Month: June 2014

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The Magically Entertaining Wooden Spoon and Other “Toys”

Seven months.

Luv's diapers

What interesting “toys” does your baby get to play with?

By now it’s nearly cliché to point out the irony in a kid getting more enjoyment out of the cardboard box that a toy is packaged in rather than the actual toy itself. So I won’t. But similarly, I will point out a few other seemingly mundane household items that currently serve as Jack’s greatest form of entertainment.

baby and air vent

His biggest fascination is with air vents; whether or not air is actually coming out of them.  I suppose that to him, he gets a thrill out of the anxiety of wondering at which exact moment the cold air will suddenly begin blowing on his face and through his hair.  Jack hovers over and around the air vent like it’s some magical wishing well, about to grant him his wish of an instant set of teeth in which he could use to eat veggie pizza with his parents.  Or at least a masculine unicorn to ride on.

The Dadabase

But for the times that Jack prefers a more hands-on experience, there is the amazing wooden spoon!  Thanks to my wife’s creative thinking, Jack now has a wondrous multipurpose toy that can be used for the following:

1) Jack can use to the handle to repeatedly ram his leg, while joyously smiling.

2) Jack can use the head of the spoon to repeatedly hit himself in the forehead, again, while joyously smiling.

3) Jack can pretend the wooden spoon is a Popsicle, tasting its delicious wooden flavor.

4) Jack can practice his self-invented stunt of attempting to crawl while carrying the spoon in one hand.

5) Jack can wave the wooden spoon around in the air like he’s conducting a choir of enchanted kittens.

crawling baby

Should Jack ever tire of the wooden spoon, there is always the back-up plan.  Yes, the paper towel roll.  While Jack can basically use it in the same ways he uses the spoon, he can additionally become mesmerized by watching me put the paper towel roll to my mouth to make weird falsetto humming noises through it; like a giant kazoo.  It works similar to the way Indian men charm snakes.

I am a certified baby charmer.

And fortunately, Jack is like a cat in that he can entertain himself with nearly any random household object.  The question is, who is more entertained by the magical wooden spoon and its other glorious counterparts?  My infant son for finding entertainment value in it,  or me for finding entertainment value in watching him find entertainment value in it?

The Dadabase

The Dadabase

P.S. As I post this, my sister is in labor with her first child.  Jack’s about to get a new cousin!  And I’m about to be an uncle for the first time, through blood.

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting, Storytelling

We’re Our Own Paparazzi and TMZ Show

June 19, 2011 at 9:17 pm , by 

Seven months.

The Dadabase

Anywhere we go with our son, my wife and I also take our four year old digital camera.  Between the two of us, we always have to be prepared to take a shot of Jack doing something for the first time.  Or we have to provide proof of just how cool he looks in that moment.

As I was recently making creepy lizard faces at my son to make him laugh, I shared with my wife the realization that Jack won’t actually remember any of this.He won’t remember me pushing him around in a diaper box.  Or my wife pretending to be a chicken.  It hit me that all our crazy antics we do to entertain our son end up amusing the two of us just as much as they do him- but only we will actually remember it the next day.

Jack in the Box

My sister’s memory began when she was one and a half years old (in 1985) and mine began in 1983 (on my 2nd birthday.)  Based on what I learned in Childhood Psychology in college, my sister and I are the exception to the rule to have a memory that began “recording” that early.  But even when Jack’s long-term memory does kick in, there will only be random memories that stay with him for life.

But I guess that’s the way our entire lives are: We only remember certain memories, frozen in the nostalgic part on our brains, sometimes disguising themselves as dreams from childhood.

If you are the only person to remember an event happening years after it occurs, you hold the exclusive rights to it occurring. In theory, it only happened because you remember it.  If you ever forget it, then it’s technically the same as it if it never happened, especially if no one else was there to notice the event happening: Especially ifthere were no photographs or videos taken of the event.

As one of the main photographers and the official journalist (daddy blogger) of Jack’s early years, I am preserving these otherwise forgotten details.  These stories won’t just be simply contained in the memories of my wife and I, but they will be waiting for Jack to learn about when he gets older.

Parents magazine

In the title I proclaimed that my wife and I are our son’s own paparazzi and TMZ show.  But that concept is a universal one; it doesn’t just apply to us because I publicly journal my son’s life in a blog on Parents.com.

In an age where Facebook photo albums have replaced actual photo albums like our parents had to put together for us, chances are if you are tech savvy enough to be reading a parenting blog, you can relate to the allusions to being your own paparazzi and TMZ show for your kids and family.

funny baby

P.S. This is my 100th post here on The Dadabase!  You can start from the beginning or catch up on anything you missed in between: Just click on the archives on the right side of the screen.  They go all the way back to when we first found out we were having a baby.

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President Obama’s “Strong Fathers, Strong Families” Initiative

June 17, 2011 at 11:10 pm , by 

Seven months.

The Dadabase

Recently in my post entitled, “The Positive Re-branding of Fatherhood,” I noted that dads are making a comeback and becoming more involved in their kids’ lives.  Call it a trend, call it a movement; I call it a necessary revolution: Men are changing the future of society now by priding themselves in not settling for mediocre fatherhood, but instead, awesome fatherhood.  And maybe even one day the term “Superdad” will actually be as familiar as “Supermom.”

In fact, I was pleasantly unsurprised to read today in another blog here on Parents.com about a recent poll showing that, compared to 50 years ago, fathers are indeed more involved in the lives of their children.  Granted, these days there are less households where the dad actually lives in the same household as his kids.  But for the dads who do dwell with their kids, these dads are definitely more active compared to 50 years ago.

So it’s not all in my head!  Dads really are making a comeback.  What a cool time to be a dad.  This is what The Dadabase is all about.

Today, I want to brag on President Barack Obama.  Last week he introduced a new initiative called “Strong Fathers, Strong Families,” which is a program that provides ways for fathers to spend quality time with their children, via free or discounted pricing on fun activities, such as bowling, sports games, and zoos.

In his recent essay, “Being the Father I Never Had,” he openly recognized the fact that despite the heroism of single moms who have raised a large portion of recent generations, the presence of an active father is valuable to the well-being and future of today’s children:

“And even though my sister and I were lucky enough to be raised by a wonderful mother and caring grandparents, I always felt [my father’s] absence and wondered what it would have been like if he had been a greater presence in my life. I still do. It is perhaps for this reason that fatherhood is so important to me, and why I’ve tried so hard to be there for my own children.” –President Barack Obama

For a guy like me whose active campaign and passionate mission is to positively re-brand fatherhood through this blog on Parents.com, I can’t help but feel strong admiration for our President in his public support for the “Strong Fathers, Strong Families.”  I tip my hat to Mr. Obama for using his voice for an idea so necessary and positive for the good of our country.

The Dadabase

I believe that it has become easy and normal to downplay the importance of fathers in the lives of their children. Because we as a society have learned to, in order to survive and move forward.  But I don’t want our American society to simply survive; I want it to thrive.  And even just the name of President Obama’s initiative itself spells it out pretty clearly: A strong father will lead and grow a strong family.

President Obama is not only taking action in sharing my same passion for parenting; but also just like I am doing, he is using his public platform to openly support active fatherhood.  I get it, not every child has the option of being raised by a good man. Many children have selfish, abusive, and/or absent biological fathers; some who have left by choice while others were good men but have unfortunately passed away.

Still, children need a positive adult male role model to fill that void, whether it’s an uncle, family friend, step-dad, a pastor, or neighbor.  It’s not okay that kids are growing up without good dads. Nor is it okay to deny the need or importance of a positive adult male role model in a child’s life.

Dads matter.

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I Am Worth Following, According to My Son

June 16, 2011 at 9:14 pm , by 

Seven months.

In the age of Facebook and Twitter, I never have to tell my son to “like” me or “follow me.”

Since learning to crawl, Jack uses every opportunity to make use of his newly acquired skill.  He’s like an SUV in human baby form. If my wife or I are sitting down on the floor with him as he is playing, he will make an effort to go out of his way to purposely crawl over our legs- if nothing else, to prove to himself he can handle it.

He obviously is always up for a new challenge.  Tossing the TV remote controller a few feet away from him is no longer an inspiring incentive.  Crossing the room is no longer that big of a deal to him anymore.  Instead, Jack’s newest self-induced challenge is to crawl from one side of the house to the other.  But not for an electronic device or the newest, coolest toy he could imagine.

Instead, I am his motivation.

When I come home from work every day, after greeting him and my wife, I typically go two rooms away to brush my teeth (I’m sort of obsessed with personal hygiene) and change into some more comfortable clothes and a hat.  By the time I’m done, I look up, and there he is:

So proud of himself that he journeyed the baby equivalent of the length of a basketball court to get to me.  And of course, I’m always so proud of him.  The best part is the big toothless smile on his face every time.  It’s always a highlight each time he does it.

Sometimes when he follows me across the house, he doesn’t stop crawling until he runs into my ankles.  And then he just stays there with his forehead leaning against my leg and his cold, clammy hands on my toes.  Other times, he will squeeze through between my ankles, offering up an obligatory grunt as if it’s a tight fit for him.

Honestly, when he follows me around the house, Jack reminds me of a little puppy or a kitten; who can’t talk, but who can show his affection and admiration by his gravitation towards me.  And yeah, that makes me feel pretty dang cool.

So while it’s always cool to realize I’ve gained a few more Twitter followers or a handful of “likes” for that day’s Dadabase post, nothing can compare to a little blond haired baby boy who thinks I’m the Shazbot.

He “likes” me the most and is one persistent “follower.”  And I just never want to let the little fella down.

As you may have noticed at the very top of the post, it no longer says “Six months.”  That’s because today, Jack is officially 7 months old!

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Man’s Constant Awareness of His Need to Provide

June 15, 2011 at 7:53 pm , by 

Six months.

The Dadabase

For a nostalgic guy like me, it can be very difficult to “live in the moment.”  And that’s not a good thing when it comes to being present in body, mind, and spirit as a husband and father.  Not to mention,  it’s sort of impossible for me to stop thinking about how I will provide for my wife and son.

In 1996, while most other 15 year-olds were listening to cool alternative grunge bands like The Smashing Pumpkins, Bush, and Stone Temple Pilots, I additionally had something they didn’t have: a cassette tape of the first album by The O.C. Supertones.

You’re probably familiar with hearing someone say “I grew up really Jewish… bar mitzvah, the whole deal….”  Even if it was simply Seth Rogen on Conan who said it, you understand the concept of “growing up really Jewish.”

Well, I “grew up really Christian.”  I learned to play the guitar in Junior High because I led the music for my church’s youth group on Wednesday and Sunday nights.  Every summer I went on a mission trip to a different state or country, doing repairs on widow’s homes during the day, then participating in drama and singing performances at city parks in the afternoons.  (Yes, I had a trendy W.W. J. D? bracelet.)

And while DC Talk was the coolest Christian rock band back in the those days, I also was a huge grassroots promoter of The O.C. Supertones- the main Gospel ska band of the ’90′s.

Last week as I felt like listening to nothing but all of their albums back-to-back, a line from their song “Unknown” stood out to me.  I have been listening to that song for 15 years but it finally made sense to me at a time when I needed to hear it most:

“Killing ourselves faster than fast; living in the future, living in the past.” I haven’t been able to shake the thought of how constantly I do just that:  I participate in the self-destructive behavior of either A) dwelling on how I should have/could have/would have done things differently in my past, if I was able or B) dwelling on how much better life will be a decade from now when my problems will hopefully have worked themselves out.

I realize that with all the positive vibes I constantly send out in my daily writings here on The Dadabase, I may sometimes make my version of being a dad and husband seem easier than it actually is.  And perhaps it seems that Jack never causes any stress for my wife or I.  But despite my optimism and quirkiness, my life is as normal as they come.  I encounter the same basic stresses as all other dads and husbands.

Admittedly, I question some of my past decisions and actions.  And I seriously wonder about my future; financially.

The Dadabase

Since moving from our secure jobs in Nashville before Jack arrived, we now live on a much smaller single income, with a kid.  Yeah, the thought of money stresses me out big time. Living here in Alabama now, I can’t provide for them the same way I used to.  Money sure isn’t everything, but Nashville’s good economy definitely eased things in my mind.

As I am wired to do, I ultimately feel responsible for providing for my family. So I question the version of myself who a few years ago led me to make the decisions to get me here today.  And I often fantasize about a future time when I won’t feel the stress that I am feeling now.

Of course, my making a habit of mentally time traveling is not a good thing. Because if I keep going back far enough, I may fantasize about a time when I had no real responsibilities and no family of my own.  And it is nothing but counter-productive and selfish to subconsciously covet the 21 year old college version of myself who made money by selling egg rolls and Hot Pockets from the mini-fridge in my college dorm.

The weight of my responsibilities is constantly on my mind.  Will I be able to care for my family?  Am I good enough for them?  Should I have gotten something other than an English degree a decade ago in college, so I could be assured I’d make enough money to be the breadwinner at age 30?

This is an honest, vulnerable look into a guy’s brain.  I’m never unaware of my need to provide. Never.

Other men have greater or less financial concerns and decisions to make.  But still, as men, we are perpetually terrified of the realistic demon who reminds us that nothing we can do is ever enough.

It’s a matter of reminding myself that that even the ravens, who don’t even sow or reap, who don’t have storerooms or barns, are still fed. And I am much more valuable than a bird.

The Dadabase