I don’t know about you, but I’m a huge believer in routine. Routine helps keep things on track, lowers stress, enables punctuality and completion of tasks, prepares the children of the family for adulthood (and protects the adults from a nervous breakdown).

But. It can be a great thing to break that routine, in the sense of doing something out of the ordinary. Like the times I played Pumpkin Rugby and Zombie Tag with the boys. The time Youngest Son and I went to an audition together. The time I took the boys for an hour’s drive to another beach (we live at the beach) where I knew there was a tidal stream we could dam with logs and such, put up with their complaining at the length of the drive and their requests to turn around, and partook of their joy at damming that stream when we finally got there.

It’s an effort to break routine. And it doesn’t always pay off. But the potential is there for the unexpected, the memorable, the “bonding-moments” to happen.

How could you do something out of the ordinary with the kids over the next week? For me, I’m planning to take Oldest Son out for icecream on Sunday. The best conversations seem to happen out of the house and over food (well sugar anyway)…

Worth perservering until the end of this one.

Is it just me or is Western society arranged so as to make it awkward for Dads to be involved in their kids lives (beyond watching them play football or playing x-box with them)?

I get suspicious looks when I’m watching over my kids in the swimming pool or at the playground or skatepark. I get sideways glances from all the Mums when I come onto school ground to pick up kids after school. (I’d like to think they’re checkin’ me out. I’d rather not believe that I actually look like a predator!)

Over the last few days, I’ve been busy trying to organise the latest batch of playdates for my boys, it being the second week of their Spring school holidays here in Australia. Again, I’m amazed at the coldness I receive when I call a school Mum about my boy playing with her boy. [No my boy is well-liked, so it's not that]

Admittedly, it’s a form of cold-calling; the phone rings out of the blue and there’s this deep (cultured ) voice  on the other end asking if Johnny can come over to play.

But the Mums (and Dads) that know me are only too happy to meet up at the park or let me take their kid to the movies with mine. Even today, a Mum I’ve only known for this year since Youngest Son moved to her son’s school - she let me take her son to the pool for a few hours. That’s an enormous amount of trust she invested in me and weirdly, I feel privileged that she did.

But usually all I’m doing is asking if Johnny can come to a movie, or meet us at a park for a couple of hours, or to a party…

Anyway, I’m rambling away from my point. My point is the coldness (and knockbacks) I receive when I call, compared to the warmth my wife receives on the odd occasion she does it. In our house I’m Master of the Offspring Social Calendar, but increasingly I’m asking her to make the call for this reason.

It shouldn’t be that way.

The thing that really got up my nose today (and I know it’s petty, but … hey … I’m petty) was receiving a list of contact details for other kids in Youngest Son’s class, which instead of having a column for “Parents’” had one for “Mums“. Is this what Loose Associations calls ‘acceptable prejudice’?

Or should I build a bridge and get over it?

You be the Judge. (And I’ll continue to think what I like and be annoyed by this. :) )

The witty catchphrase above is a response I used for a time with Oldest Son when (for two years in a row) he would hang around me chanting that favourite mantra of children everywhere:

“I’m bored, I’m bored, I’m boring, it’s so boring.

I’m bored, I’m bored, I’m bored, it’s so boring.”

I was listening to the latest production of the Daddy Dialogs and a comment of Roland’s reminded me of this time in my life. The Bored Mantra would get particularly bad during Summer Holidays.

Now I know I wrote about this only 10 months ago. And many of you have already responded there with how you combat what I called the Boring Song in that post (basically the same as the Boring Mantra, but a even more annoying). What Roland reminded me of was one of the strategies I used to good effect during one Summer holiday when Oldest Son was 6 or 7.

Basically, I made a list of activities, had he and his little bro add a few ideas, then stuck it on the fridge. Each time I’d hear the chanting begin, he (Big Brother) would have the choice of going to his room for an hour OR choosing something from the list. Yes, there was resistance. Yes, it didn’t always end the grumbling instantly. But it worked and it did put the respsonsibility back on him.

For new readers, I’m always interested in boredom busters as well as strategies to help kids stop pestering parents when they could be using their brains and bodies more appropriately…

Well, I started compiling these over a year ago. And finally we make it to the end of our Australian Dictionary. Any Aussies out there, feel free to add in the comments [but, keep it clean, 'ey, cobber?]

X
XXXX : pronounced Four X, brand of beer made in Queensland

Y
Yabby : inland freshwater crayfish found in Australia (very good eatin’!)
Yakka : work (noun)
Yewy : u-turn in traffic (”chuck a yewy at the next traffic lights”)
Yobbo : an uncouth person

Z
Dazza [this is about the strange Aussie inclination to put "Z" sounds in as many words as we can. Dazza is a name given to someone whose actual name is either Darren or Daryl. Over here, Sharon would be known as Shazza, Barry as Bazza ... etc.]

***

Hope you’ve enjoyed this thread of posts. Now for non-Auzzies out there, some of the language from me and my Ocker friends  will be more understandable! To read the post where it all began, go to A is for Aussie…

Often enough, it can be hard to get kids into bed (can I hear an AMEN?). Then at other end of the day sometimes hard to get them out of it. Especially for school.

With Eldest Son, the rare occasions where he is reticient to get up and at ’em for a school day, the tactic is logic. Logic and empathy:

“I know you’re tired mate. You’ve had a busy week. But you’ve got forty minutes to get ready and we have to go.”

… well, it’s not logic really; more like this is your reality, live in it.

Youngest Son? - sheesh!! The above approach doesn’t work. Neither does true logic which would be something like “It’s a school day, you go to school on a school day, you have to get up and get ready to go to school, so you’ll be getting up now.” Neither do consequences: “Get up now or I’m cutting back your allowance!” ["Go for it," he'll think. "It's worth the extra sleep"]

The key with him is to get him talking. This requires more effort and creativity than Eldest Son (by a mile) but it works.

If I can ask him about a funny thing that might have happened yesterday, or ask him if Freddy will be at school today, or ask him who he hopes will win the football match this coming Saturday, or mention that I had a wierd dream and tell him about it … eventually, I’ll get boo out of him. The cognitive cogs begin turning and I can almost see those cogs raising the shutters, powering up the lights, engaging the gears that make his limbs move him out of the bed.

What works for you? And what doesn’t?