Friday, July 29, 2011

Do The Hustle

It goes without sayiing that our first year as a "single dad household" was incredibly stressful for everyone. Not having an actual income only compounded the problem. By August the person I was "renting" our house from had reached their breaking point. I hadn't been able to pay rent all year and they simply could not carry me any farther.

I was left with two options. Take my kids to a homeless shelter or move in with my mother.

I chose the homeless shelter.

I'm kidding. We moved into my mother's house over Labor Day Weekend. It was a lot of packing and unpacking. It was a lot of heavy lifting. It was difficult explaining to the kids why we had to move. It was crowded and a lot louder than our house. It was uncomfortable for everyone.

And it was humiliating.

I knew that once I made that move I could forget about finding a healthy woman to become my wife. I knew the chances of finding a healthy woman who wanted to marry a thirty-four year old man with three children who "lived with his mommy" were incalculably small. Since an unhealthy woman was not an option, any hope of a relationship was off the table for the foreseeable future. Folks might be willing to lend a hand to help but, a help mate would not be coming.

I told myself, "It's not forever, it's for now. You'll find a job, save up some cash, and get a place. You'll be back in your own house in a year or two."

I kept showing up at the straight commission jobs. I did odd drywall jobs that I picked up here and there. I even put together a deal with a business man that I knew would make us both a lot of money. I also knew that the company he represented would not live up to their contracts with the clients I'd be helping this guy find. So, I killed the deal.

I did a little personal coaching for a couple of small business owners I knew. It worked. Their businesses grew immediately. And collapsed just as fast when they stopped doing what I'd taught them.

I borrowed $1600 from another business man I knew to get started with a multi-level company. The problem with that was, to succeed in that kind of business you have to be a really good salesperson and a disciplined leader. I was neither. The business man ended up forgiving the debt.

Just as I was about to give up all hope a placement service called me. They found a position for me with a large corporation with a prestigious name. It didn't pay very much but it was steady money every week. I jumped at it. When I told my mother she was ecstatic.  When I told my kids they were excited. After thirteen incredibly long months things were looking up.

Abraham Lincoln once said, "Good things may come to those who wait but, only what is left by those who hustle."

I found I wasn't very good at the hustle.

About fifteen years ago there was a song that said, "Sometimes He calms the storm and other times He calms His child."

Sometimes, the only way through a storm is to hang on and let it blow itself out.

That's my view from here.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Recovery

Having kids is a tremendous aid in the recovery of a control freak. That or a fast track to a nervous breakdown.

One thing that I noticed pretty quickly was that, as long as I was there and interacting with the kids, we all lived a fairly peaceful existence. But, if I had to spend more than two or three minutes out of contact all hell broke loose.  Every time.

I started out explaining, "When I have to go the bathroom that is not time for you guys to go crazy." "When I have to cut the grass that is not time for you guys to fight." When I have to..." You get the picture.

I found myself asking, "How can I fix this?" "How can I put a stop to this?" A number of potential solutions crossed my mind. There is the way society does it. "If you don't follow the rules you get fined, go to jail or, in extreme cases, get executed."

There is the way the church used to do it. "We may not be able to see you all the time but, God does.  God is always watching. And if you step out of line He'll getcha!" This works until they start testing boundaries and find out that God isn't sitting there with a sledge hammer waiting for you to step outside the fences so He can crush you. They figure out quickly that that is not God's character.

As I thought about it, there is some truth to both of these approaches. Life does have consequences for bad behavior. and there are spiritual consequences (some eternally serious) for sin. Where these approaches fall short is twofold:

1. Both of these solutions use fear as their motivating force.

2. Coercing the correct behavior from someone does nothing to change their inner motivation.

About this time I came across a quote. I think it was C.S. Lewis but, I am not sure. Here's the quote:

"Rome tried to change the world by changing men's laws. Christ tried to change the world by changing men's hearts."

I realized I was dealing with a 'super natural' problem but, I'd been using 'natural' solutions. Unless my children's hearts were inclined toward peace with one another only my restraining presence or punishments would maintain the peace I so desperately wanted in my home.

How exactly had Jesus dealt with this problem? His was a two step process.

1. For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son...(Jesus was a living demonstration of the Father's love)

2. Jesus said, "If you love Me you'll do what I say. And doing what I say won't be forced." (Jesus explained to those closest to Him how to show their love for Him)

I didn't really know how to go about this other than to copy Jesus. So, I just started telling them, "I go to work everyday to provide for you because I love. I make your meals, do your laundry....because I love you. Do you love me?"  "Yes." "If you love me you'll love and respect each other and follow the rules."

Then I would pray.

My kids are by no means the model Christian children you would expect to see in a magazine or "Christian" television show. We have real issues that need real solutions. Our lives are not cake walks.

I won't bore you with a list of my kids' virtues. I can tell you that, so far, my kids have made choices that are infinitely better than the choices I made at their respective ages.

These are regular kids whose lives are far better than their father's life was as a kid. And that has happened, in part, because God gave me the grace to see that I could not control their lives for them. But, I could help them learn to live healthy lives themselves.

What they do with what I teach them is completely up to them.


That's my view from here.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Control Freak

"My name is Dean and I'm a control freak." That's how the meetings of Control Freaks Anonymous would begin. There are no CFA meetings, of course, because none of the members would be allowed to run the meetings, so none of us would show up!

I am a recovering control freak. For some deeply insane reason I think I should be in charge of everything. That would be very bad for everyone in the universe.

For numerous reasons it took my ex and I almost two years to divorce. As part of the process, the state of Texas insisted that we each attend a "divorce class". It even came with a text book.

When I heard that I had to go to a class on how to get divorced properly, I was - ironically amused. I didn't have to attend a class to get married. (I understand that many pastors require this before agreeing to officiate the wedding now. For the record, this is a great idea.) On my way to the class I was thinking, "we are in the middle of divorce. We are all so cynical at this point that I don't think any of us will be listening."

There must have been one hundred fifty people in that room. I was stunned. They had this class at least every month. I think it was even more often. Was the room this full every time? I remembered the schedule was consistent. It was always in the same room - on this side of town. There were other locations in town. Then I thought, "Dear God help us."

How could there possibly be this many divorces every month and yet we don't have complete chaos in our society? Did all of these people have kids? How many shattered lives were represented in that room that Saturday morning?

The class began. After a few minutes of obligatory introductions and paperwork the instructor began. I only remember two of the things she said. The first applied to me the most.

"One of the reasons you are getting divorced is because you couldn't get your spouse to do what you wanted. Now that you are divorced, don't kid yourself, you won't be able to control them now, either.

I knew that was what I had been sent there to hear. I even wrote it down.

That class lasted at least two hours. It was full of really good nuts and bolts "how to's" of living as a divorced person. Apparently we've practiced it so much here in America that we have it down to a science. What does that say about us as a culture? (See? I'm recovery, not recovered. But, I digress.

I didn't get this lesson perfect from the day I attended this class. And I still haven't. It actually took several years before I stopped thinking I could "get" my ex to see and do things my way. But, I did get there.

Eventually I realized that I'd been holding myself captive by fooling myself in this area. I put myself on an emotional roller coaster by trying to control the actions of another person. It did not matter if my reasons were "it's what's best for the kids." My approach was wrong. And it caused all kinds of unnecessary stress for her, the kids and me.

I am learning that there is a God - and I ain't Him. I am not in control and my life and my kids' lives are much better for it.

That's my view from here.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Unanswered Prayer

I've written before about my youngest son being the closest thing to Ricochet Rabbit I've ever seen. Twenty to thirty minutes after he wakes up he's bouncing off the walls looking for new ways to enjoy life. He's not destructive by nature. He is a really sweet kid who longs to please his parents and is devastated when he disappoints one of us. That said, things tended to get broken just by being in his general area.

When he was four we tried T-ball. It was an unmitigated disaster. He'd been to all the practices. We'd practiced some at home. But, when game day arrived he had no idea what he was supposed to do. The game moved so slowly that it was impossible to keep his attention. When the ball did finally get to him he had no idea what to do with it. By the end of the second game he was done and I was relieved.

Something strange happened after that second game. A woman approached me and said, "one of my boys has ADHD. He was the same way. Get him to a doctor and get him on some drugs. All your lives will be better for it." That was the craziest thing I'd ever heard! Purposely put my little boy on drugs? I thought, "she must be on drugs herself!"

Six months later he started Kinder Garden. Within two weeks the teachers were all extremely frustrated. They were practically screaming at me, "Get him on drugs or get him out of our school!"

I told them, "none of you are doctors and I refuse to accept your diagnosis." We went to our pediatrician and he said almost the exact same thing as me. He gave me a survey for each of my son's teachers to fill out. It came back almost unanimously bad.

At the same time, I went and spoke to the children's church director and asked her about him. She said, "Dean, he just seems so frustrated. He wants so badly to be good."

I called a friend of mine who is a teacher. He asked, "what did the survey say?" When I told him he replied, "Dean, I've been a teacher for a decade. I've worked with other teachers all of those years. You can't get us to agree on anything. If they are all saying there's a problem, than there's a real problem."

I'd been fasting and praying for a different solution but, none came. I relented and got the prescription. I felt like a complete failure as a parent. How could I let my little boy be condemned to having to take drugs just to be able to go to school?

When I took the prescription into the school nurse she could tell I was not happy. She started asking me about it and we quickly got to, "I don't want my kid on drugs." Her reply was just as simple. "More than seventy percent of these kids who don't get medication end up self-medicating."

I blurted out, "That's what I did! I don't want that!" My reply made her very uncomfortable. But, what she'd said set me free. I don't want my son going down that destructive path. Because I was forced to deal with this issue very early on, I may have been pre-empting something much worse in the future.

Now I see things much differently. My son's daily medication isn't any different than asthma meds. It's just a different malady that he's being treated for. I thought I'd been "defeated" as a parent. What really happened is my son was surrounded by people who had no personal interest but, wanted to give him a lifelong victory anyway.

Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers.

That's my view from here.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

A Chance To Sing

One of the best decisions I made early on was Friday Night Family Night. We would eat dinner, play games, tell stories, watch movies, and eat popcorn. It was inexpensive so, it was easy to do every week. It was also a blast! We had so much fun on those nights.

Now that the two older kids are teens and the youngest thinks he is, we really don't get to do this kind of family night more than once or twice a year but, we have great memories.

In a family full of musicians we naturally were going gravitate to musicals. It's a good thing that so many family films are musicals. If you cold have secretly entered our house at any moment in that first year, there was a good chance you would have caught us singing a tune from the Lion King, Aladdin, The Aristocats, or any number of animated musical films.

I know these family nights were contributing factors to all three of my kids being in school choirs. The two older ones are both involved in musical theater. All of these activities my kids are involved in are tremendous sources of joy for us. It never occurred to me that my kids would be so influenced by these nights. I was just looking for something we could all do together consistently.

I find myself smiling just writing about it!

One funny pattern that emerged during this time was my kids' affinity for two particular movies: The Sound of Music and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

For months it seemed that every week they wanted to watch one of these two movies. They are both great movies that I grew up with. I understand why my kids loved to watch them over and over again. I was rarely able to tell them no.

I didn't know how to explain to them, in a way they would understand, that both of these films were about single dads who were struggling with the role. Both meet beautiful women with even more beautiful singing voices. These women are happy to jump in and be a mother to the children and wife and lover to the dad. They go off to live and make music together happily ever after. They get to live my dream!

Seeing each movie once or twice was inspiring. There's hope for me! But, seeing them over and over again while dealing with all the emotional upheaval of the divorce process could get a little tough. But, my kids were enjoying themselves so much that I would usually put one of these movies on, wait for them to settle in and then sneek off and start to clean up. So, I was there but, not having to pay too much attention to the movie.

All in all it was a tiny sacrifice for a lifetime of great memories, relationships and influence with my kids. It is not uncommon for my oldest son, who is approaching twenty, to say, "Dad, I found a show that the two of us would probably enjoy watching together."

When one of the kids is in a show the rest of us enjoy showing up as a family to support and be entertained. It's not a chore for the kids. It's a pleasure.

All of these wonderful gifts in our lives have grown out of me stumbling onto a way for all of us to have fun together. I am always amazed at how good life can be when we get it right. Even if we get it right by chance.

That's my view from here.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Be Prepared

One of the issues I had to confront very quickly was how completely unprepared I was for the task I had chosen.

As I've said before, I did not have a father and my mother had to work all the time. As a consequence I didn't really have a parenting reference point to start from. Not even a bad one.

As a boy I played sports. The coaches made it clear - "get the job done or get cut." When I went into the Air Force they modified it. "Get the job done." When I became a civilian again employers changed it again, "Get the job done or you're fired."

As a dad, I knew I had to get the job done - period. The problem was, I wasn't even sure what the job was, let alone how to do it. But, I jumped right in any way!

In those first few months, several times I would notice my oldest son looking at me with a very puzzled look on his face. He insists he doesn't remember but, I was sure he was thinking, "have you had any training for this?"

I had to learn that usually when a young child is frustrated and begins whining about a task they've been assigned; "I don't care how you feel. Just get it done.", is not the correct response. I honestly did not know that these were teaching moments and these times were opportunities to build relationship with my kids.

I learned this principle soon enough but, I still had no clue as to what the "finished product" was supposed to look like. I spent lots of early mornings trying to figure it out and get the answer in prayer. I spent lots late nights reading books and magazine articles written by experts. I would search the scriptures and was very surprised to find how few "how to's" were in there. This was a little disappointing but, I was soon able to work it out.

Finally, I just sat down one day and worked it out as simply as I knew how.

My priorities were:

1. I wanted my children to grow up to share my faith.
2. I wanted my children to grow up to be decent human beings who were happy and healthy adults.
3. I wanted my children to grow up to be quality spouses and parents.

It is easy to fall into the delusion that accomplishing the first goal will automatically cause the next two to just happen. But, I had seen too many people who had raised their kids in the faith and, as adults, their kids had rejected the faith because their parents' emotional, social, or financial lives were a mess. The kid figured, "if mom and dad's faith doesn't work at home, why would I think it works anywhere else?"

My kids had already seen that dad's faith couldn't keep mom and dad together. That was a very big strike against me. At 34, I knew myself fairly well and I knew I would make plenty more mistakes. I was going to have to fix me if I wanted any chance to see my desires for my children fulfilled.  

I found a counselor I trusted and started going regularly. I won't bore you with the long list of things I've worked on. As with everything else in life I've had varying degrees of success. But, I practice grace with my kids and they practice it with each other and with me. I am a very blessed man.

My faith teaches me to "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling." Out of love for my kids I've put a lot more effort into practicing this verse than I ever thought I would. It's been eight and a half years and the work I still need can be depressing! But, I can honestly say that the results I see in my children because I decided to deal with my own junk are measurable and well worth it.  

That's my view from here.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Holding Back

Before you read this entry: If the writing in this particular addition seems a little awkward, please forgive a father for protecting his kids.


When my ex and I decided to divorce, we had one child in kinder garden. This child kind of got lost in the shuffle and uncertainty of our domestic meltdown. Their reading skills weren't coming along well at all.

Near the end of that school year I got them enrolled with an after school "tutoring" company but, that didn't seem to help.

By the end of first grade things had not improved. The reading skills were sub-par and that was affecting everything else. I asked my ex to go with me to meet with the teacher. The teacher was willing to promote the child but, thought it best to hold them back.

I knew this decision was coming and had had the opportunity to think and pray about it for several weeks. If I held the child back, I was making sure they would be teased through the twelfth grade. If I insisted the child be promoted, there was a good chance we would be right back in the same spot the next year.

If I insisted the child be promoted was I condemning them to a frustrated educational experience for the rest of their life? Could it lead to the child eventually just giving up on school altogether?

While I was going through this decision making process I was also dealing with an issue with my house. The foundation was beginning to falter. I had to surround the house with soaker hoses and run them everyday for an hour. Apparently this process keeps the foundation wet enough so it doesn't get brittle and crack? I have no clue but, it's what the experts said to do. So I did it.

That's when it hit me. We were dealing with the child's educational foundation. If we didn't get it right, the foundation would falter and we could lose their entire education. That was an unacceptable risk.

The toughest decisions are often simple. Not easy, but simple.

When I put it in those terms to mom, she relented. We took the kids to Chuck-E-Cheese. We played and had some fun. We explained the decision to the child. We comforted, ate pizza and played some more.

Did the kid get teased? Yup. Do they still get teased? Yup.

This child of mine just finished eighth grade. Making the honor roll is their norm since the second time through first grade. Reading was the big hurdle. This kid has the reading comprehension level of a sophomore in college. (Which presents its own problems) Not only is the child a excellent reader but, also a gifted writer. I would not be surprised at all to see them make writing their vocation.

Yesterday, I heard an attorney say, "ten thousand hours of practice will achieve competence." That's five years of forty hour work weeks.

Does it really take that much? I don't know but, I do know that this lesson of holding back, slowing down and making sure something is mastered before moving on has blessed our lives immensely.

That's my view from here.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Help!

At one point, about a year into my little adventure, a man from church approached me. He said, "my wife is going to be gone for the weekend and it's going to be just me and the kids. It would be a good time for us to hang out." I really liked this guy and his family and I was eager to learn how people who were good at this parenting thing did it. So, I was excited.

He explained that he was coaching one of his kid's soccer team at an early morning game on Saturday so, we should show up just as the game was scheduled to end.

When we got to their home, he told my kids, "your dad isn't here, right now, anything you need or want, just ask me, I'll take care of it." As we hung out he explained how he tried to give his kids chores that were age appropriate. He explained how this helped them feel like part of the family and helped them to take ownership of the family and the house.

You see, I didn't know that. I thought my mother had assigned me chores as a kid because she was exhausted from having to work all the time. I figured I got the jobs she was either too tired to do or didn't want to do. Since I didn't have to work anywhere near as hard as my mother had to, my kids didn't have any chores other than home work.

He took us swimming at his parent's house. They lived only a couple blocks away. When we got back he had the kids shower in assembly line fashion. They were instructed not to turn the shower off. Each kid simply let him know when they were finished and he'd send the next one in. It was a model of efficiency.

At dinner time we all piled into their mini-van to go through the drive-thru at a fast food place. It was maybe a mile away. On the way there he played the "bug game" with the kids. On the way home he told a funny family story. I noticed no one fought. All seven kids were listening to the story. My kids would have had several fights by then. I usually had music on in the car and left them to their own devices. Then I would scold them when they got bored and would start to fight. Another lesson learned.

After dinner, he and I were hanging out in his office while the kids watched television upstairs. They had a "no shouting in the house" rule. So did we but my kids broke it multiple times a day. His didn't. When he needed his two older children for something he whistled - and they showed up at his office door. I was amazed. When they came into his office they immediately went to "at ease". Military style. I was flabbergasted.

Once his business with his kids was finished he explained, "I do that so they will learn respect for this place. Respect doesn't come naturally to us. We have to be taught it." I almost wish I had taken a notebook and written everything down.

I wasn't able to put into practice everything I learned that weekend. Some I forgot. Some I simply wasn't disciplined enough to make a part of our lives. But, I got a lot of it and we continue to practice it in our family today.

The lessons from that day go on and on. And so does the rejuvenation that I received. It has been a number of years since my friend invited me to his house but, every time I remember it I am reinvigorated.

If you are a single parent, I pray that someone in your life will give you a day like this. If you are someone who knows a single parent is there any way you can think of to lighten their load for just a day? A few hours?

This man didn't have to do this for me and my family. The fact that it was in his heart to do it is a miracle. It is a miracle that continues to bless the kids and I all these years later. And I am very grateful.

That's my view from here.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Straight With A Chaser

A few months before taking custody of my kids I joined the worship team at church. I became "the bass player". Everybody on the team was better than me. It was a really good worship team! We enjoyed hours upon hours of God's presence both in church services and in practice. I loved being on that team. We got to do our favorite thing in the whole world - make music. And, as a bonus, God showed up. There simply is nothing like it on earth.

Needless to say, I was committed to this team. We had one practice per week that was two hours long. We had two services per week that were three to four hours long. We had to be at church for these services an hour early. I had to practice at home to keep up.

 And we lived an hour's drive away.

It was tough on me but, I had a great payoff. It was even tougher on my kids and all they got out of it was getting yelled at during the very long, very boring car ride.

By the time Fall rolled around everyone was pretty tired of the pace. Then we had a conference at church that lasted four days. On the fourth night, Gabe was sick. He was running a fever. The little boy that was more like Ricochet Rabbit than anyone I had ever met, just wanted to lie there and be left alone.

But I had a commitment.

I told the kids, "if you're sick, church is the place to be, so you can get healed." That's what I had heard from the pulpit many times. I was confident I was in the right. So, I packed everyone in the car and off we went.

When we arrived, I was met by a woman. Let's call her Alice. Alice informed me that it was not OK to bring my sick kids to church. It was not OK to put playing bass in a band - even a worship band that was blessed by God - over my children's health and well being. She explained that she would watch Gabe away from the other kids that evening but, that this was never to happen again.

I played that night but, if God showed up, I couldn't tell.

A few weeks later we had a men's retreat. Alice's husband, we'll call him Horace, was an elder in our church. He asked to speak with me. It turned out that he was divorced and remarried. He told me a few personal things about his own situation and encouraged me not to make some of the same mistakes he made. (No, smart alec, Alice was not one of them.)

Then he said, "you know, I've watched you over the last year. You require a lot of yourself and your children. One thing that I would like to encourage you about is: you are doing this alone, now. You're not going to be able to get everything done the way you'd like. The house isn't going to be as clean as you'd like. The laundry won't get done as regularly. There simply is not going to be enough time to do everything everybody wants to do. You are on an unhealthy pace."

That afternoon I resigned from the worship team.

A few interesting things happened after that.

First, the worship team that was already really good before I got there went on being really good with out me. God kept showing up even though I wasn't playing bass.

Second, I spent that extra time with my kids. My oldest son and I started working again on an animation project we had created back in 1999. It never went anywhere but, three weeks after graduating high school he won his first animated short film contest. The next year he won again. Now, at nineteen, he owns his own animation business.

Third, I went back to writing my own worship songs. These turned into countless hours of private time with just me and the Lord. I believe that what others experience when I lead worship now is directly connected with that time.

I tell people not to drop hints with me. If you do, I am likely to bend down, pick it up and say, "excuse me, you dropped this." And I'll have no idea what you were trying to communicate. Alice gave it to me straight. Horace served me a chaser. And my and my children's lives are better for it. At least that's my view from here.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Staples In Time

We got the mess and Gabe's head cleaned up. We took Gabe to several "storefront" emergency rooms but, they all rejected us because they couldn't verify our health insurance. Finally, I took Stephan and Mackenzie to rehearsal and then took Gabe to an emergency room at a local hospital.

We'd gotten him to stop bleeding by than but, they still got him in to be seen by a doctor in under an hour. Pretty dog gone good, according to my emergency room experience. The physician had an assistant with her. I don't know if he was a physician's assistant or an intern. I do know that Gabe saved him a trip to the dentist and me a few days in jail.

They told me he was going to need staples. I guess they save time over stitches? They told me to hold his head still. I figured they were going to give him a pain killer shot. That's what they did to me when I needed three stitches in my head as a kid. They were behind him and I was in front of him. Looking him in the eyes I held his head between my hands. I was smiling and saying, "Look at me, son". When they turned around the guy had a staple gun in his hands and quickly popped two staples in my little boy's head!

Gabe immediately started shaking and crying. I held him close to comfort him and started planning how badly I was going to cuss this guy out once I was confident that Gabe was OK. In the midst of his convulsive crying, Gabe turned around, pointed at the man and said, "You go away!" And he did.

For the second time that Saturday he had me smiling at a time I never would have considered it.

The bill was $500. Two weeks later, when it was time to get the staples out, I knew I could not afford another $500 so, I took them out myself. He complained a little but, he never cried once. He was and is a pretty tough kid.

I am a blessed man.

I am amazed at how easily my kids teach me better ways to deal with life. Gabe had someone in his life causing him (in his estimation - and mine) unnecessary pain. Instead of getting angry and violent Gabe simply acknowledged his pain and told the person to get out of his life. To my knowledge, we have never seen that man again. It may not work every time but, it is an excellent first response. At least, that's my view from here.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Candy Incident

Once I got the guest bathtub fixed and found a way to pay the water bill, everything was going smoothly. Well, everything was going smoothly if you didn't count the fact that I was getting divorced, I was now trying to raise three children by myself and couldn't find any way to make any money. But, if you could manage to look past those things, my life was pretty good.

The kids no longer heard mom and dad fighting all the time. Life was very different but, it was beginning to stabilize for all of us.

After about a month of running myself ragged, getting the two older ones to Boy Scouts, football, dance, Girl Scouts, school programs, church activities, work and household chores, I had to sit the kids down. I explained to them that I could not do it all alone and they would have to choose one extra curricular activity each.

They were disappointed but, it made things much more manageable. It was a schedule I could commit to and not let them down.

Then the Candy Incident happened.

My youngest, Gabriel, has always been incredibly active. When Gabe was eighteen months old my nephew was at my house and made an observation bout him. One of his siblings called him and Gabe ran down the hall toward the bedrooms. My nephew said, "Gabe's like Forrest Gump."
   
I said, "What do you mean?"

"Everywhere he goes, he's running!"

At this point in his life Gabe's two favorite activities were rearranging the living room furniture and emptying all the pots, pans and storage containers from the lower cabinets in the kitchen.

One Saturday morning I spent three hours "child proofing" the cabinets. He watched the entire time and informed me, "that's not nice, Dad. You just don't want me to get those." He watched us diligently for a week and figured out how to open the "child proof" latches. Three hours of work for one week of peace.

On a different Saturday morning in March of 2003, I was doing some house work and the two older kids were getting ready for rehearsal for the church Easter play. I stepped out into the garage to transfer a load of laundry from the washing machine to the dryer and put another load in the washer.

As I was moving wet laundry from the washer to the dryer I heard the dead bolt on the kitchen door moving. I figured Gabe was playing with it. As I was loading more clothes into the washing machine I heard a loud crash in the kitchen, immediately followed by a scream. I ran to the door to find it locked. Now I could hear two kids crying very loudly. If I didn't know better I would have thought they were competing to see who could cry the loudest.

I panicked. I began beating on the kitchen door. Then I stopped, pushed the button on the garage door opener and walked around to the front of the house. I knocked on the door and my oldest let me in.

I was met with an interesting scene. Gabe was sitting on the floor bleeding from the top of the head. He had one hand covered in blood. there was an overturned chair on the floor beside him. Candy and broken ceramic pieces were strewn about the area. Mackenzie was standing beside him crying. Stephan, who had blood on one of his hands, was leaning over Gabe trying to comfort him. Stephan asked, "Gabby, what happened?"

It was obvious to me. My two year old had the forethought to lock me out of the house so as to not be stopped from attaining his goal. Then he dragged a chair from the kitchen table to the refrigerator where he tried to climb the appliance to get to the M&M figure on top of the fridge.He knew this figure was filled with candy. Before he could secure his booty it fell on his head and shattered. He was knocked off of the chair to sit with his dashed desires, mixed with candy, and blood, and pain.

Gabe's assessment of the situation was much better. Through his tears, he yelled offendedly,


"CANDY HIT ME!"

Now, I not only had my two youngest children crying while one was bleeding from the head but, Stephan and I were practically doubled over with laughter! I am very glad no one came to the door just then.

As crazy as it may seem, all of us there in the entry way, laughing, crying and bleeding, we started feeling like a family again. Gabe's self-inflicted injury kick started the healing process for us.  There were still innumerable issues we would have to confront together but, we had started. And this was a very good thing. At least, that's my view from here.