Category Archives: Parenting

How do I keep my kids when mommy is away? A secret dad’s guide

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This post has some insider information for the guys, so ladies – you may either want to click away – or – share this with the men in your life depending on your take on all this.

I want to help you with something that I think will transform your marriage.

A day is coming that will present a defining moment for you. When this moment arrives, I want you to not only recognize it, but make it your moment to shine.

If you have kids, the time is coming when your wife is going to say:

I’m going away for the weekend.

Now she may not say it exactly that way. She may spin it to sound like she has a church retreat or reunion or girls weekend or grandparent’s funeral to go to, but the underlying message is going to be the same.

I’m going away for the weekend. And you’re keeping the kids.

The reason this is a defining moment for you is because how you handle this will speak volumes to your wife. How you handle this may become the basis for many future discussions.

If you want to make this your moment to shine, when she tells you that she’s going away and that you’re keeping the kids, you say one thing and one thing only:

I think that’s great. You deserve a break.

And don’t you dare flinch when you say it. LIke bees and dogs, women can smell fear when it comes to their kids’ caregivers. (I don’t think that’s actually true, but it serves the purpose of this post, so I’m going with it.)

The confidence you show in that moment will be a gift to her while she’s gone. If you’re timid or half-hearted about keeping your own kids for a weekend, she’s going to be preoccupied while she’s away and won’t get to fully experience whatever it is she’s doing.

Once you’ve got your wife out the door, here’s how you survive the weekend when mommy’s away:

Relax. You can’t undo in two days what the two of you have worked together to accomplish as parents in the preceding years. You’re going to be fine.

Take charge. You’re not the babysitter. You’re the dad. You’re not 50% of the parenting equation, you’re 100% of the equation. Expect that your kids treat you like kids should treat a parent.

Keep routines. You’d think that throwing caution to the wind and being spontaneous and crazy would be the best recipe for a mom-free weekend. And it might be. My experience has been that with little ones, keeping up routines and rhythms (mealtimes, naps, snack times, etc.) is a great way to know where you stand. There’s value in having some milestones during the day for you – and the kids – to look forward to.

Have fun. I realize I just wrote about the value of keeping routines, but try to do some things you wouldn’t do on a typical weekend. If you normally play in your neighborhood, drive across town to the park with the new play structure. Stay up late and catch fireflies. Amp up the fun a little bit.

Accept help. Like it or not, people think dads are idiots. So when you’re alone with your kids you’re going to get all kinds of offers for help. Your wife’s friends are going to offer playdates. Your in-laws are going to offer to feed all of you. If you want, take the help.

Solo parenting isn’t easy. You’ll work your tail off for the whole weekend your wife is away. But when Monday rolls around and you head back to work, I guarantee you miss those kids in a way you never have before.

When your wife comes to you with the magic words that she wants to get away for a weekend, give her the gift of a worry-free break. And seize the opportunity to connect with your kids while you’ve still got ‘em under your roof.

Five things I know about being a husband: Listening

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I wonder what Mary Craig’s response would be if you asked her:

“What kind of listener is Leighton?”

I’d rank myself a 7 out of 10. It’s not so much that I’m not a great listener as it is that I’m not a great retainer.

How good are you at listening?

I said, HOW GOOD ARE YOU AT LISTENING?!?!?!

One thing I know about being a husband is that there are benefits to having an active and disciplined ear. Here’s what I’ve learned:

I gain wisdom when I listen to my wife. Mary Craig and I view a lot of big life stuff similarly, but she consistently speaks works into our home about work, family, money, God – you name it – that help me see things I didn’t see.

I tell my wife I love her by listening to her. Here’s what I mean. You subtly (or maybe not-so-subtly) communicate your estimation of value to someone when you listen, don’t listen or half-listen to them. When I can drop all the distractions and engage with Mary Craig, I show her that she’s fully valued.

I can be a better dad by listening to her. Kids get really confused by inconsistency. If I’m not tuned in to what Mary Craig has already done during the day, we run the risk of being inconsistent when I’m around. Right now, when our kids are relatively young, inconsistency is just confusing to them. But as they get older, inconsistency will come back around and bite us as the kids learn to exploit it against us.

I get ideas for gifts by listening to her. I hate getting to a birthday, anniversary or Christmas and just hearing {…duuuhhhh…} when I try to think of something to get for Mary Craig. At some point, I figured out that I could look for clues about what she would like by simply listening to her. In everyday conversation, it’s common for us to talk about products we use that we like. Or things around the house that we’d like to replace. Or to daydream and look at stuff for the house online. I try to make mental notes of those things so that when it’s gift-buying time, I’m getting something she really wants.

I can lead my family better when I listen to her. Mary Craig’s entire day is about us. She really never gets away from us. I, on the other hand, am with the kids for about three hours a day. So while I’m called to lead our family, it would be absolutely pointless to try to lead our family without esteeming Mary Craig’s perspective as the person most heavily invested in our family life. She is in a better position to give insight about the pace of life, the needs of the family as a whole, and the needs of the individuals. I am a better leader – meaning I am better able to serve – when I give my wife my ear.

What did I miss? What other benefits – philosophical or practical – build up when there’s good listening happening in a relationship?

Mixed up Christmas

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Last year’s Christmas was punctuated by a late-night Christmas Eve trip to the ER to have the boy’s head stitched up.

This year’s Christmas Eve started with me and Mary Craig at the walk-in clinic with matching sinus infections.

It hasn’t been the Christmas you would script out if you were planning the perfect Christmas.

In fact, for the past week or so, germs and illness have goofed up a lot of our family plans, as all of the kids and my parents have succumbed to illness. We’ve missed parties, church, and our traditional Christmas Eve meal together.

But we’ve still been trying to make some magic for the kids. After our run for our prescriptions on Saturday, we made a lap through Krispy Kreme for some Christmas Eve doughnuts with the kids. Later in the day, we made reindeer food and scattered it in the yard and Rudolph and his buds. And after a hearty chicken soup dinner, we bundled up on Christmas Eve and took a walk around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights. After the kids were in bed and everything was in place, we put in Love Actually and watched until we fell asleep. Christmas classic.

On Christmas morning, we discovered Santa visited and the kids had a big time opening their gifts. Son revealed to us that he woke up at 4:42 a.m., but waited patiently until 6 a.m. to come downstairs to check on the grownups. By 9 a.m., all the gifts were open, everyone was fed, and it was time to play with some new toys. For the boy, the highlight of the day was a new Nintendo DS game system. And a foam sword. Daughter’s big gift was a sewing machine. And the baby got a big girl chair from Pottery Barn Kids and an American Girl Bitty Baby doll.

In a fantastic act of mercy, the kids were quiet entranced enough with their toys after lunch that MC and I were able to grab an hour’s nap. We dozed off watching the A Christmas Story marathon.

After rest time, we loaded up and headed to MC’s mom’s house for our first public outing of the Christmas weekend. We shared gifts with Nana and opened her gifts for us and then put a dent in a big ol’ lasagna MC made for the occasion.

By the time we got home from Nana’s house last night, the kids were fried. And so were we. So after the kids were in bed, MC and I made some tea, watched an episode of Portlandia, and then hit the hay.

Today, we’ll finally get to do Christmas with my parents. They’ve been through the ringer with some germy weirdness similar to what we’ve had, so now that they’re on the mend we can get together and do family stuff.

This Christmas isn’t at all what I would have planned. But it has been a great one.

Every year they just keep getting better.

Fear is about asking the right questions

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My kids take turns asking me questions like this:

“Daddy, are you afraid of spiders?”

“Daddy, are you afraid of volcanos?”

“Daddy, are you afraid of rollercoasters?”

Based on the questions they ask, I’m not afraid of many things. And I like to think that’s true of most of life – that I’m not a fearful person in general.

But it’s not completely honest to portray that I’m not afraid of anything. It’s just that my kids just never get around to asking the right questions:

“Daddy, are you afraid that people would stop liking you if you…”

“Daddy, are you afraid you might lose money if you…”

“Daddy, are you afraid someone might get mad if you…”

For the moment, I’m content to be the hero of elementary school hearts. I can ride rollercoasters to the tops of volcanos to crush spiders.

And probably by the time they figure out the other stuff, I’ll have that figured out too.

One key to a great relationship with kids: invest now for later

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Earlier in the summer, MC had the kids at the lake by herself for a day.

Sunscreen. Sand. Juice boxes. Floaties. Towels. Sand. Sun. Seven year old. Five year old. TWO YEAR OLD WHO CAN’T SWIM.

My wife was a little tired that night.

I joined her the next day and it was just pure craziness.

Not anything bad. Just the craziness of three kids playing in the sun, sand and water.

When I caught a glimpse of how much work keeping up with all three of them was, I apologized.

“I’m sorry you had to do this by yourself yesterday,” I told her. “This seems like an awful lot of work.”

“You know,” she said, “I was tired. But it wasn’t bad. We have to do this stuff with them now so that they’ll want to do stuff with us when they’re teenagers.”

I was blown away that she could have that perspective in that moment.

She’s absolutely right.

How do you have rich experiences and deep relationships with your kids when they’re teenagers? You lay the groundwork when they’re in elementary school and when they’re toddlers by doing things together as a family.

That way, when you look at your teenagers and say, “C’mon kids, we’re going to the lake for the weekend! Everyone’s going!” they won’t look at you like you’re aliens. There’s precedent for that sort of thing.

Want a great relationship in the future? Start laying the foundation today.

What will they remember?

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Here’s a thought that’s either really scary or really hopeful, depending on how you look at it:

There are moments from my childhood that my parents planned to be very special and memorable.

and

There are moments from my childhood that I remember.

In some cases, those intersect. Most often, they don’t.

I wonder. What specific scenes are my kids going to remember?

I might be pregnant

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I think I’m going to run to Walgreen’s at lunchtime and pick up a home pregnancy test.

For myself.

I need an explanation for some stuff that’s going on with me and I’m thinking that a massive swell of hormones might be to blame.

Here’s why I think I might be pregnant.

First, I’m crying all the time.

I’ve encountered beauty, brokenness, pain, mercy and grace over the past week. For some reason, my knee-jerk response has been to tear up.

On Monday morning, after I told my son that I wasn’t going to be able to attend his end-of-the-year performance at school because I had to meet with another family at the same time, I walked to my bathroom and cried my eyes out.

On Wednesday morning, after walking my daughter to her classroom for the last time this year, I barely held it together on my way back to the car. It was our last morning together - just the two of us – since the boy starts kindergarten next year.

The second reason I think I might be pregnant is that I just don’t feel like myself.

I’ve heard stories this week of people that are bringing shame and destruction into their lives because of choices they’ve made.

My gut instinct has long been to respond first with condemnation and judgment.

“I would never _____” … is what I tell myself.

For whatever reason, as I hear these stories of darkness coming to light my first instinct is mercy. Because I know the reality is, my heart is capable of things that I can’t imagine. It’s only by God’s grace that the darkness of my heart hasn’t been broadcast on the nightly news or on Facebook or in the paper.

This response of my heart – mercy rather than judgment – is different than what I’ve known before. I don’t recognize it.

Like I said, what with the crying all the time and the not recognizing my own behavior, I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant. That’s the only rational explanation, right?

How a toddler really learns to speak

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The baby, as much as we want to deny it, isn’t much of a baby anymore. She’s 110% toddler.

As such, she’s running all around and playing and testing out her ever-expanding vocabulary. Here are some of the words we’re hearing around our house these days:

  • Mamo = Elmo
  • dadoo = pacifier
  • wawer = water
  • Nanee = big sister’s name
  • Bubba = big brother’s name
  • bubbo = bubbles
  • my = mine

So this is the part where you say, “Aww, the little baby is saying words. How sweet.” And it is sweet, in an objective, clinical, developmental sort of way.

To capture the true flavor of the baby’s loquaciousness, I’d invite you to imagine these words more like this:

Imagine that it’s dinner time and you’ve scooped the baby up to carry her to the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots something red. It might be a folder, the corner of a quilt, a ballcap or a photo in the newspaper. The baby, however, assumes it’s Elmo. And she wants Elmo.

“Mamo?” she asks.

“No Elmo,” you respond. “It’s time for dinner.”

“Mamo? Mamo?” she persists.

“Nope. Dinner,” you say.

“MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!MAMO!” for the next half hour.

That’s how we grow our vocab in our house.

A weekend daydream

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We sold our house at 3 p.m. on a Friday afternoon.

We weren’t set to buy our new house until the following Monday at 4 p.m.

For a weekend, we didn’t own a home. We didn’t have insurance or taxes or any of that stuff to worry about.

Riding in the car from the closing to the bank, Mary Craig and I daydreamed about cancelling the closing on the new house and disappearing for a while. During a celebration date the following night, we tried to figure out how long (or how short) a family of five could live someplace tropical on what we made on the sale.

We thought it would be fun to homeschool the kids and spend a year in the Caymans or in a big RV. If nothing else, we’d have great stories to tell.

In the end, those were just daydreams, and we stuck with the plans we’d made. We bought our new house the following Monday. It’s a great place. We’ll still have great stories to tell.

If you found yourself suddenly able to wander with the people you love – where would you go? What would you do? 

A season it has been

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If you keep up with me on The Twitter or know us for reals, you know that the last few months have been packed with calamity.

Calamity of all flavors.

I’ll fill you in with stories over the coming weeks, but to give it to you in broad strokes:

  • my sweet Mema died in March
  • we sold our house
  • we bought a house
  • we moved
  • the baby showed up early for the terrible twos

Gosh, when I put that stuff in a tidy list like that it doesn’t seem all that overwhelming. Anyhow, more to come, but I just wanted to drop in and let you know we’re surviving.