How Great Thou Art

So we are in a stage where our youngest is teething and our older two have decided not to really do a thing that mommy and daddy say. Patience is indeed a virtue. When you do not have kids you laugh at parents in the mall saying "Jimmy I'm going to count to three and you better - Jimmy I'm serious! Let go of the - JIMMY -- FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY GET DOWN FROM.....Jimmy I'm going to count to three. One, Twoooooooo - JIMMY GET YOUR FINGER OUT OF YOUR SISTER'S NOSE THIS INSTANT...."

Well you get the picture. I swore early on as a childless father that I would never be "that guy" at the mall. "Kids should just obey you when you tell them to do something" was my belief and mantra.

Enter the kids - toss the mantra out the window. I now understand that the parents were not counting for the benefit of the children. The parents were counting so that they wouldn't unwind like a spring on an overwound clock.

Timeout is a joke, spanking doesn't work. Parents are forced to become "that guy" at the mall.

Therefore I am in the process of writing a song to the tune of "How Great Thou Art". This is probably the most beautiful gospel song ever written. It has been a part of my life as long as I can remember which is back to the age of about 3 or 4 when I sang it in church. To this day I find myself singing it or whistling it as I work through a stressful moment in life. If you don't know that song, listen to the great Elvis singing here >> LINK.

This song is initially titled "Then Screams My Child..."

THEN SCREAMS MY CHILD
By: The Dude

When I lay down
at 1:30 in the morning,
my bones weary from
working all day long.

You start to cry
and scream and shout
real loudly, my ears
begin to bleed real
badly from deep within.

So I get up and
stumble to your bedroom,
I pick you up and
hold you close and
start to sway.

--CHORUS--
Then screams my child
My God you are so loud.
The neighbors wake and
our pets run around.

It never stops -
from 6 am to
7 or 8pm I pray that
you will stop and
give my ears a rest.


I'm going to count
to one and two and three-
and maybe four or five
if I am really tense.

It's not for you
that I count so clearly -
It is for me and
myself all alone...



That's all I got so far but hopefully I can get the lyrics cleaned up and get Josh Groban to sing it...

Bye

Mondays always seem to last forever. A long day of work leads into a long night of work on projects and programming. The few short hours in between are scattered with screaming, crying, hugging, and laughter with the kids. My little princesses continue their surge toward "independence." As I tucked them into bed tonight I had to try really hard but gave in and giggled like a little girl with my daughters.

As I leaned over my middle girl, she motioned for me to come near and she quietly whispered "Daddy yo a butt-head."

Her giggle is infectious and I tried not to laugh as the elder child succumbed to the giggles.

"That's right Daddy, you're a booty head!" She exclaimed.

I giggled quietly then had to be the mature one.

"Now girls, that's not very nice to say. You have hurt my feelings" I said.

Now at this time, I was expecting to get at least one "I'm sorry". I figured with one older daughter and young daughter I had a 50/50 shot. Yeah right. With a long night of work ahead of me I kissed the girls again and said "Ok you girls need to settle down and go to bed. Daddy's gotta get back to work and I can't keep coming in here to tell you to go to sleep. I love you and you all have sweet dreams."

"Bye Daddy!" said the oldest child.

"I'm not leaving... I'll be in the den." I replied.

"I Know, Daddy... " She said. "That is 'goodnight' in Spanish".

Te quiero a nenas.

Daddy loves you.

The Collection

This morning on the way to school, we had to drop Izzy off at the vet for her shots and to get fixed. Part of the adoption agreement was that we would do both within 30 days of taking her from the Humane Society facility. As a result of taking an early trip to the vet, we missed breakfast at school this morning so I stopped at Burger King to get the girls something to fill their loudly growling stomachs. We settled on milk and French toast sticks... they could have worse. As we were sitting there in the drive-thru, Emma looked up into the (car) window and saw Chloe's reflection.

"Chloe, sweety, look in the window - " she began, "do you see yourself? That's called your collection."

"Ooooooooooooooooohhhh!" Chloe exclaimed.

As I giggled I asked Emma "What is that called again?"

[Insert brief pause here]

"Oh did I say collection?" she asked. "I used the wrong word. It's your fuhflection, Chloe"

Satisfied with herself, we drove off to go eat breakfast at school.