The Secret to Enjoying Your Cheese Coneys with Kids in Tow

After doing this for three years and two kids now, I think there is one area where I have parenting down pat:

The dreaded dinner out.

No, I don’t have the perfect make up for the either sorrowful or angry stares you receive when your 3-year-old daughter melts down because just the tiniest sliver of ketchup touched her cottage cheese or when your 18-month-old son throws a fit because he wants to hold his own cup and doesn’t like your parental attempts to save the restaurant from flooding.

But I am a fast eater. I mean really fast. And if there is anything I have learned as a parent of toddlers, it is that you have a very short window when eating out. You basically need to plan your get-away while being seated and ask for the check as soon as your food reaches the table. Otherwise, you are playing with fire. And I mean fire of the worst kind: a complete melt-down-by-a-3-year-old fire.

I used to be one of those single guys who ate out by himself, quietly reading the paper in between trips to the buffet bar. I hated when my Frisch’s fish sandwich was interrupted by the temper tantrum of a 2-year-old. I looked on in disdain at the parents who couldn’t keep their kids under control in a public place.

No more.

I now know that there is no controlling the emotions of a toddler. The littlest things set them off and getting them back on course is more difficult than moving Disneyland to Ohio.

Threaten to take them to the car? Three things are going to happen. First, they are going to escalate and get louder at the thought of losing the privilege of eating out. So your situation actually worsens. Two, all eyes will be on you when you carry a kicking and screaming toddler from the restaurant. Embarrassing. Three, you are going to miss your dinner.

Those who know me know I don't like missing dinner.

Threaten punishment at home? As “soon as we get out of here, I’m going to…” Good luck. They will have long forgotten the incident and punishment will be a moot point. You can’t learn if you don’t remember why you are being punished. Children have the attention span of a gnat.

The best thing you can do is prevention. Get out of there before a melt-down happens.

I am one of the fastest eaters you will ever meet. When I was a kid, we were poor. Hot dogs were a regular meal. Hot dogs come in packs of eight. There were five members of our family. I can guarantee my dad was getting a second dog. The other two were up for grabs to the fastest eaters.

I learned young.

So when it comes to restaurants, my wife and I have a game plan. We sit down and immediately ask for the kids’ food. That gets delivered first and we hope it holds their attention. When our food comes, we immediately ask for the check. We sometimes have to explain our “short window” to the server, but most of the time they get it. They either have their own kids, or they are thankful we are willing to get out of there before the floor under our table is covered with Splenda packets.

Then I do my thing. I eat like Hannibal Lector at the county morgue. My fork flies fast and furious. Just about the time the kids are starting to get antsy, I am cleaning the last bit of Skyline chili off my plate.

Then, it is wait-and-see time.

If we all get to stay at the table until the wife is finished, that is a bonus. We just enjoyed a nice family dinner. But if one of the kids is on the verge of a Tasmanian Devil impersonation, I am free to swoop them up and run for the car as fast as possible, leaving my lovely bride – and our fellow diners -- the luxury of a peaceful meal.

Voilà! There you have the Gregg secret to eating out.

Parents-to-be, take heed. Start practicing now. Study the menu for the shortest cooking times. Learn what goes down smoothly and what will take time to eat. (This is no time for crab legs, for Heaven’s sake!) Know what restaurants have the best items of distraction, or bring them with you. (We have even been known to bring the iPad.)

You heard it here first. Bon Appétit!  

Let's Make Some Money from our Walking Billboards

Did you ever notice how young kids become walking billboards for corny sayings?

Tyson must have 13 shirts that say things like “Daddy’s Little Rock Star” or “Santa’s Little Helper” or “Ass, Gas or Grass…no one rides for free.”

I see these kinds of shirts on kids all the time. You get a bunch of babies together for a play date and it is like going to a family reunion in West Virginia or Kentucky – everyone has a shirt with a stupid saying.

How did this start? Parents who would never wear shirts that say “Crack Kills” right above their butt cracks have no problem dressing little Jimmy in a shirt that says “FBI” in big letters and “Female Body Inspector”  in little letters or “Don’t Make me Violate My Parole.”

I stopped wearing such shirts in college, or shortly thereafter. I think I had one of those Salty Dog t-shirts from a Spring Break trip that said something stupid, or maybe it was a Dick’s Last Resort t-shirt that said “Chicks Love Dicks” in big letters followed by a microscopic “Last Resort.”

Now, when I see someone dressed in something like that, I’m looking around for the trailer park.

Am I wrong on this? Have I gone Park Avenue? Have I forgotten my roots?

Once, when I was a kid, and Olivia Newton John was doing her thing in sweatsuits and headbands, I wore a shirt that just said “ANIMAL.” I liked it because she sang a song that went, “Let’s Get Physical, Physical…I Want to Get Animal, Let’s Get Into Animal,” and I was a 14-year-old kid who wanted to get ANIMAL with anything of the female persuasion.

I remember adults looking at my shirt with puzzlement and asking me what it meant. I really didn’t have a good answer. Most likely, BECAUSE I WAS A 14-YEAR-OLD IDIOT.

Now, I am the adult. And it is my kid who is wearing shirts that say “I’m not as Think as you Drunk I am.”

Ok, maybe not that.

But then I got to thinking. What if we turned this trend into something positive? Babies are cute. People love to look at them. If you walk into a restaurant with a baby, you can bet nearly everyone will look at that little bundle of joy as you walk from the door to the table.

So, instead of wearing a shirt that says “Daddy’s Football Star,” what if we put him in a shirt that said “I Like Gerber” or ‘I Buy My Carrots and Peas at Kroger.” Would Gerber or Kroger be willing to rent space on my kid?

You see the possibilities, right? If your kid has great muscle tone, he could wear a Gold’s Gym shirt. If he is a little portly, a Skyline Chili shirt might be a little more appropriate. If she has crystal blue eyes, maybe a shirt that advertises colored contact lenses. If it is a great hair day, a shirt for the local beauty salon.

Suddenly, I am making money off my kid. I like that idea. How can I get this movement started?

In the meantime, I’ll try to find some shirts that match my family more closely. Sydney  can get a “Fart Now Loading” shirt with a Internet loading status bar below it. Tyson can have a “Shit Happens” shirt and Brooke can get the classic ‘I’m with Stupid” shirt.

Hell, maybe I even will get an “I Beat Anorexia” shirt.

Control Freak and Daddy Not a Good Mix

I used to hate kids.

Well, I hated unruly kids. Ok, I actually hated the parents of unruly kids.

Now, I have sympathy for them.

In my previous life, it would not be unusual for me to visit a Skyline Chili by myself. I’d hunker in with my USA Today sports page and my five-way chili and look to lose myself for a half hour. Then, just as I was about to bite into that tasty cheesy-chili concoction, some kid would start wailing. Or start running around the restaurant. Or just be annoying in general.

This scenario played out in many ways in many places. It could be the seat next to me on an airplane. It could be the line at the post office. It could be the movie theater. It could even be my own house when some relative or friend brought their kids over.

One time, I was on vacation with a good buddy and his family. We went to a seafood restaurant and his 2-year-old proceeded to take every butter packet out of the big dish on the table and throw it under the table. One by freaking one. His parents acted like nothing was happening. I was incredulous.

As a former know-it-all, I would get extremely frustrated with the annoying behavior and blame the parent.

Shame on me.

Last night, I took my daughter out for her 1-year birthday. She loves macaroni and cheese and a nearby restaurant, the Keystone Grill, happens to specialize in that. We thought it would be nice for her.

She spent the first part of dinner opening the menu, paging through it and then throwing it down on the ground. Again and again.

She spent the rest of dinner eating macaroni and cheese with her fingers and dropping the majority of it on the ground. She was a cheesy mess when it was all said and done. Then, she topped dinner off by throwing her sippy cup on the ground. Over and over.

My wife and I basically ignored her behavior. We picked the cup up over and over. We picked the menu up over and over. Eventually we would take them away. Occasionally, we would say “No.” Sometimes, we tried to divert her attention to something else.

I’m sure people thought we were bad parents. What they didn’t realize is it could have been much worse. Take the cup or menu away, try to feed her with a spoon when all she wants to do is shove a fistful of macaroni in her mouth – these types of actions could lead to a crying meltdown.

The truth is, I have become immune to some of the bad actions of my 1-year-old. I overlook things as to not make them worse. 

One thing that I am starting to grasp is that kids of a young age do not have the ability to determine right or wrong and cannot be taught to be responsible for their actions. This is hard for a control freak lie me, but I am giving into this notion.

You ever try to reason with a 1-year-old? Sydney gets this look of consternation on her face like, “Dad, why are you talking to me in this tone?” Then she goes right about doing what she was doing in the first place.

She doesn’t understand sticking her face under water in the bathtub can kill her, how is she going to understand that throwing her sippy cup in the floor is a no-no?

Trying to "teach" her only makes it worse.

Dad: “Sydney, I am taking this sippy cup away because you keep throwing it on the ground.”

Sydney: "Huh? I'm 1. I have no idea what the words coming out of your mouth mean."

Tears. Wailing. Until she gets the sippy cup back. Then quiet, except for the occasional throwing of it.

So, as parents, we make a choice. I don’t mind bending over to pick up a sippy cup every now and then, I guess.   

Sydney is starting to get whiny. Especially for her mother.

Sidenote: Yeah, this hurts. Mom leaves the room, daughter cries. Dad tries to play with her, read to her, watch television with her, Sydney cries. Mom comes back into the room, Sydney quits crying. Dad realizes he is nothing but chopped liver and starts crying himself. End of sidenote.

So, when Sydney starts whining for her mom or crying for no really good reason, my inclination is to stop her annoying behavior. My attempts range from reasoning (Sydney, this is not how we act in this family. You can’t get what you want by crying.) to stating my case (Sydney, your mom is not the only person in the world. I am a good guy. Give me a chance!) to yelling (STOP CRYING! ARRGGGHHH!) to giving a soft tap on the butt to get her attention and telling her "NO!"

Sydney’s reaction to these various methods of control range from continuing the bad behavior, to increasing the bad behavior to laughing at me for thinking my soft tap on her behind would mean anything to her.

You can imagine how this plays with me. Especially in public. As I have said before, I do not like to be embarrassed and have all eyes on me. When Sydney gets going, I get flabbergasted and that makes the situation worse.

More than once, my wife has had to come to my rescue. She picks Sydney up and pulls her away as I sit wondering what the hell I am doing wrong as a parent.

Being a control freak and a dad to a toddler do not really mesh. One of my friends pointed out to me the other day that her teen-age son does not always, shall we say, do the right thing. Some of those screw ups have involved the police. She said this used to frustrate and mortify her because she felt it was her fault and a reflection of her as a parent. She would immediately dive in to help and get control of the situation so she would not look bad to her peers.

Now, she realizes he has his own personality quirks that have nothing to do with her parenting. He is not a clone of her, but his own individual. And, he can solve his own problems.

By the way, she has an older daughter who has rarely ever given her trouble. Don’t we all know families where one child is an angel and the other is devilish? You can’t have been a good parent to one and a bad parent to the other, right? So it really is more about the personality of the child as opposed to you as a parent.

Take it a GIANT step forward. Some kids grow up to be great successes in life, career, love, etc., but they have brothers or sisters who are criminals or drug addicts or unemployed or thrice divorced. Raised in the same environment, but drastically different. Nature wins over nurture.

Anyway, my friend got me thinking that the same logic applies to my 1-year-old. My daughter’s whininess, or even a public fit, are not indicative of my parenting. I do not have to be a control freak and immediately jump in and fix the situation.

At least that is what I am telling myself these days.  

This is not an excuse, mind you. This is a philosophy until Sydney gets old enough to truly know right from wrong and can understand consequences, punishment, etc. I don’t know what age that starts, but that is when the idea of discipline starts.

My brother, Little Dick, does a really good job with his 5-year-old. I’ve seen him in a restaurant and when the kid gets whiny, they go to the rest room to talk it out. He also effectively uses “time out.” The kid is well-behaved.   

Another friend of mine gets creative with the punishment. He has a young boy who likes to play video games. He becomes these “characters” in the video games. You can actually purchase the characters in real life; they are little toys. When the boy misbehaves, dad takes away a character and his son can never be that character again in the video game. That really sucks for a 4 year old.

That’s just a tool he uses. This guy has the best behaved young boys I have ever met. When he talks, they listen. It probably doesn’t hurt that he was a chopper pilot in Afghanistan for several years. When you are dealing with the chaos of WAR, a couple of unruly kids is nothing.

Other parents I know have kids who are old enough to know better who behave terribly. Those parents – well, they suck and I still hate them. They are giving us all a bad name.

But to those of you I maligned when you had your babies or 2 year olds or even 3 year olds at Skyline or on the airplane or in line at the post office, I have two words:

I’m sorry.