...Because, That's Why.

I can only imagine over the relatively short life of the interweb, that this topic has been hashed out and rehashed and then microwaved the morning after with a wicked hangover and then re-rehashed.  What fun and exciting topic could I be referring to you ask?  Could it be the topic of potty training?  Nope, not even close to that yet.  Possibly my 2 1/2 year old parroting his first curse word?  Nope, but I'm surprised that hasn't happened yet as he seems to repeat most other things that come out of my mouth.  Or how about what a finicky eater kids can be and how to deceptively get them to eat things that are good for them?  Not that either (but if you want to know the answer to that just tell them that whatever they are eating is "special" and that seems to solve most issues).  No my friends and avid blog followers (all three of you), the great mystery topic is much larger than any of those things...it is the age old question (nope, not how babies are made)...why?  That's not a question.  That's the answer.  Actually the question is the answer.  No, I'm not trying to get philosophical on you - I'm about as deep as a speed bump.  The question "why" has arrived and it has arrived in force.

A little backstory...

Since he was about 6 months old I've been eager to have some good ol'father/son chats.  Nothing crazy, just talking sports or toys or macro-economics - you know, the ushe (pronounced yu'sze...as in 'usual').  Because I am such a genius, I thought he would just start chattering away one day, in fully understandable sentences.  Even when that didn't quite happen, I thought for sure that he'd come around any day.  Two years later, that still isn't the case.  He can be a little tough to understand and he focuses in on one thing pretty often, like "where's mama?", "me want to eat", "me want to go", or "no me want to".  A lot of days we just talk about the same things over and over.  Not what I was expecting.  Everyone told me to be careful what I asked for...they were right.  He talks.  He is a regular chatterbox, it's just about stuff I don't want to talk about.  Weird, I know.

About 2-3 weeks ago, he dropped a bomb on me.  I told him it was time to change his diaper and he looked up at me and asked "Why, Dadda?"  At first I thought he had said "cry Dadda."  Which is a game he likes to play with Mrs. Griswold Wanna-Be, where he tells her to cry and she fake cries.  I've never cared much for the game as I don't think it's appropriate for him to believe it's okay or funny to make people cry - so as a famous clown once eloquently said "Homey don't play dat."  I turned back to him and said "Dadda doesn't play 'cry', now lets go change your diaper."  Again he said "Why, Dadda?"  This time I picked up on the subtle difference between his pronunciation of "cry" and "why".  I wasn't sure what to say, he'd never needed explanations before.  So I just said "because your butt stinks and I don't want to smell your butt."  Yes I know, my 'best parent of the year' award is in the bag.  I thought we were done.  I was wrong.  He asked again: "Why, Dadda?"  Why what?  Why does your butt smell or why don't I want to smell it?  Eff it, I'll answer both.  "Your butt smells because you pooped.  And I don't want to smell it because it smells gross."  Then it happened, the moment of epiphany...he said "ohhhhh."

Those moments of "ohhhh" are great.  It makes me feel like I explain things well.  If I can get a 2 1/2 year old to understand something, then the rest is cake.  But every now and then, there is no epiphany-like moment.  So the "whys" just keep coming.  So by the hundredth "why" the other day, I brought out the big guns and dropped the infamous and irrefutable "because".  Nothing else.  Just "because".  Ha!  Nothing you can say to that now can you smart guy?!  If this was 7th grade, I would have held the palm of my hand up to his face and said "FACED!"  There was no coming back from this, like the well worn tale of the tortoise and the hare - no need to tell you who I was.  Then he did it.  I never even saw it coming.

"Why, Dadda?"

And with that, apparently I am the hare.

Son, you are a worthy adversary.              

Whining? Can't Have It. Not On This Team.

My whole life I have been saying that when I had kids of my own I wasn't going to say the things my parents said to me: "eat all of your (fill in the blank) or no dessert, not under my roof, do I need to tell Santa, etc". Alas, I am a father of two boys (2 1/2 and 5 months) and if I am not saying the things my folks said to me then what is coming out of my pie hole is certainly no less ridiculous.  Undoubtedly, my three year old self would happily toss a Spiderman motorcycle toy at my head for the father that I have become.  But as a parent sometimes you just have to do what works (or rather what shut's your kids up).  Because your kids will drive you nuts and you will need to minimize it both for a happy home life and a healthy you.  And I don't mean they'll drive you "nuts" like it's rush hour and some schmuck just cut you off sort of "nuts", I mean someone just spit in your mother's face, crapped in your food, kicked your dog and kissed your wife sort of "nuts".  I'm not kidding.  This shit is real.  What drives parents this level of crazy is different for each person, for some it is the Captain Contrary/Negative Nancy phase, for others it may be not following the simple rules.  For me it is whining.

I can't tell you where my son learned it from.  I don't whine.  My wife does't whine.  The dogs whine, but that's different.  It's as if it is just some sort of diabolical manifestation.  Sure, some professionals will tell you that it is the child learning to express themselves and that apparently negativity is the first thing they learn.  Fantastic.  You newbies are surely saying to yourselves "but what could a 2 1/2 year old have to really whine about besides wanting toys or not wanting to eat his/her vegetables"?  And the answer to that is EVERYTHING.  Absolutely, positively anything.

My son will tell me he's all done eating his dinner and I tell him it's time for a bath.  He then tells me he's not all done with his dinner and that he doesn't like baths.  He'll tell me he wants to go play with his kitchen in his room, but when I tell him that he needs to clean up his Legos before we go and play something new he tells me he doesn't want to go to play with his kitchen.  And he never does this nonchalantly.  Oh no.  A whine is nothing if not all in the delivery.  His is characterized by a sort of mid-pitched, head tucked to his chin and arms crossed while slightly swinging side-to-side (if he's in his high chair, he usually turns his head completely away from me) followed by "me no want to (fill in the blank)" with a heavy emphasis on the word "want" and always mixed in is the fake cry.

And it is in that faked cry that the intolerable whine is produced.  I usually try to reason with him, not happening, at least not yet.  So he whines again.  I try to dissuade him from pushing this too far by assertively telling him to cut it out.  He ignores me and whines again.   Here is where my skin begins to crawl and my level of patience, understanding and most of all calmness goes out the window and I become my mother.  My face hardens up.  My finger wags in his face.  And I tell him between clenched teeth "I don't care what you want.  I told you to (fill in the blank) and that's what you'll do".  Believe it or not, he gets me.  Or at the very least he's just scared enough to not make another go of it.  And there in lies the trick newbies: a healthy dose of fear in your kids is to a happy household as the play action pass is in football - it keeps them honest.

Your kids are smarter and wilier than you know.  They are learning what buttons to press to open or slam your proverbial doors everyday.  You have to stay on your toes, but more importantly you need to keep them on theirs.  The first time you make that horrible, hard, ugly face and let them know that this is your ship and not theirs - if you do it right it will be like in Monsters Inc. when Sulley unintentionally scares the shit out of Boo when he roars for the practice dummy.  The realization that this dude is crazy and I don't want any part of that; you'll see it in their eyes, trust me.  And sure, you'll feel terrible for it, but it's a necessary personal health safety precaution.  Because your kids are going to get older and from what I hear it is going to get even more challenging.  You're going to need to keep that blood pressure low and that heart healthy if you want to live to see those days.

Let's be honest, we take hordes of pictures and videos of our kids over the years for two reasons.  One, we want to remember these moments because though the days are long the years are short.  Two, your kids will have girlfriends/boyfriends/husbands/wives and most importantly kids of their own and what better way to get back for all those days you were sure you were three beats from a heart attack or an emotional/mental collapse than to show some of the more embarrassing footage of them when they were kids.  I know I am keeping my collection well stocked.