Unnecessary Toughness

"I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." -Thomas Edison

It seems every day, Peanut will say or do something that shows me just how much she's grown up. Not big things, mind you. Little things. Nuances, if you will. Like when she says something that perfectly - if not dramatically - communicates her true feelings...

Take, for instance, the night we told her she could watch a half hour of a movie before bed. "But at 7:30," we warned her beforehand, "we're turning it off and going right upstairs." My Director concluded with a firm, "No fooling around." Fast forward to 7:30. We turn off the movie. Cue Peanut joking around. She's laying on her mom, pretending not to hear her when she asks her to get up. General silly procrastination that we told her would be unacceptable. I snap. "Peanut, stop it right now and let's go to bed."

She immediately stops, stands at attention, furrows her brow and shouts, "Why are you always yelling at me?!"  In the moment, I shot back by telling her I wouldn't have to yell at her if she just listened. But put aside the fact that her use of the word always stabbed me, really making me feel like a jerk of a dad. Peanut is now more capable than ever of expressing her feelings effectively, without crying or whining. Her use of always was deliberate. And timely. Just a couple hours earlier, I snapped at her for lollygagging when she was putting on her shoes for our walk with Luna. (A walk she didn't want to go on but I forced her to because she hadn't been outside all day.)

Sometimes My Director rightfully
throws a penalty flag on me.

My Director perfectly describes it as "piling on." Peanut will do something wrong. I will correct her and if necessary, punish her. Nothing wrong with that. It's called parenting. But I don't stop there. I will then proceed to recall every similar wrongdoing she has committed since the beginning of time, point it out, and use it is as an opportunity to punish her for those prior offenses as well. Because obviously if she's repeating the offense, the prior punishment wasn't effective enough. (At least in my mind.) So I feel the need to "pile on." Or I don't give her a chance to correct it first, before I discipline her. It's my whole ready-fire-aim mentality of parenting.

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What to Expect When You're NOT Expecting

“It isn’t the size of the family, it’s the interactions of the members inside." Michele Borba

A friend of mine posted a picture on Facebook. It was of her daughter entering daycare for the last time. A big moment. A milestone. Certainly a bittersweet one. The end of one era with daycare and the beginning of another one with Kindergarten. The first person to comment in the thread underneath the picture said, "Time to have another baby."

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We Survive and Rebuild Because We're #JerseyStrong

"Tonight I'm gonna take that ride. Cross the river to the Jersey side... 'Cause down the shore everything's alright." -Tom Waits

At the very worst, Sandy has inconvenienced the DKL family. I use the word "inconvenienced" specifically here because so many others have it dramatically worse. In our house, we lost power for two days.

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A Fair Share

"The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings; the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries." -Winston Churchill

Sharing. Fairness. They are a cornerstone of parenting, childhood, and a current political debate. As parents, we begin to instill in our children the all-important concept of sharing at a very early age. And as soon as they can speak, children will soon declare that no matter what you decide, no matter how things are split up, it's not fair. That they are somehow being wronged. To me, that is essentially the cornerstone of the political argument over whether some people pay their "fair share" of taxes. If you ask me, the politicians who spew that talking point sound like whiney children too.

My feelings on this issue were solidified recently during a fun and innocent game we play with Peanut. The game is called "Elefun." Do you know it? A mini air blower that comes in the shape of an elephant shoots paper butterflies up its very long, plastic, collapsible trunk. The object is to catch as many butterflies in your little net as you can. Wholesome family fun jam-packed into two minutes or less. When the last butterfly has been caught, you turn off the elephant and count to see who has the most.

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One is the Only-est Number

"There is just one life for each of us: our own." -Euripides

Yet again, our almost daily walk with Luna produces another memorable Peanut moment. On one of our routes, we walk by a rose garden that is a focal point of the park that our street dead ends into. Recently, the people who take care of the garden dedicated a new statue to one of its benefactors. It was a particularly hot day, so Luna found a shaded patch of grass near the rose bushes and laid down. I sat on a bench as Peanut played on the statue, a little boy pushing a wheelbarrow. She then put her arm around it, and said, "Look, daddy. He's my little brother."

She had struck a chord. So I asked her, "Are you ok if me and mommy don't have another baby?"

Then, in typical Peanut fashion, she eased my concerns saying, "Daddy, I'm just pretending."

This is a very sensitive subject for us. And while we never say never, for now we're saying we only get one shot at this. I only get one shot at this. At the whole being a dad thing. This is my shot:

So everything I do, every decision I make, every choice is a BFD. Because everything involves Peanut.

My daughter is an ONLY child and will likely be our ONLY child. And I have heard enough of the backhanded, condescending comments in my five-plus years as a dad of ONE child. News alert: Having one child doesn't make me any less of a parent. Maybe it's just paranoia or insecurity, but sometimes I feel unfairly judged or underestimated.

Then I remember actual conversations, like this:

"We've always made Peanut eat what we eat. Luckily, she's a good eater and likes pretty much anything I cook."

(Dismissively) "Yeah. But you ONLY have one. I have to worry about two picky eaters."

That's just one of many exchanges I've had. The mere suggestion that our days, our lives, are somehow easier is insulting. My Director and I don't have it easy. Walk a mile in my shoes. Wake up when I do. Do my job and love my child for the two hours a day I get to love her. Then tell me how insignificant it is. Look, I'm not looking for a pat on the back or for someone to validate me as a dad. The only person who needs to think I'm a good dad as far as I'm concerned is Peanut. Her love and respect is all that matters. But the persistent, underlying judgment we feel as "only-"parents is sometimes exhausting.

I don't love her any less. I don't stress about her any less. I don't play king to her princess with any less gusto just because she's my ONLY child.

Sometimes one is enough. Plenty, in fact.

We have one child by choice, and by circumstance. For the same reasons I am sure other families may have more than one. If you ask me, we are all more than blessed.

And one last thing about the only child herself: If Peanut has a meltdown, shows defiance, or expects or asks for something, it's not because she's an ONLY child. It's because she IS a child. You think her behavior in these cases would be better if she had a sibling? I'd argue they'd be worse. I was in constant competition with my three older siblings for my parents' attention. Still am. You want me to line up the people with siblings who have issues? Where should I begin?

A couple of weeks ago, My Director and I were watching the Olympics. More specifically, we were watching women's swimming. We watched a profile piece on 17 year-old phenom Missy Franklin and her family. She is smart, personable, outgoing, funny, and adorable. Oh, she then went on to win the gold medal in the 100-meter backstroke. (Then three other golds and a bronze, thank you very much.) She is also an only child.

The Golden Only Child (photo from here.)

"See that?" My Director noted with a smile. "Missy Franklin is an only child. She turned out pretty well."

Peanut is also smart, personable, outgoing, funny, and adorable.Yet, sometimes we still feel the need to defend her, to justify her actions and our decisions, to ourselves and others. Well, the justifying stops today.

She probably won't be winning any gold medals in swimming
since she still doesn't like getting her face wet. But I love
her just the same.

We didn't set out to be a one-child family. We just are. That's us. It's who we've become. Possibly for good.  If you ask me, for very good.

For a time, we went back and forth about having a second child, weighing the pros and cons. I wrote about it almost a year ago. You can click here if you want to read it. But our decision to stop at one was not an easy one. Circumstances helped us make that decision. Someday we'll be ready to share that story.

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