Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

Leave a comment Posted on movie reviews, parenting

I Travelled Through Time And Space To Get To You

May 13, 2014 at 8:29 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

People are fascinated by the concept of time travel. I can understand why.

Only God is not limited by time or space.

However, we as human beings are stuck in the 70 year lifespan we are assigned. No such thing as a re-do for even just one day.

We can at least learn from our mistakes, but we can’t go back in time to change our past in order to ultimately change our future.

Still though, I think I keep secretly hoping that one day I can. It’s stupid to think that, I know.

I could have been a much more knowledgeable, helpful husband and father and son and brother and friend if only I knew then what I know now.

Not being able to time-travel puts us in an annoying situation where we have to make things right, ourselves- as people allow us, after the fact.

Saturday, Mommy picked up Frozen (more on that in the next letter) for you from Redbox and a movie called, About Time, for her and me.

When I saw the cover with Rachel McAdams, I assumed it was just another version of The Notebook.

I was wrong. It was more of a barely R-rated version of Marley And Me, without the dog, but with a plot line involving time travel.

It features the close relationship between a father and his adult son, as they both are able to time-travel to events in their own life in order to relive them for the better.

They eventually begin reliving each day, right after it happens, in an effort to catch all the subtleties they missed the first time.

There are those missed opportunities to smile at someone, to make someone laugh, or to just simply appreciate the otherwise uninteresting parts of life with the people they encounter.

The son begins realizing he no longer needs to go back and relive each day, as he sharpens his ability to truly appreciate those “lesser” moments. He begins enhancing the lives of his family, and strangers, in the process.

But I guess I don’t have to time-travel to learn that same lesson.

Actually, I feel that watching the movie twice over the weekend has actually helped changed my thinking for the better.

The movie points out that we are all travelling through time each day and it’s up to us how we manage that time the first and final time through it.

It just so happens, you and I are travelling through time together. You’re stuck with me, kid.

I loved that the theme song of the movie, which is featured throughout, is “The Luckiest” by Ben Folds. That was the song that Mommy and I had for “our song” at our wedding nearly 6 years ago.

“The Luckiest” points out how much it matters that two people are born in the same span in the history of the world so that they can know each other and be close.

Had I been born a hundred years ago and Mommy was born in 1981, as she truly was, then you wouldn’t exist. The three of us wouldn’t exist as a family.

But I believe we were meant to be together in this life in which we travel through time together.

This movie, About Time, helped remind me just how special and important  it is to be alive during the time I am… with the people I am here with.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

Lance The Magical Wonder Horse And Jack The Jockey

May 12, 2014 at 10:14 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I feel like so many of these letters begin with me telling you about an online special that Mommy found, which introduced our family to a new experience.

This letter is one of those.

On Saturday, we drove about 45 minutes from Nashville to Mt. Juliet to take you to a 30 minute horse riding lesson.

I figured that, worst case scenario, you would be freaked out by the horse and I would spend most of the lesson trying to convince you to stay on the horse.

As a parent, I have learned the importance of lowering my own expectations, as necessary…

With that being said, I didn’t have to apply that skill this time.

In fact, I was amazed at how eager you were to ride your horse; his name was Lance, by the way.

You really liked Lance the Magical Wonder Horse!

The instructor even had you waving at Mommy and me, and riding backwards, by the time it was over.

I watched how, at the end, you had such pride in putting away the equipment and feeding Lance some carrots as a treat.

You were just such a natural. I would have been terrified to have ridden a horse at your age.

Having you for a son is teaching me how timid I really was as a boy. I feel like I didn’t really grow out of it until about 7th grade.

As for you, you’re an adventurer.

Something that really stood out at me about this place, was the fact that many of their horses are rescues. I learned that many work horses end up in what’s called “the kill bin” after their better years are over.

It’s cool that the horses are being given a respectful retirement- by brightening children’s days, as Lance did for you.

After your lesson was finished and Mommy was talking to the owner about the possibility of having your 4th birthday party there in November, you asked me to take you to the pile of gravels behind the barn.

Playing in gravels- that’s such a “3 year-old boy kind of way” to finish off a horse riding lesson.

Seeing you meet Lance was like watching you meet a real-life version of one of your stuffed animals.

It was like you two already knew each other- like Lance was used to sleeping in your bed and riding with you to school each morning.

Maybe we’ll see Lance again…

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on funny, parenting

Just A Tiny Little Mother’s Day Mishap, That’s All

May 11, 2014 at 10:11 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I decided that this year for Mother’s Day, I wanted you to pick out everything for Mommy yourself.

That’s right, I would simply be your accomplice as I snuck you out of school during your Friday afternoon nap and wisked you away to Hallmark and Whole Foods.

Honestly, you did a great job of picking Mommy’s gifts:

A pretty new summer scarf and Winnie the Pooh card from Hallmark, along with Mommy’s favorite kind of licorice and some pink lilies from Whole Foods.

I had been preparing you all week:

“Okay Jack, you and me are going to get Mommy some gifts for Mother’s Day, but it’s our little secret until Sunday.”

And I purposely waited until Friday for our dadventure to take care of these gifts, should it be too much temptation for you to spill the beans to Mommy.

But as soon as we stepped into the house on Friday, two days before Mother’s Day, you invited Mommy to the trunk of our car where we had her gifts stored.

Granted, you were already presenting Mommy with her flowers two days early, but that was supposed to be the only thing you gave her before Mother’s Day.

Mommy and I both attempted to explain to you that those gifts were meant to be a surprise.

But after about 7 minutes of you crying and screaming in the hallway, you finally blurted out, “It’s a scarf!”

At that point, I gave up and Mommy got to celebrate Mother’s Day early, by receiving her scarf.

Well, at least we made her wait for the candy and card.

From here on out, I plan repeat this same formula each year: Secretly take you away to pick out Mommy’s gifts for Mother’s Day.

I’ll be interested in learning which year your gifts actually get to remain a surprise!

It was just a tiny little Mother’s Day mishap this year, that’s all.

She still had a wonderful time with you and me today. Actually, she thought the scarf incident was pretty funny.

As for me, the “it’s a scarf!” part will probably be what I remember most about Mother’s Day 2014, years from now.

It’s pretty hilarious, actually.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on food reviews, funny, Nostalgia, parenting

Strawberry Banana Quesadillas On The Dark Side Of The Moon

May 11, 2014 at 4:35 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Saturday morning after you and Mommy made Strawberry Banana Quesadillas for breakfast, which we all loved, we decided to use the creative parts of our brains by doing some artwork together.

In our closet, you discovered some colorful foam sheets to draw on with markers. Mommy and I drew some animals per your request, while you worked on abstract pictures.

After each time you finished a new work of art, you held out the newly colored foam sheet in air and announced your next creation:

“Hey Daddy, look… this is a Skittle Fan. I think it’s an animal.”

You then explained to me your intentions. You planned to make enough works of art so that you can give one to each of your friends at school. Awesome idea!

My favorite was the last one you did. You announced to me:

“Daddy, this one is a dark, sedway moon. I think I dream about these things at night.”

Dark, sedway moon… So mysterious, so profound.

What if you really do dream about dark, “sedway” moons and your artwork is actually a window to what you dream about at night?

What if your abstract dreams will predict the future of what will happen in real life? Like a prophetic dream?

What if this is the premise of a PG-13 rated psychological thriller movie starring Robert De Niro or Greg Kinnear?

I think it could be. Hollywood will be calling me soon for the movie rights… I’m sure of it.

Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it. Actually, I think I just figured it out right now as I’m typing this: Maybe “sedway” is just your way of trying to say “side of,” as in, “dark side of the moon.”

Maybe you and I should play Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of The Moon while watching The Wizard of Oz. Or at least watch the 3rd Transformers movie.

I wasn’t even for sure that you dreamt at all yet. Now I know.

You are a fascinating kid, you know that?

Just another typical Saturday morning: Strawberry banana quesadillas and dark side of the moon.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on Health, parenting, vegan

Ask A Vegan Anything: Here’s Your Chance

May 10, 2014 at 9:09 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Starting today, I’m inviting the social media universe to “AMA”… ask me anything regarding our plant-based lifestyle.

I grew up during a time when it was normal to put my faith in finding the cure for cancer and disease by mailing in yogurt lids, running in races, and wearing ribbons.

Fortunately, in the past couple of years as the number of vegans in America has more than doubled, another option has begun spreading- thanks to Netflix documentaries and social media.

Turns out, your dad is one of those people who is attempting to positively (not narcissistically) set the record straight for anyone with sincere, curious questions; making myself a human Guinea pig for the world to see.

People who are like me believe there already is a cure for these cancers and diseases…but that the cure comes in a very inconvenient format:

Prevention (and reversal) through an exclusively plant-based diet of simply fruits, vegetables, beans, grains, nuts, and seeds.

It makes me think of the clever quote by Albert Einstein:

“Intellectuals solve problems, geniuses prevent them.”

Obviously, I won’t live forever in this body and I don’t believe that a 100% plant-based diet makes me invincible. Still, I don’t want my future years with you to include me having diabetes or cancer, knowing there might be something I could have done to keep it from happening.

But I suppose until a person watches Forks Over Knives on Netflix, it’s difficult for them to see the simple scientific and historical connection between animal product consumption and disease.

For me, it’s common knowledge that dairy consumption is linked to allergy and sinus issues, overproduction of mucus, osteoporosis and breast cancer.

(This is TMI, but I stopped producing white or any colored mucus the weekend I became a vegan. It has only been clear and minimal since my conversion last April; not to mention, no sinus pressure or infections since then, whereas I previously had those issues for 22 years straight.)

And that meat consumption is linked to diabetes and prostate cancer.

And that as a vegan, by default, I consume less than 1% of my daily allowance of cholestrol for each day, because there’s not enough cholesterol in plants to register more than 0.99%.

I’ve checked a lot of nutritional labels over the past year, and have yet to find anything I eat (even “fatty” avocados, cashews, and almonds) that registers as more than “0%,” even though plant-based food do contain some cholestrol.

Granted, I personally understand the skepticism…

I’ve mentioned that just a few weeks before becoming a vegan, I made the statement, “Vegan are idiots!” Now here I am, having consumed no animal products in over a year.

Still breathing, full of energy, with no more allergy and sinus problems, with a weaker prescription for my glasses, and am overall healthier than I’ve ever been in my life.

To some, I am a walking contradiction. How can a person who eats no meat, dairy, eggs, or animal bi-products (marshmallows, pudding, candy containing artificial food dyes, etc.) get enough protein, fat, and vitamins?

It could be easy to assume, if nothing else, I’m secretly hungry all the time. Yet I’m not. When I’m hungry, I eat- and then I’m not hungry anymore.

Once I nixed animal products from my diet, I was forced to get the “living” nutrition from the unprocessed fruits, vegetables, beans, grains, nuts, and seeds that I was previously neglecting because I was instead consuming animal products and pseudo “healthy snacks” like yogurt, granola bars, and diet soda.

As a new wave vegan, who chooses a plant-based diet not necessarily because of animals’ rights but instead because of the obvious health benefits, I want to be a positive, inviting example of our family’s lifestyle.

What I want to do is start making myself more available and present, in real life and on social media, for curious people who have honest, sincere questions about how we live.

In the process, you will learn more about why our family lives the way we do. After all, you and Mommy are almost completely plant-based as well.

I wonder what people will ask me, now that they know that a friendly, mostly sane vegan is giving an open platform to ask questions about our plant-based lifestyle… I’m ready.

 

Love,

Daddy