Copy Game

Troy: “Dada, I want to play the copy game in the car.”
Me: “Okay.”
Troy: “You need to say something.”
Me: “No, you say something. I want to copy you.”
Troy: “I want to copy you.”
Me: “No, that’s not how it’s supposed to work. I’m going to copy you!”
Troy: “No, that’s not how it’s supposed to work. I’m going to copy you!”
Me: “Stop it! I’m copying you!”
Troy: “Stop it! I’m copying you!”
Me: “Supercalifragilisticexpealidocious!”
Troy: “What the heck?!”
Me: “What the heck?!”
Troy: “I don’t want to play anymore.”

Smart Aleck

Troy: “Dada, is this a new road? Are we lost?”
Me: “No, I know exactly where we are. Do you know where you are?”
Troy: “Yes. I’m in the backseat of the car.”
Me: “That’s a smart aleck answer. It sounds like something I’d say.”

Insincere

Troy: “Can I watch TV during breakfast, dada?”
Me: “No, we’re not watching TV during meals anymore, because you weren’t nice last night. Did you forget, because I didn’t? I may have forgiven you, but I didn’t forget.”
Troy: “But I apologized.”
Me: “Yes, but you didn’t mean it. You didn’t apologize because you wanted to make things right between us. You only did it because you wanted to watch TV again.”
Troy: “I tried, but I don’t know how to apologize. I need you to show me.”
Me [turning to look him in the eyes and holding his hands]: “Okay. It would be like this. ‘Dada, I’m sorry that I talked back to you last night. That was very disrespectful of me, and I shouldn’t have done it. You were just trying to take care of me, so I could get enough rest.’”
Troy: “But I don’t know how to do that.”
Me: “I literally just showed you!”
Troy: “Okay. I’m sorry.”
Me: “For what? Do you even know what you did and why it’s wrong?”
Troy: “No.”
Me: “Did you talk back to me when I told you it was time for a shower? Did you tell me ‘No,’ and that you weren’t going to do that or stop watching TV?”
Troy: “Yes.”
Me: “Then that’s what you should apologize for.”
Troy: “I’m sorry, dada. I’m really sorry.”
Me: “Okay, I appreciate it. And I still love you.”
Troy: “I still love you too. Can I watch TV now?”
Me: “Wait, did you only apologize so you could watch TV again, or were you trying to make things right between us?”
Troy: “To watch TV.”
Me: “Then, that’s still not right. I want you to restore the relationship between you and me. To make things right between us again. I don’t care about the TV.”
Troy: “If you won’t let me watch TV, then I’ll never eat breakfast again!”
Me: “That’s your choice. I can always give it to kids who have nothing to eat, and you can go hungry. But you’re still not watching TV.”
Troy: “You don’t love me!”
Me: “I do. I wouldn’t be trying to teach you, if I didn’t love you.”

Lab Rat

Troy: “I like Lab Rat, but she’s a bad guy.”
Me: “I like Lab Rat too, but I think it’s a boy.”
Troy: “Lab Rat is a girl!”
Me: “Why? What proof do you have of that?”
Troy: “Lab Rat talks like a girl.”
Me: “It’s a rat! They all talk with high voices. What other proof do you have?”
Troy: “She wears a lab coat.”
Me: “That doesn’t mean anything. Boys and girls both wear lab coats.”
Troy: “It’s a girl.”
Me: “Well, we’ll have to agree to disagree. I also like the pigeons with their little hats.”
Troy: “I like the pigeons. And the Cat Burglar. And the singing squirrels. And Mr. Puppypaws.”
Me: “Aren’t there some groundhogs too that are always asleep?”
Troy: “Yeah, they walk around with their eyes closed. But Lab Rat took over the groundhog’s home because her dumpster was stolen. She and Otto went to get cheese, and when they came back, someone had stolen their dumpster.”
Me: “And what color was their dumpster?”
Troy: “Purple.”
Me: “Yes! Good job!”
Troy: “And they looked at the big screen and saw all the blue dumpsters, but those weren’t the right ones. Then, they saw the purple one.”
Me: “Yes, I still don’t agree with that technology. I don’t think anyone has a map of all the dumpsters in the city and their color.”
Troy: “Did you watch that episode?”
Me: “Yes.”
Troy: “And did you see the map?”
Me: “I did, but I don’t believe it.”
Troy: “And did you hear Lab Rat speak?”
Me: “Yes.”
Troy: “And did you hear Lab Rat sound like a girl?”
Me [realizing my son was setting a trap for me]: “Um, I heard Lab Rat speak.”
Troy: “Did you hear Lab Rat sound like a girl? Did YOU?! DID YOU?!”
Me: “Why is it so important to you that I agree with you?”
Troy: “Because Lab Rat is a girl. Say it! Say it!”
Me: “Hey Siri, is Lab Rat a girl?”
Siri: “This is what I found. Lab Rat is a recurring character and antagonist from the Disney Junior series SuperKitties. She is a rat scientist capable of conducting experiments and high-tech devices, though she does it mainly to serve her own purposes.”
Me: “I can’t believe you were right. I can’t believe Lab Rat is a girl.”
Troy: “YEEEESSSSS!!! Yes, yes, yes! I win!”
Me: “I feel so deflated right now.”

Night Terrors

“Dada! Dada! Help! Help me! DADA! HELP!” This is what I’ve been woken up to almost every night since we’ve been back from Yellowstone. For the last month, Troy has been waking up with night terrors. He runs halfway down the stairs and screams that phrase over and over while I try to rush to him. The first couple of nights, it scared the living daylights out of me, because I thought he was injured or being attacked by something. But now, I’m a little desensitized to it. In fact, most nights I’ll wake up around 3:00 am and wait for it. I can hear his feet pounding rapidly across the floor heading to the stairs, and I’ll get up and start heading that way.


And the issue, according to Troy, is that he’s scared of being alone. Before our trip, he was doing pretty well making it through the night in his room by himself. But now, he can’t make it a single night. I’ve tried taking him back up and putting him to bed, but by then he’s so awake that he won’t go back to sleep. He’s scared himself so badly and convinced himself that monsters are out to get him, and he can’t be alone at that point. And he’ll come back downstairs every 15-20 min. I’ve tried laying up in his bed until he relaxes back into sleep. That’s more successful, but not guaranteed. The only thing that’s guaranteed to work is to let him sleep in the big bed with my wife. He’s content knowing that someone is with him.


The problem for me is that I have a very difficult time going back to sleep again after that. My heart’s racing, the blood is flowing, my mind is awake, and I’m done. So, night after night, I get too little sleep, and I’m exhausted. I’ve started trying to take naps during the day in between meetings to compensate, but it never feels like enough. I’ve tried talking to Troy about it, telling him that monsters aren’t real and giving him forewarning that I won’t be staying with him all night, but it seems to make no difference.

ICE

We decided to go to the Gaylord Texan today with Troy’s best friends and their families. The super resort in Grapevine was putting on their annual Ice show, which is an artisanal exhibition of master ice sculptors from China. This year’s theme was The Grinch That Stole Christmas, and we thought the kids would enjoy it.

It turned out that it wasn’t the kids we needed to worry about, it was their parents. Five seconds after we walked through the doors, we got separated from everyone else. We stopped to admire an ice sculpture and take a family selfie, and they walked off and left us. They either didn’t notice we weren’t with them, or more likely didn’t care. And I’d venture to say it was Sasha’s mom leading the pack. She’s very headstrong and controlling, so you either follow her lead or get left behind. So, we got left behind. We received pictures later of Sasha and Misha together, enjoying themselves, but we don’t have a single one of all three kids together.

We did finally manage to briefly catch up to them again at the giant ice slide. I ran into both Misha’s dad and mom. Apparently, Sasha’s mom had taken the two girls up the stairs to the top of the slide. So, Troy and I got in line to do it as well. The girls came down, and then Sasha’s mom decided she didn’t want to wait or go again, and they all left. So, by the time Troy and I made it down, everyone was gone. Since they knew we were there, I can only feel that it was a conscious decision on their part to leave us. Annoyed by this point, I decided to forget them and have fun without them. So, Troy and I went down the slide again!

We kept going through the exhibit, appreciating the skill that went into bringing scenes from the beloved story to life. And when we finally made it out and into the gift shop, our group was nowhere to be found. My wife called Misha’s mom, so we could regroup, and we found out that not only had they left the exhibit, but they had left the resort entirely and were already in the car, driving away! Needless to say, we were very disappointed and upset. What was supposed to be a play date for the kids had turned into a parent’s agenda instead. Sasha’s parents were tired and wanted to go home. Misha’s parents were hungry and wanted to go eat.

Troy kept asking where his friends were throughout the exhibit, and it was hard to have to explain that we had no idea or that they had left us. He cared more about seeing them than seeing the ice sculptures, and the other parents robbed him of the chance. It’s sad, but I guess in the future, we’ll have to be more discerning with whom we invite to these things.

He Who Smelt It...

Troy: “Ewww, dada!”
Me: “What?”
Troy: “You tooted, and it stinks!”
Me: “I did not! That’s a lie!”
My Wife: “Did you toot?”
Me: “No, I’m innocent!”
My Wife: “I’m rolling the window down anyway.”
Me: “It wasn’t me!”
Troy [laughing]: “Dada’s stinky!”
Me: “You know, Troy, there’s an old phrase. ‘He who smelt it, dealt it.’ Or in other words, since you smelled it first, it was you!”
….
Me: “Oh my gosh, Troy, that’s disgusting!”
Troy: “I didn’t do anything.”
Me: “That’s horrible. It smells rotten.”
Troy: “Well, you know what they say, ‘if someone smells a toot, it was you.’”
Me: “That is not how that phrase goes!”
Troy [giggling]: “Tee, hee.”

Garden Veggie Moons

Troy: “Dada, the moon looks like a banana.”
Me: “Yeah, I guess it kind of does.”
Troy: “Why is there a banana in the sky?”
Me: “I don’t know, maybe there’s a giant monkey up there who’s going to eat it.”
Troy: “No, there’s not!”
Me: “I think there is. A monkey constellation, and he’s going to eat the moon.”
Troy: “He can’t eat the moon! We need it up there to keep the stars company.”
Me: “Okay, so, you’re saying he’ll have to eat the stars too. Got it!”
Troy: “Nooo!”
Me: “What do you think the moon tastes like?”
Troy: “We’re not going to eat it!”
Me: “But if we did. What do you think it tastes like? I bet it’s yummy.”
Troy: “I think it tastes like mud and dirt.”
Me: “No, I bet it tastes like cheese! Maybe a nice white cheddar or a garden veggie to give it some spice.”
Troy: “It doesn’t taste like cheese!”
Me: “How do you know? Have you ever tasted the moon?”
Troy: “No.”
Me: “Then, it could taste like cheese. You don’t know. Oh great! Now, I want some cheese.”

Purple Turkeys

Troy: “Look, dada! Look what I made today!”
Me: “It’s a turkey, cool.”
Troy: “I want to give it to mama to hang on the refrigerator.”
Me: “Cool. What’s this thing hanging down between his legs? Is that a tail?”
Troy: “No. He’s pooping.”
Me: “Oh…uh…why is it purple?”
Troy: “He had candy.”
Me: “I see. I’m sure mama will love it.”

Remote Control

Troy and I were in Walmart tonight when we came across a large pillow shaped like a gaming controller. Troy immediately pulled it out and started pretending to press the buttons and levers. All of a sudden, I started jerking my arms and legs around, pretending that he was controlling me with his controller. Of course, he jumped on the opportunity to make me do crazy things. Pretty soon, I was dancing, and twerking, and shimmying right in the middle of the main aisle at Walmart. I suddenly had a thought about what people walking by must think of me, and then I realized that I really didn’t care. I was playing with my son, and that’s all that mattered.

Nothing but the Blood

Troy: “What are those guys talking about?”
Me: “On the radio?”
Troy: “Yes.”
Me: “That nothing but the blood of Jesus can save you. He died for your sins. So, when you do things wrong, He’ll take your punishment for you. Isn’t that nice?”
Troy: “Yes. What does punishment mean?”
Me: “It’s the consequences when you do something bad. Like when we spank you, or take away your toys, or don’t let you watch TV.”
Troy: “But I always do the right thing.”
Me: “No, you don’t. None of us do. That’s why we need Jesus. He took our punishment, so we don’t get in trouble.”
Troy: “Mama spanks me a lot.”
Me: “No, she doesn’t. Has she ever spanked you?”
Troy: “Yes.”
Me: “When?”
Troy: “It’s been a lot of days.”
Me: “In other words…never.”

Peppa Pig's Playland

Knowing that it’s the kids last year together at Callier, we have been trying to have more and more play dates with them. So, today, we took them to Peppa Pig’s Playland at the Grapevine Mills Mall. It’s essentially just a large indoor playground, but it’s all themed around the Peppa Pig TV show.

Misha, Sasha, and Charlotte were all able to make it, while Jacob got sick at the last minute and had to bow out. The kids had fun for the most part, at least until a little drama started in the group. Troy and Misha had a falling out, probably because Misha was being bossy, so Troy didn’t want to play with her. He wanted to play with Sasha, but she didn’t want to leave Misha behind. Troy ended up going off alone to sulk. Sasha tried to find him, but then got sad when she couldn’t, so she ended up sitting in a corner alone. Charlotte didn’t like to see Sasha sad, so she went to find Troy to make Sasha happy. She did manage to locate him, but he told her to go away and leave him alone, so she started crying, because she didn’t understand. And Misha was running around trying to find everyone. I managed to talk to Troy, and eventually he brought everyone in the group back together, but it signaled an end to our time at the mall. We ended up splitting up soon after and going our separate ways. I guess not every play date can be drama-free.

Fear is Your Prey!

Troy: “Dada, where are we going today?”

Me: “Swim class and then ninja class.”

Troy: “I don’t like swim class.”

Me: “Why?”

Troy: “Because I’m scared. I don’t like swimming without my floaties.”

Me: “You don’t need to be scared of that. You can never reach truly great power until you cast off the shackles. The floaties are holding you back. Besides, you can’t let fear win. Are you a predator or prey?!”

Troy: “I’m a predator!”

Me: “That’s right! And fear is your prey! You must take him down and be victorious! Fear will not win! You eat fear for breakfast! You poop fear into the toilet! And what do we do with the poop when it’s in the toilet?!”

Troy: “We flush it.”

Me: “That’s right, we flush it! We flush fear down the toilet! We will make fear our poopy! Now, let’s do this! Hoorah!”

Troy [giggling]: “You’re weird, dada.”

Feel You Better

Troy: “Mama, I want to sleep with you, so I can take care of you. I can feel you better.”

My Wife: “You can feel me better?”

Troy: “Yeah, I can rub your tummy and feel you better.”

My Wife: “Thank you, baby.”

The Masterpiece

Me [stealing his towel]: “Come on, Troy. Let’s get your clothes on.”

Troy: “Ah! Mama, dada stole my towel!”

My Wife: “Naked baby! Naked baby!”

Troy: “Yeah, I’m a masterpiece!”

Me: “Yes, you are.”

My Wife: “God’s little masterpiece.”

Stinky Feet

Me: “Mama likes you, but I’m not sure why. You’re a turd.”

Troy: “You’re a turd!”

Me: “You’re mommy’s poopy!”

Troy: “You’re mommy’s poopy!”

Me: “You’re mommy’s stinky feet!”

Troy: “Ugh! Gross!”

Cultural Diversity

I took Troy to Stonebriar Centre again today. And of course he wanted to go to the play area. As I sat there watching him playing tag with a little Indian girl, I noticed several other similar games going on around the play area. Hispanic girls playing with white girls. Indian girls playing with white boys. Black girls playing with Korean boys. Muslim boys playing with Christian boys. Young kids playing with old kids. I realized that the play area transcends age, culture, gender, religion, and even language. It doesn’t matter where you come from or even if you can communicate with each other. Playing is universal, and kids don’t really care about that stuff. We could learn a lot from children. They just see people as people and don’t get hung up on differences or prejudices.

Chicken Attack!

Troy’s rubber chicken attacked me today. Apparently, he’s an expert at Krav Ma-GAWK!

Becoming a Man

Me: “Well, bud, I think you’ve finally outgrown these pants. They’re too short now.”

Troy: “Yeah, that’s because I’m growing up and becoming a man. I’m really strong. Strong like bull!”

Me: “Yes, you are. Yes, you are. And I’m so proud of you. Pretty soon you’re going to be bigger and stronger than dada.”

Troy: “Yeah, let’s fight!”

Me: “Hey, I can still take you! I’m not done just yet, little man!”

The Third Wheel

There are some nights like tonight when I feel trapped and unloved by my family. Nights when Troy is overly emotional, and I get to a point where I can no longer take his crying, temper tantrums, emotional outbursts, obsessive compulsiveness, and constant reminder of why his mother is better than I am. I mean after several hours of this, I think anyone would hit their limit. So, I try to do the healthy thing and extricate myself from the situation, so I can cool off and reset. Except my wife won’t step in and take over for me. She complains about not feeling well, which maybe I’d have more sympathy for if she hadn’t been saying the same thing every night for the last three weeks. (And if I’m being perfectly honest, she’s had some similar excuse for over a year now. If it’s not feeling poorly, then it’s being tired.)

So, I’m left with no option but to reengage with my son before I’ve had a chance to cool off. Which means that my fuse is extremely short and most likely I’m going to explode any moment now. I try to reset on the fly, but my son won’t let up on me, so I blow. And then, I’m angry at him for his behavior, and I’m angry at my wife for putting me in the situation. And while I’m laying in Troy’s bed fuming, my wife is downstairs peacefully asleep. Which let’s be honest, just pisses me off more.

Just once, I’d like to be important too. I’d like to not feel well, be tired, or just be having a bad day. And I’d like for someone to acknowledge it and give me a break.