I have been thinking of how I want to go about this, and I have decided that I should just start to blog about it. That was the main reason I put a blog page on my website (my kids). There are just too many great things that happen with my kids and I to not share with more then the people on my Facebook page. I know other people out in the world can totally connect with some of what happens to me and my kids. I’m in the crazy position of life being a Domestic Engineer that just takes me on all kinds of wild journeys. Some days nothing happens, and then a day like yesterday comes along, and its like a brick to the face. Not that its hard, it’s just confusing. Parenting is not different from any other job in the world. You have your good days and you have your bad days. I swear all logic, and common sense goes out the window with my kids and I. My wife always tells me this, “Do you know the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result”. Last night I tried something different. It wasn’t the most conventional way to go about it, but I got a different result.
For people who do not know I have 3 kids; Ryan (12), Shane (9), and Cody (7). They are great kids. Of course they are… like any parent would say anything bad about their kids. I would, I have, and have no issue at all saying it too. My kids are far from perfect, which makes them perfect to me. All 3 of my kids are different and have their own little personalities that make them who they are. That’s a blog for another day. Last night we had a little issue at the house where I pretty much lost part of my mind. Between boxing and my kids, I don’t have much left. I took my wife’s advice and tried something NEW. It probably wasn’t the most conventional way, and I am not even sure I am proud to say I did it, but enough was enough, and I got a different result.
Last night I was walking upstairs, and I noticed a thumbtack in the wall. It was just stuck in the wall, like it belongs there. I know what your saying to yourself, “What’s the big deal? It’s a small hole in the wall that no one will notice.” I totally agree, except we just had our entire house repainted and spent an arm and leg having it done. Have some respect for your house, and where you live. Doesn’t matter if it didn’t cost an arm and a leg to have done. We don’t treat our home that way. They aren’t 1, 2, and 4 anymore. They are all old enough now to understand you don’t color on walls, tables, doors, or stick tacks in walls. I am making a hit list of stuff to do back to them when they get older and move out. I’ll not lying, Mary and I are taking notes. I can’t wait until they take me out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. I am going to take my arm, put it on the table, and clear it in one swoop. Then I am going to look at them like they’ve looked at me. You mean that’s not how you act in public? No, you are not suppose to act like little assholes in public because its embarrassing. I never say to them, “I hope your kids pay you back for what you did to me.” I want to pay them back personally. I’m going to take pride in it too. Cody told me when he gets older he is moving to Marco Island, Florida so I can’t visit him. You can run, but you can’t hide, buddy.
I am on the stairs, looking at this tack in the wall, and I call all 3 kids over to me. My kids like to play this game called “wasn’t me”. Well guess what, it sure the hell wasn’t me either. My wife has had the wonderful experience of playing this game with my kids too. I was cracking up watching her try to get an answer out of them one day. I swear I thought she was going to pull her hair out. It’s the most frustrating game on the planet. Here is our thing, just tell us the truth, and let’s move on. But, when all 3 of you look at me and say “wasn’t me,” I have an issue with that. There is no place for lying. It is just a waste of time. Tell the truth, and let’s get it over with. So, we are all on the stairs, looking at this tack in the wall, like a shooting star, and I ask “who did this”? Like magic all 3 of them say “wasn’t me.” It’s hard to keep a straight face when they say it, and the worse thing you can do is crack a smile. I barely held it together, and said to them, “Everyone in my room. I’m getting a belt and we are getting some answers.” Not that I would ever hit them with it, but I was done. I’m yelling at them “just tell me the truth.” There might have been a cuss word or two also. I didn’t care that there is a tack in the wall I just wanted the truth. They are all looking at me like they are lost in headlights. They have no idea how this tack got there. I started to think the painters put it there knowing damn well they didn’t. My kids almost played the Jedi mind trick on me. I walk upstairs to my bedroom, went in my closet and grabbed a belt. They slowly follow me up to my bedroom. I came out of the closet and Shaney is in tears. So I know my perfect child did not do it. Ryan who came straight from the devil himself was telling me why she could not have done it. I can’t believe I actually believed her for once. Then you have Cody, who just had this look on his face like s*&t is about to get real. I said every line up, and lets get this party started. Shane was having a nervous breakdown, Ryan thinks we are in a court room trying to tell me why it wasn’t her, and Cody spits out, “It was me!” I thought I was going to have to give Shane CPR. I was like, “ Breathe, baby, it’s over.”
I went off on Cody. Not for the tack, but for lying and disrespecting our home. We work really hard in life to provide for our kids. I don’t think it’s too much to ask in return. You have some damn respect for your own property. They aren’t babies anymore, and they know the difference between right and wrong. I tell my kids all the time, the fastest way to get to where you want to go in a situation like that is just tell the truth. If Cody would have just admitted it right off the bat, I would of probably would have cracked up. Great spot for a tack Cody. Instead I have to blow a gasket, and take a mental note to thumbtack Cody’s wall in his house. Then I’ll tell him, “Wasn’t me! Must have been mommy.”