YOU CAN'T! YOU NEVER WILL!

I CAN'T! 

You CAN'T!

CAN'T. CAN'T. CAN'T!

There's NO way!

You'll NEVER make it!

NEVER. NEVER. NEVER!

Powerful words right? Especially to the fragile psyche of a child.

I don't know about you but when I was growing up it was always reiterated to me to keep that negativity out of my thoughts. Not just by my parents but by my teachers and coaches too. We don't say "CAN'T."

Don't use such negative words.

 Focus on the positive. 

You've probably heard the old saying, "Can't never did anything"  or "Never say Never." There are tons of similar ones. Well, from my experiences as a father, I happen to wholeheartedly disagree with those sayings.

I've seen CAN'T do a lot. It's power is impressive. It NEVER ceases to amaze me.

You're probably thinking that I am about to warn you about using these negative words with your children. However, that is not the case at all. I actually think words like CAN'T and NEVER get a bad rap. They can be some of the most motivating and encouraging words you could imagine. It really just depends on your perspective and who/where these words are coming from. Both of my boys have helped me learn this lesson over the past few years.

Don't get me wrong. None of us parents want our children moping around dwelling on the fact that he can't tie his shoes or she can't write her name or a million other things a child might be struggling with. I understand that. I'm not a complete idiot...close...but not complete. At the same time though, I don't think we should be teaching our children that words like can't and never are negative words. I think it's a good thing when a child recognizes that he/she can't do something and it's our job as parents to find a way to teach and motivate them.

I still remember the first time I heard my oldest son Cooper say "I can't." 

We were potty training. He was 2.

I instinctively replied, "We don't say I can't." 

I was frustrated. He was frustrated.

Potty training was one of our toughest challenges with him. I immediately wondered where he learned to say those words and why he was so easily ready to give up.

Then I said, "You CAN do it. I KNOW you CAN," in the most encouraging voice possible. I could tell that he could feel the positivity but it just didn't motivate him to try harder. This happened often. It was very discouraging for me as I'm sure it was for him. I remember thinking about how my wife and I are two of the most encouraging people I know. I wondered how could he possibly not find motivation in our encouraging words? We worked so hard to create the most encouraging atmosphere possible.

 If only I knew the power of can't and never at this point in my parenting adventure...

I made this discovery in the backyard one day a year or so later. It came from my complete and utter desperation to instill a love of sports in my children. We were playing baseball. Hitting from the tee. Cooper was losing interest. He started to notice every grasshopper and love bug in sight. I was losing him fast. The battle between father sports and  mother nature was about to be won by mother nature by KO with the help of her interesting little creatures.

That's when this Dad did some quick thinking. I started with a condescending laugh to get his attention. Then, when he looked over at me, I followed it up speaking the words, "You CAN'T hit a home run. There's NO way!" in the same condescending tone with a sneaky smile on my face. In my head I was thinking that those were the least encouraging words I had ever spoken to my son and I had no idea how he would react. Luckily for me, he saw it as a challenge just as I had hoped. At that moment, his face instantly lit up and he replied, "OH YES I CAN!" He stepped up to the tee and knocked one to the fence. I retrieved the ball and chased him to home plate just missing the tag before he got his home run. I dog piled on top of him and made a huge deal about how well he had done. Then I picked him up and we celebrated. He just giggled and beamed with pride. So did I. Cooper wins! Cooper wins!

Daddy wins actually! I never could have imagined how motivating the words "YOU CAN'T" could be for a child. I'm sure all children are not this way and I'm sure if I didn't have such a positive and always encouraging relationship with my children that these words would not have been interpreted in a positive challenging way, but I do... and they were.

To be honest, I don't think more motivating words have ever been spoken in our house. Turns out, my 2 year old, Fletcher, finds motivation in these words as well. Trying to get Fletcher to eat a whole meal of food at the dinner table is like trying to solve a Rubik's Cube. He would take a few bites, lose interest and start stuffing each bite into his cheek like a squirrel storing nuts. Take one guess at our most effective means of getting him to actually chew and swallow those stored nuts?

You guessed it.

Look at him with a shocked look on my face. Gasp aloud. Issue the challenge: "Fletcher! You can't chew up and swallow that bite! I say NO WAY!"

That gullible little joker bites every time. Both literally and figuratively. "I say YES way" he replies. Then he starts chewing his little heart out, which is frustrating. Why on earth does it take a challenge for you to chew up your food, son? Do you enjoy just sitting there holding food in your cheek wasting time at the dinner table? Really?

Are you kidding me? Oh well, I guess I can't complain.

It's safe to say that we use this technique quite often.

When the play room is a wreck: "Oh no boys, we're NEVER gonna get this place clean. I don't think we can do it!"

When hurrying to the bath: "If only you could take your clothes off and get in the bath by yourself before I count to twenty. You CAN'T can you? I don't think so."

When putting on lotion and pajamas or sunscreen: "You CAN'T freeze like a statue. Nope. No way. Not gonna happen. I don't think you can do it."

etc. etc. etc.

It may not work for your kids but it sure works for my little guys. I guess it all depends on their personality. Give it a shot if you'd like, you never know what might work. Remember, It's all in your delivery. I certainly had no idea these words would be so helpful. The next time you think about these words as negative words stop yourself and give them a little credit.

CAN'T. CAN'T. CAN'T.

NEVER. NEVER. NEVER.

A tremendous thank you. You're not so bad after all.

DD

DISCIPLINE: It's okay Dad. You're doing the right thing.

Oh man! 

Parenting is the best. It really is. There is nothing like it. It's the most rewarding thing in the world. There is no way to understand a parents love until you become one. I love my kids more than life itself.

Sound familiar?

If you are a parent you've probably said all of these things and you've probably said them multiple times at some point or another along your parenting journey. You probably also meant them too because they are all true statements.

However, parenting is not only the most rewarding thing in the world. It's also somehow simultaneously the most frustrating thing in the world too. I'm not breaking any news. I'm sure this also sounds familiar. In parenting circles we typically replace the word "frustrating" with the word "challenging" because we don't like to admit that the children we spend most of our time trying to convince others are angels, are actually not. They are nowhere close. I guess challenging is a much more positive word and it makes us parents, especially those of young children, feel like we haven't been defeated...yet. Truth is, they are VERY frustrating and its okay to admit that.

Why? Because once you've spent enough time around a two year old you come to the realization that it's a lot like being in a relationship with a tiny bipolar tyrant midget who doesn't speak English very well and makes way too many demands for someone who has such a major deficiency in the tenure department.

The good news is that we, as parents, hold the power to turn these tiny tyrants into human beings who resemble something a whole lot closer to angels than belligerent drunks with an attitude problem. That's where DISCIPLINE comes in. Ah, yes, it is such a necessary evil. There is nothing I look forward to LESS than disciplining my boys. It's simply in my nature to be loving and fun and nurturing and I don't feel like any of those things when I'm sending my boys to time out or God forbid, giving them a spanking. However, I also understand that implementing and adhering to a sturdy set of rules teaches a child his boundaries and if followed through on, one day turns him into an accountable young man.

The above picture is what we're trying to prevent down the road. I don't think they'd look near as happy in real jail.

We are a time out family. Nine times out of ten time out is an effective way to discipline both of our boys (ages 2 and 4). Taking away a privilege is another effective tool and a spanking is certainly not out of the question but it is used as a last resort and rarely do we visit that resort. (Hmmm, speaking of resorts, visiting a "resort" sounds nice right about now.) 

Anyway, consistently disciplining your children is tough. Resisting the temptation of letting a threat become empty may seem mean and unnecessary at the time, but it's actually the best thing you can do for your child.  I always thought the whole, "This is gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you" thing was a bunch of hippy dippy bologna but it turns out there's a whole lot of truth to it. We all just  want to see our kids be happy and the last thing we want is to be the cause of unhappiness. Unfortunately, when we follow through on our disciplinary threats, our children associate that unhappiness directly with us. Who knew it was this tough to be on the other end of the discipline?

Like any difficult part of life a little encouragement  goes a long way. My wife and I do a great job of communicating our feelings to one another as we discipline our boys and it helps to keep us on the same page and keep us accountable for our actions. We are firm believers in disciplining out of necessity and teaching rather than disciplining out of anger or frustration. Our boys understand that we love them tremendously as we discipline them because we always make sure to communicate that to them but sometimes it's a little more challenging when both of us aren't home.

Tonight my wife was on a girls night and I was home alone with the boys. My two year old, Fletcher, was being especially challenging at the dinner table. Something I'm very used to. Fletcher had a rough go at it for the first six or eight months of his life. You can read about that here. Since then, however, he's been such a perfect addition to the family... except for at the dinner table. If it's not a pop tart, grilled cheese or cereal he usually does not want to eat it. It really just depends on the night. Tonight he was doing his typical "store the food in the cheek like a squirrel and no one will notice I'm not actually swallowing" routine. Needless to say, the stash of "nuts" in his cheek built up and I wasn't in the mood. So I hastily sent him to time out and told him he could come out after he swallowed his bite. We went back and forth for a good thirty minutes and my 4 year old, Cooper, devoured his meal and began to play. 

At this point I began to get discouraged. Doubt started to creep into my mind. Was I being too hard on him? Should I just give in and let him eat something else? Is he just exhausted? I really wanted it to be a fun night and this was the furthest thing from fun. What should I do? I didn't have my partner in crime, my wife, there to ask for advice. Just then I heard the sweet voice of my innocent little four year old from a few feet behind me

"It's okay Dad. You're doing the right thing."

What?!?!

Did he really just say that?!

Yes he did.

Is he infinitely wise beyond his years?!

I don't know if he said it because he thought that's what mom would have said if she was here or if it's something he's seen on a movie, or if he was just really enjoying watching his little brother get sent to time out, but whatever it was, it really helped. It helped me remember that I was fighting the good fight and that this would pay off in the long run as long as I was coming from a place of love.

I just replied to him, "Thanks buddy." and he said, "You're following the instructions."

At that point I began to wonder if his mother had left a set of instructions that I wasn't aware of.

Probably.

Oh well.

I just gave him a big hug and carried on, feeling encouraged, and knowing that I was doing the right thing.

Who are the people with the belly buttons?

There's been a question floating around my house for the past 6 months or so that has caused me to do a little thinking. The same question has been asked in multiple different ways by my 4 year old son. It actually started when he was 3...

"Hey Daddy, who are the people with the belly buttons?"

"Where are the people with the belly buttons?"

"Can we see the girls with the belly buttons again?"

"Why do those girls wear the shirts that show their belly buttons?"

You get the point. He's quite inquisitive about the girls who show their belly buttons. 

Cheerleaders.

My wife and I are big sports fans, as you may already know if you know us personally or if you follow the Dashboard Dad Blog. We're constantly watching sports and our two boys have been exposed to just about every team sport imaginable. I honestly never even notice the cheerleaders anymore. Seriously, I don't...or at least I didn't until my son started pointing them out and asking questions everytime the game would come back from commercial break. He's even asked me to rewind the TV before.

Recently, we've been watching a lot of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Go Lightning! That's hockey for you non sports fans. He asked me the other night if hockey had cheerleaders. I told him no and he seemed disappointed. 

"Oh, just football and basketball?"

When he first asked the question about the people with the belly buttons I didn't know exactly what he was talking about but it didn't take long for me to figure it out. My initial reaction was pure excitement.

"That a boy!"

Like any red blooded heterosexual American Dad, I was proud. I still am.

My son is obviously attracted to the female body.

Scratch the alternative off the list of potential issues that I'm severely unprepared to handle.

Oh, wait a minute, My 3 year old son is attracted to the female body!?!?!

Uh Oh!!

Add that to the list of potential issues that I'm severely unprepared to handle!!!!

Oh boy. Is he going to be girl crazy? Is he going to come home from Kindergarten and tell his mother and I that he has 5 girlfriends, like I told my parents?!

Probably.

Who knows.

I just had this flash forward to him as a teenager "checking out chicks" with his friends or little brother. Whoa! I wasn't prepared for this. 

I'm not here to take some moral highground and say that cheerleaders or swim suit models should wear more clothes. It doesn't bother me. I just find it very interesting that, with no outside influence from me or anyone that I know of, a 3 year old boy naturally finds a womans body to be attractive enough to cause him to grin sheepishly and inquire about it.

We also had an occasion a little over a month ago when our family was on vacation in Hawaii and he saw a swimsuit model on a poster at a store and he froze in his tracks to check her out. When I asked him what he was looking at he replied,

 "Uhh, nothing Daddy!!"

He seemed embarassed; like he got caught doing something he shouldn't. I certainly don't want him to feel like being attracted to the body of a woman is something he should feel any amount of shame about. On the other hand, I don't want him to go too far to the other extreme where he just gawks at women all the time. I tried to explain to him that he wasn't in trouble and it was okay if he thought the girl on the poster was pretty. I told him that Daddy thinks girls are really pretty, ESPECIALLY HIS MOMMY! He just smiled and asked why the lady on the poster wore a shirt that showed her belly button and I explained to him that is just how girls bathing suits look and we carried on.

There are so many things you just never think about before becoming a parent. This is certainly one of them. I guess it's true that this is something that probably wouldn't have even crossed his mind yet if we lived in a more conservative society, but we don't. I'm not going to waste my time wishing that we did because I don't think it's necesarilly a problem. Of course, I'm also not a father of daughters. Sorry guys.

I'm just going to teach my son to respect women no matter what and make sure he is well aware that he can talk to his dad about anything... even if he is only 4 years old. It's never too early to start that open line of communication.

So, what do you think? Do you have any similar experiences to share? Does this seem early to be asking this type of question? 

I look forward to reading your input. Until next time- DD

The Ultimate Sacrifice

If you do a quick Google image search with the words, "The Ultimate Sacrifice" you will be met by a barrage of pictures depicting Jesus dying on the cross and soldiers giving their lives for our freedom. It's actually quite humbling and something we should remind ourselves of and be grateful for on a daily basis. This is not something I expected to encounter while preparing for this blog post, but I'm glad I did.

 That being said, I'd like to share with you a completely different type of "Ultimate Sacrifice" that was made for my big brother and me when we were approximately 4 and 8 years old respectively. This was a sacrifice that I will never forget. A sacrifice that I am eternally grateful for and a sacrifice that taught me a life lesson that stuck with me some 30 years later.

I hope that one day when the time comes (and I know it will) I am able to quickly access this memory from the recesses of my brain so I can successfully grab this specific situation by the handle bars of life and make the right decision.

Come, will you?

Step inside my DeLorean.

Allow my flux capacitor to whisk us away in the carpool lane back to sometime around the year 1984. ( I know. I know, I've got to stop with these Back to the Future references. A bad habit I'm trying to break.)

The following is based on a true story:

Meet my parents.

Stacy & Susie

They are both 71 years of age now but I wanted to introduce you to to them back in 1984. As you can tell, my mom was (still is) a beauty and my dad was basically the Harry Styles of his day. Total Dreamboat. A true power couple...like a white Kim and Kanye...

Okay, that derailed quickly.  Let's re-focus.

My parents are amazing. I am so grateful for them. Throughout my childhood and adolescence they bent over backward (and sometimes forward) to teach me valuable life lessons. I feel so fortunate that they cared so much about the kind of adult I turned out to be. They invested so much time and effort into me, put my well being ahead of their own and sacrificed so much to ensure that I became an honorable man.

I'd like to share with you this one particular instance that, in my opinion, is the closest thing to an "ultimate sacrifice" that anyone has ever made for me.

One might assume that an "ultimate sacrifice" made by a parent for a child would be giving birth; A mother giving up the body of her youth for the well-being of her child. Perhaps the unconditional love of a mother who moved from the big city to a one red light town and gave up a career as the next Prudential Woman of the Year to stay at home with her four cubs to love, nurture and nourish them daily.

While these are all honorable undertakings. They fall just shy of the sacrifice that was made on a fateful summer day in 1984...

 My Dad was at work. My dear mother was watching over my brother, myself and a few other young children she cared for regularly. My oldest sister and her boyfriend stopped by the house in his 1970 Chevelle hot rod. It was your typical muggy Florida summer afternoon. The kind of day that you could just sense the afternoon thunderstorms approaching. Before you could ever see the clouds billowing in through the giant trees, you could smell the rain as it descended upon the damp leaves, dirt and sweet gum balls in the front yard of our Lake Geneva home.

What none of us knew is the fact that we were about to be hit with the storm of the decade in our quaint little town. The storm  was on top of us in a flash. There was no warning; no time to prepare. My mother's sixth mommy sense alerted her to the fact that this storm was not like our typical afternoon thunderstorm. The wind packed an extra punch. The lightning flashed with a fierce fury and the thunder shook the earth to it's very core.

As the bottom fell out of the sky, she ran outside to the front yard and herded us like cattle into the bathtub, which she designated as the safest place in our home. Soon after, branches snapped atop power lines. Power lines lost their battle with gravity and fell to the ground like angry electric snakes striking wildly in all directions. An entire sweet gum ball tree (so big you couldn't wrap your arms around it) a mere 5 feet from our home, was uprooted. It came crashing down like the foot of a giant Tyrannosaurus...right on top of my sister's boyfriend's car.

Ouch.

He was devastated!

We were frightened!

The storm eventually passed and everyone was okay. The only casualty was the car.

My mother was a local folk hero!!!

Well, that last sentence might be a slight exaggeration...

While my mom will always be a hero to me, she admitted that she really just did what any adult would or should do in a situation like this. She also admitted that the bathtub she put us in was in the corner of the house closest to the tree that came crashing down and if it had fallen in a different direction, we all could have been smashed. Thank God that didn't happen.

If my mom's "heroics" were really just a parent taking the proper precautions for children during a storm with above average intensity, then what is this "ultimate sacrifice" I keep talking about?

Well, that, you see, came a few days later by my father after the crushed car was removed from our driveway and the long neck of this dinosaur like tree remained in our front yard.

What were we going to do with this thing?!?

...I know Mom. Dad always gets to be the hero and it's just not fair. I'm sorry. I even led everyone to believe that you were the hero and yet again, here comes Dad flying in like E.T. on Elliot's bike to  save the day and take all the credit. I understand and maybe there is something I can do to make it up to you in the future. For now let's get back to the story at hand...

Keep in mind that I was approximately four years old at the time and this is by no means a direct quote from my father, but I like to imagine that this is what he said next...Wait! Before I tell you... Did I mention that my dad is brilliant? Well, he is...here goes:

"I'll tell you what were gonna do with that old dead tree sitting in the yard. We're gonna take this here metal ramp, lean it against the tree and the boys can use it to launch themselves over the tree for hours upon hours upon days upon days of fun."

OH!!! We were so excited! It doesn't even matter what happens next. Dad was already our hero just for suggesting it.

There we were standing in the yard. The four of us: Dad, Mom, my brother Stacy and myself.

This was about to be the greatest day of our lives; The pinnacle of fun in my short life to this point here on earth. This storm was the best thing that ever happened to us. This tree was about to become like a family pet; A part of the family. I could envision years of ramping into the sunset before Mom called us in for dinner.

I could hear myself now,

"Just one more jump Mom and I'll be in for dinner. Just one more jump."

I could even hear her reply,

"Honey, you've been ramping that old tree for hours. This is the LAST time. That old tree will be there tomorrow. It's not going anywhere."

Then, just before I was about to hit that ramp for the first time and fly like Evil Knievel over the Grand Canyon, I heard Dad speak the words that changed everything:

"Hold on Son, let your old Dad show you how it's done."

Brilliant Idea. I told you he was brilliant.

There's no better person to learn from; No better person to take the inaugural flight.

You have to understand that my dad was perfect. My dad could fix anything. My dad caught the biggest fish. My dad threw the best spiral. He had the best jump shot.  He could bare foot ski. My dad could beat up your dad but he probably wouldn't fight your dad because my dad was smarter than your dad and he knew that fighting doesn't resolve anything. I'm telling you... he was perfect.

We stood back to let the man do his thing. He circled around to gain enough speed to launch into orbit. He hit the ramp with such precision. He launched into the air like a dolphin breaching beautifully for all to see. He stuck the landing like Kerri Strug on a bum ankle in the 1996 Olympics...

...Only he was on a bike. When I say he stuck the landing I really mean he STUCK the landing. He slid off the bike seat and completely and utterly...

racked his nuts...

 like I've never seen before or since.

I was 4 years old. I didn't know exactly what was going on. All I knew is that my dad was DOWN FOR THE COUNT! Moaning, groaning and "OH NO-ing."

As my mom ran to check on her wounded dare devil in distress she paused only for a moment and said six words in a tone of voice we knew not to question.

"Boys, go inside the house NOW!''

I don't remember much else after that. The tree was removed before we knew it or it may as well have been. We were forbidden to touch, look at, or think about that tree that almost stole my father's manhood. Now that I think about it, I am the baby of the family. I wonder if that was by choice or if the tree made that decision for them. Either way, I'm glad I'm the baby. Maybe I owe that tree a thank you.

Oh what could have been?!?

The friendship with the tree was over before it began.

Although I've always been seriously disappointed that I never got to ramp the giant tree, I like to think that my Dad saved me and my brother from a few major injuries. It makes me feel  better about the whole thing anyway. He sacrificed his "boys" for his boys, if you know what I mean. That takes an unconditional love that I'm not sure I fully grasp.

Although I know my dad never got flowers, never became America's sweetheart and certainly never got put on the cover of a Wheaties box for this ultimate sacrifice, I like to think that my mom did her best Bela Karolyi impression and carried him into the house to a nice warm bath and some painkillers.

Dad ended up being just fine. No real injuries to speak of.  Maybe just his pride. We realized our dad was not invincible, but he was still our hero. To this day when this story comes up my brother and I just laugh like little kids.

Thanks Dad. (for multiple reasons)

You will forever be to me what Kerri Strug was to our Nation back in 1996...

A Champion who's not afraid to make the ultimate sacrifice.

I wish we were all reading this together. We'd be laughing our balls off... or at least the rest of us would be.

I guess sometimes the most effective parenting tool is the ability to teach a child what not to do, like the dad of the Berenstain Bears. That guy was always teaching those kids what not to do. Let's just hope the sacrifice you make while teaching this lesson is minimal. As a father of two young boys myself, I hope that I am able to resist those, "Let your old dad show you how it's done" moments, no matter how tempting they may be.

Have any of you parents out there had any similar situations?