Understanding Children

I am not sure I will ever understand children. It's like trying to solve a Rubik's Cube, at least for me. I have seen many videos on You Tube where someone opens a brand new Rubik's cube, from the package and solves it in like 31 seconds. Yes....still a virgin. Not that sex is important. Just saying.

My son was looking for his coat this morning, whining like a leaky bike tire. He has started adding "uh" at the end of all of his complaints. "I CAN'T FIND IT-UH!" I watch him walk by the thing three times. Monkeys use tools better than him. For example, in order to illuminate things in a dark room, one would flip on a light switch. Not him. He has problem solving skills like passive transport mechanisms. Without a gradient, nothing would happen. The only reason his body goes supine is because gravity does most of the work. I love him, but....well, I love him.

My 6-year old daughter started 1st grade in the public school system. I like public school mostly because any social policing that needs to happen will happen in school....usually. For example, her behavior at home, bossing her brother around because she is older, wiser and a hair taller is instantly negated by a peer-to-be at recess....or not to be, which is the ultimate question. My daughter has the personality to befriend just about anyone....except her sibling. This is normal behavior, mind you, but sometimes, as opposed to separating the two, I just like to listen to the verbal banter that goes back and forth. Peyton saying that Jacob is using her toothbrush and Jacob insisting that his toothbrush is NOT the one with soccer, football and basketballs on it, rather it is the Princess toothbrush. They fight over a stool that allows them closer proximity to the sink, both of which cannot seem to accurately spit their toothpaste into it. It seems every Sunday, I am constantly scraping dried toothpaste off of the bathroom counter.

The sleeping habits of children baffle me. I am not sure if it is just in general, or if it is just my kids that make my balls shrink. My son went to sleep, I mean BED last night around 7:00. About 8:00 pm, I hear this knocking on the wall. I was sure the noise was coming from downstairs as our neighbors will often have a Royal Rumble around that time. My wife got up to go check and to her wondering eyes, my son had a laundry basket laid over the top of his body and he was rocking it back and forth, knocking it against the wall. She removed the basket because, well, who in their right mind wants to have this basket interfere with REM sleep? Apparently my son, who protested its removal by stating "I need that to sleep!" Its like needing with 1812 Overture blaring at 100 decibels so that you can drift off to LALA land. I don't get it.

As I finished studying and went to shut things down, I felt a cold breeze coming up our stairwell. I looked down and noticed that our front door was wide open. I have a bulldog. I hadn't seen our bulldog most of the night. I didn't even check to see if he was inside, mostly because him leaving would mean he would have to jump down from the bed and walk down 17 stairs and then....go out where it is cold. All of these behaviors are atypical for any bulldog to actually want to do on their own. Anyone who owns a bulldog knows that given the choice between moving and remaining stationary, 99% of bulldogs would rather remain prone and motionless. Kind of like Courtney Love during her methadone treatments. I tried to recall when the last time someone came in the front door. It was about 6PM when I told our kids to come in for dinner, 7 hours ago. I am not sure what I am more ashamed of. Them just simply leaving the door open, or me for having my face buried in a book, highlighter in hand, trying to highlight every line of my Anatomy and Physiology book.

I will go with the latter. I still don't understand them. It's like trying to understand why Peyton cries at the notion she has to go to bed without being able to watch a movie. Sometimes she cries just to cry. You ask her why she is crying and, while crying, she answers "I DON'T KNOWWWWWWWWWWWW," which sets my son off because, well, if his sister can get away with it, so can he. The dog just looks at the chaos, eyes half open, surely thinking, can you all keep it down, I am doing my best to conserve energy. If the country's power was based on the activity of a bulldog, let's just say it would be back to the pioneer days. Boiled water over a cast iron stove....dirt floors, and lots of knitting.

Time for class...