Laying upside-down on the piano bench, my six-year-old son made the most startling discovery: Our family was expecting… baby birdies!
Sure enough, a mourning dove had hid her nest above the columns on our front porch. As if under a spotlight, her nest appeared only because we all stopped to take a look at the world more like a child — upside-down.
It wasn’t long before the two eggs hatched, and the baby birds discovered their wings. We watched as Mommy Mourning Dove lovingly foraged for and fed her birdies. All of us were fascinated over the equal role of the Daddy Dove as he, too, came home to do his part.
Kids don’t come with instruction manuals. And for weekend-only parents, the rules of parenting can be even more difficult to figure out. Time with your kids is limited, so it’s easy to fall into the “Disney Dad” trap, showering them with gifts and over-the-top experiences to make up for lost time. Divorced dad Keith Harrington shares his do’s and don’t-do’s for weekend-only parents. These rules apply to week-long parents, too!
Grandmas and killer whales are like guinea pigs and gerbils. You can say one and mean the other, and it really doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, both guinea pigs and gerbils are rodents who eat hay. You see, like a good grandma, female killer whales are mammals who become leaders late in life.
Long after menopause, grandmas (insert killer whales here) share their wisdom and experience with younger family members, playing a key role in helping the young find food — especially when Mommy is on a date night!
One mom tired of waking up tired makes a plan to wake up happy – happy to be a mom.
ou have a color-coded calendar, and it’s awesome – until you use the wrong color assigned to one of your kids.
You show up to your son’s soccer game proud your family is 30 minutes early only to find out you’re three hours late. Sorry, coach, I looked at the wrong soccer schedule. “Pile back in, kids!”
You have your own cleat exchange program.
You show up to the school community meeting and greet the principal with your kids only to have him tell you there is no community meeting. You try to sound smart and say, “Ok, well, we’ll just go look at the chickens over here then.”
You love chickens because you buy 18-count cartons of eggs.
You go to the park and get asked, “Are these all yours?” And you don’t even have all your kids.
You don’t have to set an alarm because you wake up every day to four consecutive alarms that can’t be snoozed at 6, 6:01, 6:02 and 6:03 am.
You use a tumbling mat to block the stairs instead of a baby gate.
When Keith Harrington goes to his daughter’s school, he gets a lesson on how BOTH parents in a divorce can be involved in a child’s education. And everybody wins.
By Keith Harrington
It was the role of a lifetime… one not to be taken lightly.
I was to portray one of the most iconic names in literary history. I honestly had been researching the character for years. It seemed that all of that studying and reading was about to pay off. Despite the character’s larger-than-life status, I was ready to conquer and, hopefully, entertain a large and possibly unforgiving audience. I would like to say that my dressing room was the size of a janitor’s closet, but that would be inaccurate. It actually was a janitor’s closet.
I made a big mistake when I left my career. Putting my career on pause wasn’t my mistake – far from it. The mistake I made was thinking everyone would champion my choice to stay at home while my children were young.
I remember one of the first times I revealed my plans to leave CNN to another working mom.
“We’ll see how long that lasts?” she chortled, “I give it six months.”
I played along and smiled back, giving her the knowing look of a mom who’d rather put on a pantsuit than change a poopy diaper. But deep down, I hurt. Her six-month deadline rattled my confidence, reminding me of my first maternity leave and the pressure I felt to return to work and act as if nothing had happened.
Keith Harrington loves a good laugh, always has. Now he’s learning to pass on his laugh on to his children – even after a divorce. As Keith says, once a dad, always a dad. Discover how Keith keeps a Mommipop state of mind for the “greater good” of his children.
Q: What gives you a Mommipop state of mind (joy in parenting)?
Hearing my kids laugh and be silly. Learning their little quirks. Making them pancakes and bacon. Hearing my daughter recite Red Sox players’ numbers and hearing my son tell jokes.
Q: Describe your parenting style in three words.
Firm but fun
Q: What’s the best parenting advice you ever received?
‘The key to parenting is don’t overthink it. Because overthinking leads to … what were we talking about?’ – Homer Simpson
Q: What’s your favorite memory of your parents?
Going to Disney World as a family and the random funny stories that happened there. Like the time we had a camcorder and were filming ourselves eating breakfast. As we were all saying “hi” to the camera, some woman at another table asked if we wanted her leftover muffin. I have no idea why we all thought that was funny, but it still makes me laugh.
It was the last day of Spring Break, and my boys’ dreaded requests for screens were starting to rear their ugly heads. The cold weather was keeping us in, but Mama Bear was determined not to give in (even if I needed to do eight loads of laundry and organize a school volunteer list all before the day’s end). “No, boys, I stand by my first NO.”
They asked with more bravado. I played deaf. They said they’d be willing to do chores to earn it. Hmmm, tempting. Nope, I reminded them of our family’s 30-minute iPad limit on the weekends. I was a bullhead, “No means no.”
“But mom, we want to create music on Garage Band!” Ever so clever, they used the key word that Mom likes, create.
How could I say no to creating beautiful music? Oh NO, I can’t back down now! That’s parenting 101: Never change a “no” to a “yes” or forever suffer the manipulations of children trying to turn your “no” into a “yes.” That’s how I got here, anyway, right?
But I did it, AGAIN.