Yelling at the kids...My first Dad moment...

I was downstairs running and for a change, Izzy was not downstairs with me. I have known Isobel her entire life, I held her before anyone else save the doctors and nurses who pulled her out. She has seen me shirtless any number of times. When she was an infant and I was the only person she would nap with, I would occasionally be shirtless when we napped...
Isobel: "Daddy?"
Daddy: "Yes Plum Blossom?"
Isobel: "Were you just running?"
Daddy: "Yes ."
Isobel: "On the treadmill?"
Daddy: "..."
Isobel: "Daddy?"
Daddy: "Yes, my daughter?"
Isobel: "On the treadmill? Were you running on the treadmill?"
Daddy: "Yes Isobel. What's this all about? You know I run on the treadmill all the time. Why all the questions now?"
Isobel: "Daddy?"
Daddy: "Yes, Izzy?"
Isobel: "Daddy, you have a hell of a lot of tattoos."



The hardest part of being a parent is forgetting what it's like to be a kid...
I may rant a bit here so bear with me.
The Boy has ADHD. it's not something we have ever gone to any lengths to conceal nor is it something we have ever worn on our sleeves. It is what it is and it plays a role in who he is. It does not however, define him. He has his moments but what ten year old boy doesn't? It seems like we are constantly having to defend his behaviour because he has those four letters associated with him now.
I like many, had misconceptions about what the condition entails and I can say that there is definitely a difference between when he is on his meds and not, but (and this is an important but) it does not turn him into a complacent perfect angel of a boy. Good god if that were the case there would be a line of parents around the block of every drugstore in the world to lay hands on this miracle drug...my parents would have bought shares in the company based on the three of us kids alone...The difference is that when he is off his meds, he is a ten year old boy-amplified. When he is on them he is able to make sense of the tornado of information whipping around his head. It helps him put things into order and perspective. But on or of the meds, he is The Boy. He is bright and funny and charming and a pain in the ass and a joy to be around and a stubborn mule of a just like his mother and everything else that any other ten year old kid is. And like all ten year old kids, he will try your patience-that's their job.
We lost a sitter today, which in and of itself is not a big deal but it is the way she went out. It was not particularly classy... it was downright low rent. Without going into too many sordid details, we were informed that she was no longer going to watch The Boy but that Isobel was quite welcome to come over. I can't help but feel that her decision is based wholly on in part on those four letters. I am flattered that Isobel has made such an impression as to be quite welcome but she is a package deal. Izzy herself told me she wasn't ' going anywhere without The Boy.'
Some accusations were made where I had to bite my tongue as the incidents were recounted to me by the baby sitter. The Boy is no angel but the things that he was accused of were so completely out of character for him that I have to call bullshit on all of it. I have know him for half of his life and he is a lot of things but The Boy is not a violent or vindictive kid. Not by any stretch. Nor is he any more aggressive than any other ten year old boy involved in a contact activity.
I get it, he can be a handful and he can try your patience. And you can lose your patience and say and do things you regret...I know. There are a couple of major differences however. By virtue of testosterone and a thickening of my vocal chords my voice tends to have a timbre that inspires discomfort in the children when the volume and emotion levels tend to rise. (did you get that? When I yell ,the kids tend to get a little panicky) However, I make it a point to apologize to the children when I cool down. Always. it is important for them to know that it is just frustration making me yell and not genuine anger. Secondly (and I think both of the kids have caught on to this) thanks to a Sterling upbringing and life long influence of virtually every female in my experience including Mrs. Narrator I am now possessed with a sense of guilt as wide as the mighty Mississippi and if I have shouted at the children, there is generally shopping or general spending of money on the way. My point is I have yelled and made the kids feel bad and felt bad about it myself. They're my kids. It doesn't make it right but I am a father, their father...both of them.
You can't tell me that The Boy is the bad seed and then of good conscience say that Isobel is welcome over anytime she likes. How dare you? Who do you think you are? You can't tell me that you have experience with kids with ADHD and then fold when you are put to the test.
It just seems a little odd to me that since The Boy had been going to our old sitter who recently retired (sort of) since he was four or five and not a single report of this kind of behaviour ever greeted me or Mrs. Narrator when we went to get him. But he goes to this present sitter from the beginning of the school year until now and he turns into Fred Krueger, laughing and hacking his playmates while playing capture the flag? Come on lady. It doesn't take a rocket surgeon to smell the crap piling up. It also strikes me as odd that these incidents all seemed to occur around her own two children...if you don't like my kid, come out and say it but don't play the sensitive care-giver card with years of experience and then treat him like a pariah...
There is an old expression that goes if you screw with one of us, you screw with all of us. We lost a sitter today but it's not so bad, Mrs. Narrator is going to stay home and watch the kids. Though its going to prove difficult for her to supervise the children while she is locked in the bedroom. She is not nearly as calm about this as I am and god help us all if she stews about this over the next couple of days and decides to give out a few pieces of her mind...we'll need more than a new sitter.



We were at the mall a while ago, in the record store. I like to take my kids to the record store (Haven't ventured into a real one yet I'll get them warmed up in the minors before taking them major league) and show them all the joys that music can bring. The Boy usually peruses the kick knacks and video games but Izzy will generally follow me and look at the cd's on display around her.
At one point she let out an audible gasp and pulled me toward a cd. "Cool," I said. "An all girl metal band." I briefly glanced at the cover and saw four cute girls in goth type make up but the studs and spike told me that this was not a forlorn band.
"Can I get the cd?" she asked.
"Let's go home and see if we can find them on the computer and if you like them we will come back and buy your very first cd."
It was a proud moment for me, buying my little girl a cd that was not Barney or Bieber. And she's only five!
We got home and I dutifully looked up the band on YouTube. They were even cuter in the video. Not my cup of tea but still not I love you, you love me or Baby oh Baby.
Something struck me as a little odd though. The singer's voice seemed a little deep. I looked them up on Wikipedia...they are called The Black Veil Brides. They are Izzy's new favourite band. They are all boys. They are a metal boy band from somewhere in California. I am no longer cool, I have become my father staring at a poster in my basement room wondering who Ned was and why anyone would want to Damn him...