Following on the heels of a great guest post from Timothy Dean Roth Wednesday, I’ve invited another guest to post at Words on the Word, this time for Family Friday: my four-year-old son. Here is his review of a book he particularly enjoys, Alpha Oops! The Day Z Went First. I’ve typed it up, but the words are all his.
A always goes first, but Z wants to go, and Z and Zebra are sick of the “last in line stuff.” W sits on a whale spout. Z has a zebra jumping. “O is for owl,” “N is for night,” and everyone else thinks it’s not H’s turn, but it really is… right? (Yeah.) He goes right where he goes, because that’s just how the alphabet goes.
I like that Z goes first. A goes last and the alphabet goes backwards. B is “bouncing on… a brisk breeze.”
I didn’t like “D is for dragon and damsel in distress,” because she might get hurt. (I don’t really want to get hurt.)
Our new neighbors would like this book. We could give it to someone else, and then tell everyone in the world to give it to someone else, after they read it.
Alpha Oops! is available at Amazon, or, I’m sure, at your local library.
My blogging friend Dave (who also has a daughter Junia) just blogged about pornography as a gateway drug.
He writes:
Porn is not an isolated evil. It is connected to the growth of sex trafficking in our world. One thing we talk about often at meetings of Freedom and Restoration for Everyone Enslaved is that if men did not buy women, there would be no forced prostitution. Yet along with that, men do not just wake up one day and decide to buy a woman. Porn is a factor for it teaches men that women are objects to be used for his enjoyment. Like any other addiction, eventually a stronger dose is needed and stronger doses are more and more available in the form of women and girls forced into prostitution.
Friend and fellow blogger Jennifer has posted some great ideas for how to talk to your kids about sex. (I was asking a similar question here after my four-year-old unexpectedly asked me how did I “fertilize the egg.”)
She says:
Use correct words to identify body parts and functions. While talking about your son’s ding-dong or your daughter’s who-ha may seem cute when they are babies, it does little to help them understand what these parts are or what they do. It adds an unnecessary element of mystery and is confusing.
NPR’s All Things Considered played a story yesterday called, “When Hyphen Boy Meets Hyphen Girl, Names Pile Up.” It’s Family Friday at Words on the Word, and in my family we all roll with the hyphenated last name (K-J). My wife was K, I was J, she wanted to be K-J, invited me to do the same (with no pressure), and I agreed. So we and our three kids are all K-J.
But we’ve often asked, what happens when they get married? What will they do with their last names? And what if they meet someone else with a hyphenated last name?
It doesn’t offer much by way of answers to my questions above, but at least our children will not be alone.
Why did my wife and I opt for K-J? For me, it’s simple: joining our two last names together with the hyphen seemed a perfect “outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace,” namely, what Jesus teaches–“the two will become one flesh” (Mark 10:8).
How do you talk to a four and a half-year-old about sex?
Before I had kids, I would have said… you don’t.
But then my four-year-old son started asking about whence his younger brother (and now a younger sister) came.
My wife, good science student that she is, opted for the straight-up biological explanation: There is an egg, it gets fertilized, baby grows inside mommy, baby comes out.
That held him for a little while. But then today, this conversation ensued:
4.5-year-old son: Daddy, how did you fertilize the egg?
Me (stammering): Uh… egg?
He: Yeah, how did you fertilize mommy’s egg?
Me: Well, there’s just a special way that mommy and daddy show love to each other that makes that happen.
He: Can I watch?
Me: No, it’s private.
He: Then can I watch from the wall?
That’s as far as I’m willing to go in explaining sex to a kid that young… on the one hand, I want him to hear it from me before he hears heaven-knows-what descriptions from his peers when he starts going to school all day. On the other hand, I’m not sure he’d be able to handle all the details (or that it’s appropriate to share them at this point). I can see him sharing his newfound knowledge with someone else at an inopportune time.
So parenting pros (or even parenting novices)… how do you talk to your kids about sex? How much do you say and when?
In the last month I’ve had at least five close friends ask me why I’m blogging so much (or at all). Two of those friends have since started their own blogs (here and here, both highly recommended!)
Shortly after the blog’s formal launch, we had our third child (Junia!). I work full-time as worship director at a fantastic Christian college. I am taking two seminary classes. All at the same time. So how and why am I blogging?
The how part is easy: although it is work to keep a blog going, I enjoy it. You know those 4 hours a day that North Americans supposedly spend watching TV? I spend half of them blogging (and the other half with family). It’s what I do in my free time.
But why? And why now?
First, it’s a creative outlet for me. I enjoy it and it feels good to express myself and share that with others. I am receiving so much input (learning through seminary, through my job, through parenting) that I thought it was time to more deliberately contribute some output to the world.
Second, with the blog I am able to request and receive free review copies of books from various publishers. This is a win-win for everyone: free publicity for the publisher/author, and a free book for me. You get to read the review! This is also a good way for me to stay current on what’s being published in the world of Biblical studies. Hence, Magnificent Monograph Mondays.
Third, and perhaps most important, in some sense this blog is my way of holding on to my identity–particularly the part of me that is so interested in Biblical studies. With all else that is going on, especially the birth of our third child, I see potential for my identity to be overrun by other things. (If you have children, “overrun” will make perfect sense to you.) I don’t want that to happen.
Of course I will give sacrificially to my family, and three children under the age of five don’t really give me the choice–e.g., “DAD!!! MY BROTHER IS BUGGING ME!!!!!” Or just, “WWWWAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!” (That’s Junia.) But even as the needs of the children can be all-consuming at times, I find myself saying subconsciously (and now consciously) as I blog, I… will… not… be… consumed! I need to have some “me” left over at the end. The blog is that, in a lot of ways, for me.
(Can any other parents relate to this?)
Finally, blogging is a good way for me to test the waters with writing. I know writing is not exactly the most lucrative business in the world, but they do say the best way to get better is just to practice. I want to see how the whole writing thing might work out for me (beyond what I’ve already had published), and the blog is a small step towards that.
If you’re thinking about blogging, I recommend it! Just make sure you’ve changed all the diapers that need to be changed before you start writing.
Honest Toddler (which I’ve blogged about perhaps toomuch already) has a Twitter that I just found out about. Much more frequent than the blog posts, and just as funny. Check it out here, in celebration of Family Friday!
Remember that essay, “I Want a Wife”? Read it here. Judy Brady (Syfers) first read this essay to a San Francisco crowd in 1970 (story here). It begins like this:
Not too long ago a male friend of mine appeared on the scene fresh from a recent divorce. He had one child, who is, of course, with his ex-wife. He is looking for another wife. As I thought about him while I was ironing one evening, it suddenly occurred to me that I, too, would like to have a wife.
She goes on to say she wants a “wife” who will clean, not complain about it, and work her through school while also supporting the children and managing the household. The satirical essay was meant to be an indictment of restrictive and unrealistic gender expectations placed on women.
In many ways I have it easy as a man. Because of who I am, I am the beneficiary of white privilege and male privilege–among others, living in this country as I do. I can’t help this, so I simply hope I use such “privileges” for good. (If talk of white/male privilege doesn’t make sense to you, consider reading this article about the pay gap between men and women.)
I also think I have it easy compared to my wife. She’s been through three (count ’em) C-sections, two of which were preceded by much labor, and does all manner of things to make life work for all of us. She’s also playing point right now on middle-of-the-night baby meet-ups, and for that I’m grateful. I’ll never begin to understand the pain of childbirth. So I make that disclaimer upfront.
That said… I want a subcontracting co-father. I don’t quite “need a wife” (or, in my case, “need a husband,” which didn’t quite fit right for me). But just a little help around the house with some of my ongoing (and often unfinished) projects would be nice. Here are a few jobs that I’d contract out to anyone interested:
Poop and pee. Yesterday I changed poopy diapers on two children, and in the evening singlehandedly moved a couch out of the living room and onto the porch because our potty-trained child had peed all over it in the middle of the night (My bad–we were out of pull-ups. Also, sweetie, sorry if blogs still exist and you’re reading as a teenager.)
Air conditioner. We got two new air conditioners recently, and then one of the units pooped out on us (speaking of poop) a day later. I don’t need the subcontracting co-father to help with the return–I already boxed up the darned thing and sent it back to Amazon. I just need someone to whom I can farm out the task of opening, assembling, and installing the new replacement unit that came, and putting it in my son’s window… again.
Poop and pee, green edition. Ha. Poop is sometimes green when it comes from children, but that’s not what I mean. I wrote a couple weeks ago about cloth diapering. We’ve actually put cloth diapering on hold for the two-year-old, since that much laundry is impossible for us to do right now in the wake of a newborn coming to our house. But we want to go back to cloth.
Nighttime book reading (second shift only). I love reading to my children. It’s one of my great joys as a father. But I often fall asleep about 10 minutes in. (Okay, 3.) I just need someone to jump in and pick up the slack from time to time. Your cue is when I get punched on the shoulder and you hear, “Daddy, wake up!”
Manage car stress. We’ve had both cars in the shop the last month, and the day on which we have to make both an airport drop-off and airport pick-up, bothcars are in the shop at the same time. I have all the records, and my mechanic’s name is George. Just make sure you’re in front of Google when he calls to tell you what’s wrong with the car, so you at least sound like you know what you’re talking about.
Take out the trash. Obviously. Warning: there’s poop in it.
Other duties as prescribed (by the children).
The pay is meager, but the fringe benefits are… incomparable. It’s a good thing my father is coming in to town this week.
Words on the Word 