Jack’s New Cousin has Arrived!

June 23, 2011 at 11:01 pm , by 

Seven months.

A new character joined the cast of The Dadabase this week…

I’ve been mentioning that my sister, Dana, and her husband, Andrew, have been expecting their first child: due July 2nd.  Well, July 2nd came early this year… because at 2:07 AM this Tuesday morning (June 21st), my sister gave birth to her baby girl.  She weighs 6.1 pounds and is 19.5 inches long.

Jack has always been a big boy and he’s all I know when it comes to babies.  After seeing and holding my sister’s newborn daughter, it is apparent she will always be a petite little girl.  How appropriate- she will have a strong, protective cousin to watch out for her; even if the two cousins never really look anything alike.

On my side of the family, the only cousins Jack will have are through my sister and her husband, since I don’t have another sibling.  (Of course, this is not the case with my wife’s side of the family, since she is number 9 of 10 kids!) So this is Jack’s first cousin through the Shell side of the family and this means I am officially an uncle, through blood.

For the past seven months, my brother-in-law Andrew has filled the typical uncle role.  He knows how to make Jack laugh better than anyone else. He’s the fun uncle.  Now, I get to be a fun(ny) uncle to his daughter.

Have you noticed yet that I haven’t given the name of Jack’s new cousin?  If not, that means I’m doing a good job of my goal.  Whereas I plaster Jack’s name all over every post I write and have no reservations in making it public, I respect my sister and her husband’s decision to keep their daughter’s name semi-private; meaning I don’t include it on The Dadabase.

It makes me wonder, though, in the likeness of the name “Emma” gaining popularity because of the sitcom Friends, if the name would at all increase in popularity if it was featured in a Parents.com blog.  Because right now the name is virtually unused- the last time it even made an appearance on any kind of popularity chart was the 1880’s.

“Emma” was the 13th most popular girl’s name in 2001.  Then the following year Rachel named her daughter Emma on Friends.  Unsurprisingly, Emma was the 4th most popular girl’s name of 2002.  And every year since then, it has either been the 1st, 2nd, or 3rd most popular girl’s name.

Well I know I can pull this off.  I can feature Jack’s new cousin in my stories without ever saying her name or even using her initials.  It wasn’t until I had seen the movie Fight Club about a dozen times before I realized that you never actually know the narrator and main character’s name.

So this won’t be the first time a story is told without revealing a main character’s name.  What actually matters are the stories.  And for a guy who never suffers from writer’s block, I know I can provide the stories.

Unnecessary Bonus:

To cut down on reader confusion in regards to the resemblance that my brother-in-law Andrew (featured two pictures above this one) and I share,  I shaved my head this week. People are constantly mistaking us for each other.  So I hope the buzz cut helps.

That’s not really why I did it.  I mainly just liked the idea of saving 15 bucks instead of paying for a real haircut.  Plus, I probably subconsciously wanted to be as cool as Bachelorette contestant J.P. Rosenbaum.

A Parent Obsessed with Constructive Criticism

June 22, 2011 at 10:24 pm , by 

Seven months.

I am fixated on being the best version of myself I can be; especially when it comes to being a parent.  So I seriously wonder if anyone else in the world is as excited as I am to receive constructive criticism?

baby hat Good HousekeepingIt’s nearly hilarious how in the unsupervised playground of the blog comments world, some adults instantly become childish.  Some are only there to pick fights with either the author or other commenters, trigger-happy to name-call a random stranger; including but not limited “idiot,” “moron,” and “naive.”  If these blog comment snipers can find an angle to make another person look less intelligent than they are, it evidently gives the blog comment sniper a feeling of superiority.

There is a school of thought among some blog authors that by allowing these dog fights to occur in the comment section of their post, it will at least help drive traffic to their site- therefore, nearly anything in the comments section is allowed.  Well, I am not one of those blog authors and this is not one of those kinds of blogs.  If a comment is malicious, condescendingly sarcastic, or deconstructive, I simply won’t approve it.  Just because we are in the seemingly imaginary avatar world of the blogosphere, it doesn’t mean that the tradition of treating people with respect should disappear.

Note: So far, out of 102 posts here on The Dadabase, no one has left an inappropriate or disrespectful comment, so thanks for being cool!

I do allow comments with constructive criticism; just not deconstructive criticism. In fact, as the title’s message conveyed, I love and appreciate constructive criticism.

Constructive criticism truly never hurts my feelings or makes me feel bad about myself.  I never take it personally.  Because I am constantly overly aware that in each area of my life, there is still room for improvement.  I depend on people telling me exactly how to improve- whether it’s what I do at work, at home, relationships with people, etc. So while I don’t go around fishing for constructive criticism, I always am excited to hear it. Because it means I get to become better at something.

baby in overallsHowever, constructive criticism means giving specific advice.  If I am told, “You need to work on this,” without being given exact instruction on how to get better, I will in that case, get offended and frustrated. That would be an insult because the person is not respecting me enough to tell me exactly how to help myself.

I live by the belief that if you’re willing to bring up a problem to another person, you need to A) provide a proposed solution and/or B) ask that person to help you find one.

The way I see the world, everyday is filled with constructive criticisms anyway- whether or not it is spoken to me directly by another person.  In fact, much of what I deem “constructive criticism” is actually just daily observational self-teaching. Sometimes it’s little things I observe in my social interactions; like what not to say in a conversation, after receiving a weird look from another person, or an awkward moment of silence. Sometimes it’s learning a better way to interact with my son as he is going through a new phase.  Or learning a quicker way to rock him to sleep.

Each morning when I wake up, it’s like there’s an invisible scorecard that pops up in my head.  It consists of a dozen little empty boxes, ready to be checked off each time I learn something new about myself.  If I don’t learn anything constructive that day, then subconsciously I feel that day has been wasted.  I thrive on constructive criticism; it gives me a sense of validation.

baby puppyWhen someone has the guts to be bold enough to teach me how to improve at anything, I feel an enormous amount of respect for that person.  Why get offended if someone tells me that I have a black bean skin stuck on my tooth?  Instead, I would thank them and respect them for letting me know.  But the importance of constructive criticism doesn’t just apply to after-lunch moments. For me, it applies to all situations in which my world can be improved.

Call it a superhero type of ability, but I literally am immune to being hurt by any criticism that’s constructive.  There is not one tiny fiber anywhere in my body that is the least bit injured when I learn to do something better than the way I’ve been doing it.

I’ve asked other people about how they perceive constructive criticism and some have told me though it would be unwise to ignore good advice, they feel disappointed in themselves for not already doing it the best way to begin with. While I do recognize that as a valid way to feel and while I try to empathize, I simply can’t relate to that mindset.  Because I evidently am wired weird and it seems most people I’ve talked to can not relate to how my mind works regarding this issue.  So I fully acknowledge that I’m weird for thinking the way I do.

Yes, it’s an obsession of mine, but I have to know that I am the best man I can be. I see it as a frivolous goal to try to be better than any other person.  So as a father and husband, I’m not competing with other men.  I am competing with myself.  I am in competition with tomorrow’s version of myself, because tomorrow’s version is more improved than today’s version.  So the one person I am trying to better than is me.

I’m not a perfectionist.  That to me, would be a waste of my energy.  I’m not chasing that magical unicorn of perfection.  I just want to be better than myself and I refuse to let any amount of pride or self-conservation get in the way of that.

BONUS- Wikipedia’s definitions of the two major kinds of criticism:

Constructive criticism aims to show that the intent or purpose of something is better served by an alternative approach. In this case, the target of criticism is not necessarily deemed wrong, and its purpose is respected; rather, it is claimed that the same goal could be better achieved via a different route.

Negative criticism (or deconstructive criticism, as I call it) means voicing an objection to something only with the purpose of showing that it is simply wrong, false, mistaken, nonsensical, objectionable, disreputable or evil. Negative criticism is also often interpreted as an attack against a person.

The Trinity of Father, Son, and Saintly Mother

June 21, 2011 at 8:56 pm , by 

Seven months.

What does your “art” tell about what you value?

baby dedication

While earning my English degree at Liberty University, I was taught in my “World History of Art” class that artists honor what they value through the subject matter of their work: If a caveman etched an outline of himself clubbing a stegosaurus to death, it meant that he prided himself in his abilities to provide dinner for his village.

This “art equals value” concept can apply to many different areas in our lives; even without it officially being art.  One of the most obvious examples is my desk at work.  I keep things pretty tidy; not a whole lot of decoration. But the little bit of flare I do have points to the same central theme: my wife and son.

My computer’s screen saver is a picture of my wife holding Jack, as is the background on my cell phone.  My coffee mug is one that my wife customized for me on Shutterfly, featuring Jack.  Sitting on my desk is a small framed family portrait.  Hanging on my “food shelf” is a paper-clipped wallet size of Jack when he was just a week old.  On my other shelf is a framed “Happy 30th Birthday, Daddy!” certificate made with Jack’s inked hands.

So in essence, everyday is “Take Your Kid to Work Day.”  No matter which direction I am looking while at my desk, I see my son.  And of course my wife as well.  Because obviously, they are what I value the most; always on my mind and in my heart.

The three of us are sort of like our own trinity; all separate entities yet paradoxically one in the same.  I will always be a part of my son and he will always be a part of me; you can’t get the son without getting the father and you can’t get the father without getting the son.

The Dadabase

The Dadabase

The same goes with my wife; neither Jack nor I are complete without her.  We are one intertwined family unit.

Even when I am physically away from Jack and Jill during the day, it doesn’t change the closeness we share.  And I guard that closeness with all my time, all my heart, all my soul, all my strength, and all my mind.

So that neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, not even Facebook nor cell phones ringing during dinner time, may separate us from the love we share.  Our family bond goes beyond a marriage covenant and shared bloodline.  It’s literally out of this world.

sleeping baby

 

The Magically Entertaining Wooden Spoon and Other “Toys”

Seven months.

Luv's diapers

What interesting “toys” does your baby get to play with?

By now it’s nearly cliché to point out the irony in a kid getting more enjoyment out of the cardboard box that a toy is packaged in rather than the actual toy itself. So I won’t. But similarly, I will point out a few other seemingly mundane household items that currently serve as Jack’s greatest form of entertainment.

baby and air vent

His biggest fascination is with air vents; whether or not air is actually coming out of them.  I suppose that to him, he gets a thrill out of the anxiety of wondering at which exact moment the cold air will suddenly begin blowing on his face and through his hair.  Jack hovers over and around the air vent like it’s some magical wishing well, about to grant him his wish of an instant set of teeth in which he could use to eat veggie pizza with his parents.  Or at least a masculine unicorn to ride on.

The Dadabase

But for the times that Jack prefers a more hands-on experience, there is the amazing wooden spoon!  Thanks to my wife’s creative thinking, Jack now has a wondrous multipurpose toy that can be used for the following:

1) Jack can use to the handle to repeatedly ram his leg, while joyously smiling.

2) Jack can use the head of the spoon to repeatedly hit himself in the forehead, again, while joyously smiling.

3) Jack can pretend the wooden spoon is a Popsicle, tasting its delicious wooden flavor.

4) Jack can practice his self-invented stunt of attempting to crawl while carrying the spoon in one hand.

5) Jack can wave the wooden spoon around in the air like he’s conducting a choir of enchanted kittens.

crawling baby

Should Jack ever tire of the wooden spoon, there is always the back-up plan.  Yes, the paper towel roll.  While Jack can basically use it in the same ways he uses the spoon, he can additionally become mesmerized by watching me put the paper towel roll to my mouth to make weird falsetto humming noises through it; like a giant kazoo.  It works similar to the way Indian men charm snakes.

I am a certified baby charmer.

And fortunately, Jack is like a cat in that he can entertain himself with nearly any random household object.  The question is, who is more entertained by the magical wooden spoon and its other glorious counterparts?  My infant son for finding entertainment value in it,  or me for finding entertainment value in watching him find entertainment value in it?

The Dadabase

The Dadabase

P.S. As I post this, my sister is in labor with her first child.  Jack’s about to get a new cousin!  And I’m about to be an uncle for the first time, through blood.

We’re Our Own Paparazzi and TMZ Show

June 19, 2011 at 9:17 pm , by 

Seven months.

The Dadabase

Anywhere we go with our son, my wife and I also take our four year old digital camera.  Between the two of us, we always have to be prepared to take a shot of Jack doing something for the first time.  Or we have to provide proof of just how cool he looks in that moment.

As I was recently making creepy lizard faces at my son to make him laugh, I shared with my wife the realization that Jack won’t actually remember any of this.He won’t remember me pushing him around in a diaper box.  Or my wife pretending to be a chicken.  It hit me that all our crazy antics we do to entertain our son end up amusing the two of us just as much as they do him- but only we will actually remember it the next day.

Jack in the Box

My sister’s memory began when she was one and a half years old (in 1985) and mine began in 1983 (on my 2nd birthday.)  Based on what I learned in Childhood Psychology in college, my sister and I are the exception to the rule to have a memory that began “recording” that early.  But even when Jack’s long-term memory does kick in, there will only be random memories that stay with him for life.

But I guess that’s the way our entire lives are: We only remember certain memories, frozen in the nostalgic part on our brains, sometimes disguising themselves as dreams from childhood.

If you are the only person to remember an event happening years after it occurs, you hold the exclusive rights to it occurring. In theory, it only happened because you remember it.  If you ever forget it, then it’s technically the same as it if it never happened, especially if no one else was there to notice the event happening: Especially ifthere were no photographs or videos taken of the event.

As one of the main photographers and the official journalist (daddy blogger) of Jack’s early years, I am preserving these otherwise forgotten details.  These stories won’t just be simply contained in the memories of my wife and I, but they will be waiting for Jack to learn about when he gets older.

Parents magazine

In the title I proclaimed that my wife and I are our son’s own paparazzi and TMZ show.  But that concept is a universal one; it doesn’t just apply to us because I publicly journal my son’s life in a blog on Parents.com.

In an age where Facebook photo albums have replaced actual photo albums like our parents had to put together for us, chances are if you are tech savvy enough to be reading a parenting blog, you can relate to the allusions to being your own paparazzi and TMZ show for your kids and family.

funny baby

P.S. This is my 100th post here on The Dadabase!  You can start from the beginning or catch up on anything you missed in between: Just click on the archives on the right side of the screen.  They go all the way back to when we first found out we were having a baby.

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