Everything I needed to know about kids, I learned from taking care of drunks in college

I learned a lot of things in my five years of college: how my body reacts to seven cups of coffee after being awake for two days straight, how to write five pages of semi coherent babble and still sound like I had actually read the book and how to look like I knew what I was doing while playing pool (I think I also took some English classes). But as I became a parent I realized I also learned a lot about raising children. Not from any early childhood development classes; I learned a lot by taking care of drunks.

I didn’t drink while in college (I got all my drinking out of the way in high school like a good American). Because  I was sober, I was always the designated driver, or because we usually partied at friends’ houses, I was everyone’s mom, taking care of puking twentysomethings. Oh, it was a good time: holding people up so they could empty their stomachs into the toilet or breaking up fights  — alcohol makes parties so much “fun.” And when I wasn’t doing that, I was bouncing concerts. Not that I’m a big, tough guy: I’m just a big guy. My job was to stand by the front door of the club, be bigger than everyone else and be on the lookout for the police. This was another job where I got to deal with drunks, although I didn’t know many of them so it was much easier to just shove them out the door if they were going to blow chunks or start a fight.

So I had five years’ experience with drunks and now I’ve had more than six years’ experience with kids, and I can tell you there are many similarities between the two.

Although belligerent, they are easy to please: A drunk friend will yell all night until he gets a bottle of beer; a baby will cry all night until he gets a bottle of milk. Basically if you can just get them what they want quickly, a drunk or a baby will be very happy and will show you great affection for your trouble; the baby will snuggle with you and the drunk will say, “I love you, man!” right before he passes out in the bath tub. One difference: your baby will rarely wake up in the middle of the night and demand you take him to the convenience store to get a microwaved barbecue pork sandwich.

Their violence is easy to avoid: As toddlers grow up, they start to establish their independence and many times that means they will lash out at their parents. Hitting, biting and scratching are common, as are screaming, temper tantrums and even literally shaking with rage. This is a phase all kids go through, and, if handled with compassion and patience, one that will pass with time. Plus, if they do hit you, they’re tiny, and it really doesn’t hurt. Drunks do the same things but that’s because they’re ignorant drunks. They can be handled with violence but mostly just talking to them will calm them down, and you might even get a drunken, smelly hug out of it. Plus, they have terrible aim and you can easily sidestep their wild, roundhouse punches.

Oh, the smells you will smell: Babies stink … bad. People who go on and on about “new baby smell” don’t hang around long enough to really sniff the horrors that can come out of a child. No matter what end of the baby you are talking about, smelly things come flying out of babies on a daily basis. And then there are the things related to babies that smell: highly fragranced baby wipes, plastic toys impregnated with fake fruit scents and the dreaded milk bottle found under the front seat of the car after a week in the August sun. But I was ready for this because of my college days dealing with drinking adults. Drunks just reek of alcohol and puke (which is bad enough) but in this case there is a difference in how you deal with them: Children you clean up and put into new clothes and lovingly hold them if they’re feeling under the weather; with drunks, you help them through the actual puking part so they don’t die then you put them to bed fully clothed and let them deal with their own mess in the morning.

I’m sure I learned other things about dealing with kids in college but, as with most things I learned in college, it was the good (and bad) times spent with friends that have stuck with me and now seem the most important.

Originally published on stltoday.com

Want to stop a child in his tracks? Use the Dad Voice

In the Great Parent/Child War, fathers are given very few weapons (Moms have all kinds of weapons and go into battle ready for anything … at least they seem to). We are thrown into battle with our bundles of joy with little or no knowledge, few real skills and an overpowering fear our every move will result in permanent damage to the child. We think we know what we’re doing but no matter how many little siblings we had or kids we’ve babysat, we are still naked and alone against the great forces of babyhood. Luckily for us dads out there, the weapon we do have is a powerful one; one kids all over the world are powerless against: the Dad Voice.

The Dad Voice is something only fathers have. Mothers don’t have it and even nonfather men can’t seem to get the right inflection to pull off the Dad Voice, a perfect combination of righteous rage and incredulity that tells children immediately they have been caught doing something they shouldn’t be. It doesn’t have to be a shout — it works better when it is said in a voice that is just a little louder than your normal speaking voice — but it can make a kid change his behavior faster than screaming at him all day long could ever do.

I can still remember the first time I used the voice. Big Bits, our now 6-year-old, was just 18 months or so and we were sitting on the couch after cleaning the living room. I left for the kitchen to get a celebratory snack and when I came back a moment later he had climbed off the couch and was digging into his box of wooden blocks, throwing them over his shoulder one at a time and making a giant mess. I stopped at the couch and couldn’t believe my eyes: there was my Little Buddy wrecking our just cleaned room. “What are you doing?!” I said in a voice that made me jump a little and made my poor child spring up, turn around and start crying, wooden block still in hand. I felt so bad I picked him up and we snuggled on the couch for a bit before we went back to work cleaning up his mess.

This voice works on all kids, not just your own. Our middle child goes to a cooperative preschool where I’m the teacher helper once a month. Mostly this involves herding the kids around the preschool and providing the snack for the day. I also help police the children during gym and one day I spied a child going to every kid in the class and pushing them down. Without thinking about it, I invoked the Dad Voice, and he stopped in mid push and spun his head around so fast I thought he might have whiplash. We locked eyes from across the gym and, without another word,  he knew exactly what he had done wrong and stopped. He also gave me a wide berth for the rest of the day.

And the “kids” don’t have to be young either. Or even see you. A friend and I went to the movies this winter to see the latest sci-fi/action epic (quick review: meh). As the theater filled, several teenagers took seats in the very front and started talking loudly. I didn’t care as the only thing on the screen was commercials but as the film started they only got louder. Out came my Dad Voice, a bit louder than I would use with my own boys, but these kids were older and needed more “intense” help to correct their behavior. One “SHUT UP!” was all it took to get the kids to settle down and enjoy the film like they were real human beings. My friend congratulated me on my Dad Voice, and the people next to us even shook my hand after the movie was over. To be fair, the people who shook my hand were  —  how do I put this gently? — “weirdos” but it was nice to see others appreciated my Dad Voice as well.

The Dad Voice: Don’t leave home without it. And it’s best to have it at home as well.

Originally published on stltoday.com