You Know You’ve Made It as a Parent When…

Have you ever sat and wondered, 'How am I doing as a parent?' 'Am I doing a good enough job?' 'Will these kids grow up to be amazing, wonderful, contributing members of society?'

Much like it's hard to tell what an artist is painting until the work of art is complete, your children are your work of art. You won't really see the full picture of who they are and what they've become until they've grown up. The key is to make sure that you, as the artist, are using the right materials to create your masterpiece.

A lot a parents are afraid to discipline their children, but that's a color that needs to be in the mix. As painful as it may be to brush it on, it adds a lot of depth to the final product. Not to mention that you can offset the hard, sometimes sad lessons with other 'colors' on the palette. There should be brush strokes of love, guidance, comfort, compassion, and my favorite, laughter.

I had to bring my three kids to work with me last week, and I asked them if they were going to be good for me while we were there. Ben and Hayli right after one another, "Yes!" and "Yes!" as Parker, my five-year-old, rounded out their collective response with "We'll see what we can do." I just shook my head and thought, "Yeah, there kids are mine alright!"

Last night as my wife and I were heading up to bed, I closed up the house as she walked upstairs. I kissed my kids on their foreheads as they slept... or at least tried to make me think so. My oldest, Ben, thinks he is the greatest fake sleeper in the world, when in fact he's probably one of the worst. Since he was up, I mean sleeping, I saved his kiss for last.

I bent down, kissed his forehead, said "Good night, God bless." and turned to walk away. Before I left the room, I ripped one of the loudest farts I had launched in a month or so. "Dammit, Izzie!", I whispered loudly as I left him to cook in the stink left in my wake. As I walked upstairs I could hear him giggling to himself, blowing his cover.

This morning, I asked him how he slept and if he had any trouble getting to sleep. He said, 'Nope! Not at all, I slept like a baby!' I asked him, "You didn't hear Izzie fart?" He said, "That was you.... uh, nope! Didn't hear a thing!" I said, "You little twerp! I heard you laughing!" His epic response was, "I was sleep-laughing, Dada!" Yeah, this kid's gonna grow up to be just fine!