the same way when we do similar things in our relationship with Him?

Certainly He does not feel a sense of pride when we climb over His commands or bust through His precepts.  But I wonder if the heart of The Father swells with pride when He sees His children climb out of the norm and push past the status quo in how we relate to Him?

Many of us approach God from the cribs of our religious routines, trapped behind the doors of our unrealistic spiritual expectations and blocked in by a gate of guilt for not spending enough "time" with Him.

I wonder if God takes great pride when one of his children is courageous enough to set their Bibles down for a time and glory in the wind on their face.  I wonder if God is delighted when we cease from praying for a season and be silent and still.  I wonder if God sees growth if we spend a Sunday or two (or four) going on a picnic, hiking or taking a trip with our family instead of going to church?

Could be dangerous...I know...but so is climbing out of cribs.

Discipline 101

This is another 18 month old. His birth name is Zachary. We changed the name of his older brother from Andrew to "tornado" shorlty after his stint with colic. Last month we decided Zachary needed a new name as well. We settled on "Tsunami". The thing to remember with discipline, that has helped me as I have beat the daylights out of tiny, little boys with a clear mind, is to imagine that same rebellion in 5 years, 10 years, or 20 years. It is a whole lot easier to smack the hand of a baby when he hits his brother than try to bend a teenager over your knee after he tells you to shut up. Honestly. Gordon Macdonald wrote a good book called the "Effective Father" that I follow when it comes to discipline. He spanks for discrespect, disobedience and hurting (physical or emotional through teasing). I give pops with a big paint stirer from Hom Depot (the kind for 5 gallon buckets). My biggest probelm is consistancy because, let's face it, I'm am lazy and to discipline all day, every time, is flat out exhausting. Most important of all is how the discipline ends for us. We have been committed to reconciliation. After every pop we never leave the room until our kids say sorry and we tell them that we forgive them with a hug and kiss. The Bible seems pretty clear that God gives discipline to those he loves. If you want to love your kids well, teach them what is right and wrong. Teach them what you value, let them know some small consequences to disobedience now rather than the kind of lessons we had to learn later. If nothing else in this rant seems to stick, chew on this...my dad never gave me a spanking (although he threatened once during a situation not fit to discuss on this blog). But seriously...you want kids like me?

How Do You Tame A Bear?

Growing up in East Tennessee as the son of a father born in 1936, suffice it to say I got my rear-end blistered when I disobeyed or acted up.

I've been spanked with about every object known to mankind (switches, belts, hands, books and a crazy experience with a wooden spoon).

Although this is fairly extreme for most, I turned out to be pretty normal and didn't resent my parents for "disciplining" me in this way.  I always knew they loved me...and I always loved them.

As a father of two small boys, I'm not wanting to discipline them in the same way.  I do believe in "spanking" but think there is a right time (and a right way) to do it.

We have an 18 month old who is testing us in about every way possible.  We really haven't spanked him when he starts to throw a fit, smacks us or hits his baby brother.   We've just said, "NO-NO" and that is about it.  We've tried "time-out" but that seems a little weird as well.

How do you discipline an 18 month old?  He's so little and cute (as you can see), we can't imagine spanking him.  However, I don't want to set a precedent that he can get away with whatever he wants. 

 Thoughts?

NOTE: Don't just drop her off

I use to feel bad for the fact that my second son, Andrew was born in a bath tub at the hospital. My competitive friend Dave has, once again, topped me.

http://www.wsoctv.com/news/17982604/detail.html?rss=char&psp=news

A Good Diet

On a recent drive home from church (without mom) the following conversation broke out:

Me: What do you guys want for lunch today?
Luke: You know what I like
Andrew: ...mayonnaise
Luke: ...mayonnaise and meat