Darth Gabus

This isn't a deep insightful post. (Neither are the rest of them, Staples. Move on, move on.)

I love my kids. I don't think that is a surprise to anyone out there. I think all of them are just awesome. I have really enjoyed getting to know Gabe as he has gotten older and developed his own unique personality. And that personality is a fink. He is just crazy - absolutely nuts. He is also brilliant, and he is very mechanically inclined. He can unlock our cell phones, Heather's iPod Touch, basically any electronic gadget. He can open every unlocked item with batteries and get the batteries out. He also has learned how to switch the sound off of the television - usually right in the middle of something important. I mean, he's such a sweet and funny kid. But he's a full fledged fink.

I gave him the nickname "Darth Gabus" a while back. My theory before he was born was that he was going to become the ringleader. He would just sit back with his dark cloak and give the other two suggestions and then laugh as they took the blame. I see nothing to disprove this. In fact, it seems like he is well on his way. Not to say that he doesn't do his own damage.

• When I change his diaper, I will say, "I need to clean your butt." (Don't judge me.) Well, naturally he has learned to say butt. "Butt butt" Now whenever he gets his diaper changed "butt butt." When he gets a bath "butt butt." At first he was confused, uh, what side of his body his "butt butt" was on. He was walking by and I said, "Hey Gabe, where's your butt?" He stopped, looked at me, grabbed the front of his shorts like he was a smack-talking wrestler and goes "butt butt butt." Noooooo. Well, I think he figured it out now. We were wrestling around on the ground the other day. After he was done, I was laying on my stomach. I guess my shorts had slid down a little, because next thing I know, he walked by and stopped next to me. He poked my backside, said "butt butt" and raced down the hallway.
• At night, Gabe does not want to ever go to bed. He'll stay up as long as he can stand up. He's tired, and you can tell because he starts to do stuff wrong. He'll go to the pantry and open it and pull stuff out and throw it all over. He'll pull DVDs down off the bookcase. He'll open drawers, turn off the TV sound, bang on my computer, open the dishwasher, dance around to any music on the television. It is like a human whirlwind. The whole point is to keep busy and play like crazy. UNLESS.... If for some reason Natalie or Josiah has climbed up into Heather's lap for any reason, Gabe will know and race over to her and start whining, crying, screaming to get held. He'll get pulled up there and sit there for a couple minutes and then get back down and run away. He just doesn't want anyone else up there. He is very jealous of Mommy's time.
• Today after my shower, I had not put my shirt on yet. I was playing around with Gabe and the other kids on the bed. I had gotten onto the floor and covered myself with a blanket. My arms were on the bed with my chin resting on the bed. The older two kids started sliding down my back. Darth Gabus had different plans. He started to headbutt me every time I peeked out of the covers. After about five good whacks, he started to stomp on my head. It was like something out of old WWF. It didn't hurt too bad, just this kid maniacally laughing while stomping on my head. I finally sat up and said "You know what? I've had enough of this." He saw his chance and raced across the bed, grabbed both of my nipples in his little hands and yanked. A double purple nurple. You beginning to understand the name now?

And, yes, we're loving every minute of it.

In The Words of Kids: BE CAREFUL LITTLE MOUTH WHAT YOU SAY

As anyone who spends any time with me has probably realized, I don't always use the best language.  Sure, I have gotten rid of the curse words that peppered my speech for the better part of five years in high school and college.  But I replaced a lot of those words with what some may describe as "euphemisms."  While they are not "bad" words, they are not professional or cultured.  I have tried to cut back on the number of these words, but have not been too successful for some reason.

Well, it seems that I have a reason now to work harder - actually three reasons.  My kids have a nasty habit of hearing people's word choices and repeating them.  This doesn't just go for me - but for all people they see.  Oh, and the television.  I never realized the minefield that Peanuts television specials were until my kids starting going around calling each other "Blockhead" and saying how "stupid" things were - or my son telling a kid at school that he was going to "slug" her.  (Yes, HER.  Don't worry.  We had a NICE chat about that one.)  Funny how they weren't quick to memorize Linus' recitation of the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke.

Yesterday, I had an experience with this AGAIN - this time with my four year old daughter, Natalie.  I was sitting on the couch trying to get some work done, and she came traipsing in to see me.  Actually, she wanted to see the bowl of candy sitting on the piano.  "Daddy, can I have one of these little candy canes?"  My ears perked up.  Candy?  Here?  Ooooo.  So I looked over to the piano and saw a little bowl of mini candy canes.  Immediately I remembered that Heather had told me the other day she had bought fruity candy canes.  Even better.  I hate those peppermint ones.

Now my brain was in full planning mode.  I could accomplish two of my huge goals in life - not getting up and scoring candy.  So, I tossed a question out to determine how best to get myself some sweet treats.  "What kinds are there, Nat?"  She just looked at me, and in her not-sweetest tone replied, "What?"  I knew she had no clue, so hollered into the other room to Heather.  "What flavors of candy canes are these?"  Heather called back, "Um, I think there is pineapple, apple, watermelon, and grape."

[Taking a moment here, let me explain why the upcoming exchange happened.  When it comes to hard candy, I am pretty picky.  I know that you may not believe it by looking at me.  You would think I will eat just about anything that comes close to my face.  But that isn't true.  I am very picky about hard candy flavors.  I like cherry and orange and lemon - most of the time.  I HATE Jolly Ranchers and all their iterations.  I used to love Life Savers - especially the Five Flavors pack.  It had Cherry, Orange, Lemon, Lime, and Pineapple - which was always tolerable, but the fifth best flavor.  And I H-A-T-E apple, green apple, sour apple AND watermelon.  Those are the two worst flavors to me.  Grape is merely passable - and I would have to be jonesing for candy bad to eat it.  Back to the tale.]

So Heather calls with the flavors.  "Um, I think there is pineapple, apple, watermelon, and grape."  Immediately I call back to her, "Oh, so just sucky flavors."  Natalie is standing right by me and looks at me with her big bright eyes, "So can I have one of these sucky candy canes?"  I am stunned and now am trying to figure out how to fix this.  Before I can speak, she continues.  "Look, I can have this sucky pink one right here."  My brain is trying to get my mouth to get to work, "FIX THIS! FIX THIS!"  I stutter, "Uh, Daddy shouldn't have said that, Nat.  Don't use that word."  She has unwrapped the candy cane and has it in her mouth.

"Look, Dad, I'm sucking on it.  It IS a sucky candy cane.  I love sucky candy canes."  And she skips out of the room.  I just stare at the floor and wait for the door to get busted down by the Southern Baptist Convention.  At least Gabe can't understand me yet - the other two are doomed.  

[That last comment was a joke.  Gabe is doomed too.  He just doesn't know it yet.]

In The Words of Kids: SMART MOUTH

First of all, so much for my praises of Kevin Smith - UCF's record-setting rusher.  Like I said, he would probably have lost about $25 million staying in school.  However, the thing that really bothered me was the attitude portrayed in Smith's original announcement to stay and his announcement to leave.  At first, he was talking about loyalty and teammates and graduating and how money wasn't the most important thing.  The second speech was all "doing what's best for me" and "no one knows what's best for me" and stuff like that.  Makes me wonder who got to him - which agent or whatever.  

Second of all, I had a new album that I should have added to the 2007 BEST OF MUSIC post - but I didn't hear it until 2008.  Kevin Max's The Blood is absolutely incredible.  I always considered K-Max to be the most annoying and least talented member of dcTalk.  I think I may have underestimated him.  The album shows a huge understanding of and appreciation for the roots of Gospel music, as well as the power of Christ's Blood.  Good album.  Get it.

Now to the main event...

All my life I hear parents say things to kids.  Adult-type things - you know, these higher function comments that kids won't be able to understand because they haven't lived long enough to reach the point of enlightenment.  Dip into the Dad Bag and throw out "This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you."  "It builds character."  "Because I said so."  All of those cliched parent comments - that I find myself saying now.  I swore I never would, but I do.  Why?  Probably because my kids are smarter than me.  They ask me why they have to do something, and I really don't have a good reason every time.  So I resort to those things.

The other day, I was arguing with Josiah - our six year old.  Lately, he has developed this knack for doing ornate events to celebrate random things.  Last Friday, it was "Gabey Day" - I guess in celebration of Gabe, our three month old.  Well, it was cute, and we all liked it.  So he then translates that to mean, "Please do this every single day without end."  So he plans to do Gabey Day - with a parade and refreshments and everything.  Well, this is not going to work every day, so we tell him that it can't happen.  And he flips out - another thing he has a knack for.  "I'm just going to destroy all the Gabey Day signs, then."  And he goes to tear this stuff he made up.  Ri-diculous.  Well, he's moping around, standing with his arms crossed.  

Finally, I dip into the Dad Bag for a comment and say, "Listen, if you are going to be mopey, go be mopey in your room.  You aren't hurting anyone but yourself."  He looks at me, with a scowl on his face, and retorts, "Well, it isn't hurting ME either."  And he walks away.  Victory Josiah.  Truth of the matter is, it wasn't hurting him.  So there went another Dad Bag Comment out the window.