Adventures Of Fatherhood

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Checking in on my kids before calling it a day is a nightly ritual for me.

In my opinion, a kid is never more beautiful than when he or she is asleep because that’s when they are completely at peace.

That’s why I think I love them the most when they are asleep in their beds for the night.

Of course, my tongue is firmly planted in my cheek here, but there’s much to admire when my boys are in a deep slumber, rather than wreaking havoc on the house and themselves.

What’s interesting of late during these nightly checks is how the kids have completely changed.

It used to be that Carson, 22 months old now, was an adorable sleeper. He was usually found asleep on his stomach or back and there was not too much to marvel over there, as he almost always still in the same position from when we said good night.

Beckett, 3, was a different story. For him, it was clearly just passing out, as he could be found with a foot, arm or his head dangling off his bed or sometimes just crash on the floor, for whatever reason.

It’s interesting to me that now the roles are completely reversed.

Beckett is now the one who is usually asleep where we left him, confirming he’s absolutely exhausted by the end of the day. He now sleeps with his head on the pillow and with a blanket over him. Before, neither of those items ever stayed in his bed with him. They were always found tossed aside.

With Carson, he now seems to be more of a restless sleeper, changing positions dozens of time throughout the night and was even found the other night sleeping upright with a book in his hand. I like to think he was sitting there playing (reading) and just gave in to his exhaustion.

It doesn’t much matter to me what state I find them in so long as they are asleep.
There’s something cathartic to me about kids sleeping.

After particularly challenging days, I find it therapeutic to observe my children asleep. They are so peaceful and assure me all is right in the world.

And in my tiny little piece of this world, all is right, at least at that particular time.

Magnet ball is what my son’s coaches call soccer games for 3- and 4-year-olds, and that’s an apt description.

Although his first official game is this weekend, Beckett and his teammates have been busy practicing a couple times a week.

On Monday, we got our first look at an actual game (more of a scrimmage really), and it was interesting to say the least. Previously, most work had centered on the fundamentals in practice, and surely the kids need much more of that.

During the scrimmage of sorts, like most parents, I was focused on watching my son in action, but couldn’t help but notice the moving pack of kids trying to kick the ball (hence, the magnet ball reference).

It wasn’t too difficult to observe my son, as he rarely moved an inch during the scrimmage. His coach put him in a spot and he didn’t leave it, even when the ball approached him.

This was interesting to me, as the kid rarely sits still at all and has a motor that usually will not quit.

However, put him on a soccer field and he’s like a statue.

Later on that night when we got home, I had to chase him around the house to get a bath, leading me to ask him, “where was all this energy on the soccer field?”

He simply said, “I was tired then.”
The sound of chairs crashing to the floor is heard all too often these days around my house.
The culprit, more often than not, is Carson, who seems to be fascinated by cause and effect.

He is obsessed with hearing a sound as a result of something he has done. His favorite move of late is toppling over any kind of chair in the house. He stands there pushes the chair over, waits for the sound and then proceeds to climb on it. He simply laughs in a disturbing fashion when he hears it crash to the floor.

This is a routine that plays out all too often around the house, and it can be quite nerve-wracking.

Carson will push over a chair, and Beckett will notice the fun he is having and quickly join in. The next thing we know there are no upright chairs in the house, and both kids are found straddling the chair legs.

The other day I found Carson sitting on top of a chair, drinking from his sippie cup. It was a weak moment and I decided to just let him do his thing, as he seemed safe and I didn’t feel like having yet another battle of wills over the chairs (I know, I know great parenting).

Nearby, Beckett seemed to be taking notes and surely had a chair in mind that he wanted to sit on. He didn’t have to look too far, as they were everywhere.

Before I could even take three steps away, I heard the familiar sound of a sippie cup hitting the hardwood floor. About 30 seconds later, Beckett had chugged the rest of his juice as well and tossed his aside.

It does seem they share a brain at times, and up to this point that’s not usually a good thing, particularly when they have the extra-man advantage.

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