Antonio's 4th Birthday

On this day 4 years ago Misty and I received a gift that defies words. Antonio, our first child was born and our life has never been the same since. Sure my dreams of playing golf professionally have been dashed (now I just settle for playing once a month if I'm lucky). Sure Misty graduated at the top of her class in International Business and never got to work anywhere but the DFW area. Not that I would trade the way my life is now for anything.

Many things in life don't turn out the way you expect when you are young. This is probably a good thing. Misty and I agreed that we could not plan to have children. We felt it was something that was beyond our control and we would just go with the flow.  Sure enough two weeks shy of our first anniversary we already had #1. By the time our second anniversary rolled around we already knew we were expecting #2. Now we sit on the precipice of our 5th anniversary already with two preschoolers and another little boy on the way.

Birthdays are a time for reflection. Our children will understand this as they get older, parents are acutely aware of this. The reflection I see in the mirror is a somewhat older, wiser, heavier, balder version of my pre-paternal self. I can't really tell if my children are the cause of my hair loss but I wouldn't be surprised if it were true.

As I look back to 5 years ago I see a couple of twenty-somethings getting ready to take the plunge.  Frenetically checking and re-checking all wedding plans: catering, groomsmen, brides maids, time, place, etc. There is nothing like planning your own wedding. Somehow 5 years has whizzed by between then and now. Along with it went our sense of perfection.

We began planning our October wedding in January. Ten months for one day. Since then we have had to adjust what we are able to live with in terms of perfection: honestly we are lucky if we have 10 minutes these days. We understand that children have no concept of timeliness or cleanliness. We have resigned ourselves to the fact that if we hit the agreed upon target + 30 minutes we are having a good day. If the children only cycle through their wardrobe in three days...not so bad. If only a little of the chocolate cupcake lands on the floor, grabbing the mop would be tantamount to sitting on a whoopee cushion (guaranteed to elicit laughter).

I sometimes wonder what we did with our extra time before we had kids? I struggle to recall anything of consequence. Yes, we took vacations not involving a minivan. Yes, we ate out a bunch and had a night life that didn't include baby monitors, midnight feeding sessions and tiptoeing through our own house. Yes, we were able to do anything we wanted. Do I miss it...I would be lying if I didn't say no. But I don't miss it for very long. When I see my boys I know that I was put here on this earth to raise men, not an easy task. I try to set a good example for them to follow every day. It is sometimes difficult and it must be repeated daily.

I, like all parents want the best for my children and I have come to terms with the sacrifices that I must make to ensure that our children grow up into well-adjusted adults.  The daily grind no longer ends at the watering hole. Extravagant meals have given way to Mac N Cheese and hot dogs. Things that used to be priorities are no longer even a faint notion. It is all part of what we parents must to to provide for our children. If there is anything I have learned in the last 4 years it is this: anyone can do something difficult for one day, doing it every day is what makes you a parent.

Happy Birthday Antonio.

Love,

Dad

Games Children Play

Wherever two or more siblings are gathered I am there. No I'm not talking about Jesus here; I'm talking about the world's worst game: Keep Away. You know the one where the older sibling has something that the younger one wants and then runs around avoiding the younger one as he screams and cries. It could be a toy or an insignificant piece of paper but it always seems that no matter what it is you can bet that it will enervate parents and that said item will be destroyed in the process. Keep Away is probably my least favorite game that children play followed closely by, Jump On Daddy When He Isn't Expecting It, Look What I Found, and Ride the Kitty. 

Competition is the driving force behind Keep Away. Some call it sibling rivalry, but it is essentially one sibling competing for attention, bragging rights etc. over the other(s). I think it is woven into the fabric of our being. Especially if you have an ultra-competitive streak in you. Fathers definitely pass it on to their sons, so I admit that I am just as guilty of Keep Away as my children. I have no idea how to break the cycle, but I do know how to treat the symptoms. I normally take said item and hide, trash, break, shred or incinerate it. Sometimes it brings me great joy, especially if it is a noisemaking toy (see first blog for reference).

I'm sure I played "Keep Away" with my younger brother when we were growing up, although I can't remember it. You probably did too. Why is it that older siblings feel the need to taunt and tease younger ones? Why is it that the younger ones always want whatever the older ones have? Is nah nah nah nah boo boo an instinctual taunt inherent in older siblings or is it learned from others? These are the questions that keep me up at night? Well not really.

In our family Keep Away usually ends when Angelo hurts Antonio (whether by punch, kick, trip, or by beating him with a stick). Then Antonio begins crying and Angelo tries to act innocently. It is an almost daily occurrence here. I'm unsure whether Angelo will take the same course of action against the new baby when he arrives. Will he have learned his lesson and therefore be more forgiving towards his younger sibling? Shaking my Magic 8 Ball - my sources say no. I have a gut feeling that Angelo will continue the tradition of playing Keep Away: a sort of passing the torch if you will. If in the future Keep Away becomes an Olympic sport I am definitely signing my kids up. I have gold medalists in training.

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in their little heads

Saturday Antonio flat out refused to participate in soccer practice. He told me that he was no longer interested in playing soccer and that he wanted to play baseball. Normally this would be music to my ears if I hadn't already prepaid for the soccer practice at the YMCA. Since we are past the half-way point in the "season" there is no way I'm going to get a refund so I made Antonio sit through the remainder of the practice. He clapped whenever anyone scored a goal...even the other team. He appeared to be very apathetic and just wanted to be anywhere else.

We went home and his attitude went from bad to worse when he began acting up and generally being a pest. He started by deliberately making a mess upstairs and time out just wasn't cutting it. It culminated when he put his hands on my throat in choking fashion and told me that he was not going to go clean upstairs and that I was no longer allowed to talk to him. I did my best to keep from laughing and then when I realized that he was serious I explained to him that what he was doing was unacceptable and that he would now be taking a nap. A cacophony of cries emanated from his room for the next hour or so until he realized that we weren't coming up to get him.

And then later when Misty and I didn't think we could take any more he was much better behaved and he told Misty and I how much he loved us; it was almost as if he knew that we had reached our breaking point. He ate his dinner without complaining and even asked for seconds. He helped out around the house and he helped pick up toys before bed time. He totally redeemed himself. It is one of those things where if you weren't a parent you might have lost your cool, but knowing that they can be so wonderful most of the time you let it slide.

Sunday after mass we went to see where his Sunday school class would be next week and as we were walking through the Education Center Antonio saw Jesus on the Cross. He asked "why Jesus was on the Cross" and "who put him there?" It is amazing that the same child that can get under your skin one moment is the same child that amazes you with poignant questions the next. Misty and I felt very proud at that moment as we realized that our children are such a blessing and that the fleeting moments of silliness and disobedience are outweighed by the intelligence and compassion they exhibit the rest of the time.

Houston: We Have a Malicious Pee-er

A first tonight at the Gallizzi household. Malicious Peeing:

Stage: We had friends in from New Orleans this past weekend and we had a great time while they were here with their two boys. They slept in Antonio's bed and Antonio and Angelo "camped out" on the floor of Angelo's room on top of a sleeping bag that I'm certain hadn't been used since the Clinton administration (this is probably as close as my children will ever get to "roughing it.")  This morning Antonio helped strip the bed and wash the sheets and comforter. After school he helped Misty put them back on the bed.

The Act: Antonio came downstairs naked and said that someone had peed on his bed. I dashed upstairs to find that he was correct. Through my astute powers of deduction I surmised that it had to be my oldest son since the other one was downstairs and fully clothed. Antonio let loose on his own bed soaking about a 2 1/2 foot long 4 inch wide strip from the middle of his bed to the floor. I called Misty upstairs and she had a hard time initially containing her laughter and then her crying. Perhaps Antonio felt that his personal space had been violated and in animal like fashion decided to mark his territory.

His Response: "I didn't do it, it was Angelo."  

My Response: I calmly reminded him that liars are punished worse once they are found out. He quickly reversed course, admitted to it and avoided a spanking. (During the Olympics we recounted the story of Marion Jones to Antonio so he knows full well what happens to people when they do something wrong and then lie about it. I don't think he will ever forget this lesson.)

The Punishment: He was made to strip the bed of the pee-soaked comforter and sheets, walk them downstairs, put them into the washing machine, start a load of laundry, and then put new sheets on the bed. After which he went immediately to bed. The worst part was we let Angelo stay up late, which might be the thing that pissed him off (pun intended) worse than anything.

The Ultimatum: We let Antonio know in no uncertain terms that if it ever happened again that we would throw away his cowboy boots, hat and really anything else we can get our hands on.

All in all I think Misty and I held our composure fairly well. Honestly, this is something we were unprepared for but as parents when you stop experiencing new things you are either tending an empty nest or singing in the choir of angels.