Ignoring is Bliss

If I were a superhero (I say it as if it isn’t the case) I would call myself Zone-man, because I have a superhuman ability to get in a zone and disregard all chaos happening around me. This is a particularly useful skill when you live in a small apartment with two talkative and opinionated kids. The secret to my zoning out and ignoring skills is that I am an eternal optimist. That’s right, I am an optimist. I find my personal thought bubbles producing such brilliant ideas like… “maybe if I just sit here and ignore the screaming, the problem might resolve itself.” Bruises heal, hair grows back, carpet stains fade (I think), plastic surgery can fix scars, and maybe it is not as bad as it sounds. When things get too chaotic in the house (and they do sometimes), I have found that ignoring the problem comes natural and works well for Zone-man, but in general it has an adverse effects on the other citizens of Small-Apartment-City. In order to protect the people Zone-man feels called to ignore, he must replace the Z on his chest and the Zzzz’s in his thought-bubble with a big A, and spring into ACTION.

You see, the problem with the optimistic thought of “it will resolve itself” is that it flies in the face of basic familial laws of physics. The Second Law of Child-dynamics states: that two children left to themselves will always move from order to chaos unless energy is put into the equation. My two kids will often go from peaceful play to chaos and fighting all by themselves, without any help from me. But I have yet to see them make it from chaos-land, or the State of Fighting to Peaceful Play Country without me driving them. The other day, my kids were playing a game in their room nicely. It was so refreshing to hear them laughing and having a good time together. Being friends with your siblings is a great thing. Then, while they were happy, I went in and split them up. They looked at me with a surprised look and asked “why?” I told them, it is only a matter of time before this system of order breaks down, and I’m guessing one of you winning the game could be the spark that lights that fire of disintegration. So, let's end on a good note, as friends who have a memory of enjoying playing together. Ultimately I let them talk me into continuing playing together until they started fighting, which did happen, and I remember thinking, maybe those are happy sounds? They were not, and Zone-man was up and off to save the day. History has taught us this, fathers, if you play your fiddle while Rome is burning, historians and wives will not have a favorable opinion of you.

Advice: “Don’t fiddle while Rome is Burning.”