To Catch a Thief

"Been caught stealin' once when I was five." -Jane's Addiction

This is an all points bulletin. Be on the lookout for a criminal mastermind. Her crime wave so relentless, police have littered the town with these posters:

Don't let the adorable smile fool you. I should have known this dame was trouble the first time I laid eyes on her. She's a slippery thief.

Accused of swiping  toys from the daycare playground. There are two instances that we know of. She's been caught tiny toy-handed twice with knick-knacks in her jacket pocket. And she's slick, denying any wrongdoing at first. But no detective worth a damn takes "I don't know" for an answer. Eventually, she confessed after a little questioning. She had no choice and revealed no accomplices. She apologized. To her mother and her teacher. Since she showed remorse, we let her off with a stern warning.

Then came the second instance. Just when we had let our guard down, My Director reached into Peanut's pocket and found two little toys again. The "I don't know" soon followed. Then the confession after a brief interrogation. And the remorse, and the apology to the teacher. 

But a repeat offender must be dealt with, swiftly and harshly. The prosecutor (My Director) has instituted a three-strikes-and-you're-out policy. Next time, a serious punishment will be handed down. 

She's known to disguise herself with pink superhero makeup, wear princess dresses, and is often seen accompanied by a dirty stuffed lamb she calls "Giada:"

Our suspect and "Giada,"
laughing it up on a recent Disney getaway

She often flees on foot, but is known to ride around on a purple Tinker Bell scooter. Last known whereabouts include the playroom, dance class, and any bathroom that her dad is trying to occupy. She's not armed or dangerous. But if you see this little menace or know of her whereabouts, please contact us immediately

You know I can't write a post, funny or not, about Peanut being a naughty, lying, thieving miscreant  without linking to one where she was amazingly GOOD, right? And honest? Click here to read it.

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Anger Management

"Life is too short to hold a grudge, also too long." -Robert Brault

I can't stay mad at the dog. I just can't. My daughter, however, is a different story.

But why? Why do I come home to a steaming turd sitting on the floor, courtesy of Luna, yet feel guilty scolding her?

If my daughter committed an equally naughty offense, I still wouldn't be over it hours later. Days even.

Let me paint a poop-colored picture for you: Peanut and I came home from a day of work and daycare (I do pickup.) Peanut goes in first while I empty the car. I follow. We greet Luna and give her the love and affection she's been craving for ten hours.

But on this particular day something I spotted out of the corner of my eye interrupted our reunion...

A dogsh!t surprise at the edge of the area rug, right by the fireplace. (I will spare you a picture.) As soon as I saw it, I shouted, "LUNA, NO." And she knew.

Immediately, her mood changed. Her ears and tail dropped. She slinked away. Then as I said, "BAD GIRL," she started nervously wagging her tail. She knew she was in trouble. She knew she had done something wrong.

There was probably a thunderstorm or something that spooked her during the day. This happens a few times a year. Doesn't make it any less annoying to come home to.

Look at that punum.
How can I stay mad at her?

I grabbed Luna, in case she had forgotten about the pile of crap she had left for me. (I had no idea how long ago she did it. And I wasn't about to call in the CSI folks.) I made sure she saw what I was upset about. (Even though I hate doing that.) I told her "NO. BAD DOG," again.

Then I carried her to the bathroom and shut her in there in time out while I cleaned it. You could tell she was sorry because she didn't whine the whole time she was in there.

And that's why I feel bad punishing Luna. Remorse. She is so sorry. She loves us so much, unconditionally. And when she does something she thinks jeopardizes that love (it doesn't), she feels awful. All she wants is forgiveness.

The Peanut, on the other hand, could care less about seeking forgiveness or feeling remorse. She recently threw a hissy fit over the fact that I had cut in half the piece of chocolate chip banana bread I was giving her AS A TREAT for her first day of pre-K. Oh, the horror.

The offending slice

She completely lost her mind. Screaming, "That's not how I want it." And "That's not how mommy does it." (Nice to make me feel inadequate... again.) Over a piece of CHOCOLATE CHIP banana bread for a pre-dinner snack. Usually, I can get her to calm down. But this being the first day back to school, she was extra tired. Thus, my normally tranquil Peanut had morphed into Little Miss Spazzypants.

I told her she couldn't have the banana bread until she stopped crying and apologized. She wasn't stopping.  I walked away to cook dinner. When I heard her finally calm down, I went over to explain to her what had gone wrong. I was even going to offer her the banana bread again, unsliced, despite the meltdown. IF she apologized. You know what she did instead? Kicked me. (I sense a disturbance in the force.)

As I write this, I'm getting angry all over again and it happened almost two weeks ago.

You know why? No remorse. In her eyes, I was wrong. I had made her upset by cutting the banana bread in half. How dare I? Then I was at fault again by taking it away. The nerve.

That's why I hold grudges against the Peanut. Even long after the tantrum. Even long after she's moved on and is in a good mood again. Even then, I'm looking at her through squinted eyes and with furrowed brow. I'm still hanging on to that anger and frustration.

The sorry she eventually offered wasn't really a sorry. No remorse. She could learn a thing or two from her canine older sister.

My wife often jokes she'd rather get a second puppy than have a second child. One of these days, I just may take her seriously.

Then again, Luna would be devastated. And I really couldn't bear upsetting her.

Can you guess where the Peanut gets her inability to apologize? That's right.

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A Sorry Apology

"An apology is a good way to have the last word."  ~Author Unknown

Without a doubt my least favorite thing about my daughter is her inability to apologize. She's horrible at it. It's biting into tin foil with silver fillings annoying. A close second is her refusal to accept any help or instructions when she's doing something wrong.

And where does she get this from? Yours truly, of course.

I'm thinking of apologies after the latest in a long line of high profile apologies that didn't quite cut it. I'm talking about, of course, Congressman Anthony Weiner. Let's be honest: this guy only apologized because he got caught, not because he's sorry. He denied and dodged for weeks only to "come clean" if you want to call it that, because he couldn't keep up the lie any longer.

Other athletes or celebrities often say things like, "I'm sorry you were offended." Nothing like making the people whose feelings you may have hurt feel worse just for having feelings.

The fact is, saying your sorry doesn't make it right. You've got to mean it. You've got to be sorry. Then you've got to not do it again.

I know this because I am working on it myself as I try to teach my daughter the same thing.

You know what we both do? We try to immediately cover up our indiscretions by making jokes or getting defensive. Sound familiar, Mr. Weiner?

When she does apologize, it's insincere. That is, if you can hear it at all.

It starts with an act of wrongdoing. Say you're playing with her and she's getting rough. You ask her to stop, or to be careful, because she's going to hurt someone. She doesn't, and she kicks you in the ribs... hard. You're in pain. You tell her she hurt you. You ask her to apologize. She stands there and refuses. Not only does she refuse, she goes silent. Not only does she go silent, she won't even make eye contact.

Then your wife comes in because you are too furious with both pain and the situation to handle it properly.

After the refusal, the silence, and the no eye contact... she will finally apologize. It will barely be audible, but she'll do it. You ask her to repeat it. She says, "I said I was sorry." Now she's getting mad... at her victim... just like the athlete who says, "I'm sorry you were offended."

"How would you like it if mommy or daddy hurt you? Would you like that?"

She shakes her head no as she continues her silent treatment while still not making eye contact.

"Then why did you hurt daddy?"

Silence.

"You need to say you're sorry."

"I did."

"You need to say it louder."

She shouts it.

"No, honey... you need to say it nicely. And you need to give daddy a hug."

Nothing.

I can deal with the tantrums, the irrationality, the stubbornness, the refusal to allow us to help her, the occasional not listening, the messes. I can deal with all that... barely.

But I can't deal with her crappy apologies. Now I know how my wife feels.

She used to be good at saying she's sorry... until we changed the rules on her. Click here to read.

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Who's Sorry Now?

"The voice of parents is the voice of gods, for to their children they are heaven’s lieutenants." -William Shakespeare

Man oh man it's got to be frustrating to be a baby. A toddler. Excuse me... "a little girl," as my daughter now refers to herself. Put aside the daily struggle with the pooping and peeing in the pants. Ignore the language barrier that causes us as parents to turn into a couple of Jackie Chan sidekicks when trying to decipher what she just said. Not to mention her constant attempts to accomplish something on your own, for the first time, the second time, or just the next time... but can't.

Those are all frustrating. But the most frustrating? It's gotta be that we keep changing the rules on her. Poor kid.

Ever since she could talk, walk, and slap, we have ingrained in her head the concept of the apology. And now, she obliges. A conciliatory, sincere, often immediate apology often follows any wrongdoing. But now there are times where she's gone too far. And saying "sorry" just isn't enough.

One night my daughter was extra cranky and overtired. She wanted us to read her a book that she was holding, but my wife told her she'd have to wait until we finished getting her ready for bed. At that point our little girl proceeded to smack my wife upside the head with the book. And although the thought of this scene playing out in my mind still causes me to giggle (I'm giggling right now - evil), this behavior is unacceptable. I'll let funny stuff slide sometimes, but acting out sight gags from The Three Stooges simply crosses the line. That could be downright dangerous.

Why I oughtta...

My wife, always a buoy of calm wading in a sea of chaos, lost it. She had to leave the room she was so angry (as I suppressed my laughter). It was then I informed our daughter that she will be going right to bed and we would not be reading her a book.

"Soorrreee."

Nope.

And she didn't understand. I put her in her crib despite her vehement protests. She repeatedly screamed her apology in desperation "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Once I calmed her down, I explained to her that while it's good that she's sorry for using a children's book as a weapon to nearly concuss her mother, that sometimes saying your sorry is just not enough. It doesn't make it right.

This, as you can imagine, did not go over well.

Consider her point of view: all she knows is to apologize if she does something wrong, and she is forgiven. It's the foundation of our faith. It's how we believe we get into heaven despite our faults, despite our sins. Geez, in less philosophical terms, to my daughter it's the quickest route back to getting a cookie.

Now we're saying, "Well, technically it's good you apologized BUUUT..." And that's a pretty big 'but.'

Now, I like big buts, and I cannot lie... but this is one of the biggest. We're getting into intent. And interpreting intent. The subjective, murky, gray areas that children cannot grasp. Espcially a 2 1/2 year old.

The same goes for "please." I don't care how sweetly you say please, my little darling, or how nicely you ask in a full sentence like I require. You're not getting a cookie before you eat breakfast.
Now I'm the one who is sorry. Sorry that my wife got blindsided with a book (snort snort giggle). Sorry that my daughter did all she knew she could to remedy the situation. And sorry that to us, it wasn't enough , and she didn't know why, and couldn't comprehend the reason.

Maybe we're the ones who are out of our minds.

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