Without Instructions…

One of the first onesies we received when we first found out we were going to be parents said “Instructions not included”. Ain’t that the truth! We do the best we can with what we’re given. Bang, the 22 month old, is a growler/screamer. When he’s frustrated out comes this guttural growl (I try not to let him see me laugh). Crash, the nearly 6 year old, is a stomper. When things aren’t going his way his feet start stomping. I’ve tried to help them find calmer ways to release their frustrations, to no avail. They’re not hurting anyone or themselves so really I’m not too concerned about it anymore. Come to think of it, I swear when I’m frustrated (but only if the kids aren’t listening) (usually).

I don’t have the kids in EVERY program possible, consuming every minute of every day.  I take them to the backyard and we play and do yard work. I surely don’t get the 22 month old to rake the grass (usually) but he loves to come stir the compost bin with me (“check com” he calls it). Bang and I went for a forced march walk the other day. I let him walk instead of going in the stroller like he normally does (I took the stroller just in case). He walked a mile Tim’s (mmmm donuts) where he got in his stroller to hork down 2 chocolate Tim Bits (to hell with that healthy stuff, he just walked a mile!). Then I walked to the post office where he got out of the stroller and walked 3/4 of mile back home. I asked him many times “Do you want to get in the stroller?” Every time he answered in his little 22 month old way “Nooooo.” “Do you want to walk?” “Uh walk.” Meanwhile, Crash sometimes likes to go running… he can run a mile in 14 minutes. But usually he just runs 1/2 or 3/4. He’s ALWAYS running in the backyard. Since our everlasting winter is finally over, the trampoline is set up.

Yesterday was Saturday. I didn’t cook last night. We went to McDonalds! But there was a fundraiser there tonight… 10% went to a fundraiser for a new park. Bang, the 22 month old, ate 4 chicken nuggets and his happy meal size fries and some yogurt and some milkshake. He’s only 30 pounds… he’s average but boy was he hungry! His older brother (4 years his senior) ate the same thing PLUS a small milkshake for dessert).

We just do the best we can. Sure both kids have been yelled at, had hands smacked (and bums on very rare occasions) and even had time-outs on the stairs. They’ve had a chocolate dipped granola bar for breakfast, bribed with chocolate. I’ve begged them for 5 minutes peace and put on a movie to get that peace (if only they’d sit and watch it!). I’m too rough when I wrestle them. I chase often. Sometimes I’m a shark or a zombie or a pinchy crab or a tickle monster and I don’t stop until someone gets a boo boo or pees their pants. I fling, I spin, I toss, and I catch (usually). Being a dad is by far the best job ever! Turns out it’s a lot like being a husband 🙂

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