Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

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Dear Jack: Please Do Not Bring Anymore Snails to the Dinner Table!

7 years, 9 months.

Dear Jack,

Immediately following the events of your frozen custard breakfast last Sunday morning, you suggested to your sister, “Hey Holly, you want to go outside to the back porch and catch some bugs?”

With absolutely no hesitation, your sister responded like she had just heard the most clever idea ever:

“YEAH!!!”

So while Mommy was upstairs handling the laundry that I had just carried up, I supervised the two of you downstairs.

It didn’t take much time at all for you to find a little black spider, which you temporarily captured using the clear container you got slime in the day before.

About that time, your sister decided she was ready to come back inside; as you were pretty quick to follow, seeing all the action was all moving back into the house.

You announced to Mommy as she just happened to be coming back down the stairs:

“Hey Mommy, look… I caught a snail. It’s right here!”

(This was the first I was hearing about the snail, too.)

Her response easily sums up the theme of you being a 2nd grader right now:

“Jack, please do not bring anymore snails to the dinner table!”

Mommy and I then reminded you that snails are especially nasty creatures and that we don’t want their germs in our kitchen where we sit down to eat our meals.

However, I am willing to admit that snails are a delicacy in France.

But we don’t live in France. We live in a house where Mommy makes the rules when it comes to cleanliness and I make the rules regarding discipline.

It’s like Law and Order: Parenting Edition.

So while we both can greatly appreciate your passion for science and The Great Outdoors, it’s important not to bring that science from The Great Outdoors indoors.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: Eating Culver’s Chocolate Frozen Custard for Breakfast, Thanks to Our Church…

2 years, 3 months.

Dear Holly,

As we exited through the front doors of our church this past Sunday morning around 9:20 AM, one of the executive pastors turned to our family with an unexpected solicitation: “Frozen custard! Right here! Chocolate for vanilla?”

There was no reason to even bother asking why our church was giving free Culver’s frozen custard to all the members and visitors of The Bridge. They are known for committing random acts of kindness; like during the first week of school recently, they gave literally every school teacher in surrounding cities a free cup of Starbucks.

Somewhat miraculously, Mommy and I were able to convince both you and your brother that it wouldn’t be a good idea to try and eat your ice cream during the 10 minute car drive back to the house.

But the moment we made it to the kitchen, the two of you set up shop. There wasn’t much conversation going on during your chocolaty breakfast. In fact, I don’t recall either of you saying one word.

Instead, it was simply a matter of how much chocolate ice cream you both could scarf down until the brain freezes started kicking in.

The answer? Not a whole lot, really.

You both made it about 5 spoons in when you realized that while it was indeed great stuff, it was probably a bit too much awesomeness so early in the morning; on a mainly empty stomach.

I noticed only as I was washing your face afterwards, that you had the perfect chocolate mustache!

It’s a rare thing to be able to start a Sunday morning off right, with Culver’s frozen custard. But thanks to our church, The Bridge in Spring Hill, Tennessee, everything lined up just right.

Now that I think of it, you and your brother are pretty lucky kids!

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: Your Back-to-School, 2nd Grade Haircut (1 Inch on Top, #2 Guard on the Side, Down to #1 in the Back)

7 years, 9 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Friday you began 2nd grade with a half day of school. I hadn’t had a chance to get your hair cut beforehand, so you still had your grown-out summer mop hairstyle going on.

So I took you to the Great Clips, just a mile from our house, first thing on Saturday morning.

I could tell you were proud to get cleaned up. Though Mommy and I told you that your hair was long enough to change up your hairstyle into a bangs look, you expressed that’s the part of your hair that annoyed you the most: the hair getting in your eyes.

That’s what you had been telling me the past two weeks each morning, as I am the one who fixes your hair before school… and church… and anytime we leave the house.

I even offered to get you a buzz cut, but you weren’t that annoyed by the hair getting in your eyes.

So I guess that is your standard haircut now:

1 inch long on top; with a #2 guard on the sides, down to a #1 guard in the back.

This makes the 3rd time in a row we’ve gone to Great Clips and they simply cut your hair based on the notes in the computer from the time before- and you were perfectly happy with the results.

That’s the hairstyle  you like. And you know this. It’s part of your identity.

And then when your hair gets long enough that it’s in your eyes again, about a month or so later, that means it’s time for a new haircut.

It’s interesting to me that as a 2nd grade boy, you know what you do and do not like in a hairstyle for yourself:

Buzz cut? Nope, too short.

Bangs? No way, too annoying.

Long enough to sort of spike on top and very short on the sides and back?

Perfect.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: Yes, You Do Your Own Stunts!

2 years, 3 months.

Dear Holly,

After Nonna and Papa had spent the weekend at our house while Mommy and I went to see Kenny Chesney in Nashville and then painted the back porch the next day, it was time for them to head back Sunday afternoon.

So I announced to you, “Holly, it’s time to say goodbye to Nonna and Papa…”

You immediately ran over to them, smiled, then ran the other way- towards the sofa.

All weekend, you had been showing off your furniture climbing skills. As if to give them one more little talent show before they left, you climbed right up the arm of the couch, then rolled yourself over onto the cushion.

From there, you hopped down, ran towards Nonna and Papa, then continued to repeat the sofa climb.

After several cycles through, Papa finally grabbed you for the official goodbye hug.

Otherwise, I think you could have easily gone another 30 minutes through your self-imposed obstacle course in the living room.

It’s clear to me that right now, one of the things that is definitely a part of your identity is your fearlessness. You demonstrated this to Nonna and Papa all weekend.

If you could climb it, you did. If you could jump from it, you did.

And never once did you fall or get hurt. Papa even witnessed you teach yourself how to do a somersault, as you were running so fast across the living room floor that you stumbled, fell forward, then instinctively pushed yourself up after your legs had already flipped over your head.

I can’t help but think how this ends up translating to your interests and activities as you get a little older.

Gymnastics? Yeah, that’s a given.

But I’m even thinking indoor rock climbing. That may be the thing that’s actually challenging enough for you!

Love,

Daddy

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I Bet It’s Difficult for My Co-Workers to Imagine I am Married and Have Kids!

I have caught on to a tradition in my office, since starting there over 3 months ago:

Every Friday afternoon, an “It’s almost the weekend!” email goes out to about 20 people in our department, to help motivate everyone through those last couple of hours. Typically, it’s something like a funny Internet meme or an office-themed comic strip.

Well, last Friday, it was… me.

It was a picture taken of me as I was returning from my lunch break.

Apparently I feel comfortable enough working there now that I have begun wearing Hawaiian shirts on Fridays; not because that’s an official thing we do in our office, but simply because I feel like wearing Jimmy Buffett style clothing when it’s that close to the weekend.

Hey, if it were up to me, I’d be wearing a Hawaiian shirt to work every day!

I’m not sure my wife would approve though; even if my co-workers encouraged such Dave Coulier behavior.

And this is actually something I’ve been thinking about, as one of my co-workers recently commented, “Nick, I wonder what your wife must be like? Is she normal? How does she handle being married to you?

My immediate response to her: “And don’t forget… I have two kids, as well! Imagine me being in charge of two young human beings!”

When you spend 40 hours a week working next to the same people 5 days a week, it can be easy to assume that version of them is the default. And to some degree, the “work version” of me does bleed over to the “family version” that my wife and kids know.

In both cases, I believe in being structured and focused, yet optimistic and creative.

But I bet it’s difficult for my co-workers to imagine I am married and have kids.

I think to some degree, even I’m confused:

How do I consistently co-exist on a daily basis, as different versions of myself?

The daytime version at my office versus the evening version with my family.

I wonder now, in reality, if there’s even much of a difference?