Animal house

I had a moment last week, between diapers and dishes, to sit leisurely and gaze out the back window, pondering the big picture of life. As I watched the boys and the dog chase each other tirelessly around the yard, it hit me that there are some aspects of raising kids that can be compared to nothing better than that of training animals.

It’s a given that with kids, especially when they are small, it often feels like we’re living in a zoo, talking to the animals, or attempting to “train” mindless creatures to perform culturally acceptable tricks. Let’s be honest, sometimes it’s just simply a circus. From standing on their heads in the middle of the kitchen to practicing their tightrope walking on the back of the couch, sometimes a mom just prays for a top hat and an elephant whip to appear out of thin air.

It seems there is all kinds of help out there these days. For horses we have the Horse Whisperer, for dogs, the Dog Whisperer. I think a Kid Whisperer sounds like an oxymoron, but I bet some of those talks they have with the animals would probably work on my children.

Brisco is a prime example of a child who is harder to train than a dog. Inevitably at bath time, I spend the entire time telling Brisco to “Sit!” He simply refuses to stay seated. So I squat there on my knees, wishing I had a pocket full of dog treats to give him if he should decide to obey. I’ve got a dog who can sit with just a hand signal. I could do the Macarena and my kid would still be standing there in the tub, just trying to find a way to fall and bust his head wide open.

I house trained my dog in a week. Our oldest kid was three years old and still pooping in the floor before he finally decided potties weren’t so bad. Now we’ve got a two and a half year old to convince.

I’ve seen people who dress their dogs in clothes. Heck, I’m ashamed to admit it, but before we had kids, I was guilty of putting Halloween costumes on our labs one year. But deep inside, I knew that my two, 80 pound Labradors would have rather been snipped than to face another canine in their bumble bee antennas and lady bug capes.

Evidently my youngest child feels quite the same about the garments I choose for him to wear, although it doesn’t take a humiliating insect costume to cause this boy to shed his gear. One day last week I told him to stand at the front door and watch for Daddy to come home. When I went to check on him, he was out in the front yard, naked from the waist down, singing, “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home! I’m thinking his nickname should have been Free Willy.

I went to the ball field to pick the boys up on Sunday afternoon. I guess they needed a spot to cool off in, much like our dogs do in the heat of the summer when they dig in the dirt until they hit moist ground. They boys were shirtless and covered from head to toe with thick clods of mud-and splatters of mud-and mud they’d sucked right off their thumbs. I brought them home and pulled out the garden hose, much like I would do to their four-legged sister after a nice romp in the flowerbed. All I needed was a dog brush and a rawhide bone to shine up their coats and freshen their breath after a long hard day in the dirt.

It seems the similarities between kids and animals are endless. Maybe it’s because kids really are animals until we as parents tame them and train them to be the sweet little angels God created them to be. I’m hoping we start to see progress soon.

One thing’s for sure, much like the love of a good pet, there’s nothing better than a couple of little boys who like their ears tickled, their bellies rubbed, and give wet slobbery kisses. Even if they are a couple of animals.

And that’s All in a day’s work!