Under Siege: The Battle of No

Or… My New Two Least Favorite Letters.

Note from the Editor: I’ve been lazy this week… But clearly the Dad’s have been on the ball. My friend and new neighbor, Dave, shares below a bit about his least favorite letters… N. O. Happy weekend my friends! xo- Kel

I’ve been trying to find the funny in all of this. To find the things that will make you not look at this posting as though you’re witnessing a guy venting about things that seem unworthy of venting about. I’ve had plenty to vent about over the last couple months…and saying that out loud like this, I feel ridiculous myself.


I’m a very lucky guy. This is true. I have a wonderful wife and 3 beautiful, smart, healthy little girls, each with a crazier, almost sardonic, wit than the last. They’re sweet, sassy and exhibit great understanding of sarcasm for a 5 year old and twin 2 year olds. These are things I find wonderful about my girls. They’re constantly changing, though, and new facets of their personalities come to light at some of the most unexpected of times. With all that we’ve been up to, the events in our lives of late, the twins have found it the right time, for them, to embrace a new, more rigid approach to demanding things. Exhibited by their increasing reliance on the word “No” It’s as if they found themselves realizing that “No” can actually be their pat answer to EVERYTHING that is asked of them. It made this last summer much more challenging in new and interesting ways, but seems to have become their policy in the last few weeks…right in the middle of our move The funny part in this, is that they even answer “No” to things they want…and for a few moments before they realize that they’ve answered wrongly, it’s being able to see them back-pedal, and try to convince me that the “No” was in error, and that they want it…”Yes, yes…”


Beyond the “Battle of the No’s”, It’s been quite a busy couple of months. We’ve spent the last 5 months house hunting, and dragging our three little girls fussing and complaining (and giggling) through the whole process with us. They’ve, to a point, even been able to voice their opinions about the houses we’ve seen along this path to a new home. Mostly, their opinions were laced with lots of saying “No”, of course. I’ve felt a great deal of sympathy toward our real estate agent for putting up with all the drama that these 3 little girls bring along, as if they’re pulling little wagons filled with crazy behind them, everywhere we go. The screaming and the running around like little sugar-propelled crazies through these empty and, sometimes very much, lived-in houses, I’m certain I’ve beaten my personal best for the number of times apologizing for their craziness. They grew to be much better and considerate of the places we were seeing as we went along. Finally, after looking at dozens of homes, we found the perfect house! Two offers, two counter-offers, more negotiating and suspicion that the seller’s agent wasn’t excited about selling the place to us and consequently tried to delay the process even more, we managed to close on our new digs. Not a single “No” from the girls though. They loved the place right from the get go… The girls have good taste.


Back before our daughters came along, moving seemed inconvenient and cumbersome, but a relatively easy process. When there are kids in the picture, however, we’ve learned, that the move goes from being a simple thing to an infinitely more complex exercise in logistics, strategic car swapping, sleep-management and sanity-maintenance. We’re now closing out a week and a half of packing our belongings into a loading truck, driving the massive moving truck to the new place, unloading, sorting, unpacking and organizing is now complete, now for the fine tuning…


{NOTE: it was at this point, as I was writing this last night, sitting on the couch in our dimly lit new living room…that I passed out. Laptop, on my lap… Fingers on the keyboard. I don’t remember much of the moment, but it seems I looked up for a moment too long to watch a scene from “Tron: Legacy” –this is no indication of the quality of that movie, by the way – on the television…then…blackness.  I woke up around 2:30 AM, laptop still on my lap, still whirring… Posting still not complete. Saved the file. Closed the laptop. Fell back asleep.}


…Waking up in our new place is a wonderful feeling. The girls wake up with the sun (which sounds nice, BUT…) and this place just fills up with sunlight and the sound of little girls doing what little girls do each morning. In this case, this morning, little girls apparently come and wake their Daddy, who passed out on the couch last night, by slapping him on the face and exhorting “Wake up, Dada….Wake UP!”  SLAP!


“Leave Daddy alone for a bit, baby. I’m tired…it’s…what?…(looks at watch)…it’s 5:37.”


Followed quickly, in unison, with a…“No!”






  1. Cass says:

    Off to google “sardonic”.

    1. Jacque says:

      Oh the years of ‘No’! Why is that such a popular word for little ones?! :)