Bad Daddy
Heidi is off finalizing her plans of World Domination with the girls. I am home and in charge of getting the little sweeties to bed in one piece. The time is 7:30pm and instead of brushing teeth, putting on pajamas, saying prayers and singing good night songs I am busy trying to get my photo essay below formatted properly.
Young David has even tugged at my sleeve and asked for me to get moving. Imagine that, a two and a half year old asking to be put to bed. Why do I press my luck? I should have gone when the kid said he was ready but I didn't.
Thomas likes to climb, we find him on top of the toy box, we find him on top of the living room table, we find him on the stairs. He is fun to watch, he has learned to negotiate the downs relatively well and there is not a lot to be concerned about. Unless you do not heed your two year olds pleads for bedtime.
Thud! Wahhhhhh!
I hit the delete button erasing the mess that was the first attempt at Pictures from Sunday and race to the front hall. Thomas is lying on the floor as I expected, David is sitting on the first landing and Merry is bending down to hug Thomas.
"What Happenend?" I implore.
Merry:
"David pushed Thomas down the stairs"
Hugging Thomas, I look at David and ask "What did you do!?"
David on the verge of tears:
"I pushed Thomas down the stairs."
I grab his arm and sit him down. In my sternness voice I command "TIME OUT!"
I take Thomas and his bloody nose into the kitchen, clean him up and settle him down. This takes all of three or four minutes. Then we return to the scene of the crime, David is still on the stair feeling shame. As is the custom, I get down on his level, still holding Thomas and ask him why he is having the Time Out. Usually he will try to avoid eye contact, not this time, he looked me straight in the eye and said:
"Because I pushed Thomas down the stairs."
I told him to say he was sorry and give his little brother a kiss, which he did and up the stairs we went. I continued to lecture him about how big brothers are supposed to help their little brothers and not hurt them and so on and so forth. He was really sorry and I think he was scared that he may have hurt his little brother.
For the first time in his life I think he experienced remorse. I am glad no one was seriously hurt. The next time my kids tell me it is time for bed, to bed we go.
Young David has even tugged at my sleeve and asked for me to get moving. Imagine that, a two and a half year old asking to be put to bed. Why do I press my luck? I should have gone when the kid said he was ready but I didn't.
Thomas likes to climb, we find him on top of the toy box, we find him on top of the living room table, we find him on the stairs. He is fun to watch, he has learned to negotiate the downs relatively well and there is not a lot to be concerned about. Unless you do not heed your two year olds pleads for bedtime.
Thud! Wahhhhhh!
I hit the delete button erasing the mess that was the first attempt at Pictures from Sunday and race to the front hall. Thomas is lying on the floor as I expected, David is sitting on the first landing and Merry is bending down to hug Thomas.
"What Happenend?" I implore.
Merry:
"David pushed Thomas down the stairs"
Hugging Thomas, I look at David and ask "What did you do!?"
David on the verge of tears:
"I pushed Thomas down the stairs."
I grab his arm and sit him down. In my sternness voice I command "TIME OUT!"
I take Thomas and his bloody nose into the kitchen, clean him up and settle him down. This takes all of three or four minutes. Then we return to the scene of the crime, David is still on the stair feeling shame. As is the custom, I get down on his level, still holding Thomas and ask him why he is having the Time Out. Usually he will try to avoid eye contact, not this time, he looked me straight in the eye and said:
"Because I pushed Thomas down the stairs."
I told him to say he was sorry and give his little brother a kiss, which he did and up the stairs we went. I continued to lecture him about how big brothers are supposed to help their little brothers and not hurt them and so on and so forth. He was really sorry and I think he was scared that he may have hurt his little brother.
For the first time in his life I think he experienced remorse. I am glad no one was seriously hurt. The next time my kids tell me it is time for bed, to bed we go.
posted by Peter at
2:58 PM
4 Comments:
This mazkes you a bad dad how exactly? Seems like you did everything right to me.
Should have got up and got to work putting them to bed when asked. Bad Daddy is an inside family joke, sometimes Merry perceives her father or grandfathers behavior as bad and will tell us so. She is often correct in her perception,yet our offenses are never really that bad.
At least the "Wahhh!" happened immediately after the THUD. It's the times you hear that awful bangety-bangety-THUD, followed by... SILENCE... that really and truly stop your heart for a second. Hate that.
Lessons learned all round, I'd say. One of the joys of parenthood. (No, really!)
It takes a child to teach us adults what's important.
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