My Life Is Currently A Thomas The Train Wreck

October 9, 2012 at 10:18 pm , by 

22 months.

“Whoo-whoo. Whoo-whoo. Crash!”

That’s Jack’s understanding of what trains are supposed to do, thanks to his current obsession, Thomas & Friends.

It’s the first TV show that he will watch for more than 3 minutes at a time.

I have to admit—it took some getting used to: It’s a weird format consisting of puppetry and storytelling, perfectly narrated by Alec Baldwin, of all people.

As an American, it become obvious to me from the beginning that Thomas & Friends is based off of a British book series.

The first thing that gave it away was how it seems that in every episode one of the trains gets “cross” with another, puffing away perturbed. (Though he eventually apologizes for his uncivilized behavior.)

I also laughed out loud one time when Alec Baldwin, who gives voice to all the different characters, including the rare female ones, told two of the other trains, “Stop gossiping!”

In modern American culture, for one man to tell two other men to stop gossiping would be like calling them girls, to put it mildly.

So this is basically my impression of my son’s new favorite TV show: Every episode consists of trains getting “cross” at each other about the loads they are hauling and then gossiping with each other, or one of the trains gets too prideful and crashes off a cliff. Then apologizes to Sir Topham Hatt about it.

And that explains why when Jack plays with his Sir Handel and Percy trains, he says, “Whoo-whoo. Whoo-whoo. Crash!”

I dig it, though. I do.

In fact, maybe I dig it a little too much:

These days I’m a tad bit distracted thinking about Jack’s die cast metal Thomas the Train collection; the ones designed for the Take-n-Play sets. For his 2nd birthday next month, we bought him a Rumbling Gold Mine set, which comes with the actual Thomas train.

So that means Jack will have Sir Handel, Percy, and Thomas. But now Jack’s favorite character seems to be the ever-so-moody Gordon.

Plus, there’s a character called Jack. How can I not get him Jack?

Not to mention, Jack is enthralled by fire trucks, and there is character called Flynn, who is a fire truck.

I care way too much about my son’s growing die cast metal Thomas & Friends collection.

This weekend I asked him, “Jack, do you want Harold the Helicopter?”

He instantly replied, “No.”

Bummer. For me.

With that being said, it should be no surprise that my wife and I have the same ring tone for when we call each other. You guessed it:

The theme song to Thomas & Friends.

Yes, we really are that cool.

(My wife even made a “practice birthday cake” in the form of a train this past weekend. When you look at it upside down, it sort of looks like a bear.)

Without a doubt, Jack’s birthday will be saturated in the Thomas & Friends theme.

Good thing he’s a boy. It seems like there’s no cool girl equivalent to Thomas the Train.

At least, there’s not one quite as obsessive.

Giving Deliberate “I’m Married” Vibes, As Necessary

Taking My Toddler Out For Coffee… I Mean, “Fluffy”

October 5, 2012 at 12:22 am , by 

22 months.

When you’re a vegetarian, with a toddler, it’s beyond pointless to “go out to eat.”

Can I pay $12 for pasta with veggies while my antsy toddler battles a meltdown because he’s strapped into a chair in a crowded, public place?

Ah, thanks, but no thanks.

So instead, we go out for coffee. Yes, four dollar coffee.

And no, we’re not impressed thatMcDonald’s won the blind taste test for its coffee or whatever.

We actually own an espresso maker, but part of the fun in fancy coffee is having someone else make it for you.

By now, it’s pretty much our tradition on Saturday mornings to start out the day right at a new place in Nashville called The Well.

(It’s actually a non-profit joint that buys clean water for people in the world who don’t have access to it.)

As you can see in the picture above, we get our son Jack a serving of whipped cream.

He calls it his “fluffy.”

Of course, we also tend to make an appearance at that other place you may have heard of, Starbucks. In fact, anytime we drive by one, Jack recognizes the green and white logo and says, “I want fluffy!”

Usually, he gets his fluffy. Because that means we get our coffee.

Part of the allure of coffee shops is the laid back, jazz-infused, sophisticated atmosphere. It puts us the parents, as well as, our toddler son at ease.

Getting coffee (and fluffy) helps us to remember it’s the weekend, amongst all the catching up we have to do during those two days.

Jack can get away with exploring the inside of a lazy coffee shop much more easily than he could a busy restaurant.

Plus, he loves it because it’s the only time we ever let him eat anything with sugar in it.

So needless to say, he quietly enjoys his fluffy; no discipline required while we’re there.

He’s pretty Joe Cool about it.

Oh Wait… Are We Helicopter Parents? (Part 2)

October 4, 2012 at 9:56 pm , by 

This is the continuation of Oh Wait… Are We Helicopter Parents? (Part 1)…

We live in a townhouse with a staircase leading up to our son’s room. A while back we used to talk about getting a “baby gate” to keep Jack from crawling up the stairs or falling down them.

But looking back now, we just haven’t got around to it, and I figured out why:

My wife and I have this default policy that we never let Jack wander into the next room without us.

But as little as he actually gets to see us, he doesn’t want to be in a room alone anyway.

So anytime Jack wants to climb up the stairs, one of us is right there with him, ready to brace his fall if he stumbles.

Sure, we let him run around free, outside. But only in a park, and we’re casually chasing him. Or in a racquetball court.

We love to see Jack explore the free world, as long as we’re right there with him the whole time.

I’ll say this: My parents were definitely not helicopter parents. Mainly because back in 1983 when I was Jack’s age, I wasn’t curious enough to try to stick car keys into an electrical socket.

That’s not to say Jack doesn’t know the concept of danger or has no real concept of boundaries, because he completely does.

But maybe he’s just a more curious kid than I ever was, and as his parent, I am overly aware of this.

Are my wife and I helicopter parents? I don’t know.

I’ll let you decide, based on what you’ve read about our style. I suppose it takes a third party to decide that.

But really, what does it take to qualify someone as a helicopter parent, anyway?

It’s not like Jeff Foxworthy has a joke series called “You might be a helicopter parent if…”.

That’s where you come in.

I would love your feedback on helping me get some good stereotypes, I mean, examples, of helicopter parents.

In fact, I think it would be pretty cool to write an article called “7 Token Signs You’re A Helicopter Parent.”

Okay, go…

 

Oh Wait… Are We Helicopter Parents? (Part 1)

October 4, 2012 at 9:46 pm , by 

22 months.

Recently at my son’s daycare, I was asked by a fellow parent, “I’ve noticed you carry Jack out everyday instead of walking him out like the rest of us. Why is that?”

I didn’t know what to say.

Honestly, I had never thought about it before. I didn’t realize I was weird for not letting my son, who is now nearly half my height, to walk out to the car while holding my hand.

One answer that came to mind was that it’s too much trouble to get out of the building and into the car with him walking in the midst of distractions; that it’s just easier to carry him out.True…

But really, now that I’ve thought about it, I’d say the main reason I carry my nearly 2 year-old son into and out of day care each day is because it’s one of the rare times he actually likes me to be physically close to him; aside from wrestling him.

In other words, if you’re familiar with the book, The 5 Love Languages, my son’s is not physical touch.

However, he does this new thing now where as soon as I pick him up and start walking with him, he pats me on the back. It’s really sweet of him.

(I can’t believe I just said the word sweet. That’s so not my style.)

When I carry my son around, it’s like our designated “buddy time,” I guess.

But yes, it’s completely unnecessary, given that he’s been walking since I can’t remember.

So while it could just be that I enjoy our “man cuddle” time, yeah I know that sounds weird, it could be hinting at the fact that possibly, maybe, I might be a helicopter parent.

Let me unpack this theory, out loud.

When I think of the annoying phrase “helicopter parents,” it never has a positive connotation.

I think immediately of attachment parenting; something I never want to be associated with.

Why? Because I never want to be (or be seen as) an extremist, of any kind.

And when I think of helicopter parents, I think of extreme parents who are “a bit out there.”

With your feedback along with my self-analysis, I am going to try to figure out if my wife and I could possibly be considered helicopter parents.

You decide, after reading “Oh Wait… Are We Helicopter Parents? (Part 2).”