Triple The Dad

Its January, which means we've turned the page on another year. Usually, that means new leaves overturned and resolutions. I did that last year. I did awful.  Some of that is events that transpired in November that I think impacted my writing (No, not the election, but its a story for a different time), but honestly, the failing failed fully before that; likely *checks stats* Yep; probably before that. So this year, I'm not doing Better Bryan. Call it a Better Bryan Break. This year, instead, I'm going to make all of YOU better. How, you ask? Good question. There is one thing that really bugs as a parent that a LOT of you are doing. And I realize, you are doing this as a kind act. You think this makes you a sweet and nice person and you probably pat yourself on the back a little when it happens. I'm here to tell you, you are secretly impeding the ability to raise safe kids while making my job as parent harder. Let me set the scene: I'm crossing the stree...

Let me kick this off by saying my kids are normal, well adjusted children who are awesome as well as being great learners. They are some of the most polite kids you will ever meet. Literally, people come up to us on almost every adventure out and compliment us on how well behaved our children are. Honestly, I think some of it is lowered expectations. I think most of them just expect triplets to behave like little monsters running around tasting other people's food at eateries and wildly running down the aisles of grocery stores knocking stuff off the shelves. So when ours behave like perfect little people, they are shocked. It is a point of pride among my wife and I. But sometimes, you can't win for trying. For instance. Each of our kids are a Kindle Fire they can play on (before you go to comment about screen time, they use them during "quiet time"). They are magicians on them. They teach themselves how to play games; they research new games; they have learned ...

Right off the bat I'm going to say I'm saddened by the shooting of Harambe, the silverback Gorilla who had the misfortune of encountering a human child in his pen. If given a choice between Harambe being alive and him being dead, and all other things being equal, I'd have living. We can argue over whether it was necessary to shoot Harambe right in that moment, but I think we can all agree his death could have been prevented in one way or another. But the meme going around suggesting Harambe was was doing a better job parenting than the child's actual parent? It isn't true. It has to stop. Few of us are veterinarians, and even fewer of those commenting on Facebook about Harambe's unfortunate end know a single thing about gorilla behavior. Was he protecting the child, endangering it, preparing to attack it? We don't know. That isn't  to say someone doesn't know. I'm sure some people can watch the video and figure it out, but the armchair parent...

You have days like this one , and it seems like, really seems like, you aren't going to do anything correct. You just aren't. And then you have a day where they play a game like the one shown in the picture. Some kind of amalgam between the game of checkers I had just shown them how to play and the game of chess they know I love. And to be honest, four has been pretty awesome. I was thinking about just how awesome as I scrolled through Facebook posts from other triplet Dads who have young ones and were, simply put, overwhelmed. For a sex that prides itself on motion and doing and energy and work, there were a lot of Dads who simply seemed at their breaking point in February. And that isn't to judge; handling triplets is hard. Damn hard. And yes, I once said about how three was the perfect age.  I  also once wrote "Preschool Not For Me School."   What do I know? I hadn't had four year olds yet. Kids are like what I imagine it was like when the first h...

I'm just going to say it: The five-second rule is real. We (or at least I) practice it in our household. Now, I realize that once food touches the floor, even for a second, it has probably 99% of the germs it would have if it was left there for a full minute. I'm not so naive to think that picking food up off the floor within some five-second time frame magically keeps germs away. Instead, I use it as a guideline of sorts for my kids. Kids are devilish little things. They have lots of questions. How come we can say "yellow dye" but not "you die"? How come we can eat candy after dinner but not for breakfast? How come we can eat some  food off the floor, but not other food. Well, I'm here to tell you the answer is the five-second rule. Again, its not a germ prevention thing. Lots of times I use this as a short hand. If an uncooked noodle falls on the floor and its there less than 5 second, I'm putting it in the pot for boiling. Hey, its getting...

"A moment of patience in a moment of anger saves you a hundred moments of regret." I read this on Facebook while I was working on this series. Talk about timing, right? Patience is defined as: the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset. My wife will tell you I sometimes accept delay or trouble too easily. And I sometimes do  lack urgency. Some of that is because I tend to become scattered when rushed. I've learned over the years that its better for me to go slow and get it right, or at least try, rather than rush and forget two things, go home and get them, only to realize I've forgotten a third thing. But for whatever reason, I struggle with this when it comes to the kids. Some of it is that the cacophony is incessant. I know every parent complains about this. And truthfully, every parent deals with it on some level. But some days... Its just all too much. The hundreds of questions, the fighting, the q...

Yesterday was a no good, very bad, day. Not just yesterday, the last two or three days, really. I'm not even sure why. I am sure I have not been a good Dad or person these last few days. Maybe I'm not sleeping well - though I think I am. Maybe I'm not happy - though I think I am. Maybe I'm stressed out - though I have no reason to be. Heck, January was the best month for this blog by nearly any measure. The Robes broke up shortly after this show. Our piano player was moody. I've been short with the kids. Little things that  really should  roll off my shoulders have dug claws in me, edging me toward irritation. I've snapped. I've raised my voice. I've been very, very short. To the point my daughter has had to remind me to "take a deep breath, Daddy." A short aside: I'm so, so very proud of her for that. Because it really does defuse the situation; it really takes me out of the moment and allows me to reset. But when your 4-year-old ...

Its a triplet parents worst nightmare, really. I only have triplets, so most of what I;m about to say about singletons is conjecture and assumption, but here goes: I imagine that when you have three kids of different ages its easy when only one of them is invited to a birthday party. Any younger child is probably interested in where an older sibling is going, but is easily refocused. Older children probably just don't care what a younger child is doing, but to the extent they are invested, I'd think its easy to explain to them. After all, they are probably in different schools, or at least different grades. They have different teachers, different classmates, and while they may share some friends, those are largely different as well. Not so with triplets When you have three kids all the same age they attend the same  school; often in the same class (as ours do). So when only one of them receives an invite, as our daughter did, its hard not  to feel slighted. After all, ...

First, let me say I don't know how single parents do it. I really can't imagine how single parents of multiple kids do it. I guess at least then you can ask the twelve-year old to watch the kids when you need that occasional time off. I guess. Still don't know how you manage it, but I guess. Secondly, let me just say that my kids are great. During a recent spout of illness by my wife they were quiet and played well and generally made life much, much easier on themselves, myself, and our family - right at a time when we needed it most. Kuddos kids. Thirdly, that my wife is pretty great as well. As a working Mom she struggles with many of the same things other working Moms struggle with: does she spend enough time with the kids; is she being enough of a "Mom." I was surprised that she struggled with that last one. She is a strong, reasonable, rationale woman (normally). But there she was on recent evening, asking me if she was a "good Mom."  Rather t...

Did you know kids hear the word “no” a staggering 400 times per day . No? You didn’t? Then think about that: 400 times per day. 2,800 times per week*. More than 11,000 times per month. Per year that comes to 132,000 times. That is a bunch. A soul crushing amount of rejection, even for a group of individuals deliberately challenging authority and seeking to locate the outer bounds of permissible behavior. No wonder parents often feel like they are constantly at odds with their kids. I’d like – love – to think we are a little different. We try to keep the “no” to a minimum. Now, before you go get your spouse so you can mock this crazy guy on the internet who sets no rules for his kids and is bound to raise delinquents, hear me out. We might well be hippies raising future delinquents; or drones raising management material. As with all things, how you view yourself and how you actually act can be eye opening, but stick with me. You see, rather than say “no,” we t...

Recently I was featured as a “Brilliant Dad” over at diydaddyblog.com . That isn’t to brag. I think the bar for parenting is pretty low.   Despite this, I don’t feel very brilliant most days.  That is the truth. I see so many posts on twitter and on blogs about parenting by “instinct.”  But what if my instincts are all wrong? As I said in my Brilliant Dad feature, I’m not sure I’m constructed to really parent well. I’m a bit of a loner; I’m a bit introverted; I need alone time to “recharge,” and without it I can be short tempered. I’m frustrated when people can’t follow directions. None of these are great qualities to have as a parent.  That last one is pretty much the definition of four year olds and nothing will make you butt heads with a four-year old faster than acting  like a four-year old. And so my instinct is to do it myself; at least when I’m not sighing and expressing anger. Because I need that recharge time, I find myself strugg...