Silliness and Parenting

So Cloften, where have you been?  You know, I’m not really sure.  I think it has been a combination of a lot of things.  Things have been pretty busy in the new town, new job, etc.   I’ve been a little distracted.  Moving so fast in my paying job, that I have been doing a lot of nothing, and avoiding this–my non-paying job.  I also think in part, in the old days (you know, earlier this year), this was a great outlet for teaching/communicating when I wasn’t teaching a lot on Sunday morning.  Teaching 3 out of 4 weeks has changed that.

Then when you go a couple of weeks without blogging, you feel like the one that brings you back should be huge or, using the word of the season, epic.  That’s a lot of pressure, even if it is only internal.  So after being a headcase for a few days, I have decided to go the opposite.  This is not epic.

First, a little background.  (BTW, you know what I like about blogging compared to writing papers for English teachers? I can have a “sentence” like “First, a little background” with no subject or verb and it’s OK.  No one is grading this)  Over the last couple of months there have been a couple of strange developments in the old family.  There is a storyline developing around our house involving 2 fictitious people and some semi-celebrities.  It is way too silly to even get into.  There is a love triangle, a dude with a snaggle-tooth, everything you would need to make a great novel.  Now there is a song.  The song tells the story.  This song is called “advice,” though there is nothing remotely close to advice in it. This advice must be sung every morning, or like a couple of days ago when the song was not sung, I accidentally drove my car in a lake (not really.  settle down, Mom).

In addition to this, we all have characters that we play now.  We are not only the Loften family, we are part of another family as well–the Poc family.  Many of the stuffed animals are in this “family” as well and they have roles to play.  Some are too sophisticated; we don’t like them.

At this point, you are likely having one of several reactions.  “That sounds like a lot of fun.” “Do I know any professional family counselors in NWA?” “I wonder what other churches there are in NWA?”

Irregardless (take that English teacher), we have fun in our house.  Unlike that uppity Penguin, Dolphin or that chowder pants Tuxedo Dog, none of us are too sophisticated to just be silly and have fun with each other.  Much of life is serious.  Adjusting to a new town, school, job, church are all very serious.  They are time-consuming and emotionally draining.  Great reasons to feel like you just don’t have the energy to deal with Cheetah-Poc trying to intimidate everyone.

However, it is exactly these times where you need to find extra energy.  When you are tired and drained is the perfect time.  When they are still young enough to want you to do this is the perfect time.

We have a reputation with some to run a pretty tight ship when it comes to discipline.  I can’t deny that, but we also be trying to do our goodest to make it a fun ship as well.  (Hee hee, English teachers)

Some Wins for the Home Team

It has been a wild couple of months in the lives of the Loften family.  Moving is never easy.  Leaving friends is never easy.  Getting adjusted to a new town, new school, etc. is never easy.

In some ways it has been easiest on me.  I’m the one who instantly has something to do, a base of people and relationships.  I go to work, meet with people from the church, etc.  The girls on the other hand have a had a more difficult time.  Being the new girl in school is not a role that either a 4th or a 7th grader wants (Clearly, I must be speaking hypothetically now, because there is no way that my two baby girls are that old.)

It has also been rough what with the house not selling and all.  Two bedroom apartment with said 4th and 7th grader sharing a room and also an apartment so full of allergens that I’m pretty sure stock in Zyrtec has gone up in just the last couple of months.

But more than that it has just felt like we can’t catch a break.  We want our house to sell.  We want to be in “our place,” but we can’t get there yet.  It just feels like we’re taking a lot of losses and we’re ready for the big win.

Well, I wouldn’t say last week we had huge victories, but we had some small ones.  Maylee and a friend of hers entered a lip-synch competition at Ozone, a local para-church youth ministry.  They won!  It was really cool.  They practiced for weeks and did a great job.  Her prize was a $5 Chick-Fil-A gift card.  (Her response:  Dad, if I give this to you, would you just give me five bucks?  Sad and proud at the same time)  She and her friend were very excited and we were excited with her.  There is a next stage in the competition next week where she and her friend could win $50 each.  So we are still rehearsing and refining.  Girls Just Want to Have Fun haunts my dreams.

The next day Lauren won a Trailblazer award for her grades, attitude and citizenship in class.  About 3 kids from each class got one.  She was very excited and as you can see, her circle of goofy friends were excited for her as well.  We celebrated that together as a family as well.

There are a couple of things that I’ve discovered over the last couple of weeks.  First is that you cannot celebrate these small victories with your kids enough.  In fact, small victories may not be the right way to describe them, because I assure you they are not small to them. (Although Lauren was unimpressed with the magnitude of the button she received)  They are huge to them.  They need to be huge to you as well.

Also, for you dad types out there, I cannot emphasize enough how important your strength and stability are to your family and your kids.  Transitions and difficult times may be tough on you, but they are tougher on them.  That gets multiplied if you are not engaged and focused and loving and serving them.  Celebrating their wins, and hugging them when they hurt.  They need you, more than you think, a lot more.

Because “Daddy dear, you know you’re still number one, but girls they want to have fun.”

(Sorry for that)

Random Parenting Tips or What I Do While at Chick-Fil-A

Wellpst, I’m hanging out in my office away from office (Chick-Fil-A) on Monday morning, and there is a family with a little girl, probably around 3.  She was uber-cute, but let’s say she was active(?), no that’s not it, loud(?), nope that’s not it, hmmm, belligerent, defiant, uh you get the point.

Disclaimers

1) I judge no one or their parenting, I mean no one based on an incident in public.  We’ve all been there.

2) I also will not judge based on what your 2 or 3 year old does.  We’ve all been there too.  If you haven’t yet, please don’t ever look at a 2 yr old acting like Taz and say to someone, “My child will never…”  Seriously, it just keeps you from eating one more set of words.

3) There is no verse to go along with this post.  Maybe there is a verse in Proverbs I could use to justify some of this.  More than anything these are just some thoughts I have on parenting.  Since I’m the only one who has the password to post stuff on here, I write the stuff.

Anywho, this little girl, again that is very cute, is not maintaing good public decorum.  Her mom then says, “You are in big trouble, when we get home.”  Not good.  Maybe for a 10 year old.  In an hour, that kid is not going to remember at all the infamous “flinging of the chicken nuggets” or “screaming of the banshee.”  She will have moved on. There will be no connection in her mind.  Punish her then or just don’t.  If you feel like you can’t, because of where you are, then forget it.  The punishment at home will make you feel better, relieve some tension and anger (not good motivators for discipline FYI), but it will not change behavior.

Simyalarly, if the kid is acting out in public, you need to take some action.  You do not want to get into a situation where your child knows that they have the upper hand in public.  They will destroy you with that knowledge.  I know, I know, not your precious angel, but, you know, other kids do that.  Kids that age are trying to determine what the boundaries are, and in their way are trying to figure out who’s in charge.  They want it to be them.  (They are no different than any of us in that way.)  Kids need to know that you are in charge.  They need your help.  They need appropriate boundaries.  Help them by communicating to them in a healthy and firm way that they will hear and get the message.

Right after that, the kid begins running around the table screaming trying to get attention.  Then she starts saying this, “Mommy, I’m talking.”  She said this over and over and over and over with a sarcastic tone that said, “Excuse me, I’m talking.  You are interrupting.  You have to stop and focus only on me.”

Let’s forget for a second the disrespect of a kid interrupting to tell you that you shouldn’t speak when she speaks.  (After you forget, remember and don’t let your kids do that.)  Why is this kid saying that?  Why does a kid lash out like that?  I wonder if she feels like she is ever getting the full attention of her parents.  Many kids that scream, literally or figuratively, “notice me. notice me!” don’t ever feel like they get your full attention.  Ask yourself, does my kid ever get my whole attention, my face, my eyes, my heart?  If she can’t get your attention in healthy ways, expect that your kid will try in unhealthy ways.  “Sweetie, I know you are talking.  Don’t interrupt.  I will talk to you in just a second.”  Then, in just a second, do, in fact, give your undivided attention.

There is kind of a vicious cycle going here.  The kid has no boundaries, so she acts wild.  The parent doesn’t do anything about it and ignores it.  Parents start tuning out the kid.  Now the kid can’t get parents’ attention no matter what she does, and needs to lash out in incredible ways just in the hope of getting some attention.  Sometimes even then, they can’t.  If they do, it’s bad.

Break the cycle.  Give your kids boundaries.  Give them attention.

Give them what they need without giving in.

Watching Your Kids Get Hurt

It had been quite the buzz on my daughter Maylee’s Facebook page that she auditioned for a musical last weekend.  She did a great job.  I was so proud of her.  She had never done this before.  She had been in children’s musicals at church (a little different), but had never auditioned for something like this.  To be in musicals and plays is a dream of hers.  She practiced this song all week and went to this children’s theater and belted it out.  I was frying in the sun at a Ft. Smith soccer tourney, but Heidi says that she did great.

Well that was Saturday, and the next couple of days were full of anxious anticipation.  Over 200 kids tried out for about 10 parts, so she knew the chances weren’t great, but she was giddy with anticipation.  We didn’t understand why she had to wait from Saturday to Monday, even though kids were auditioning on Sunday.  We didn’t understand why as soon as those auditions on Sunday were over that the results weren’t up.  We didn’t understand why we didn’t know before we went to school on Monday.  We didn’t understand why when we got picked up from school that the results weren’t posted.  We don’t understand why when it said “by 7 pm” that they waited until 6:45.

I’m not being cute by saying “we,” because both Heidi and I in different places probably hit the refresh button on our computers 100 times each on Sunday night and Monday.  When it wasn’t posted on the internet when I picked Maylee up from school, we drove across town to see if it was posted at the facility.  We really wanted this for her.

Well, at 6:45 it was up, and Maylee had not gotten a part.  I was at home, and the girls were at a soccer practice.  I was tasked with telling Maylee.  It was not easy.  I hated every bit of it.  After I hung up the phone, I almost (?) cried.  I think I can honestly say that I was more hurt than she was.  She bounced back rather quickly.  I didn’t.

She is getting ready to do another audition in the next few weeks (she is trying to keep this one on the down-low.  She went pretty public with the last one. So you will get no details, and don’t ask her.).  She has tremendous courage and is pursuing her dream with conviction.  I know all the right things.  Disappointment is good for kids.  It’s teaching her to work hard. Life isn’t handed to you. Blah blah blah, leave me alone.  When my baby girl hurts, I hurt, often worse.

I thought that if I wrote this post, I would ultimately process through all of this and it would come together with some sort of teachable moment that would make it worth your time to have read this.  Don’t know that I have one.

I just wish that my girls didn’t have to face disappointment.  I wish I could protect them from that, but I can’t.  I can however, walk along side them, love them, praise them, cry with them and be their biggest fans.  I can love them and support them so much that I am as happy as they are when they are happy and as sad when they are sad.

(P.S. Despite rumors to the contrary, I will not be going after the director.  “Great, Cloften, way to ruin the teachable moment.”  Sorry, my bad.)

Offloading Your Kids, Early and Often

We met my parents at Fergusons restaurant near Marshall for lunch on Saturday.  They then took our girls back to Branson for a few days.  It’s been about 36 hours now and this is when I really start to miss them.  They say they miss me, but water slides and roller coasters tend to make my girls forget that they even have parents.  I digress, as always.   We have done this a lot over the last 12 years, not the meet at Fergusons, but the offloading of kids to grandparents for days of eating bad, partying hard, and sleeping rarely.

Being at Fergusons reminded me of one of the first times that we did this.  Maylee was 2 and Lauren was still internally attached to her mom.  We met my folks there and we had not told Maylee that she was leaving with Mimi and Rowr (my parents).  She had spent the night with them before and been fine, but we didn’t know how she would react to know in advance, so we said nothing.  After lunch (It might have been a late breakfast.  Does that even matter?), we walk outside.  Maylee gets ahead of all of us, opens Mimi’s car, sits in the back middle seat, buckles herself with the lap belt and then doesn’t make eye contact with anyone.  We all start laughing.  She has this look on her face that says, “I don’t know what you think the plans are, but I am going wherever the people in this car are going.”  Lucky for us, that was the plan.

From the time both of our children were little, they have had no anxiety about spending the night or a week with either sets of grandparents, other family friends, going to camp, whatever.  They both are very adventurous and brave.  A summary of your likely reactions :

1) “You evil ogre of a father.  You left your kids with other people over night at age 2?  You should be ashamed”  It’s worse than that.  They were both 15 months when we first did that, as soon as they were no longer externally attached to their mom (We’re all adults here, right?).

2) “I’m so jealous.  I can’t get my spouse to agree to stuff like that.”

3) “You are so lucky.  My kids would never do something like that.”

I have heard all three of those reactions.  People have said, in one form or another, all of that to me.  Here is what I believe–whether or not spending the night away from parents is scary to a kid is almost exclusively a function of the parents’ attitudes.  Little kids think that anything that is new is scary.  Anything that is different is scary.  Anything that is unknown is scary.  It is our job to tell them what is our is not scary. (I have talked about this before, with regard to speaking to adults and roller coasters.  See here.) 

Be honest, it is you that are scared to leave your kids with family for a couple of days.  It is you that gets nervous when you drop your kid off at their class at church.  Right?  “No Cloften, you big judgmental jerk.  You should see how scared they get when I drop them off.”  Of course they do, they are feeding off of you.  You tell them that they are going to have fun, that you love them and walk away.  Then, they have fun and are significantly less anxious the next time.  Hopefully you will be too.

Now I know that even the most confident of kids will go through some separation anxiety.  Some day I will tell you about the time when toddler Lauren literally tore down the walls in her class (It was a make-shift hallroom class made of temporary walls.)  You know what fixed it?  Consistently dropping her off with no drama from us, never going to “check on her” (which translated means, calming my own nervous heart), and lots and lots of Teddy Grahams.

In what I want for my girls, closely behind passionate love for God, respect and kindness, is confidence.  I want my girls to believe that they can go through life, depending on God and believing confidently that they can be and do whatever it is that God has called them to be.  I never want their fear and insecurity to hold them back.

There are some things that are scary.  Snakes–scary.  Dudes in trenchcoats with candy–scary.  Life–not so much.

Calling Your Daughter “Dorkface” and the Need For Therapists

Earlier this week, the Morning Rush on B98.5 in Central Arkansas (listen live here) did a segment on nicknames that you have for your kids or a nickname that you had as a kid.  As some of you may know, I am prone to texting in to this radio program on occasion.  I like saying funny things and then people hear them.  (That’s one of the main reasons I blog)  Well, I texted in some of the numerous nicknames that I have for my girls:

Maylee: Pip, Pipperpants, Sissy. Lauren: Lou, Squeak, Gooberfish, Dorkface.

As this was read on the air, the host comments, “Well, there’s a couple of dollars into the therapist’s jar.”  It was especially funny to me that she would say that, since I talk about my girls’ future therapists all the time.  Just last week I said, “When you are talking to your therapist in the future, try to remember that I sat and watched an iCarly movie with you.”  I even referenced my girls’ future need for a therapist on cloften.com last week here. 

Anywho, what kind of dad would call his daughter Dorkface?  Aren’t you legitimately setting her up for a therapist?  Here’s the thing, though.  She is a dork.  So am I.  She wears that nickname as a badge of honor.  She doesn’t want to be “regular.”  She never has (good thing too).  We are dorks together, being who we are.  She’s not what a little girl is “supposed to be,” and her dad is not a “regular pastor.”  We are not trying to be rebels and be different for different sake.  We are just being who God has uniquely designed us to be.

Sometimes it is hard to embrace different in your child.  Often when that baby girl or baby boy comes out, we can close our eyes and imagine what he or she is going to be.  We map their lives out.  If we had such a plan with either of our girls, they shattered them many, many years ago.  We strongly believe that God designed our two precious girls and that he has a great plan for them to be used by him for their whole lives.  Our role is to help shape their values, character, point them to God, and then someday get out of the way and watch God use them to change the world.  One of them plans to be an actress/boutique owner and the other a cake designer/comedienne.  Well, ok then.

Am I messing my kids up and giving them fodder for future therapists? Sure, we all are.  But it is not from embracing my girls in how they are different, loving who they are, and being good enough friends with them to tease them. 

Loving my little Dorkface is reducing that bill not adding to it.  Now, you call her that, and I might take you out.  Don’t make me get all “Papa Bear” on you.  That’s my nickname, BTW.

Embracing the Fishbowl

Well, my older daughter has a FB page now.  We had a deal worked out, in part because of the move and also as a reward for good grades.  You might would think that this is about to turn into a sappy blog post where I lament how old she is getting.  I’m going to save that one for when she asks to get her driver’s permit.  I know that some people are hesitant to allow there kids access to the social media.  However, the overwhelming number of people in her class already had one, so it can’t be too widespread.

Most people’s concerns come down to privacy issues.  People don’t want their children’s info or pictures “out there.”  The world is a scary place and there are a good number of Mervy McChestersons out there on the internets.  However we have some good controls in place that we feel good about.

But really, she is already “out there.”  If you don’t believe me, look at the banner on the top of this page.  There they are.   Click on the tag “parenting” or “daughters” at the bottom of this post.  Her pictures are out there, stories are out there.  Our life is the proverbial fish bowl.

Often I have heard pastors and their families complain about the fishbowl.  Why is everybody watching our every move?  Why do they scrutinize us so?  People get frustrated and discouraged by people watching them and feel like it is undeserved and unwanted pressure.

We say, “Bring it on.”  I don’t say that because I’m perfect.  I’m not.  We’re not.  If you look (and not very hard) you will see a man full of flaws with a family that is working on stuff the way that all families are.  However, I’m going to tell you about them, perhaps even before you see them.  You are going to know me and who I am, what I’m good at and what I’m not.  The same for my family.  We are out there for the world to see.

This calls us up.  We know that the world and the church need leaders and examples to follow.  However, no one needs someone who is pretending to be something that they are not, pretending to be perfect, pretending to have it all together.  The problem with living in a fishbowl is not that people can see, it is when you have things to hide.  Mind you, I go to lengths to protect my girls’ privacy.  They are never the villains in my stories.  If it is embarassing to them, you won’t hear about it from me.

But we as a family have been called by God to lead people and a local church.  Our lives are public lives.  Here’s the kicker.  So is yours.  Jesus said that you are the light of the world.  People are looking to you to find answers.  What does it mean to be a follower of Jesus?  Can Jesus in your life really make a difference?  People are watching.  What are they seeing?

What I hope they see in us is a family that is not perfect, but is honest.  A family that loves God and loves each other.  A family that wants to honor God and be the people that he has called us to be.  We can’t fight the fishbowl, because that is where we live.  That’s where you live too.

Embrace the fishbowl.  Be transparent.   Be real.  Be somebody that people want to be.

She Said What?

The fam and I went swimming over the weekend.  FYI, my girls would swim 24/7 given the opportunity.  They have been know to be in a swimming pool for 8 hours straight.  They have never even hinted that they were ready to go home. 

Anywho, the girls and I have a series of games that we play.  One is where one of us is on one side of the pool giving clues about something and the rest of us have to guess.  When we think we know, we have to swim across the pool and guess.  If wrong, we have to swim back.  I, as I am prone to do, ruin the integrity of the game by constantly swimming back and forth guessing random things.  (Item #412 on the list “Things Maylee and Lauren Will Have to Explain to Their Therapist”)

Maylee is “it” and gives the following clues:

This is a person

He has black hair

He is somone I admire more than anyone

He is my role model in everything

At this point, Lauren takes off swimming and guesses “Daddy.”  Maylee says that is right.  I am stunned.  Why?  Because I think it’s awesome that Maylee would still describe my mostly salt, salt-n-pepper hair as black.

Seriously, what did she just say?  I am whom she admires most in the world?  Role model in everything?  I can’t accurately explain the conflicted feelings of pride and absolute fear that I felt in that moment.  Now mind you, I have taught on numerous occasions to dads that what she said is what kids believe.  Even daughters, perhaps especially daughters.  It’s one thing to teach it to other people, it is another thing entirely to hear those words come out of my daughter’s mouth and to have the other daughter so quickly guess it.

Everything that I do is being watched.  Everything I say or do is being put into the category of “that’s the way to talk and act.”  Everything.  I’m sure that she has a filter to filter out the bad things that she hears me say or do, but I’m guessing that each one of those breaks her heart and/or confuses her in some way.  “Easy, Cloften, that’s way too much pressure.   Get back to what I came here for: mediocre cynical, humorous obervations about life and pop culture.”  I know that it’s a lot of pressure.  Believe me, I know.  The pressure is not from me though.  It is from your kids.  We would all do well to feel some of that pressure and do our best to live up to it.  We would also do well to learn to depend on a God who loves us and is helping us become like his son, Jesus, and to point our children to that same God.  Remember, though God is described very often as Father, so it continues to boomerang back on you dads.

On the positive side, though, our kids do look at us through rose colored glasses.  How do I know?  She said I have black hair.

Because I Said So

Those are haunting words that make kids fume with anger and can give those of us who are no longer kids horrifying flashbacks of the times we have heard that phrase.  You ask, “why?” and Mom or Dad say, “because I said so.” 

When you heard this growing up, you swore on anything you could think of that you would never, ever say that to your kids.  You would give them reasoned, thoughtful answers to every question that they ever ask.  Ask why once, I will give you an answer.  Twice, thrice, quadrice (?), no problem.  They can keep asking why and you will hang in there with them and keep giving them good answers to the why question.

Then it happens, they push you too hard, too far or at the wrong time and you say it, “Because I said so!”  Maybe you have chosen to mask the phrase with it’s nearly identical twin, “Because I’m your dad/mom,” but nonetheless you said it.  They overreact and then you slink back into your bedroom, close the door and weep, despondent about the loss of the idealism of your perfect always patient, gracious and thoughtful parenting style.  You have in fact, become just like your mom/dad.

I have released this.  I have become my dad.  I parent very much like he did.  The most recent example occurred at the soccer field this weekend.  My daughter in an attempt to stop the other player from attacking the goal charged the player, missed the ball, but, in fact, did not miss the player.  Had someone from Cabot High School’s football program been there, he would have wanted to talk to me and get some info on this 3rd grade prospect.  The other girl goes down hard, and rightfully, starts to cry and is carried off.

Later on at home, my mom (my folks were at the game) ask me about the incident and would it have been OK for one of my girls to cry on the field.  (Half ?) Joking, I say, “you know how I was raised, what do you think?”  “Well, you do have girls, you know.”  “Yeah, but their playing sports.  Getting hurt is part of it.  Shake it off and keep playing.  If you don’t want to get hurt, let’s take a knitting class.”  (I’m not sure if that last line is sexist, insulting to people who knit or just funny.  You be the judge.)

We all to one degree or another parent as we were parented.  You know that’s not all bad.  You turned out OK, didn’t you?  At least in some ways.  The real question is do we parent like we were parented on purpose or accidentally?  Do we not parent like we were parented for good reason or just as a continuation of teenage rebellion?  Take the good from how you were parented and gladly reproduce it.  Analyze the weaknesses and make changes when you need to.  Talk to your spouse, friends, other family and invite them to help you evaluate how you are doing.  Pray, read Proverbs.  Parent on purpose with a strategy and with consistency. 

You know, every now and then a kid needs a good, “because I said so” because your authority should be enough and they need to know it (just don’t don’t tell your parents).

p.s.  I do let my kids cry when they are legitimately hurt.  You and I may just have different definition of “legitimately.”

Disney World, Fayetteville, What’s the Difference?

Sorry that I have been away and not blogging.  I know that matters to, well, no one.  We went on Spring Break for a week and I made a commitment to not get on the computer any.  I didn’t.  I did have my pocket computer with me, read iPhone.  Barely tweeted or FB, played some Words with Friends, but for the most part was computer-free and family focused.

We went to Fayetteville for a few days to see some friends and then we went to Branson to spend a couple of days with my folks and go to Silver Dollar City.  At one point, Heidi and I had talked about taking the kids back to Disney World.  We (me) love going there and the kids of course love it as well.  However, it didn’t really work out schedule-wise.  I had a wedding the last weekend of spring break and it would not have worked well.  So what do we do instead?  Go to Fayetteville. 

That’s the same, right?  If not the same, close, right?  Let me tell you, in the minds of my girls, it was.  We stayed at the Hog Cottage, which is owned and operated by our friends.  Check it out here.  It is right off the campus.  You can see the stadium from the front yard.  My girls loved it, and asked multiple times while we there and more since we got back about staying there again.  They thought it was great.  They had their own bedroom!  Woo-hoo!  (They have their own bedroom at home, fyi.)  There was a TV! (Have one of those)  There were snacks! (Got those at home too).  We played lazer tag, rode a mechanical bull, rode go-carts and went out to eat.  It snowed 14 inches while we there and we went sledding.  Not exactly Pirates of the Caribbean and Space Mountain, but close.

What did they love that trip so much?  We were togtether having fun.  We were doing something different and they had my undivided attention.  I have worked very hard in the past to plan expensive, fun trips.  The girls love them, but they love these just as much.  I want to create big, fun memories for them, stuff that they will remember forever.  They want me to stop at Sonic for happy hour and buy them a drink. 

What do they want?  They want me.  Sure, they might prefer me at Disney World than me at Fayetteville, but not by much.  We’ll go back to Disney some day, but I don’t feel any pressure, because what they really want is me. 

BTW, please don’t tell them you read this.  Otherwise, they will start intentionally not having fun on vacations so we will go back to Disney.

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