"Bink...bink...BINK!!!"
Heaven help me, how I hate that word.
And other 'baby' words, for that matter. But back to the matter at hand.
My wife and I are working feverishly to wean our two-year-old daughter off of her PACIFIER.
Yeah, I know it's easier for baby to say one syllable as opposed to the four in 'pacifier', but if you're looking for 'easy', you're not going to find it as a parent.
Now that Savannah's last baby teeth are pretty much in, we're working to remove her dependency from her pacifier.
"I need a bink!"
We chose the passive-aggressive approach to getting her to change it up.
"Did you want your pacifier?"
"Pah-fier."
Close enough.
And just a couple weeks ago, we took this to the next level.
Now she gets her pacifier at bedtime only. And only if she specifically asks for it.
We've hidden our stock of pacifiers in a place where she can't find or get to it, as we've learned that her memory is pretty photographic when it comes to something she wants.
We had tried to start this process at 20 months, but since she still had teeth coming in, we decided to delay it a bit.
The teeth are still coming in, and she's resorted to chewing on other things, but the bottom line is, she's going to have to give it up, sooner or later.
The challenge is trying to convince her that she doesn't need it...at least not in the sense she thinks.
She's been pretty good with not needing a security blanket, but the pacifier habit isn't going to be easy to break.
Nonetheless, we're sticking by our plan.
And while the pacifiers are soon to gather dust, it didn't escape my attention just how many of these things a new parent can accumulate.
We have nine at last count. There were the ones she got as a newborn. Then as she graduated from infant to crawler, then toddler. Two with the Penn State logo were 'retired' as they became favorites (by her mom's design) and quickly wore out.
We had at least two for each car. One ever ready, and another usually lost under a seat. Then at least one in the diaper bag. Because you never knew when the moment was going to strike when it would disappear into oblivion forever, and woe to the one without a ready replacement.
Who knew that this simple piece of plastic and rubber would bring so much salvation to both parent and child?
Of course, it's replaced by a new form of plastic. Usually marked with one of two words..."Mastercard" or "Visa".
NEXT WEEK: Back to the Brat
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Nice Dinner? Leave the Littles at Home
Here in the Pittsburgh area, a local restauranteur made world headlines by banning children under the age of six from his establishment.
While one would think that this would prompt a hurricane of outrage in today's society, I was relieved to see that the reverse has happened.
His name is Mike Vuick, and he owns McDain's Restaurant and Golf Center on Broadway Boulevard in Monroeville, Pennsylvania.
Mike was interviewed by just about every major press outlet across the globe when he sent out an email to his patrons informing them that children under the age of six would no longer be welcome at his establishement.
The reaction has been overwhelmingly positive. And I'm glad to see someone finally take a stand on this.
When my wife gave birth to our daughter, most of my friends and acquaintances, knowing that I enjoy fine dining, advised me to start taking my child to sit-down restaurants at a young age to make sure they know how to properly behave in such venues.
I heeded this advice. And I can say that after two years, I can only count on one hand the number of times we've had 'meltdowns' in restaurants stemming from our daughter.
And we have always, without exception, taken her outside until she calmed down. This practice will continue by Margie and me.
We're considerate of others and their dining experience. I myself, before I had married, can remember having my meal ruined by a misbehaving child acting up and the parents sitting idly by and doing nothing to stop it.
It had gotten so bad at one point that I would ask a server to seat me and my date near other couples or those who had teenagers.
After witnessing such bad behavior, I vowed to myself that I would never allow my child to cause such a ruckus in public. And for the past two years, I've put my money where my mouth is.
It's sad that Mr. Vuick had to resort to such tactics. But those who object to it, need to review the restaurant's history.
McDain's never offered a 'kid's menu', nor family-friendly prices or anything that openly catered to families, aside from maybe high chairs until July 16th, when the ban went into effect. It was strictly an upscale restaurant.
And if I'm going to plunk down close to $100 for a meal, it better be a quiet and pleasant experience.
You want to bring your screaming brats with you into a restaurant and do nothing to control them, go to a buffet house or a fast food joint.
Because that's where you belong.
Otherwise, hire a babysitter for a few hours. Though I haven't needed one for some time, we do have one on standby.
For Mr. Vuick's part, he's enjoyed a surge in business since the news story broke. He claimed to a TV station here that he's gotten one complaint to every 11 compliments.
And that ain't bad. Good work, sir.
NEXT WEEK: Your little 'pacifist'
While one would think that this would prompt a hurricane of outrage in today's society, I was relieved to see that the reverse has happened.
His name is Mike Vuick, and he owns McDain's Restaurant and Golf Center on Broadway Boulevard in Monroeville, Pennsylvania.
Mike was interviewed by just about every major press outlet across the globe when he sent out an email to his patrons informing them that children under the age of six would no longer be welcome at his establishement.
The reaction has been overwhelmingly positive. And I'm glad to see someone finally take a stand on this.
When my wife gave birth to our daughter, most of my friends and acquaintances, knowing that I enjoy fine dining, advised me to start taking my child to sit-down restaurants at a young age to make sure they know how to properly behave in such venues.
I heeded this advice. And I can say that after two years, I can only count on one hand the number of times we've had 'meltdowns' in restaurants stemming from our daughter.
And we have always, without exception, taken her outside until she calmed down. This practice will continue by Margie and me.
We're considerate of others and their dining experience. I myself, before I had married, can remember having my meal ruined by a misbehaving child acting up and the parents sitting idly by and doing nothing to stop it.
It had gotten so bad at one point that I would ask a server to seat me and my date near other couples or those who had teenagers.
After witnessing such bad behavior, I vowed to myself that I would never allow my child to cause such a ruckus in public. And for the past two years, I've put my money where my mouth is.
It's sad that Mr. Vuick had to resort to such tactics. But those who object to it, need to review the restaurant's history.
McDain's never offered a 'kid's menu', nor family-friendly prices or anything that openly catered to families, aside from maybe high chairs until July 16th, when the ban went into effect. It was strictly an upscale restaurant.
And if I'm going to plunk down close to $100 for a meal, it better be a quiet and pleasant experience.
You want to bring your screaming brats with you into a restaurant and do nothing to control them, go to a buffet house or a fast food joint.
Because that's where you belong.
Otherwise, hire a babysitter for a few hours. Though I haven't needed one for some time, we do have one on standby.
For Mr. Vuick's part, he's enjoyed a surge in business since the news story broke. He claimed to a TV station here that he's gotten one complaint to every 11 compliments.
And that ain't bad. Good work, sir.
NEXT WEEK: Your little 'pacifist'
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Language Arts
That's what they called what I later came to learn was "English" class while attending a Catholic elementary school in the 1970s.
My two-year-old has made the transition from babbles, whines, and an occasional word into building near-complete sentences within a week's time.
My wife and I recently returned from a week-long vacation to northern Michigan, where we stayed in a cottage at a Houghton Lake resort and hosted my mother and my friend from another radio station many years ago (though not at the same time). As we pulled out of the driveway, that's when our child made the transition as described above.
OK, who are you and what have you done with our daughter?
I have always been a proponent of daycare centers. I believe that the best of them can best teach where a stay-at-home parent doesn't have the patience or know-how for.
My two-year daughter attends a Christian-centered day care center four days a week. The day care center is a non-profit enterprise operating as a separate arm of a Presbyterian church.
My wife and I are Christians, but not 'holy-rollers' my any means. However, we recognize the value in Christ-centered teachings. As an only child, we want Savannah to have the proper social interaction that she needs to function effectively in childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. Social interaction is just as necessary as academics to survive in today's world.
And as a country, we are falling way behind in academics. Especially where basic English skills are concerned.
As a broadcast journalist, I often pore through multiple media sources when writing my stories, to find the differing 'takes' other journalists have on a story and if it's slanted, to what angle is the slant.
While coming upon a story from the website a local TV station here in the Pittsburgh area, I noticed that the writer had written that the victim of a home invasion "was woken up by the noise".
"Woken" up.
While Dictionary.com, reports "woken" as a past participle of 'wake', it's still open to argument.
During the John Chancellor era, the victim "was awakened by the noise".
I rank woken with 'got'.
Don't even get me started with gross misspellings. A former colleague of mine, who was a feature reporter on the guilty TV station in question, occasionally featured misspellings she herself witnessed in very public places.
Restaurants. Car repair shops. Beauty salons. One would think that if you owned a business, you would have the sense to have the basic skills necessary to fill out a loan application.
Even those are 'dumbed down' for the masses these days.
This is why passive parents make me sick.
Spend some time with your kid. And I don't mean throwing about a ball or being their 'buddy'. Teach them some things. And encourage them to do better. And encourage is not a synonym for 'push'. There is a difference. It's your duty as a parent to learn it...and teach it.
Otherwise, we're one day going to raise a generation that eventually progresses to the level of its own incompetence.
If we aren't already there now.
NEXT WEEK: Restauranteur Relief
My two-year-old has made the transition from babbles, whines, and an occasional word into building near-complete sentences within a week's time.
My wife and I recently returned from a week-long vacation to northern Michigan, where we stayed in a cottage at a Houghton Lake resort and hosted my mother and my friend from another radio station many years ago (though not at the same time). As we pulled out of the driveway, that's when our child made the transition as described above.
OK, who are you and what have you done with our daughter?
I have always been a proponent of daycare centers. I believe that the best of them can best teach where a stay-at-home parent doesn't have the patience or know-how for.
My two-year daughter attends a Christian-centered day care center four days a week. The day care center is a non-profit enterprise operating as a separate arm of a Presbyterian church.
My wife and I are Christians, but not 'holy-rollers' my any means. However, we recognize the value in Christ-centered teachings. As an only child, we want Savannah to have the proper social interaction that she needs to function effectively in childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. Social interaction is just as necessary as academics to survive in today's world.
And as a country, we are falling way behind in academics. Especially where basic English skills are concerned.
As a broadcast journalist, I often pore through multiple media sources when writing my stories, to find the differing 'takes' other journalists have on a story and if it's slanted, to what angle is the slant.
While coming upon a story from the website a local TV station here in the Pittsburgh area, I noticed that the writer had written that the victim of a home invasion "was woken up by the noise".
"Woken" up.
While Dictionary.com, reports "woken" as a past participle of 'wake', it's still open to argument.
During the John Chancellor era, the victim "was awakened by the noise".
I rank woken with 'got'.
Don't even get me started with gross misspellings. A former colleague of mine, who was a feature reporter on the guilty TV station in question, occasionally featured misspellings she herself witnessed in very public places.
Restaurants. Car repair shops. Beauty salons. One would think that if you owned a business, you would have the sense to have the basic skills necessary to fill out a loan application.
Even those are 'dumbed down' for the masses these days.
This is why passive parents make me sick.
Spend some time with your kid. And I don't mean throwing about a ball or being their 'buddy'. Teach them some things. And encourage them to do better. And encourage is not a synonym for 'push'. There is a difference. It's your duty as a parent to learn it...and teach it.
Otherwise, we're one day going to raise a generation that eventually progresses to the level of its own incompetence.
If we aren't already there now.
NEXT WEEK: Restauranteur Relief
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Graduation Day
I know I have more than a decade and a half to worry about this, but it does get you thinking.
My wife Margie and I recently attended the high school graduation party for Tori. Margie had coached recreation league basketball for her church in 2005, the year we had met, and did so for a couple more years afterwards, then took some time out for when our daughter was born. Tori was one of the girls on the team that Margie coached, along with Tori's friend Laura.
Both girls were scholar-athletes, and like their teammates, found Margie highly relatable. Because Margie was young at heart and spoke likewise, she not only represented the values these kids were brought up with, she knew the game...lived and breathed it, along with just about any sport imaginable. She understood the pressures kids had growing up in today's world, and always maintained an 'open door' policy with her players. A policy where she spent more time listening than talking, and only offered advice when and if they asked for it. And it was always the truth and never what they wanted to hear, but always delivered in a positive manner.
Knowing as little as I did about sports, I was content to sit on the sidelines, but I made it a point to learn all the girls' names and cheer them on at every game. Tori, Laura, Chloe, Julia, and so many others.
OK, I didn't say that I wouldn't forget their names in my advancing years.
Even back then, Tori was a tall drink of water, and definitely not afraid of going after the ball. The girl got game.
Margie and I called Laura "Little Laura" because of her diminutive build that first year. Nonetheless, she didn't let her small stature get in the way of taking that ball to the hoop with extreme prejudice. But she soon experienced a sudden and rather quick growth spurt that made her not so little anymore and closer to the hoop.
We attended Tori's graduation party and after a couple hours, decided to yield to our daughter's impending fatigue and get her home to bathe her and put her to bed.
We hugged Tori and wished her the best of luck at the University of Pittsburgh in the coming fall. Laura's mom had arrived about an hour earlier, saying that Laura was curling her hair and would be coming later.
Laura arrived right as we were leaving. For the first time, I looked at both of them standing side-by-side.
It didn't seem that long ago that these gangly little girls were playing basketball on Margie's team, plus other sports in middle and high school. And as I looked at them, it made me think about what wonderful young ladies they grew up to be. Tori now standing almost six feet tall, and Laura not too far behind her, though my five-foot-three-inch wife debates that.
And then I looked down at my daughter.
The time went faster than I ever imagined.
"She's getting so big" is what I hear so often these days. And not only that, but I remember saying that very thing to Margie about those two girls once upon a time.
Cherish every moment. Even when you feel your patience at its end, remember that even the most difficult times won't last forever. And while you may not miss them, you will be able to reflect upon them and see the growth both of you have experienced since then.
NEXT WEEK: Language Arts
My wife Margie and I recently attended the high school graduation party for Tori. Margie had coached recreation league basketball for her church in 2005, the year we had met, and did so for a couple more years afterwards, then took some time out for when our daughter was born. Tori was one of the girls on the team that Margie coached, along with Tori's friend Laura.
Both girls were scholar-athletes, and like their teammates, found Margie highly relatable. Because Margie was young at heart and spoke likewise, she not only represented the values these kids were brought up with, she knew the game...lived and breathed it, along with just about any sport imaginable. She understood the pressures kids had growing up in today's world, and always maintained an 'open door' policy with her players. A policy where she spent more time listening than talking, and only offered advice when and if they asked for it. And it was always the truth and never what they wanted to hear, but always delivered in a positive manner.
Knowing as little as I did about sports, I was content to sit on the sidelines, but I made it a point to learn all the girls' names and cheer them on at every game. Tori, Laura, Chloe, Julia, and so many others.
OK, I didn't say that I wouldn't forget their names in my advancing years.
Even back then, Tori was a tall drink of water, and definitely not afraid of going after the ball. The girl got game.
Margie and I called Laura "Little Laura" because of her diminutive build that first year. Nonetheless, she didn't let her small stature get in the way of taking that ball to the hoop with extreme prejudice. But she soon experienced a sudden and rather quick growth spurt that made her not so little anymore and closer to the hoop.
We attended Tori's graduation party and after a couple hours, decided to yield to our daughter's impending fatigue and get her home to bathe her and put her to bed.
We hugged Tori and wished her the best of luck at the University of Pittsburgh in the coming fall. Laura's mom had arrived about an hour earlier, saying that Laura was curling her hair and would be coming later.
Laura arrived right as we were leaving. For the first time, I looked at both of them standing side-by-side.
It didn't seem that long ago that these gangly little girls were playing basketball on Margie's team, plus other sports in middle and high school. And as I looked at them, it made me think about what wonderful young ladies they grew up to be. Tori now standing almost six feet tall, and Laura not too far behind her, though my five-foot-three-inch wife debates that.
And then I looked down at my daughter.
The time went faster than I ever imagined.
"She's getting so big" is what I hear so often these days. And not only that, but I remember saying that very thing to Margie about those two girls once upon a time.
Cherish every moment. Even when you feel your patience at its end, remember that even the most difficult times won't last forever. And while you may not miss them, you will be able to reflect upon them and see the growth both of you have experienced since then.
NEXT WEEK: Language Arts
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