I Hate Caillou

Okay, "hate" is a strong word. Let's just say Caillou bugs the heck out of me right now.

"Caillou" for those who don't know is a cartoon show about a four year-old kid on PBS. Here he is:

I think he's French-Canadian. I'm pretty sure he's Canadian, and with a name like "Caillou" I just assume he's got some French heritage in there.

Anyway, Caillou is the new favorite show for the girls, having recently supplanted "Sesame Street."

What annoys me most about Caillou is that the kid rarely throw a temper tantrum. And the kid always listens to his parents after they tell him something once.

An example:

Caillou: I want to play with my car!

Mommy: It's time for bed now Caillou. Why don't we put your car on your table, and it will be there when you wake up.

Caillou: Okay, Mommy!

In our house, this same scenario would play out this way:

Caroline: I want to play with my car!

Daddy: It's time for bed now Caroline. Why don't we put your car on your table, and it will be there when you wake up.

Caroline: No! I want my car! Go away, Daddy!

Now before one of you with no child or a degree in child behavioral development points out to me that the point of "Caillou" is to model correct behavior in children, let me say: I know, I know.

But it still doesn't mean I have to like the agreeable little you-know-what.

Tough Love Works . . . Sometimes

Just when you think you can't do anything right as a father and that your kids have totally gained control of the household, things like the last two nights happen.

The scene: I am putting Caroline to bed. Caroline gets in bed, but then plays with her book, plays with her stuffed animals, or sits up to look around the room.

Both nights, after about five minutes of this, I've looked at her with my most serious expression, and with my sternest voice I've said, "Enough. Caroline, lay down, go to sleep." I then kiss her and tell her one more time, "Good night. Time for bed."

Both nights, Caroline has rolled over and fallen asleep without a protest or a wimper.

I am, like, the best Dad ever.

(Or at least until tomorrow night when she keeps me up until midnight.)

We've Turned a Corner

A few weeks ago we took the girls to eat at our local mall.

As we sat down to eat our "Food Court" food, another couple with a single toddler about the same age as the girls sat down next to us.

The parents dutifully set out a booster chair which they had brought with them, along with a plastic bowl, plastic fork, and cloth bib. They then wiped down the table with antiseptic wipes.

Our girls looked over at the family of three with interest. They were eating with plastic forks you get with your food, out of paper plates we grabbed from the food line, on a table we had half-heartedly wiped down with a dry napkin. As the girls watched the little boy eat, their shirts were stained with teriyaki sauce since they weren't wearing a bib.

I think we've overcome our phobia of keeping our girls "super clean". We've turned a corner as parents -- good or bad, we've turned a corner!