Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

1 Comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

5 Impractical Ways To Save Your Family Money In 2013

January 1, 2013 at 1:17 am , by 

2 years, 1 month.

Dear Jack,

From first glance, we look like apretty normal American family. If people only knew…

As for this time around, I would like to focus on 5 impractical ways that our family saves money…

I’ve heard it said that Generation Y parents are predicted to become much like the penny-pinching generation who was our age during the Great Depression.

Well, I believe it. Here’s the how and the why.

These are 5 impractical ways we as a family save money:

1. We don’t pay for cable or satellite TV. Instead, we pay $7.99 a month for the Netflix streaming plan. We have unlimited access all the shows you love, like Thomas & Friends and Sesame Street; for Mommy and me, there’s Lost and The Office. That’s not even mentioning all the movies that are available.

2. We don’t pay for Internet on our phones. Since we’re already paying for wireless Internet for our house and because our jobs don’t directly depend on it, it’s difficult for us to justify paying even more for Internet so we can play Angry Birds on our phones while we’re bored. Because honestly, as your parents, we never have time to be bored. I wouldn’t mind that, though.

3. We hardly ever go out to eat. By hardly ever, I mean, on a bad month, about twice. While the documentaryFood Inc. conveys a message that a family of 4 can eat for less on McDonald’s Dollar Menu, that’s not accounting for the fact there won’t be leftovers the next day. Shunning restaurants saves money.

4. We don’t update our electronics or possessions that cost over $100. My iPod has a cracked screen and its charge only lasts about 2 days. The screen of our 2006 model TV is only 30 inches wide, yet the length of it is nearly just as long. Oh yeah, and it’s been struck by lightning, so parts of the screen are discolored. Mommy and I have had the same cell phones for well over 2 years, but because Verizon recently started charging an “activation fee” for their “free phones,” we decided to just keep our old ones. In other words, if it ain’t dead, don’t fix it.

5. We live by a strict weekly budget, on an Excel spreadsheet. Like financial guru Dave Ramsey says, “If you don’t tell your money where to go, it will tell you where to go.” It’s impractical to account for every dollar spent, but knowing that we are projected to reach “debt free” status in 2013, I don’t mind living an impractical lifestyle.

So what if we shun credit cards and cable TV like the plague, or perhaps more relevantly, like high-fructose corn syrup? Mommy and I are obsessed with telling our money where to go.

We’ve learned the hard way. Just a couple of years ago, our money was telling us where to go. As for 2013, Lord willing, we will finally be free of debt.

Somehow, becoming debt-free is one of the most practical things I can think of.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on People, Storytelling

Mazel Tov On My 2 Year-Old’s Bed Mitzvah!

December 30, 2012 at 9:18 pm , by 

2 years, 1 month.

Dear Jack,

I now wrap up the year 2012 with a noteworthy milestone in your life: Mommy and I just tucked you in for the night, for the first time… in your “big boy bed.”

No more crib for you. You have graduated into the day bed version.

Look how proud you are in this picture!

At long last, you are now sleeping like a 2 year-old, not a baby.

Son, tonight was your Bed Mitzvah.

This change in your life also is aligned with your parents’ more deliberate focus on helping your become potty trained.

Yesterday at T. J. Maxx, Mommy and I bought you 3 metal Chuggington trains. We explained to you that for the next 3 times you go pee-pee on the potty, you get to open a new train. (Sure, it’s an unavoidable pun: We’re potty training you.)

As an added bonus, you have recently received a surprisingly relevant gift last week that helps you sleep easier for your naps… a Thor indoor play tent.

It’s random because you have no idea who Thor is yet. You call it your tunnel.

“I can sleep in my tunnel?”

While attempting to get you to go to sleep for your afternoon naps on the weekends has always been a struggle, this new “tunnel” of yours is a pretty cool thing.

It has a side door which I pop my head in to read you a quick story. You never seem to mind when I slip out the door afterwords. Two hours later, you wake up and you’re ready to play again.

I just wish we would have known the wonders of a tunnel sooner!

So between your new “big boy bed” and your “tunnel,” I’d say things are pretty exciting in the world of sleeping, for you.

To this day, whenever Mommy and I ask you if you’re ready to go to sleep, as we can clearly see you are, you’ve never said yes.

Here’s to my wishful thinking that might change now that you’ve had your Bed Mitzvah…

I know, it’s asking too much.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting, Spirituality

Of All The Little Boys In The World, I’d Pick You Every Time

December 30, 2012 at 12:32 am , by 

2 years, 1 month.

Dear Jack,

Last night I saw the new “momantic comedy” The Guilt Trip starring Seth Rogen and Barbara Streisand. While I acknowledge the movie hasn’t received the best of reviews, I personally loved it all the way through and already want to see it again.

It made me think of you:

At the beginning, as well as, the end of the movie, the mother tells her son that if all the little boys in the entire world were lined up and she had to pick just one to be her son, she would pick him… every time.

That may sound like a simple and passing statement, but to me, it holds a lot of weight.

I think of this heavenly adoption room where parents go to pick out the kid they want to be their own. As I walk through the hundreds of rows of little boys, I just keep looking.

Then as I begin to experience being overstimulated by all the bright lights and unorchestrated voices, like the way I do anytime I have to go to Wal-Mart, I finally see you at the end of the row, despite squinting my eyes through the dizziness.

It’s you, Jack! It’s you!

I’d know you anywhere, even if I’d never seen or met you before. I know that barely makes much sense, but it’s true.

If all the little boys in the world were lined up, and I had to just pick only one, I’d choose you… every time.

To say you’re special to me is an understatement. Maybe the best way I can say it is that you’re… mine.

And I know you feel the same way. You tell me in the way you pat me on the back as I carry you to the car when I pick you up from daycare, proudly saying, “My daddy.”

That’s right. I am your Daddy.

While you often liberally use the word “mine” to describe so many things that definitely aren’t yours, I’ll definitely be yours.

After all, I picked you out of all the little boys in the world.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

Teaching An American 2 Year-Old To Kiss Like A European

December 27, 2012 at 9:14 pm , by 

2 years, 1 months.

Dear Jack,

Every night before we put you to bed, you know you have to kiss Mommy and me goodnight.

Right now, we’re helping you figure out how to do it just right.

“No tongue, Jack!”

That’s what Mommy has to remind you because you have this habit; instead of kissing us, you lick us, like you’re a puppy.

The goal is for us to kiss each other on the cheek, not the lips.

But several times now, you have leaned in to me with your mouth open like you’re about to take a big bite out of an ice cream cone.

Please know how hard it is for me not to laugh when you do that, but I know I can’t afford to as I’m trying to get you into sleep mode.

There’s this concept in my head of you and I kissing each other on the cheek as we say hello and goodbye, even as we get older.

I know that may sound a little bizarre at first; mainly because it is. Because we’re Americans living in America.

If we were in Italy or France, it probably wouldn’t be that weird.

Just picture us, 20 years from now, wearing cabbie hats as we greet each other with open arms and a classic European father-son kiss on the cheek.

(Just saying that out loud seems so un-American; like the kind of thing that Paul Rudd would do unsuccessfully in a Judd Apatow movie.)

But that’s how I imagine us; being totally comfortable with being physically affectionate.

Granted, it’s to be done with discretion; not the kind of thing to be executed in front of your friends when you’re in the 6th grade. After all, I’m no helicopter parent nor do I want to be associated with the term “attachment parenting.’

Aside from what I see as unfavorable extremes, I just want it to be normal for a dad to kiss his son hello, goodbye, and goodnight; even if it comes across as European.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting, Spirituality

The Masculine Version Of A Tea Party, Part 2

December 26, 2012 at 10:15 pm , by 

2 years, 1 month.

Dear Jack,

While I am quick to tell you all the things you’re good at, I have to be honest with you today: You’re officially not good at playing like a girl.

The picture to the right might imply that you are a 2 year-old boy who enjoys a good old-fashioned tea party. However, let me remind you what I said in The Masculine Version Of A Tea Party, Part 1:

“You are wired to choose action involving crashes and messes, not role-playing a sophisticated brunch.”

Turns out, I was right.

As you played with your cousin Calla’s new tea set on Christmas, you quickly pretended to eat all the icing off the plastic cupcakes and see how fast you could gulp down the invisible tea.

It was a cupcake cake eating contest, with tea to wash it all down… and you won, fair and square!

So uncivilized.

Immediately after, you moved on to Calla’s new dollhouse. It didn’t take you long to discover that there was a handle on the toilet in the bathroom you could press down to hear it flush.

Needless to say, the dollhouse quickly became more like a truck stop.

Later you decided to check out your cousin’s new Disney princess tent with her and Mommy.

As you can see in the picture here, you helped transform the event into Jack’s Jump House. It only took about 7 minutes before you bumped heads with Calla and ended the rockin’ party before its prime.

So while certain dads might raise an eyebrow to see their son so easily playing with pink foo foo girls’ toys, not me.

Because I know you simply make a joke out of anything a princess would find enticing.

Instead, you’re the king of the playground and all the world is your stage.

 

Love,

Daddy