Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

A Yogurt And Tortilla Backsplash

June 1, 2013 at 10:21 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Some people just love doing home renovations. I wish I was one of them.

Walking into Lowe’s not only intimates me because of my lack of knowledge and skills as a handyman, but also because I know there’s no such thing as walking into Lowe’s just once for a project.

It’s simply the first of many times I think I have everything I need. Typically, a medium-sized project ensures at least four Lowe’s trips.

The dollar signs associated with those trips, plus knowing that I’ve underbudgeted my money as well as my time, well… it just helps explain why I’m not one of those people who loves doing home renovations.

Fortunately, Papa (my dad) knows how to do ceramic tiling and was willing to spend his Memorial Day weekend doing a backsplash for our kitchen while Mommy and I… assisted.

And by that, I mainly mean that we prepared our delicious vegan meals for him and Nonna.

I had feared that the whole time that while Papa was trying to work, you’d be trying to hang all over him, saying, “Papa, Papa! Play with me! Hold me!”

Instead, you chilled out with everyone. Thank you for that.

I appreciated your demonstration of becoming more independent.

You were soaking it all in, though. During lunch, you declared, “I tiling!”

After watching Papa glue the tile panels on the wall, you decided you would do the same with your yogurt and pieces of wheat tortilla.

In hindsight, I now can clearly see why you asked for those two items for that meal.

Fortunately for you, your yogurt and tortilla project wasn’t your only hands-on exposure to doing a backsplash last weekend.

Nonna took a couple of pictures with her phone and sent them to me while Mommy and I were at church.

I have to admit, you actually looked like you knew what you you doing… definitely compared to me, at least.

Ah, at last, our backsplash project is finally complete!

That’s one major milestone for our family as we work our way closer to moving our way out of our townhouse and eventually into “a real house.”

A real house where there will be more room- in case we end up needing it.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

The Cliche About Loving Being An Exhausted Parent

May 29, 2013 at 11:18 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Friday night as I scrolled through friends’ Facebook status updates in an effort to find anything controversial and/or weird, or therefore interesting, amidst pictures of Instagrammed feet propped up to convince everyone that person is truly relaxing and enjoying life Kenny Chesney style, I came across this status update by a fellow dad:

“You know you’re old when you spend Friday night with your family looking at floor tiles at Lowe’s… and you love it!”

Dozens of “likes” were won.

Somehow it sort of reminds me of Chris Rock’s line at the end of the movie What To Expect When You’re Expecting:

“We love being dads! When I was young, I used to think I was happy – but now I know I’m happy. Exhausted, but happy.”

It’s basically this idea that the rewards of parenting make up for the lack of sanity, peacefulness, and sleep I traded in.

This may be blasphemy to say in a parenting blog post, but, it’s not worth it…

What I mean is, I don’t think it’s fair or legitimate to say that the “rewards” of parenting “make up” for all the sacrifices involved.

Yes, I absolutely love being your dad, but it’s not something I would do for any amount of money; because no amount of money would be “worth it” to me. My price tag would be so expensive I wouldn’t receive anywhere near my asking price.

Being a dad is something I live for. I am wired to want to make all necessary sacrifices for you. And yes, it’s true: Nothing else I’ve ever experienced has brought me a better sense of meaning in my life.

But can you really put a value on life itself? I say you can’t. And when I think of “life itself,” I think of you.

I think of random little things you surprise me with every day; things that probably wouldn’t be that interesting if I told them to anyone else.

Like how you recently turned the CD sleeve to the newest Dave Matthews Band album into a new children’s storybook, which you read in a falsetto voice:

“Hey! Wake up everybody! Time to eat your oatmeal… The man wakes up in the box. Hey, where’s my bed? The bird wakes up on the lawn? He looks for food? He eats the Cheerios. The milk is yucky.”

To me, that’s brilliant. It’s moments like that you give me which are so subtle and hilarious and awesome… and priceless.

But not rewarding. Because I don’t see being a parent as a rewarding thing; I see it as life itself.

 

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

Stereotype: Boys Like Playing With Sticks And Mud

May 29, 2013 at 9:54 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

You should know: There’s this stereotype that little boys like playing with sticks and playing in the mud.

As if you really are so magnetically drawn to finding ways to get dirty and make messes; whether indoors or outdoors…

As if every time I take you to the park during my lunch break, you bypass the actual playground so you can collect sticks to throw them into the water and “make soup…”

As if you were predestined, and even hard-wired in your DNA as a little boy, to be so predictable like that…

Oh, snap.

Actually, all those things are true about you.

In fact, you sort of slipped on that rock and fell in the water; getting your whole left foot wet.

That’ll be our little secret. I cleaned you up good enough that no one seemed to notice by the time I took you back to school.

I also won’t mention the part about (or show the pictures of) you running from one end of the park to the other with your stick raised in the air like it was helping you fly.

After all, you had your cool skull-and-crossbones sunglasses on. Or, as I considered them in that moment, your “safety goggles.”

It’s funny to me that during our Friday afternoon tradition of going to the park, you never really look happy: You look pretty serious most of the time we’re there.

But I know the value of “serious” Daddy/son play time. You and I need regular time together in which words are not necessary; just primitive caveman stuff.

Yes, technically, you’re playing; but specifically, you exploring and experimenting with nature.

I guess your theory is this: If the good Lord intended for us to play with toys, He wouldn’t have given us sticks and mud.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

Does Being A Good Parent Make You More Judgmental?

May 28, 2013 at 9:44 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

For the past two weeks, while riding in the car with me to and from school, you had been asking for a black van.

I have no idea why. It’s not like you saw a cool black van or something.

So with Nonna and Papa (my parents) coming up for Memorial Day weekend, I figured I should let them know in case they could find one of my old childhood toys to suffice.

The plan worked, basically.

Papa found an old Tonka van of mine from circa-1985, but it was silver and red.

So he used a can of black spray paint and made it the right color.

Your “new” black van has snazzy red interior and has these cool “window walls.”

Yes, you were quite impressed.

As for me, however, I jokingly referred to your new toy as a “creeper van.”

It’s just that when I was young, I was taught to never go near big black vans with no windows in the very back… for safety reasons.

Similarly, though I have a nostalgic fascination of ice cream trucks, in reality, I have a distrust for the people who drive them… or big black vans with no windows in the very back.

I don’t want to be prejudiced towards anyone about anything, but if I said that I’m not leery of certain seemingly peculiar people in certain seemingly peculiar situations, then I would be lying.

Just a few days ago I told the story abouthow I myself creep out other parents when I do pull-ups at the playground on my lunch break; without you there with me.

However, I don’t feel judged by those parents. Actually, I totally get it. I just think it’s funny.

Does being a good parent make someone more judgmental, prejudice, and untrusting of others?

I can only speak for myself; and if I do, then that probably technically makes me prideful because I am assuming I am a good parent.

Somewhat interestingly, I admit I might come across as judgmental, prejudiced, and untrusting of others because of the fact that I see big black vans as “red flags.”

I call it being wisely protective. Others may see it as judgmental… but does that make them judgmental? I don’t know.

Clearly, I don’t have any answers. I’m just asking questions today.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

My Son Finds And Plays With Kitty Cats For A Living

May 24, 2013 at 11:21 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

I recently took you by my office on a Saturday morning while Mommy was buying groceries.

After all, it seems a little weird that though your daycare is just on the other side of the red light, you’ve never really gotten to see what it’s like inside that brown brick building where Daddy works.

Once you saw my chair and computer, you knew just what to do… except for that darn “Ctrl+Alt+Del” screen.

It wasn’t long before you realized you wouldn’t have the opportunity to watch any monster trucks on YouTube, so you got bored and wanted to watch me fill a Styrofoam cup with water in the break room.

Then, you were ready to go. So we left. (Granted, it was nice having my co-workers comment on you being a handsome little boy.)

And that’s my story about what it was like taking my 2 and a half year-old to work.

While that random Saturday morning may have seemed uneventful at the time, it wasn’t. It served as a model for you to follow in your playtime.

This week you scooted your new Thomas the Train trike down the hall into the living room and declared, “I go to work!”

You parked your “monster truck” (Thomas the Train trike) near the closet, then stood up, trying to figure out what pretending to work is supposed to look like.

“Jack, what do you do at work?” I asked.

Your response, with a clever smile:

“I play with kitty cats!” You ran over to your favorite plush cat doll and lifted it above your head like Link finding one of the fragments of the Triforce, then announced, “I found one!”

So from what I understand, your job is not only to play with kitties, but more importantly, finding them like Easter Eggs.

I don’t think you quite understand yet what Mommy and I do all day at work. For all I know, I figure you assume it’s like a daycare for adults.

Well, actually… maybe in some ways it is.

 

Love,

Daddy