The other day, my kids and I headed to Home Depot to buy two items that, in most parts of the country, you’d never need to purchase at the same time. We bought a bag of rock salt for de-icing our driveway and a bag of charcoal for cooking on the grill. As we waited at the checkout line, we debated which bag we would have to use first.

There’s nothing like living in the Midwest in March. The most mixed-up of all the months – where we could get 12 inches of snow one day and 70 degree temperatures with flood warnings (because of all the thawing snow) the very next day.

As a parent, March comes with its own set of unique circumstances. The sleds need to stay available at a winter storm warning’s notice, but at the same time all the bike tires need to be inflated and ready for a sunny day bike ride around the neighborhood. (The seats also need to be raised to account for a child’s growth over the winter.)

The month of March also creates a clothing problem. Snow boots, snow suits, heavy coats, mittens, stocking caps and wool socks need to be within reach just as easily as rain coats, t-shirts, flip flips and shorts.

As much as I dislike winter, March is always the turning point for me. I’m hopeful that each snowstorm will be the last of the season.

Fellow parents, if you’re at the end of your rope, and it feels like you and your kids have been trapped in your home all season, the end of winter is near, I promise. Someday soon, it WILL be time to pack away the sleds and all the snow clothes, and start the rituals of spring and summer…time to find the sunscreen and bug spray.

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They sit there on the counter…the math assignment, the library book that’s due today, the worksheet she worked so hard on the night before…forgotten, left behind as she ran out the door to catch the bus. What was the distraction that caused her to forget this time? Was it Spirit Day and she spent her time finding the correct matching headband to go with her school shirt? Was she doing her school work last minute and simply left it behind? Was she frantically rushing back up the stairs after almost forgetting her monogrammed illuminated hand sanitizer from Justice? No matter the excuse, the result is the same. First Born left something behind that needed to be at school that day. Since the school is less than a half-mile away, of course I would bail her out of trouble, be the hero and take whatever she needed to school for her.

I used to think there was nothing wrong with me doing this for my daughter, but what was she learning from this experience? She was learning that dad was available anytime during the day and if something was forgotten, he could easily retrieve it and gladly drop it off at school. There were no consequences; in fact, I was probably doing her a disservice by taking away her ability to learn from “teachable moments.” My thinking changed the day I read an article about No Rescue Parenting.

The idea behind No Rescue Parenting is making kids responsible for their own actions by parents no longer bailing their kids out of certain situations. This isn’t a sink or swim approach, it begins with first making sure that whatever you want your child to take charge of is age appropriate, and then explaining the general shift in responsibilities from you to them – with reminders and encouragement to help them succeed.

As a parent, my natural response is to protect my child from being punished at school for a missing assignment, but long-term self-sufficiency and personal responsibility is much more important than forgotten homework.

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Daughter: “Sign this so I can be on my school’s student council.”
Me: “Oh, ok. You don’t have to have an election or anything, you’re just on it?”
Daughter: “There’s an election, but I’m going to win!”

Actually, everyone in the class was running for third grade student council (except for the five or six math club kids that couldn’t run because it conflicted with their meetings). From the beginning I tried to prepare my daughter for not winning. I just wanted her to be realistic, but she didn’t want to hear any of it. She already had the eternal optimism all political candidates possess, and now her speech was starting to sound like a legitimate politician’s too! For starters, it was full of empty promises:
1. A fundraiser where the (male) vice principal will dress up like a fairy princess.
2. A food drive that ends with the principal in a dunk tank.

She promised her classmates everything short of free candy and all-day recess. For days she practiced her speech, reciting it like Oprah handing out her favorite things….”I want to hold a food drive to get the principal in a DUUUUNNNNNK TAAAAAANNKKK!”

Finally, the big day arrived. In true political form, she was ignoring actual issues (like studying for her math and spelling tests) while only focusing on her speech – but it went off without a hitch. The only problem was the actual vote wasn’t for another two days.

Once again, like a true politician, she used her position of power in the classroom (assignment notebook checker) to get some one-on-one time with the undecided voters. Everyone would be voting for themselves so she strategized the math club kids were going to help her win. On the morning of the vote, while checking notebooks, she passed out fliers reminding these coveted voters about the dunk tanks and princess costumes.

Her hard work paid off, she did, in fact win the election.

I wonder if it’s too early to start printing presidential bumper stickers for the year 2044?

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Have you heard about Uber and Lyft? They’re kind of like taxi services except the drivers are average joes like you and me, who use their regular car, instead of taxis, to drive people around. I have a friend who drives for Lyft. He seems to like it, makes extra cash and meets new people all at the same time. While I was listening to him talk about it, I thought it seemed like a cool idea. But, since I’m a stay-at-home dad, in order for me to be a driver for Lyft, I’d have to take my kids along with me while I picked people up and took them to their destinations.

I immediately saw all the potential problems this could create.

First, the rider would have to choose very carefully where they sat. He or she could ride shotgun next to me, which would involve sitting on piles of unopened mail, Target receipts, wrappers from suckers the bank hands out and other assorted items in my “mobile office.” If that seat wasn’t desirable, he or she could choose whether to ride in the captain’s seat next to the Blonde Bomber (my daughter), or sit in the third row on sticky sucker sticks and Cheerios between Middle Man (my son) and First Born (my other daughter.)

If I were a passenger and these were my only choices, I’d ask to sit on the roof rack.

Not only would seating be an issue, there would also be some detours along the way. In addition to having riders sit in the carpool line for preschool drop-off and pickup, I’m certain at least once daily there would be an emergency potty stop, where we would have to deviate from our route to find the nearest grocery store or gas station bathroom.

Many Uber and Lyft drivers let the passengers choose the music during the drive.  This would ABSOLUTELY NOT be the case in my van. All passengers would be subject to watching and listening to DVDs such as Rio 2 and Frozen over and over. The only exception to this rule would be if my kids were napping, then there would be the need for absolute silence the entire drive.

Well, it’s pretty obvious being a chauffeur is not in my immediate future, unless instead of offering bottles of water and mints to customers like many Lyft drivers do, I offered my passengers noise-canceling headphones and hazmat suits.

For links to all my blog posts please stop by my Facebook page and check out my all new page on the Indy’s Child web site (formerly True Confessions of a Stay at Home Dad). 

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Get there early, waste time in line waiting, pick up your kid first.
Get there late, waste time waiting in line, pick up your kid last.

Whichever path you choose, you’re stuck waiting. The carpool line at preschool is kind of like a traffic jam you voluntarily put yourself into each day.

When I’m sitting in line, I’m most likely on my phone, reading the news, listening to NPR, checking things out with my blog, on FB or Twitter… stuff like that. But recently I’ve found something more interesting to do with my time – watch other people while THEY wait. The last couple of weeks I’ve noticed several types of people in the pickup line

The Overextended Mom
I’m not sure how this parent keeps her sanity, clearly getting no break from children all day long. Even though she’s picking up two or more kids from carpool, she has at least three others that are too young for preschool in her 15 passenger van.

The Excessive Groomer
Everyday it’s something: nail clipping, pimple popping, makeup applying, etc.

The Socializer
This person is always out of his or her car, talking to everyone, every day, and usually oblivious when the carpool line actually starts moving.

The Phone Talker
This parent is on the phone while pulling into the lot, waiting for pickup, while the teacher brings kids to the car, while the teacher tries to talk about the child’s day, and when driving away.

The Organizer
I thought I’d seen it all, until this person opened her sliding van door and I peered inside. It was perfect, not full of junk and clutter. There was a small plastic carousel organizer full of neatly arranged crayons. What? I’d never seen anything like it. And in the backs of seats where my kids’ stuff all their trash, hers was full of coloring books, regular books, normal kid stuff. It was amazing.

Let me know what types of people you’ve seen in carpool line at my True Confessions of a Stay at Home Dad Facebook page!

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Why are parents so confused and disoriented looking all the time? Maybe it’s because while parenting is based so much on repetition and routine, it is also constantly changing. Just think of some of the ways parents change as their kids age.

First, there’s Pre-parenting. Pre-parenting is a delusional stage, where the expectant couple thinks they are going to do things differently than all parents that ever existed before them. Pre-parents think having a child won’t change their weekend and social behavior, and that a child can just be dragged along to all the usual activities (dining out, impromptu weekend getaways, etc.) Pre-parents say things like, “We’ve had a dog as a pet for a few years…how much different could it really be?”

The next phase of parenting, The Newborn Phase, hits new parents like a brick wall. The Newborn Phase (also known as the Dark Days) is a scary place to be. Sleep deprivation firmly sets in. Simple things like going to the grocery store or taking a bike ride, now take planning, effort and coordination with others. Spending time with friends is unlikely because of “the schedule.” When you do see your friends all you do is talk about the baby.

One of the worst phases occurs after the Newborn Phase, The Perfect Parent Phase. As the baby gets a little older, parents revert back to their pre-parent cockiness. Perfect Parents only purchase handmade wooden toys AND put them all away each night. They make their own baby food and later pack lunches on car trips to avoid fast food.

Perfect Parents only last so long before they crack under the pressure they put on themselves. They eventually give up the losing battle of neat play areas and organized toy closets. These parents will also be the first to pull over for a Happy Meal if it buys them 15 minutes of peace and quiet on a road trip.

Parenting. We’re all on this crazy ride together, so we might as well enjoy it.

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Most weekdays I eat breakfast with my kids. But during the week, I’m rushed at breakfast time. This block of time is not only reserved for eating, but also for putting the finishing touches on school lunches, reminding kids to brush their teeth, rounding up books, coats, shoes, signing assignment notebooks and helping to finish the last few “forgotten” math homework problems. It is a rushed experience. We don’t speak much. Our weekday breakfasts are, for lack of a better term, “utilitarian.”

The weekends are a different story. Weekend breakfast is a whole family ordeal that involves eggs, homemade waffles or pancakes and lots of bacon. We sit around and talk for a while, usually about what we want to do that day. But what starts off as a whole family discussion quickly turns into a monologue by First Born. Maybe it goes back to the birth order chart, but our oldest cannot be part of a conversation without taking over entirely. My wife and I have lovingly started to call it “The Breakfast Filibuster.”

What may start off as a conversation about family bike rides and trips to the park soon turns into what she wants for Christmas, a list of her best friends, her favorite school lunches or all of us being reminded for the ten-thousandth time that she once stayed up until 2 am, but her brother and sister DIDN”T GET TO DO THAT!

Unlike the government, no supermajority can defeat a filibuster. In our house, there’s no way to block it, we just sit there and wait it out!

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