Kinecting with Family

In preparation for Thanksgiving: "Noah, we're gonna celebrate Grandpa's birthday and Thanksgiving with our family like Brynn and Candace and Augusta and Grandma and Baby Kate and..." -> Noah as we pass the Galleria: "and Galleria!"

Me: "Happy 65th birthday, Grandpa. Can we play with your present?" Grandpa got an Xbox Kinect, and their house has never been more intense. Now we wear comfy clothing because we know we'll break a sweat when we visit.

Noah is so into Kinect that he pulled a muscle and popped a blood vessel in his leg from jumping around so much. Every time he finishes a game: "I got a gold medal!" Even Ari gets into it and imitates the hilarious movements, but she doesn't have to worry about hitting her head or hands on the ceiling.

It's a lot of fun to watch everybody play, especially seeing Grandma and Grandpa working it. I can't wait to see the dancing game. Noah has even been very patient about sharing turns. The main problem now is explaining that we can't just go over there anytime we want.

Noah: "I'm thankful for Chuck E. Cheese and going to the park with Daddy. What are you thankful for, Daddy?" -> Me: "I'm thankful for my wonderful Kinection with you and the rest of our family."

Hearing Implored

"Noah, please come inside...Noah, it's time to go in the house...Noah, let's go!...(no reaction)...That's it. No books before bed." Noah immediately pleads as if his life depends on it, "I can listen! I can listen to you!"

Mary and I don't know how to respond except "Really? Why don't you then?"

Noah's response has become so automatic that he says it every time he gets in trouble no matter what actually brought on the condemnation. He acts as if the universe is conspiring against him and swallowing his freedom. Although this is his last ditch effort to evade punishment, his proclamation ironically reiterates our frustration and cements his guilt. In our heads, Mary and I finish his statement for him, "I can listen to you...but I choose not to."

As long as he refuses to listen, we'll be listening to his refuse.

Never Ending MonStory

The most common phrase in our house these days: "Daddy, can you tell me about a monster?"

Almost any story will do. This would probably work for Noah: "One day AriMonster went for a walk to...THE TARGET STORE! She went inside and found...TOYS! She tried to take a race car off the shelf but all of the toys fell and trapped her...TargetMonster saw the accident and called for help...who came to help? NOAHMONSTER! NoahMonster ran through the aisle with his magic broom and swept all of the toys away - flying and crashing off the shelves...then NoahMonster picked AriMonster up and took her to...CHUCKECHEESE! They went in and played SKIBALL!...but the game was broken...so they called MOMMYMONSTER! for help. She brought her toolbox and NoahMonster was her assistant and they fixed the game. Then they scored 1,000 points and won a prize...a FLASHLIGHT! They took the flashlight home and the house was dark because the power was out...they used the flashlight to look in the freezer and they saw...ICECREAM! It was melting without power so NoahMonster, AriMonster, and MommyMonster ate the whole carton of ice cream...then they all took a long nap."

If you think your journey is over and your story has finished - you haven't been around here often...

The second most common phrase in our house these days: "Daddy, can you tell me about another monster?"

Living on a Square

Before our kids were born, Mary and I took quite a few road trips. We went to the beach, visited friends and family, and even enjoyed romantic getaways. Now our ventures are usually few and far between, but our mileage picks up in the summer.

"Daddy, but how are we getting to the beach?"

"We're on our way. We're driving on the highway."

"But why are we driving on the highway?"

"Because we can go fast."

Sometimes we feel like the questions and wining will never end, but we can thank Dora for helping to ease the pain of long trips. Her annoying friend ("I'm the map!") has helped Noah understand how journeys work and how to plan a trip. After both of us got frustrated during his line of questioning, I reached behind Mary's head rest and drew an imaginary map on the square surface, "First we'll drive over the mountains. Then we'll drive through the train town. Then we'll drive through the woods. Then we'll drive on the really big highway. Then we'll drive around a city to our hotel." The specific description of our plan and landmarks for him to spot worked pretty well if you don't count the six times he asked, "Can you show me that map again?" He also felt special when we'd tell him that we were looking for a rest stop with a great playroom for him to run around.

We did the same thing for our trip to Boston, and the exciting people-mover walkways and security "checkpoint" helped as well. We just have to make sure that we don't forget any important details on the itinerary. Otherwise Noah will chastise us for not following the plan. Anuj, Maria, and Nujy's parents took turns playing "knock down" with Noah, where he knocks them down on the grass and they get up for more. Noah also fell in love with Indian musical TV. Squal's wedding was a blast and well worth the trip, and he knocked us off our feet with three big surprises. Their official on-the-alter wedding kiss was a coming-home-from-war makeout session; They had an impressively choreographed wedding dance; The grand finale was Pasqual singing Bon Jovi with the band at the reception as if he were true blue Jerz.

Whether you're living on a square or living on a prayer, hold on! We just might be halfway there.

Pee, Myself and Why

I'm going to triple post to make up for lost time. If you're not into bathroom stories, skip the first paragraph.

Potty training was everything we expected. A) Challenging? Yes. I felt like I was chasing a chicken around our house. B) Unbelievably unfortunate timing? Yes. A cold day at the park when every building nearby is closed and I'm trying to convince him to pee on the ground behind a dumpster is not exactly smooth sailing. C) Wishing we could go back to the ease of diapers? Yes. D) Funny? Yes, but sometimes in unexpected ways. I never predicted that Noah would be fascinated with urine and poop. I still remember how excited he was with one of his first successful trips to drop the kids off at the pool: "Hey, it looks like a rocket ship and two little rocks!" He was very proud when he was finally tall enough to pee standing up, but he, of course, had to spray it everywhere. I didn't even know how to respond when he asked if he could touch the pee with his other hand as it made its way down towards the potty. By the time we came back from reunions last week, he had become almost completely independent in the bathroom. I'm proud of how he's grown and how we stuck with it. Now it's time for his pizza party celebration. E) Use rewards and bribes? Yes.

I'm glad that Noah has confidence and desires independence. It certainly helped with his potty training above, but I'm growing a little weary of "blah blah blah by mySELF!" The most memorable moment was at USC community day. Noah had never played mini golf before, but he knew Grandpa liked it and he watched us play a little bit on our Wii. He asked to try the hole-in-one for a prize, so we said sure. Mary stood behind him helping him hold the club when he demanded, "No, Mommy. I'll do it by mySELF!" He swung the putter and knocked it right in the hole to the shock and amazement of everyone watching. After crushing the ball into another section on his second try, he proceeded to sink another one to win two prizes. His incredible strokes of luck only enhanced his already overflowing confidence, which made it just a little bit harder to offer help the next time he was about to jump off of the neighbor's driveway wall. He still calls for Mommy when he lands the wrong way, though, so he hasn't completely lost the need for us yet.

If we hear "mySELF!" five or six times everyday, we probably hear "Why?" at least a dozen. Sometimes there's a dozen in one conversation: "Why do I want to wear a pullup?" "Because you might pee while you sleep tonight." "Why do I want to pee while I sleep?" "Maybe because you will sleep for a long time." "Why will I sleep for a long time?" "Maybe because you're tired." "Why am I tired?" "We had a long day." "Why did we have a long day?" Sometimes Mary and I don't even know how to end the conversation. The best strategy seems to be "I don't know Noah. Why do you think?" Our most surprising why question yet was probably when we gave in to his persistent requests for ice cream. When Mary handed him the bowl he asked, "Why did I want ice cream?" While Mary and I have almost stopped asking why questions since the answer tends to be "because he's 3 and he's Noah," he seems to just be gearing up.

All three important developments in Noah's life are signs that he's growing and, while challenging, his growth can be pretty entertaining. Before I was married and a dad, I was mostly focused on Me, Myself and I. Now Pee, Myself and Why has most of my attention, and I've never been more engaged.

Water for Thought

Last week I had the chance to attend the Social Entrepreneurship Forum after work. The short pitch by the founder of Epiphany justified the company name. With all of the frustration and uncertainty I've experienced this spring trying to figure out where/if I'll be attending law school this fall, I needed a reminder of why I'm making this new commitment. It was also a reminder of the great opportunities available here in Pittsburgh.

Epiphany Solar Water Systems has developed an innovative, revolutionary product that boils any source of water with a large, solar-powered magnifying glass. Through Project Eviive, they are developing a sustainable business strategy with one focused goal: deliver clean water systems to as many people around the world as possible and as fast as possible, people who are struggling from thirst and illness. Tom Joseph, his team, and many people at the forum are dedicated to, focused on, and passionate about providing long-term solutions for our world's most pressing problems in our least served communities.

This short break from work, parenting, applications, etc... was a refresher course on genuine motivation and the purpose of work. Three years from now I hope to be developing innovative strategies for our most challenging social, political, economic and technological issues, fueled by my Eviive-filled water bottle.

Frame her vs. Blame her

I'm not sure which bothered me more: the fact that Noah purposely placed his toy right next to Ari, who was laying on the floor at the time, or the fact that he chastised her and repossessed the toy from her slobbery grip. We've been dealing with new baby sister issues longer than we expected, but as down as we get during these episodes we certainly cherish the other moments of contrast.

Making Ari giggle is an addictive game: She bounces up an down, curls up her body, reveals her big dimples and shining eyes, sticks her hand in her mouth and squeaks and drools uncontrollably. Nobody elicits this response as powerfully and easily as Noah. Ari can't get enough of his games like suddenly appearing from behind a door, dancing around the room Risky Business style in his undies, singing loud gibberish, and the grandaddy of them all: his own intoxicating laugh.

Despite his intentional interruptions of her naps, his adamant protests when I hold Ari in my arms, his sometimes violent physical impulses, and his play-by-play announcing of every house rule she unknowingly violates, Noah is still Baby Ari's rock star, her protector and her crush.

As their relationship continually levels out and turns into Klaber vs. Klaber, I hope the competition between these two seemingly strong-willed siblings serves mostly uplifting ends and retains the laughter and adoration we now enjoy.

In Appropriation

In an attempt to keep direction consistent at his preschool and at home, we use the term they recommend: "inappropriate." If there is another child in the room, in this case his cousin Augusta, Noah has a strong tendency to immediately want to play with whatever that child is playing with. After being warned several times that it is inappropriate to take something before the other person is finished, Noah went in for the steal one final time. In response, Mary cut the visit with the grandparents short, and Noah protested adamantly, "I will act appwopwiately! I willll!"

If our school's objective is to make our kids sound so adorable that we can't stay mad at them, then they have succeeded. If their goal is to simply and clearly convey boundaries to our kids, then I'm still not quite sure if Noah gets this word. Since he is a master of appropriation, maybe I can explain the meaning of that word and how he should try to refrain from its practice. Or maybe a word like hurtful would have a better chance of eliciting empathy. Either way, the key is for Noah to consider another person's point of view. Otherwise we will continue playing a perpetual game of tug of war with his impulses and desires as he encounters boundaries by repeatedly bouncing around a dark room.

Appropriate is actually a vague, philosophical and subjective term that is less likely to convey the desired message than a specific and relevant warning. Recent advice that seems to have been effective: "If you touch that thorn, your finger might bleed." In this case the empathy is for his future self. Other instruction has been met with mixed results, often dependent on his current mood. We know that these concepts are not completely lost on Noah, but it is very frustrating to repeat what seem like obvious truths like "you can't kick your sister" or "you really should ask nicely." An additional complication is a disadvantage of specific advice and warnings. Children can take things literally, and circumstances are never exactly the same. Thus, you might need to repeatedly clarify limitations and try to predict all conflicts ahead of time, an issue that laws typically try to avoid by using vague terms like appropriate.

For the most part, we instinctively feel appropriateness. This makes it confusing for us to see our own child hurt a family member, an action which feels so obviously unkind. That's why, for me, it comes back to feelings. For Noah, it feels good to play with what he wants when he wants it, but whether it's because he doesn't want others to take things from him or because he's happy to see how much his cousin enjoys a toy or some other reason, he needs to feel good about not acting on the impulse for this change of behavior to last.

Going Vogue

"Daddy, turn on the blue light!" "Alright, Noah. Are you ready to strike a pose?" Noah spread his arms wide and puckered his lips. Then I flipped the switch on his fluorescent blue light to reveal his uncanny resemblance to Ben Stiller's Blue Steel. Our little Zoolander loves to be dramatic, and he has helped me revive my own inner ham.

Together, Noah and I have slow danced to High School Musical 3, led lively parades around the house, pretended to be monsters and robots by putting blankets and empty boxes on our heads, scolded stuffed animals for their inappropriate behavior, and sung our hearts out cause "We all need somebody to lee...ean on."

Although I wasn't exactly afraid to go vogue before Noah, fabulous was certainly not the adjective people would use to describe me. I'm sitting here writing this in my first ever pair of jeans that aren't gigantic, hiding the actual shape and size of my body. I think they're the only pair I've bought in the past 10 years. Noah, on the other hand, often looks handsome and stylish, thanks to Mary's inclination for fashion.

Considering his outgoing personality, showmanship, strong individual will, and utter exuberance, Noah will be turning heads wherever he goes. Throw in his forced smile that looks like he's being simultaneously attacked by a spotlight and a barrage of neck and chin tickles, and he's downright unforgettable.

Nobody knows how much his imaginative, unfettered charisma will affect me, but as long as he's conducting, I'll let my body move to the music. There's really nothing to it.

Breath Taking

When you hear me or Mary tell Noah, "Take a breath," you know that his emotions and/or body are totally out of control. The first time I made this request, I was mostly reminding myself to cool down before I dealt with our little guy whose will is inversely proportional to his undersized figure. Taking a breath together became routine, and he even began instinctively asking for a second deep breath.

This week, when there was still time left before dinner, Noah was eagerly awaiting his bath. I agreed to let him splash in the tub earlier than usual, but his excitement got the best of him. I was trying to start the water and undress him while holding Ari in my other hand, but his impulses took over. He turned the cold water handle all the way up over and over, despite my repeated explanations of why he probably wouldn't want to take a cold bath. I told Noah that he had one more chance to listen to me or he could forget his bath that night. I immediately took Ari to a safe place to put her down so I could focus on Noah, and by the time I returned he had TP'd our bathroom. Bursting from frustration, I called off the bath.

Following in the footsteps of his attorney ancestors, he protested, "I listened!" Technically I hadn't recently reminded him of the rule against playing with our toilet paper, but we had discussed this behavior many times before. After a period of wailing and convulsing, he walked down the stairs and ran to the kitchen. From a distance I heard him plead, "Mommy, I want to breathe with you." After a period of silence and a hug (my will power to deny Noah now being sucked out of my body with the exhale), he looked at Mary and asked, "Can I take a bath now?" Though he was clearly playing to his audience for his own benefit, it was still a sweet moment and a sign that our efforts to help him center himself were at least being recognized.

Whether his problems are complex or simple, lasting or fleeting, dire or trivial, I hope he continues to ask us to breathe with him for years to come. When it comes to my family, despite my asthma, I will never have shortness of breath.

Treading on Thin Vice

Mary and I finally joined a gym this week, now that we feel comfortable leaving Ari in a playroom for an hour. To be honest, I felt a little deceitful telling Noah about the cool place we were going and how he could play with other kids. Throughout my life I've gone through periods of overdoing things like tv, video games, food and other mostly tame vices. Exercise is my latest insatiable craving.

I got my first taste (in a long time) about two months ago when I started playing basketball on Sunday nights. Never in my life have sore muscles felt so good, and I think I'm actually going to miss the feeling once my body is in shape again. My skills were rusty, but I made up for it with some gutsy defense and creative play making.

I have had varied relationships with the gym over the years, even though the literal experience has changed very little. As a young teenager I was excited to develop pro wrestler-sized muscles, checking myself out in the mirror between each set. I soon became embarrassed in front of the varsity athletes as I failed to move up to the all-important 45 pounders. Then in college I always had a few other things I felt like I should be doing instead. When I finally had more free time than anyone can imagine, living with two roommates and working 9-5, the gym routine had become mundane, and I was only trying to maintain my level of fitness and strength. Thus, an excuse or distraction was easily rationalized.

Although the playroom at our gym certainly isn't Disney World, Noah made some friends, and he displayed a reasonable level of satisfaction with the situation. He thought my muscle-building activities were pretty cool, and he pointed out all of the machines that he was gonna try.

We try to keep our self-focused activities to a minimum, but both Mary and I would admit that our entire family is better off if we treat ourselves a little bit. Sometimes when I feel like I can't take any more of Noah's antics, his behavior probably wouldn't sound utterly horrible to an observer; however, our state of mind, fatigue and health can easily swing our reactions from slightly annoyed to infuriated. As we sneak in a few seemingly simple treats every week, we will continue to balance our desires and our energy, responding to our young children's needs.

Maybe it's the surefire predictability of the activity or the forgotten memory of dripping sweat or the chance to actually accomplish a goal that I set, but the once loathed activity of the treadmill has now become a steadfast gateway to new heights. Or maybe it's just the music blaring out of the hip hop dance class. Either way, "I've got a feeling..."

The Outsiders

After a long hiatus due to relentless snowstorms, Noah and I recently took one of our random walks around the neighborhood. It was good to catch up with our neighbor, Marge, who might as well change her last name to cookie, because that's always the next word out of Noah's mouth after Marge.

The whole experience of being an outsider was brand new to me when we moved to Lebo. Growing up, I didn't venture outside with other people unless there was a planned activity. In fact, I found walking the streets of my neighborhood so boring that my body would unconsciously start jogging to wherever I was going.

Although we didn't have much to show for it except a cookie and some wet shoes, the experience of taking a stroll around the block, chatting with a few neighbors, and hiding behind the bushes from Noah was exhilarating.

When I come home from work I secretly hope that I won't even get my feet through the door, that Noah will be pressed against the glass like a bull ready to charge the ring. For me, coming home is looking for the next dog to pet, stick to swing, Mini Cooper driving by, or just a random person so he can proclaim, "Hi, I'm Noah. We're going to the Hobby Shop!"

The past two years have brought new meaning to the phrase, "Let's take this outside." Compared to completely different phases of my life, sometimes I've accomplished the least but experienced the most being an outsider with my family.

Works in Progress

I recently came across an Economist article about progress, and it reminded me of a course I took at work on managing change; which, in my world, is typically measured by the floor/stomach food ratio or the average length of bedtime routine. Progress, or development, is a type of change so the close comparison is not surprising; however, the application of these concepts to the behavior of young children is interesting.

The science of change is laid out in this Time Magazine examination of the Obama strategy. If you really want people to change their behavior you need to: convince them that it's a good idea, make the change as easy as possible, utilize the power of peer influence, and provide compelling incentives (both positive and negative). What you're really looking for is the combination of the methods above that accomplish your goal with the least effort and/or the least intervention.


Your "calculation" may need to consider future goals and costs, though, since some of these strategies have diminishing returns. The power of incentives tends to decay over time. Originally, I could convince Noah to eat his dinner if I promised him a cookie. Now he might ask for two cookies, ice cream, to watch his favorite show or simply refuse.

Reason as the primary driver of change is the most desirable, because there's no material cost or lack of supply. This method may be more difficult, though, because of the audience. Mental-state reasoning is a major milestone in child development, when the child begins to understand that other people act on the basis of their own representations of reality rather than on the basis of reality itself. At 2 or 3, most children are still realists, which causes them to make assumptions that most adults wouldn't make. Young children also seem to have transient preferences and desires. I've pretty much stopped even trying the phrase, "You loved that yesterday." They focus less on the future and more on their current, concrete reality (unless they're currently imagining that they're a flying dinosaur hockey player). If it's not an emergency, explaining your point of view is usually worth at least some effort.

Considering extreme examples such as the power of automatic-enrollment 401(k) plans, ease of implementation seems obvious; except, some children prefer the exciting challenge of who can race to the mailbox and back to the changing pad faster over the simplicity of laying their body on the floor to allow their diaper to be changed. The latter can actually take longer and be more dangerous for the parent.

Aside from our beloved nonconformists, peer behavior and pressure can often provide the final nudge of desired behavior. Although the reliance on the wisdom of crowds seems to be a natural tendency with evolutionary benefits, our smaller friends are curious by nature as they try to understand their surroundings and test their boundaries. Anyone potty-training a child can tell you that the "Look, he's doing it." argument is not a reliable tool. We've talked to other parents, though, who said that their child finally wanted to lose the diapers because a friend had.

If you still have the desire to influence your child's behavior and augment their development, typical methods are not useless. They require an understanding of your audience and nuanced adjustments to a typical course of action, combined with a healthy dose of patience. As with adults, there are no magic formulas when it comes to predicting and influencing behavior. Sometimes we feel like we're looping through the same tracks, and our cd player is going to give out; but we continue to explain, involve, assist, cooperate, negotiate and, once in a while, manipulate or coerce. No matter how many tracks it takes, this is our passion: our works in progress.


In all honesty, we can benefit our kids just as much, if not more, by applying the same awareness and techniques to our own behavior. We can start by evaluating our core beliefs, principles and strongest desires. We can be aware of our own tendencies, and then we can develop by formulating a clear argument of why we should change, make it easy for ourselves to accomplish our goals, enlist the help of friends and family as well as noticing how they handle difficult situations, and we can even reward ourselves or make sacrifices in response to our own behavior. Our children can be very perceptive, and even if they don't know the fancy terms they will pick up on our progress.

I almost forgot one of the most important things: make sure you find the humor in it all.