Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Spirituality

These Are The Longest Days And Shortest Years Of Our Lives

May 1, 2012 at 12:09 am , by 

17 months.

The thing I like most about my seven gray hairs is that they stick straight out like a wire, making them effortless to pluck out every 60 days.

Sure, these recently arrived strays are a sign that I’ve lived on this planet for over three decades now. But they also surely serve as proof that I’ve been a parent for nearly a year and a half.

Since becoming a dad, my concept of time has been greatly compromised. Today I had to ask myself what month it is, not knowing if it were summer or fall or winter; as if the Tennessee heat and humidity didn’t give it away. Turns out, it’s spring.

But what’s the difference?

These are the longest days and shortest years of my life. In a sense, I almost don’t even know what that means. But in some simple, clever, yet abstract way, I totally get it.

All I know is I spend most of my hours doing the things that I don’t want to do, so I can afford the few hours of the day (or of the week) doing the things I actually enjoy.

The majority of my hours at my “real job” in an office are spent either finding ways to stay busy so that I don’t realize how bored out of my mind I am, or it’s the exact opposite: I’m “swamped”  and stressed and on top of that, regularly criticized that my work isn’t good enough. (The Dadabase is my 2nd job; not my office job.)

Then let’s consider life when I’m not “working.”

There’s the transporting and taking care of my son, there’s the cleaning up of dishes after dinner, there’s mandatory chill out time  with my wife… which currently means finishing Season 3 of Lost. And there’s catching up with my wife and making sure we have some quality time and conversations aside from our chill out/entertainment time.

Most of my life is spent earning an income. Next is my time with my family; being a dad and a husband. Last and least is the concept of “me time.”

Alongside all this organized chaos is a little blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy who likes to show me his newest magic trick each day; like last week when Jack carefully placed each macaroni shell on his finger like it’s a fingernail, before eating it. (I entitle the picture above “Jack-N-Cheese.”)

He serves as one of the few reminders for me that life is actually moving forward as he’s growing up and becoming more independent everyday. (That’s why each post starts out by telling how old he is.)

Meanwhile, I often feel like I’m just living life in front of a green screen that loops the same tired footage as the day before.

So what can I do? I make as much as I can with what little time I do have to spend with my family and what I enjoy doing; in order feel alive and creative and set apart in this world.

This life can be consuming in its mundaneness; not to mention how hard it is to simply making a living and not worry about how I am going to support my family and myself throughout the future.

What is the meaning of life? To give life meaning.

“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

― John Milton, Paradise Lost

 

1 Comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

Do All Little Boys Naturally Know To Make Car Sounds?

May 1, 2012 at 12:02 am , by 

17 months.

If it has wheels, Jack has to get his hands on it. And when he does, he always imitates a motor sound: “Vvvrroooo…”. Not to mention the sounds of screeching tires every couple of seconds.

But where did he learn this? Not from me.

The first time he picked up a toy with wheels and rolled it across the floor, he knew to make motor sounds. It was as if that knowledge were incepted into his brain.

Sure, it’s very possible he learned to do this at daycare.

However, my wife has talked to other fellow moms whose sons don’t attend daycare and still made “car sounds” the moment they started playing with their first toy car.

So I wonder: Do all little boys naturally know to make car sounds?

A couple of weekends ago, we were at Walmart (which for us, is extremely rare and random) and Jack started running toward a toy display. Without hesitation, he picked up a black and burgundy street racer; the kind of car you’d see featured on The Fast And The Furious 7 or whatever sequel they’re up to now.

“You want that car, Jack? That’s a cool-looking one.” I looked at the “roll back” price of 88 cents. “Yeah son, we’ll get you that car.”

Jill and I both seemed to have this fun parenting moment as we headed over to the check-out counter and realized, “Hey, our boy likes cars now. We’re officially at that stage.”

As you can see in the picture below, he’s really proud of his very first Hot Wheels car.

He dines with it: One hand holds the spoon while the other holds the toy car. He takes it with him whenever we leave the house. He even sleeps with it; clenched tightly in his hand,next to Elmo.

It’s amazing how many “battle scars” that car already has on it. You would think he ran it through gravels, the way the paint is already etching off.

If I’m lucky, by Christmas he’ll be ready for one of those awesome Hot Wheels racing tracks where we can find out which of his cars are really the fastest and the most furious.

Naturally, car sounds will be made by both father and son.

 

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

When Jack Met Elmo: A Bromantic Comedy

April 27, 2012 at 11:33 pm , by 

17 months.

It all started when my wife Jill made up a bedtime song for Jack, which featured that famous furry red monster on Jack’s diaper.

From there, Jack  started asking for Elmo by name; though his pronounced version sounded more like “M’elmo.”

Jack has a plush alien toy that he halfway assumed was Elmo (featured above), but I wasn’t able to put that off very long. Once that proved to be a bust, Jack started falling asleep  in his crib while holding an Elmo diaper; the kind featured below.

Plus, whenever he saw a pictures of frogs in a book, though he knew the actual word frog, he started citing them, “Elmo?”

We decided it was time to buy him a small, simple, licensed Elmo doll. But actually finding one proved to be as about as difficult as finding aTickle Me Elmo during the Christmas of 1996.

You would think finding a simply plush Elmo doll under 10 bucks would be pretty easy. Nope.

Last Sunday afternoon we travelled to Walmart, Babies “R” Us, and Target. While they did have the 9 inch tall Grover as well as some yellow mohawked version of Telly for $7.99, none of the stores had Elmo!

Thanks to Amazon.com, Jill was able to find Elmo for double the proper price, by the time shipping was thrown in.

I’ll go ahead and say it: We became “those parents” during the three days it to took for Elmo to arrive.

It was the kind of material that would have made for yet another clever episode of the flawless TV show, Up All Night.

Throughout the Elmo anticipation, Jill would text me updates on where Elmo was at that moment:

Jill: “The tracking # shows Elmo is leaving Sarasota today!”

Me: “Wow! That’s great news. Can’t wait to see Jack’s reaction…”

I kept reminding myself of the possible reality that when the “real Elmo” finally arrived, Jack might not be that impressed.

Well, it’s only been a few days since the moment Jack officially met Elmo (featured right) and I think it’s safe to say that we made a solid $15 investment.

After all, Elmo already has a spaghetti sauce stain on his eyes. Jack has to be holding Elmo at all times in the car, during meals, and in his crib.

So, how will Jack and Elmo’s bromantic friendship flourish? Well, just keep an eye on how many pictures in upcoming Dadabase posts feature Elmo somewhere in view.

That’s how we’ll know.

At this point, I don’t believe Jack really understands why he’s supposed to love Elmo so much; but if for no other reason than to appease his hip parents.

He just goes along with it.

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

The Bookworm In My Back Seat

April 25, 2012 at 11:11 pm , by 

17 months.

Jack loves reading. In other words, he loves looking at the pages of a book for the purpose of identifying the animals so that he can make their appropriate sounds.

The book he is currently obsessed over isThe Beginner’s Bible; a children’s cartoon version of the stories in the Bible. Why does he insist of reading it all the way to daycare and back everyday? Because he’s just that spiritual of a toddler? Or…

To practice his animal sounds.

A couple of minutes into the car ride each day, I hear “Sssssss…”. That means Jack sees a picture of Satan, as a serpent, tempting Adam and Eve with the forbidden fruit.

Five minutes later, it’s “Bzzzzzz…”. Yeah, that’s the Seven Plagues on Egypt; the gnats and lice to be exact.

I’ll hear various spurts of “Pffffttt…”. That would be Jack’s very impressive impression of what a camel sounds like: There are plenty of random pictures of men riding camels throughout the book.

Eventually I hear “bah-bah,” Jack’s version of a donkey, which means Jesus is making his triumphal entry into Jerusalem… on a donkey, of course.

And then for the rest of the book, there aren’t so many animals anymore; mainly just bearded men in robes talking to each other.

Each time Jack gets to this point, he just starts laughing.

It took me a solid week to figure out what was so funny. I’m pretty sure it’s because Jack has never seen a man in real life with a big bushy beard.

So he’s laughing at the brown sheep’s butts on men’s faces. Or, beards, as we recognize them in the non-cartoon world.

Yes, my toddler son leads his own Bible study twice a day in the back seat of my car. Technically.

Welcome to Back Seat Baptist Church.

 

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

Teaching Coping Skills To My Toddler

April 24, 2012 at 10:03 pm , by 

17 months.

I’ve heard several fellow critics ofmedicating kids for ADHD say that those children never really learn to cope with their problems; therefore explaining why 23% of the 6 million plus children currently on these untested-yet-FDA-approved psychiatric drugs go on to test positive as bipolar.

Actually, I never really thought of it before, but yes, at some point a child needs to learn coping skills. But how and when?

Leave it to me, Mr. Overkill, but for the past couple of weeks now, I’ve been deliberately teaching “coping skills” to my 17 month-old toddler.

My son Jack is in a stage now where he is testing me on whether I will help him when he doesn’t actually need my help.

For example, he will roll his Hot Wheels car underneath the couch where he can still reach it, but he will whine and look at me, as if I should save the day. He hears the same thing from me each time:

“Son, use your coping skills. You can reach it.”

Similarly, I recently helped Jack harness his bravest coping skills to learn how to pull himself up on our coffee table. It’s now a new hang-out spot; along with the fridge.

Other times, he whines about something neither he nor I can control. Like when I’m driving him home and he drops his book on the floor.

“Son, use your coping skills. There is nothing we can do about your toy until we get home.”

The simplicity of what I am hoping to teach him is this: I will help you unless A) you can figure out a way to deal with it yourself or B) it’s something no one can control.

I guess ultimately, my “coping skills” concept is a blatant rip-off of the famous Serenity Prayer:

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.”

If you are familiar with The Dadabase, then you know I am a huge advocate of letting your infant “cry it out” in order to sleep through the night. While Jack has been sleeping through the night for the past 10 months of his 17 month long life, he still tests me during his weekend naps.

You guessed it: I say it all comes down to coping skills.

“Son, use your coping skills. I’ve wrapped you up in this blanket and held you for a minute. You’re very tired and you know you need sleep. I’m setting you down in your bed now and you’re going to learn to fall asleep on your own.”

He “copes” for about 5 minutes then he’s asleep.

My son will experience a life full of “no’s.” Whether it’s me, his friends, his teachers, future employers, and even God Himself.

I know this because at age 31, I’m still struggling with my own coping skills.