Fist Bump to the Eastland Parents

During times of self doubt, I sometimes question if I am more a glorified baby sitter than a parent. What I mean is that I provide all of their basic needs (food, clothing, shelter...), I play with them, give them loads of affection, watch out for their safety, and try to mold them into well adjusted people. Of course it's easy to love them: they are adorable, funny, smart, creative, and most importantly they return love unconditionally. Honestly, though, it doesn't take a parent to provide these things; any care taker can perform these tasks with love and compassion.

On occasion, however, certain events take place that really validate my role as a parent. For instance when Jack was having an allergic reaction to eggs and therefore was up all night throwing up I was actually able to focus more on him than the mess...this was a huge feat for me because I am SO squeamish when it comes to those kind of messes. I had another incidence occur this morning, when after I made my eggs and was just about to take a bite, Jack told me that he had to go use the potty. Seeing his bow legged/tippy toe walk, I realized that he had already gone. Ohmygosh!, and without going into too many details (and honestly, who wants to immortalize these kind of things), it was a disaster! Jack was pretty calm, and just kept saying, "Gracious! It's a lot of poopies!", and I stayed really calm and never became frustrated or disappointed that he made a mistake. I kind of just acted without thinking: urgently taking care of him first then the bathroom, and the whole time keeping Bailey out of the way because she really wanted to help clean up (yuck!).

A couple of minutes later, after I washed my hands, I ate my breakfast, and it dawned on me that I am truly a parent when I can clean up the toxic waste in the bathroom without hesitation, and Jack went on to play like everything was ok. I was really proud of myself for not loosing my cool (something I am very capable of doing), and not making a frustrating and gross situation worse, or traumatic for Jack. I know that during all the times of babysitting (and I was the babysitting queen in high school), if I had been presented with this same situation I would have panicked, called the parents, and left the kids naked in the tub until his or her mom or dad came home. (Ok, I hope it wouldn't have been that bad, but I know I would have panicked, and probably shed a few tears!)

I am reading the book called Cesar's Way which is sort of a dog training book by the "Dog Whisperer, Cesar Millan (he has a show on National Geographic, and his motto is that he rehabilitates dogs and trains humans). It's kind of a Tuesdays with Morrie for dogs and their humans. The main lesson I am getting from this book is that to love your dog is a two way street. Just giving them a ton of affection (and feeding them), though it may fulfil your needs as a human, will not fulfill of your dog's needs. To have a true connection with your pet and really to show true love is to respect the needs first of your dog, which is basically letting them be dogs rather than small furry children. I feel like even though this book was meant to help people have better relationships with their pets, I think it can help people understand how to have better relationships with humans, too. I think there are a lot of lessons in this book that can help us be better parents, spouses, and friends.

Rich sent out this email which I think is absolutely hilarious, but it also proves that he is also truly a parent, and I am so proud of how he handled this situation (and kind of glad I wasn't there!).

"Date: Monday, August 25, 2008, 6:27 PM

So here's a quick update on my household and the chaos that is potty-training Jack. First of all, Jack is awesome. He doesn't love sitting in the "potty-chair", however he has very few accidents so we are optimistic that the training is moving in the right direction. On Sunday, we had a minor setback. My dad and I took him fishing for the first time, and he loved it. The trip went great and I believe that Bridget will update the blog with the details. http://snackersandsnookums.blogspot.com. After the fishing trip we took Jack to Burger King for a snack and so he could play in their kids area. In case you don't know, Burger King has an elaborate plastic kids area with tunnels and slides, which is all indoors (a nice change from the outdoor play equipment from my era. No longer is the slide super hot from the sun, or dripping wet from the rain.) Anyway, at some point Jack crawled up to the second level of the play area. He was having a grand time when his expression suddenly changed, and he yelled, "Daddy help". Now a little background on Jack: he has been stuck in a play area once before back when Bridget was 9 months pregnant with Paige, resulting in me leaving work early to drive across town to crawl through a smelly, plastic, claustrophobic maze. The entire time, other people's children are crawling over me. So when Jack cried out at Burger King, I mistook his alarm as panic for being trapped once again. Only this time before I entered the play area, a little puddle formed around his feet. OK, so I grabbed a handful of napkins and put on my best "Indiana Jones expression" and ventured into the labyrinth. I quickly discovered that it is near impossible for adults to maneuver through this network of plastic, and I found myself wondering how the hell they clean in here. The smell of BO seemed to radiate from the plastic; I guess that after thousands of kids running, climbing, and sweating in a closed environment this would occur. I too started to sweat, and after negotiating a plastic slide with rubber grips that serves as both a slide and ladder, I made it to the second level. I got to Jack and started to mop up the puddle around his feet when a new horror arose. Apparently, Jack had more than urine in his underwear. And to make the situation even more critical, two kids had just arrived and were crawling all over the plastic tunneling. I quickly forced Jack down the slide/ ladder to my dad who was waiting at the bottom. This was not a pretty undertaking, and I will spare you the details. Let's just say that several more napkins had to be handed to me so I could clear a way out. Once free of the play area, I informed the Burger King staff that my son had an accident and that they might want to call a HAZ-MAT unit. They told me that they would close off the play area until it could be cleaned. I thought a better solution would be to burn down the entire restaurant just to be sure, but the manager assured me that this type of thing happens from time to time. I then spent the next 15 minutes washing Jack's shorts in the sink with hand soap to return them to a color resembling khaki. My dad, the saint that he is, spent his time getting Jack cleaned off. We then rushed Jack home to give him a proper bath and me a proper drink. I think Jack escaped the whole situation without any long term emotional scaring. As for me, I found myself thinking that every father has his own battle stories and what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. This is why I drink.

Rich"

Way to go Us! Hopefully Rich won't be suffering from PTSD because of this horror, but he seems to be coping well almost a week later (the drinking he mentioned was really non-existent).