The fury of a 4 year old

If this blog is supposed to be about adventures in parenting (among other topics) I should try to write about dad stuff once in a while. The delightful trouble is that things are pretty even keel right now. Other than flapping my arms and crowing proudly about the little dude’s massive brainpower (starting to honest-to-goodness read!), we’ve been just keepin’ on.

There was one noticeable exception, though. A few weeks ago, during a particularly rough bedtime, my exhausted son threw a tantrum.  That’s the standard term for his behaviour – I’d say it would be more accurate to say that he lost his ever-loving mind. Not just pouty, or weepy or angry, but a full-blown loss of all restraint. Shrieking at the top of his lungs and hammering on my chest with his tiny fists.

This wasn’t the first tantrum that he’s had –  I took the brunt of what I think was his first one months ago, when he woke up a half-hour after bedtime and freaked the f*$k out. And with his history of occasional night terrors as an infant, that first tantrum was somewhat understandable. It still pushed me all the way past calm and controlled,though I managed to somehow resolve the situation. I actually pried his eyelids open during the tantrum, and that calmed him down. I think he was still kind of asleep. Sleep rage, I guess? Even after he was back asleep, I was left with immense guilt and shame for having lost my own composure and for getting angry at him for shrieking at me.

This time, he was fully awake when he launched into his tirade. I am glad to say that I had learned from the first time, and I found a place of serene compassion and calm that I hunkered down in. I was ready to gently talk to him and hug him until his cognitive process regained control of his body. My dear wife actually came in and interceded, because she didn’t want him treating me that way. It was a kind of strange dynamic, and I admit that his angry, spiteful words were pretty hurtful. But under the calm but stern guidance of my dear wife, we came together as a family and calmed down to resolve the situation.

Afterwards, it was a strange sight to see his pride fighting with his remorse as he struggled to apologize to me. He was embarrassed by his actions and he really didn’t have the ego to spare for a hearty apology. A mumbled “sorry” without making eye contact was the best he could manage. But, when I came downstairs the next morning, he made a point of looking over at me and saying “I’m sorry dad”. And that was probably one of the best apologies I’ve ever received, because it was entirely unprompted and heartfelt. He had thought about what had happened, and he felt bad.

Staring into that unthinking and defiant tantrum reminded me of the angry beast inside every one of us. It’s not that we lose the urge to throw all the rules aside and assert or will upon the things around us with violence and spite: we just learn to control it. I know that there are times that I just want to punch walls, kick over tables, and scream at the world for not obeying my commands, and I think that’s common to all of us. We live in a universe that doesn’t really care about fulfilling our desires, and that is immensely frustrating to a species that is so self-important. So, in staring down the lad’s tantrum and finding a peaceful way to deal with it, I’m also re-enforcing my own coping mechanisms, putting new chains on the rage beast.

In defense of Partisans

Our ongoing national dialogue about state of Canadian politics is touching on some very necessary topics, like the ones covered in this article.  I’ve seen this article shared on Facebook and Twitter several times, and I’m glad that it’s being talked about. There’s one clarification I’d like to make to everyone who uses the word ‘partisan’ as a label for the people responsible for our current political morass: ‘partisan’ isn’t a dirty word.

Maybe it’s just the language geek in me, but I can’t accept an automatic negative connotation to ‘partisan’. It simply means “a supporter of a person, party, group, or cause”.  You could easily substitute the word ‘fan’ for ‘partisan’ and it would work just as well.  And just like a room full of Leaf fans, there will be a wide range of personalities within any partisan crowd. Some will be blindly partisan, committed to the cause no matter what the team does or how badly it abuses the rules of the game. But there will be a large number of thoughtful, respectful fans there too. Those fans will cheer when the team plays hard and clean, but they’ll make their disappointment known when the team starts to play dirty.

And that cuts to the heart of the problem we’re facing in the current political climate: not enough respect for the rules of the game.  Good sportsmanship demands that you care about how you win, not just winning itself. A victory made possible by exploiting the rules isn’t much of a victory at all, and it certainly doesn’t reflect the dignity and seriousness that government requires. It’s the job of the partisan to police their own team, and make sure that the leaders they support are acting in a way that they can be proud of. We don’t need leaders who are “shamelessly political”, we need leaders who avoid doing shameful things.

Message Control

To tweet or not to tweet, that is the question for city council. Recently, the few twitter-friendly Councillors have sent out messages of disapproval while in council meetings, and one or two of the messages have been less than polite. The target of those rude tweets complain that the short messages are insulting, and they distract from council business. The argument over tweeting came to a boil yesterday when there was a rumour that the mayor wanted to ban tweeting by Councillors during meetings. The rumour has been mostly disarmed, turned from a ban to a request for civility and appropriate language, but there are a couple of valid questions that still need to be looked at.

First, and most important, is Twitter (and any other social media) a valid method of communication between our elected officials and the citizens they represent? I’d argue that these new forms of communication are logical extensions of an elected officials obligation to make their decisions and opinions accountable to the people. They supplement the traditional letter-writing or phone-calling that any constituent can do to reach out and ask “why did you vote that way?”. Instead of waiting for days to find out the rationale behind a decision, you can get a brief explanation as the situation unfolds. If our goal is to involve people as actively as possible in the governance of their city (and I really hope it is our communal goal) then having real-time insight into the decisions being made on our behalf moves us in the right direction. I’m not advocating for each and every Councillor to keep an eye on Twitter and respond to every question thrown at them, but they should be encouraged to keep the lines of communication open.

And of course, what kind of rules should apply to Councillor tweets? That’s a simple matter of etiquette. Any message sent while you do city business is done as an elected official, and has to hold to a level of decorum and politeness. Insulting or crude language should be off-limits for any official communication, and that extends to social media. If your Facebook account has the word “Councillor” in front of your name, then anything you post could be construed as coming from a Councillor’s office, so post appropriately.

The other part of decorum is making sure that you pay attention to the speaker and the proceedings.each Councillor needs to make sure that their tweeting isn’t a distraction from your duties. Then again, it sometimes looks like a couple of Councillors are trying to squeeze in a power nap during meeting time, so the bar for attentiveness is relatively low.

I can’t make it to City Hall to watch the marathon meetings with any regularity, but I am able to follow along by checking in on twitter. The dedicated observers in the gallery, along with the members of the press, do a great job tweeting their take on what they’re seeing, but the Councillor tweets make my virtual experience an engaging one.

On an unrelated note: I’ve received a lot of positive responses about the blog in the last week or so, including a generous donation from one reader. I’m grateful and humbled to have engaged and enthusiastic readers, and I hope that I can keep the conversation interesting and relevant to all of you. Thank you so much for reading, and to my benefactor, thank you for your kind generosity.