The key in my situation is that Thing 3 has just learned to walk, so objects that used to be out of his reach, like the top of a garbage can, are now within his grasp.  He likes to open and close the cover.  Stick his hands in.  Take garbage out.  And, as I caught him in the act in this picture, he likes to put non-trash items into the garbage, so we search for hours for missing toys and cups.

The picnic table mystery was a little more difficult to guess, as there could be many more explanations.  Ed (zoesdad), JLow, and Kim had some creative answers.  Again, the key here is that Thing 3 is a new walker, which also means he is exploring everything and climbing.

Toddlers are like rats in an experiment that get a shock everytime they take a reward, but keep doing it anyway.  Thing 3 climbs to the top of the table, looking right at me and laughing his devilish laugh.  Then he falls off, cries, and once he calms down, he’s right back on the table.  Thus, my table on top of the table solution.

Here are two images of ordinary objects in our house.  One is a garbage can on top of the kitchen counter.  The other is a kid-sized picnic table on top of a porch table.

This is the way we keep these two items every day.  Can you guess why?

As I picked up the Things at daycare one day, I realized there are an awful lot of rules that I have to follow, too.

Rule #1: Bring snacks for the ride home.  Sure, it may not be the best idea before dinner, but it isn’t worth the price of crying and whining I’ll pay if I don’t have them.

Rule #2: Snacks must be the same, and that means the same size. God forbid Thing 1 or Thing 2 thinks they have the smaller snack.  If snacks are a sandwich bag of animal crackers, for example, the bags need to have the same number of crackers in them.

Rule #3: Go to Thing 1’s classroom before Thing 2’s.  I don’t know if it’s the break from the routine, or, more likely, that Thing 1 thinks he “wins” if he is first.  Failure to follow Rule #3 would most certainly result in another four year old meltdown.

Rule #4: There will be a fight to be first into the car. Not so much a rule as a statement of fact.  Thing 1 and 2 will push, claw, and grab each other to get into the car first.  Followed by the winner’s taunting of “I win”, to the loser’s crying.  Luckily I have something of value to hold over them to get them to quiet down (see Rule #1).

Rule #5: Daddy Eats Dinner Last. The kids eat first.  Then there are baths to be given.  Fights to be broken up.  Finally, after Thing 3 is down for the night, I can start to make my dinner.  Of course, as soon as Thing 1 and Thing 2 see it, they want some.  Which brings us to…

Rule #6: Always make more food than I can eat because I will end up giving most away.

I think I’d rather have the kids’ rules.

SuburbanDaddy: When you calm down, you can have it back.

It doesn’t matter what “it” is. Could be a toy, pillow, or piece of dirt.

Thing 2: Stop talking. Stop taaalkiiing [whining]

SuburbanDaddy: I can talk if I want. Why don’t you go to the family room?

Thing 2: But then I can’t hear you.

SuburbanDaddy: I thought that’s what you wanted?

[Begin 10 minute meltdown]

In Daniel Gilbert’s 2006 book “Stumbling on Happiness,” the Harvard professor of psychology looks at several studies and concludes that marital satisfaction decreases dramatically after the birth of the first child—and increases only when the last child has left home.

No group of parents—married, single, step or even empty nest—reported significantly greater emotional well-being than people who never had children. It’s such a counterintuitive finding because we have these cultural beliefs that children are the key to happiness and a healthy life, and they’re not

I’m not sure how to take these results. I suppose it’s up to the individual. Certainly, anyone who wants to have kids but can’t for whatever reason, won’t be very happy.

I can also see how people with kids are subjected to stresses - money, time, sleep - that the childless are not. If stress level is the measure of happiness, then kids aren’t going to help that measure.

To borrow from William Jefferson Clinton, it depends on what the meaning of the word happy is.

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After taking Thing 1 and Thing 2 to the pool in the morning, I thought we’d go by this new Burger King with the biggest, two story play place I’ve ever seen. After which, they would surely be wiped out and the rest of my Saturday would be easy.

This play place had 4 levels of tunnels, slides, and climbing. There was actually a sign that said maximum capacity was 215 people! Surely that can’t be right. The Things were loving it. They played for almost 30 minutes before deciding it was time to eat.

At one point, I heard Thing 2 crying three levels above me. The one bad (or good) feature of this place was that I couldn’t see them. All the kids were hidden in the tunnels, and you could only hear them and the dozen or so other kids. Thing 2 had gotten lost and couldn’t find his way out. I sent Thing 1 on a search mission to bring back his brother, and all was good.

They had their lunch. Chicken nuggets and chocolate milk. Then, back up into the stratosphere which was this play place.

There were only a few other groups in the play area at this time. One was a dad by himself with six kids. I don’t know if they were all his, but this man is my hero.

Now I heard Thing 1 crying. This time he was the one who was lost, and was in a panic. Not to worry, Thing 2 to the rescue. It was kind of funny, actually, to see the 3 year old bring back his older brother from the brink.

They made their way down to the entrance. Thing 2 first, with Thing 1 not far behind, still crying. The other dad was at the entrance with his youngest, a toddler.

The other dad was trying to comfort Thing 1. “You’re OK now”, he said. Then, the dad started yelling at Thing 1 to “Put it down! Don’t touch it!”

I still don’t know why I’m telling this story.

I saw Thing 1 holding something in his right hand. It was brown and cylindrical. Do I have to say more?

Thing 1 was now hysterical with everyone telling him to put the poop down. He dropped it where he stood, like Michael Corleone dropped the gun after shooting The Turk, and I whisked him off to the bathroom. What kind of a public play area has poop lying in it? How long had it been there? Why did my kid pick it up?

On the way to the bathroom, I discovered it was Thing 1’s poop. He either had to go potty, but was lost in the maze and couldn’t make it in time. Or, because he was lost and scared, he pooped in his pants. Whatever the reason, it had literally hit the fan.

I don’t know why I’m telling this story.

We emerged from the bathroom after about 10 minutes. I still had to go back to the play area to get their shoes. I thought about making a run for the car. To hell with the shoes. I can get new shoes.

I just did not want to face the other parents back in the play area. I was mortified. I’m pretty sure the other dad didn’t realize, at least at first, that it was Thing 1’s own poop in his hand.

We entered the play area room. There was a poor teenager, probably pulled from his usual job making fries, with plastic gloves on, “sanitizing” the play structure. It looked like the site of a toxic waste cleanup.

I looked nobody in the eye, put their shoes on as fast as I could, and left the premises. Fast.

Needless to say, this will be my last trip to a fast food play area. If this happened to me, I’m sure it’s not the first time there has been poop in a Burger King, McDonald’s, or other seemingly innocent place where preschoolers gather. Once you have this kind of information, there is no going back.

It’s actually surprising how well the video came out, considering I was holding the camera with one and and driving with the other. Don’t try this at home.

Happy Birthday Thing 3!

Today I wear a seat belt and use a bike helmet. It never would occur to my kids that people don’t do both of these, all the time. And that’s a good thing. But there are still non-believers out there, I guess.

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