Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

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My Toddler Son Is Officially On Potty Patrol: “Dada Did It!”

October 22, 2012 at 10:13 pm , by 

23 months.

*Warning: Contains oversharenting.

This morning on the car ride to daycare, Jack had a big sneeze: “Dada? Nose.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t have any Kleenex in the car or even a blanket for him to wipe his nose off with. About 12 minutes later, we had arrived at KinderCare.

We got there earlier than normal, so I was able to sneak him in the front nursery room where no one else was yet and take my time carefully cleaning his face.

I was concentrating so hard to get Jack clean, when all of the sudden, I… well, it just came out of nowhere!

“Dada did it!” Jack loudly proclaimed with a straight face.

Fortunately no one else was around to hear it; but if they were, Jack wanted to make it clear that “Dada did it!” and not Jack.

I’m just glad that embarrassing story gets to stay between father and son. It’ll be our little secret.

Oh, wait…

Gone are the days when Jack was unaware of anything bathroom-related. Now, he feels it’s his job, in the likeness of a herald, to announce to the general public what should be private.

Let’s just say that if you come to our house and go upstairs to use the restroom, Jack will announce to everyone in the living room:

“[Insert your name here] potty.”

He hears the subtle flush and knows that’s his cue. Same thing with showers.

So if you use the potty, shower, or accidentally pass gas, Jack will announce it for everyone to hear. He’s on Potty Patrol!

 

For the past several weeks now, he has been practicing using his toddler potty before bath time. He’s actually only gone twice out of dozens of attempts, but it’s not for a lack of trying.

As I sit in front of him, watching my naked son try to make some magic happen on the potty, I think, “He should be weirded out by me being right here.”

Instead, he appreciates the moral support.

But what’s funny is he always pulls up the bathroom rug to cover his feet while he tries. I don’t think his feet are cold, the bathroom rug just serves as a sort of good luck charm.

Last night, he was doing his normal potty ritual while my wife and I watched and rooted him on.

Without any prompting, he covered his nipples with his fingers, waddled his arms like he had chicken wings, and made a weird barking sound.

My wife immediately asked him, “What are you doing, Jack?”

His eagerly replied with a scrunched up nose and a tone of celebration in his voice:

“Snake!”

That was by far the most absurd and most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen or heard my son do. Ever.

I’ll never know how an unsolicited impression of a barking, wing-flapping, nipple-censored snake shows up in the midst of  watching your parents watch you try to use the potty; which for the record, remained empty after the snake impression.

I would say what happens in the bathroom, stays in the bathroom.

But then again, I’ve got a toddler who is on Potty Patrol.

 

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Why This Non-Metrosexual Dad Wants An Ironing Board For Christmas

October 21, 2012 at 11:43 pm , by 

23 months.

In this economy, it’s no secret that you should make yourself more valuable by learning new skills. The idea is to make yourself the go-to person for certain exclusive things.

I translate this same concept to the home life.

As the dad, one of my main exclusive roles is putting our son to sleep for all his naps and bedtimes. Without me, bedtime is not a simple event. It’s a long, drawn-out, nerve-racking experience.

Another thing I’m exclusively good at is transporting our son to and from daycare, being the mediator between his daycare teachers and my wife, and challenging our son both physically and kinetically during playtime.

While my wife and I share many duties, it’s really important to me that I do certain exclusive things.

This Christmas, I am planning on buying a foldable extendable ladder and a drill set. I want to increase my handyman skill set ASAP.

But wait, there’s more…

As the title infers, I also want an iron and an ironing board. Here’s my masculine reason why:

For my day job, where I am basically the Employee Relations Specialist, I assume the role of HR in the office. In other words, it’s very important that I present myself as very professional… above reproach.

I’ve always been the guy to wear ties and jackets to work anyway, even though I’m pretty much the only one who does. But now I feel that’s not good enough, in my own mind.

That’s because my clothes are a little on the wrinkled side.

I could easily convert a few of my “Sloppy Saturday” shirts, like the one I’m wearing in these pictures where I was made into a “Mummy” at my son’s daycare Open House over the weekend, into “Tidy Tuesday” shirts if they were simply ironed.

That’s not to put down by wife in any way. I can vouch for the fact that with all she does for our family, she definitely doesn’t have the time to iron, too.

Regardless, we don’t own an iron and an ironing board.

Even if we did, I want this job. I want ironing to be my thing in our household.

Call me a classic 1950′s American man, but I think men ought to care enough about their appearance not to represent themselves as slobs. There should be no shame in taking extra time to look handsome.

I’m thinking right now of those Men’s Wearhouse commercials: “You’re gonna like the way you look.”

As a non-metrosexual, I want to be like a former military guy who takes pride in his appearance enough to still iron his clothes like he had to when he was in the service.

Yes, I think it will be pretty cool to not only iron my own clothes for work, but to iron my wife’s clothes, and eventually, our son’s.

It’s pretty masculine if you ask me. I’m not turning into a “Mummy.” Instead, I’m manning up… once I get my iron and ironing board, that is.

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Kids Have Wonderful Imaginations… Because They Have To!

October 21, 2012 at 9:33 pm , by 

23 months.

If I was ever convicted of a heinous crime, I would rather be executed than to have to live out the rest of my life in prison.

Because I don’t deal with boredom well at all… unless I have an outlet.

Granted, I’m pretty confident I won’t suddenly decide to become a serial killer any time soon, so I really don’t have anything to worry about.

Hi. I’m Nick Shell and this is my positive and upbeat blog about fatherhood.

For a minute there you may have felt like you were on the wrong channel or at least that I’ve been watching too muchCSI or Shawshank Redemption.

Actually, that was my way of indirectly helping to remind us all for a minute what it was like to be bored as a kid.

To think of how my 23 month-old son has to remain strapped into a car seat for an hour each day…

How is he not bored out of his mind? I give him toys and books to occupy him, but those only help for so long.

In general, as a kid, you are dragged around by your parents, having to go wherever they take you, as you hope there will be something at least halfway interesting once you get there.

Our brains process loneliness as pain, as I learned from a National Geographic documentary on solitary confinement.

Often, loneliness and boredom go hand in hand.

So my theory is that children have to have good imaginations in order to survive childhood. It’s part of the process of growing stronger.

Tis the season for plentiful amounts of made-in-China Halloween toys.

Notice the Jack-o-lantern necklace Jack is wearing in the picture above.

He ran around the house this morning pretending it was shooting lasers, calling the sci-fi pumpkin weapon his “Orange Jake Ball.”

Evidently he forgot the word for pumpkin, but remembered that yesterday he painted pumpkins with his new friend Jake.

That’s a boy’s imagination alright.

And then there’s the rubber eyeball…

I made the mistake of letting him carry it upstairs with him during bath time. Needless to say, prying it out of his hand for bedtime was not an easy task:

“My eyeball!…”.

Jack was so excited this morning when we not only let him have some “fluffy” but also let him have his eyeball as part of the scenery.

This afternoon we walked to the community Fall Festival. Along the way, Jack found an Osage-Orange, also known as a hedge-apple.

Basically, it’s a strange brain-looking fruit that is inedible but is used in making insecticides.

Fortunately, Jack’s “yellow ball” along with his eyeball helped the two of us have a more legitimate presence in a social gathering where a good number of the people there were in Halloween costumes.

With his 2nd birthday coming up in a few weeks, I know he will be receiving some really cool Thomas & Friends die cast metal toys, because that’s what we’re getting for him.

But it’s good to know that even without real toys, Jack would manage just fine with a rubber eye ball, a pumpkin necklace, and a prehistoric fruit that looks like a brain.

Yes, kids have wonderful imaginations… because they have to!

That’s how they deal with living in a big, scary, unknown world.

Actually, that should give us adults every reason to keep our childlike imaginations.

I say that because I know, at least for me, the world I live in isn’t small, safe, or fully understandable.

 

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Parallel Play: Like An “It’s Complicated” Facebook Status

October 20, 2012 at 10:12 pm , by 

23 months.

Several times now, Jack has played with his new friend, Jake. Each time in the days that follow, Jack will randomly whine, “I want Jake…”.

I always instantly respond: “Really?!”

And when I say “Really?!” it has the tone of someone who is surprised in a peculiar way.

Jack’s friend Jake is a very kind, intelligent, and wonderful boy. It’s not that Jake isn’t cool, because he totally is.

The thing that’s weird about this is that when Jack and Jake play together, they don’t really play with each other.

Instead, they play somewhat away from each other, despite each other and around each other.

So really, it’s nearly a stretch to even say they actually play together.

After bringing this up to Jake’s mom today while our boys were painting pumpkins, she explained to me that this behavioral phase is called “Parallel Play.”

Cool, so it’s normal after all.

It’s just that with every other friend Jack plays with, it’s more of a thing where they spend half their time basically fighting over a toy and the other half laughing while chasing each other around.

With Jack and Jake, it’s like they have this mutual agreement:

“So listen, just let me attempt to have some ‘me time’ today even though you’re like 4 feet away from me. I’d really appreciate it. Nothing personal.

I’ll do my thing. You’ll do yours. Everybody’s happy. Thanks, man.”

After 3 play dates now, these two bosom buddies/perfect strangers have yet to look at each other in the eyes or communicate with each other in any way.

But that’s what Jack likes so much about Jake:

Jake gives Jack the piece of mind that he won’t be messed with. It’s mutual chill time for the two toddler dudes.

Needless to say, to the outsider, their friendship status is “It’s complicated.”

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Teaching My Son To Be Funny And Interesting, Because It Matters

October 20, 2012 at 3:25 pm , by 

23 months.

If you’re born an American male, then there is a subtle pressure for you to be funny and interesting. A famous quote by Marilyn Monroe backs this up:

“If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything.”

Well said.

When my wife and I randomly met in line at a taping for a concert in Nashville on October 5, 2006, I didn’t capture her attention by my looks.

Instead, I did it through my eccentric charm; which largely consists of telling off-beat real life stories, laced in deadpan humor, illustrated with dramatic hand motions which I subconsciously learned from my Italian grandfather while growing up.

Why is it that the majority of comedians and writers throughout history have been and still are men?

Because we sort of have to be both funny and interesting. I believe it’s part of survival of the fittest for men, in particular.

So now after 6 years of meeting my wife, we are raising a nearly 2 year-old son.

A son who will grow up needing to be both interesting and funny.

Needless to say, it is my role as the dad to teach him to become these things. The tricky part is making sure he’s not obnoxious instead.

A person who is too interesting is in danger of becoming nerdy and boring.

A person who is too funny is in danger of become distant and insensitive.

My son Jack has proven to me that he has the funny gene. So right now, I’m starting to be proactive in helping him direct his natural talent.

I don’t want Jack to be the little boy who thinks he’s funny just because certain people laugh when he does something they think is cute. For example, when a little boy goes up to strangers and says, “Hi!”

After the stranger replies, the boy becomes a broken record in an attempt to obtain a collection of repeat laughs: “Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!…”

That’s the worst.

The most important part of being interesting and funny is the timing and theatrics of the delivery.

I can see how even at just 23 months-old, when Jack does something funny like stick his thumb in applesauce, then look up at his Mommy and I and say, “Oh no!” like it’s some kind of tragic accident with a worried look on his face, he waits for us to laugh before he does.

That’s comedy in the making.