Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

Groundbreaking Theory: Kids Have Less Emotional Intelligence Than Adults

November 29, 2012 at 11:51 pm , by 

2 years.

Dear Jack,

You can’t always change how you feel, but you can choose to decide how you’ll react to how you feel.

In other words, emotions are automatic; behavior is controllable.

That’s the lesson I was forced to teach you today.

I’m not gonna lie. This morning was the most difficult morning I’ve ever had with you.

It was rough! For both of us. Simply exhausting.

After getting you through the front door, I picked up on the fact you weren’t able to let it go that “YouTube time” was over and you had to go to school.

As I attempted to buckle you in your car seat, you screamed at me while bowing out your back, making it impossible for me to strap you in without possibly bruising you, as you violently resisted me.

So I took away your graham crackers and toy train.

That got your attention. I was able to buckle you in your seat as your focus was no longer about fighting me and now you were just simply angry at me for taking away your pre-breakfast snack and morning ride entertainment.

I started up the car and turned around to explain to you the deal, as you began your hostile emotional meltdown:

“Jack, listen. I’m going to give you your crackers and your toy; all you have to do is just one thing: Calm down. That means if you simply stop crying for a few seconds and stop screaming, you’ll get what you want.”

Your response, in a faux German accent: “MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!!!”

For the following 18 minutes, as I drove towards the interstate, it was a back and forth battle between the two of us: I would explain that all you had to do was calm down for a few seconds, you would retaliate with the equivalent of the Tasmanian Devil cursing.

I held a graham cracker in my hand just waiting for a 2 second pause in your crying. Finally, it happened. I slipped you one cracker.

Then you realized how it worked. If you calmed down, you got the very thing you were demanding.

By the second half of our drive to daycare, you had earned back all your crackers, as well as, your toy train.

Right now, at the age of 2, your emotional intelligence isn’t that high. Being able to manage your emotions is not easy for you.

So that means it’s my job to help you with that.

Your meltdowns seem to be triggered mainly when you are told no. Therefore, my main goal is to help you learn not to cry and get upset when I can’t, or won’t, give you what you want.

On the drive home tonight, I purposely avoided turning down the cul-de-sac with all the inflatable Snoopy Christmas yard decorations that you love to see. Instead, I wanted to test how you’d react.

Son, you did well. You accepted my rejection.

That means next time, you’ll definitely get to see Snoopy.

The more you can handle being told no, the more I will tell you yes.

I know it’s a struggle for you right now, but let me tell you, it’s even a challenge for me as an adult to be told no. I promise I know how you feel.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Dad Speaks To 2-Year-Old Son On 12th Grade Reading Level

November 27, 2012 at 11:40 pm , by 

2 years.

Dear Jack,

I just never could bring myself to talk to you like you were a baby, even when you actually were a baby.

The closest I ever came was back when you were 7 months old, when one of my ongoing bits with you was to say, ”Ya wanna give ya Daddy-Waddy a kissy-wissy on da wippy-wippy-wippies?”

Basically, I was trying to playfully annoy you by puckering up real big and acting like I was about to kiss you on the lips.

But clearly, I was mocking the concept of “talking baby talk” to you. To actually talk to you the way I was supposed to, all cutesy… just the thought of it somehow made me feel phony.

So since the very beginning, I’ve always spoken to you like an adult. And really, so has Mommy.

You’re 2 years old now and we haven’t changed the way we speak to you. But you, on the other hand, definitely have changed the way you communicate with us.

You are now regularly speaking in 5 word sentences. I know that you grasp a good majority of what I tell you, even if you still haven’t figured out the meaning of the phrase, “I don’t know.”

(Right now, your version of “I don’t know” is just to simply look down at whatever Thomas the Train toy is in your hand until I change the subject.)

The main reason I love the fact you can understand what I say now is because I can more efficiently give you realistic expectations, which helps prevent surprising disappointments.

For example, when it’s nearing time for Nonna and Papa to go back home after a weekend of staying with us, I look you in the eyes and map out the plan so that you are not ambushed and consumed with anxiety a couple of hours later:

“Listen, Jack. I want you to know what to expect. After we eat lunch, it’s going to be time for Nonna and Papa to go back home. So make the most of this time because it will be a few more weeks before you will see them again.”

I am not worried about saying words that are too big for you to understand, because at this point, that would include a lot of words.

For what it’s worth, you can now say the name of Mommy’s home state: “California.” You pull it off quite well.

The way I see it, my use of words beyond your comprehension level (and/or reading level) is a good thing.

Besides, you’re used to it by now: You have a Daddy who has an English degree and a job in writing. For all practical purposes, I’m Ross Geller.

I have a feeling you are going to be one articulate little boy. Can you say “articulate?”

No, seriously… can you?

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting, Storytelling

Dad Gets Trapped In Parallel Universe With Son

November 27, 2012 at 12:30 am , by 

2 years.

Dear Jack,

Had you been born a girl, I know I would have loved you just as much. But instead, you’re a rough-housing, toy train-holding, spiky-haired little boy.

And I really like all that about you.

I daydream a lot about our future together and what all adventures we can tear into.

There’s a monster truck rally coming to town in a couple of weeks that I’d love to take you to…

Unfortunately, it doesn’t start until after your bedtime and I already know there’s no way that would go well.

But as soon as you’re old enough, I can’t wait to see your eyes light up in excitement as an unnecessarily large truck runs over 1980s Buicks. As for now, you like to watch clips of monster trucks on YouTube with me.

You also love to watch donkeys, buses, and “French trains.” I’m not sure why it’s important to you that the trains are French, but I type it in and clips pop up, so we watch them together.

On the day this picture was taken, I taught you to throw sticks in the water. You were obsessed with the new skill. The truth is, you were actually really good at it.

Just wait a few years and then I’ll teach you the impressive ability to skip rocks across the water.

See, I’m not sure those are the kinds of things girls really care about. But you, you get me.

At only 2 years old, you understand where I’m coming from. I really appreciate the fact that you’re okay with listening to Weezer on the 45 minute drive home from daycare as the two of us silently contemplate life.

We can be in our own little weird worlds, together. It’s like we’re trapped in some parallel universe, you and I, for the rest of our lives. Though we live among the rest of the world, even Mommy, we still speak a strange exclusive language between the two of us..

If only you knew how much I look forward to the two of us building f0rts, having snowball fights, practicing sports, having afternoon-long video game battles, and just simply going on long walks in different neighborhoods as we explore a new mediocre environment. Man, all those things are so important and crucial in understanding what life is really about.

The way you get me, I have a feeling I’ll get you too. I’m going to instantly understand you when others don’t even come close.

I’ve been where you are now. Granted, it was 1983. But hey, Smurfs are still cool, right?

Just know this: The way you think, the way you feel, the things you think are fun, chances are that I did and still do feel the same.

Maybe even now, I’m standing with one foot in 1983 and the other in present day. I’m transcending time and universes just to be close to you.

Pretty cosmic bond we have, huh?

 

Love,

Daddy

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Surprisingly Asking, “What If We Had Another Kid?”

November 25, 2012 at 8:26 pm , by 

2 years.

Dear Jack,

The day after Thanksgiving, Mommy and I had to go work, so your Nonna and Papa came up to visit and take care of you.

When I got home, Nonna told me how you kept telling her, “Mama and Daddy go to doctor.”

These days, you have random words floating around your head at any given moment, so you are often spitting out sentences that, while they make sense, aren’t actually true at all.

No, Mommy and I haven’t gone to the doctor; specifically, we haven’t gone there to confirm a pregnancy or get a sonogram. That’s because Mommy’s not pregnant.

But you sure had Nonna wondering.

Jack, you definitely may be an only child. That’s something Mommy and I have been very open about with everyone.

We don’t think it should be weird to only have one kid. In fact, it’s a wonderful and respectable idea.

However, I am willing to admit, now that you’re 2… I’m not completely opposed to the idea of having another kid, like I basically was just a couple of months ago.

No offense, but you’re a lot easier to take care of now. I’m not feeling overwhelmed or slightly angry like I was before.

It also has to do with me feeling more secure at my job as I am getting HR certified. It has to do with Mommy and I getting closer to being out of debt. And it has to do with neither of us being stressed out quite as much.

Like I said in my letter to you on your 2nd birthday last week, “The younger you were, the more difficult being a dad was. I was so clueless, even a year ago.”

I recently realized that I no longer feel clueless as your dad. I am much more prone to take on any challenge if I already sort of know what I’m doing.

A couple of weeks ago, Mommy asked you, “Jack, do you want a brother or a sister?”

You instantly answered, “Stister.”

That’s no typo- you literally said “stister.”

We’ll keep that in mind. But I still don’t think you’ll be a big brother anytime soon. Give us at least a year or two.

 

Love,

Daddy

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I Will Try To Teach My Son Not To Say Stupid Things

November 25, 2012 at 7:50 pm , by 

2 years.

Dear Jack,

On Thanksgiving day, Mommy and I were pulling you around the neighborhood for an afternoon wagon ride, per your request.

We pulled around the corner to find two new grandpas getting out of their trucks, so proud to go inside and see their 8-day-old grandson. The two of them had traveled from out of town to see him.

“Oh, 8 days old? That’s the day he would be circumcised according to Jewish tradition. But I guess he was probably circumcised after just a couple of days while he was still in the hospital, right?”

It didn’t end there. I went on about your circumcision and probably how I don’t remember my own.

Then, finally, I shut up.

I reminded myself to just let those two new grandpas glory in their new grandson.

All I had to do was just smile and say some encouraging comment like, “Just imagine, in two years, you’ll be pulling your grandson around the neighborhood in a Radio Flyer wagon.”

Normally, I wouldn’t have had circumcision on my brain. But I had just finished a book called The Circumcision Decision. And evidently, my filter wasn’t working.

I’m referring to the John Mayer song, “My Stupid Mouth,” where he says, “How could I forget? Mama said, ‘Think before speaking.’ No filter in my head, oh what’s a boy to to do? I guess I’d better find one soon.”

Honestly, it had been a while since I had said something that stupid, making things so awkward that the only way to salvage the situation was to politely walk away and say, “Have a nice day.”

Son, I spent the majority of my childhood saying dumb things out loud, which I instantly regretted. I remember in 5th grade setting a goal of trying to make it one whole year without saying something awkward and embarrassing myself.

Didn’t make it a week.

So much of being successful and influential in life is being able to know what to say to people, but even more important is knowing when just to say nothing at all.

As you grow up, I will be here to help direct you on this. I want you to naturally say less stupid things than I did when I was a kid. I want you to learn from my mistakes.

It’s my wish for you that you won’t be able to relate to John Mayer’s song as much as I do.

 

Love,

Daddy