Perfectionist ... reborn

In December 2000, about 6 months after I received my drivers license, I was in my first car accident.  I was driving too fast on slippery roads and I didn't see the cars stopped in front of me.  I hit the brakes, slid, swerved and ultimately rear ended the car in front of me.  We all walked (and drove) away and no one was hurt.  Well, at least not physically.  Emotionally, I was a wreck!  I was embarrassed.  Ashamed.  Guilty!  My Dad, bless his heart, said very little.  He didn't yell.  He didn't punish.  But I knew he was disappointed.  And that killed me.  Later that evening, some friends called and invited me to a movie.  And I distinctly remember saying "I can't.  I have to stay home."  My dad, overhearing the conversation asked "Why aren't you going?"

Was he crazy?  Did he forget so quickly the terrible thing I had just done?  I can't go out!  And then I realized what happened...

I had grounded myself.

[fast forward 12 years]

This evening as we were tucking Brooks into bed and praying, he was goofing around and playing with his slinky.  I quietly took it away and reminded him to show respect to Jesus while we were praying.  We finished and as Chris and I were leaving his room, Brooks runs to the door and says "Wait!  We need to finish praying!"

We did finish praying, buddy.

"No, we didn't!  We have to finish praying."

Again, we replied.  Yes, we did finish praying.  You just weren't paying attention.

He was quite adamant that we forgot to finish praying.  And despite us telling him several times that we did, and that he simply wasn't paying attention, he insisted we pray again.  So we did.  And said good-night.

Five minutes later we hear Brooks crying in his room.  Chris goes to check on him and he says "Daddy!  I'm sad that I didn't pay attention when we prayed."

It's ok, buddy.  Would you like to pray again now?

He did.  Brooks said a quick prayer and then gave his slinky to Chris and said "I shouldn't play with this anymore, should I?"  Chris told him he could have it, now that we were done praying.  Then Brooks said, "No. I shouldn't play with this.  You take this downstairs."

And that, is how my son punished himself. 

Crash Test Kid

Oh, my son.  In the last three days Carter has fallen off a kitchen chair on his head .... twice, fallen down a flight of stairs landing on his head, and pulled over a kitchen chair .... yep, on his head.  This on top of two burned (and blistered) fingers from a hair straightener.  Oh, and did I mention that he's teething and has a stuffy nose and cough?  Yeah.  He's had better days.

I really do admire his determination and sense of adventure.  (He's fallen down that same flight of stairs twice in the last few months, but he has no fear of stairs at all.)  I just wish he'd exercise just a tad more caution.  (sigh)  Better get used to this.  My only thought now ... where can I get this kid a helmet??

In time-out together (to the tune of "So happy together")

Carter is starting this naughty little habit of hitting when he's upset.  He'll hit the couch, toys, books and yes, Brooks too.  We've explained to him several times that he needs to have "nice touches" and "do not hit".  He understands.  I know he does.  He's smart.  But he's still learning to control his toddler-sized temper.  We're working on it.

Earlier today, Carter was upset about not being able to play with a toy Brooks was playing with.  So Carter smacked him right on the head.  I firmly said "Carter, NO."  And I put him in the time-out chair (aka the recliner)  He cried and cried.  But before I even had a chance to sit and talk with him, Brooks goes over to Carter and asks me, "Can I sit with Carter in time-out?"

Um, ok.  So there they sat.  Both of them.  In time-out.  Happy.  Hmmm.....

these smiles were NOT prompted

I had Carter say sorry and give Brooks a kiss, but it hardly seemed necessary.  Looks like all had been forgiven.  Then Brooks grabbed a book and "read" a story to Carter.

 Well, um, time-out's over I guess.

Rub a dub dub...

... two cute boys in a tub.

Daddy is in charge of bath time at our house.  And when Dad's in charge, there's always fun to be had.  In this case, the fun involved bubbles.  Lots and lots and lots of bubbles!!

up to their armpits in bubbles!

bubble hats!

Brooks, apparently, is hilarious.