Touchdown!

Ahh... to witness a thing of beauty.  To have a moment outside of my familial hurricane to observe and admire another parent in action.  We are all not so different, you know.  Families share a common pulse, no matter who we are.  I'm just usually sidetracked stalking and shushing and "evil eying" my children in public, to keep them from knocking over the elderly or licking the buffet food, to fully recognize any other humans around me.

So, what stopped me mid-sentence, slack-jawed, in some much needed adult conversation?  The breeze of a  two-year-old stumbling forward in manic escape, and father, in what seemed to be theater-quality slow motion, gaining on the child with pure, concentrated determination.  A dad "in the zone."  He was fed up and  ready to dance, my friends.  The visual was enriched by the 3-month-old baby girl cradled in arm, wide-eyed and oblivious to the hawk-like swoop of her father, zeroing in on "the kill." 

Turning to his wife, delightfully unshackled for the moment, I said, "Don't move."  But, she knew to hang back.  He had it under control, and the only way to assuredly derail disciplinary progress was for mother to get involved.

There is an unspoken game between parents.  I have seen it, and I have participated in it.  Participation is, basically, all inclusive, because very few parents are clamoring to attend to their children.  Simply put, we are all playing the "waiting game."  The game begins when the nurse rolls swaddled baby to bedside.  Eventually, the sleeping bundle tightens and squirms and with furrowed face begins to cry.  You both glance through the plexiglass bassinet and pull your eyes to one another.  Who wants to take charge of that?

At first, the wait is brief, the slightest hesitation.  You quickly assume responsibility of the infant.  Of course...baby needs you.  No problem.  You've got it.

Fast forward a few sleepless nights and some good, old-fashioned colic, and maybe your response time increases a bit.  Eventually, the waiting game is perfected with a variety of techniques.  You have come to understand that making eye contact with your partner has proven to unwittingly weaken your strategy.  No eye contact is imperative to maintaining control. It must be believed that you can't hear the cry.  What cry?  Oh!....was baby girl crying?  I didn't even hear her! 

In the darkness of night, eye contact isn't nearly as important as keeping very, very still.  Breathing patterns must stay soft and slow....and you wait.  You wait through each chilling wail hoping against hope that the faker next to you will assume consciousness and rescue the poor baby left to call someone's bluff.  Who's it gonna be?  Okay, moms, I know which way the scale usually tips.   I can't tell you how many times I throw back the covers in a dramatic display, so IF he isn't awake....he is now.

Far be it from me to take sides, but....I think moms probably cave more quickly.  Or, dad's are just really adept at the game.  They seem to develop their strategies quickly and effectively.  I can't beat my husband at basketball or Boggle, so why should this surprise me?

Sometimes, though....sometimes dads don't play the game.  Sometimes they are all-hands-on-deck, and isn't it a thing to behold?  My husband is the best when they are sick.  He's not a germaphobe like me, spraying the kids with Lysol before they can burn with fever in my lap.  Kids respond differently when dad disciplines.  He has a no-nonsense way that they can't plead and debate as easily as they might with mom.  Most importantly, he knows how to mediate the ever-escalating hormone-induced debates occurring more often between myself and my almost-12-year-old daughter.  When he steps in, he shuts us both down to cool off and gain some much needed perspective.  He has better instincts for reading a situation without paranoia and operating out of a sense of priority and not guilt.

Discipline is not pretty.  It has never "hurt me more than it hurts them," but it does challenge me to follow through on a course that I may not feel like traveling.  Kids are stubborn and unpredictable and have very little to lose, in all actuality.  We stand to lose a great deal in our quest for victory:  time, patience, dignity, confidence, energy, completion of whatever had been in motion at the time of dissension.

For those of us not alone in this, we must take a moment to appreciate the partnership, the backup, the support, the love.

So the next time a dad is "in the zone," sit back, and enjoy watching him score, what is most assuredly, a touchdown for his entire family.