fatherhood

1 Comment Posted on car reviews, fatherhood, marriage, Storytelling, Uncategorized

This is 36: Taking Shifts with My Wife, As the Baby Sleeps in the Car

As you know, our family recently spent a week down in Destin, Florida for a family vacation over Memorial Day weekend. As you can imagine, with a 1 year-old little girl in tow, we largely had to base our schedule and activities around her sleep schedule.

For example, on the way down to Florida, we left our home in Tennessee immediately after an early dinner so that we could get to our condo in Destin by 1:30 AM. This created an environment for our daughter to be able to sleep through the entire drive. Granted, we only stopped once during the 7 hour trip for a bathroom break; to help ensure she didn’t wake up.

Since this formula proved effective, we did the same thing for the drive back home from Florida. That’s right- just 2 bathroom breaks during the 14 hour round trip.

Uh… impressed much?

We continued to cater to our daughter’s slumber throughout the course of our vacation.

One day we took a day trip over to Pensacola where one of my brothers-in law and his wife have recently moved. After we toured their new home which is currently under construction, everyone decided to walk through some of the model homes in the surrounding neighborhoods.

So my mother-in-law and her husband (who were also in town for the weekend), my brother-in-law, his wife, my wife, our son, our daughter, and I successfully toured two model homes.

But as we drove to the next neighborhood, our daughter had fallen asleep in just a matter of minutes. I volunteered to stay in the driver’s seat of the 2017 Toyota Prius Three as our daughter took her afternoon nap behind me in her car seat.

There in the driveway of that model home, I pulled out the classic 1984 Ride the Lightning album by Metallica to enjoy for myself. Fortunately, the symphonic distorted electric guitars helped keep my little girl asleep. She’s not too picky when it comes to music, yet.

Even after my wife and son returned from the tour of that model home, they returned to the car, only to inform me that there was yet one more model home to visit before we made our way back to Destin.

Honestly, I didn’t mind one bit. It was peaceful and relaxing for me. It gave me not only a chance to think, but a chance to help my wife out by giving her some time to see something new and exciting and to take a break from constantly caring for a baby.

Of course, it was no surprise that less than 24 hours, my wife would be taking the next shift of “chill out in the car while the baby sleeps.” Because for lunch the following day, as went out for Mexican food for lunch, our daughter had fallen asleep in the car.

So I took my wife’s order, then eventually brought her food to her roadside, while the rest of us ate inside the restaurant.

This is just how it has to be right now. We’re used to it.

This is 36.

1 Comment Posted on fatherhood, funny, parenting, Storytelling, Uncategorized

This is 36: How I Got Locked Outside of My House While Accidentally Wearing a Mustache

Tuesday afternoon my wife took our kids out to run an errand. We all had the day off, since we had just returned from our vacation to Florida. I decided to stay home while they were out, as it would give me about an hour and 20 minutes of uninterrupted time to finish unpacking from our trip.

The first order of business was actually to shave my beard. I had made a point not to shave while on vacation- just one less thing to worry about in my attempt to relax for a week in the sun.

I already had several days’ stubble before we even left for Destin, so by the time we got back nearly a week later, I had a decent beard going on.

But before I shaved it off, I decided to shoot a quick video for one of my YouTube channels, which caters to young men who are freaking out about seeing the first signs of hair loss. (Yes, I make a supplemental income from that; currently about $50 a month.)

I wanted to make a video which made it seem like people were demanding I grow a mustache, which is hilarious, because obviously a white guy under the age of 40 who isn’t a cop can’t get away with wearing a mustache.

So I shaved off everything but the mustache and walk outside, where there was better natural lighting, and began shooting the video; which again, was a complete joke in itself. I like to keep my 1500 YouTube subscribers on their toes.

 

But after I recorded the video, I realized I had locked myself out of the house. I knew it would be more than an hour before my wife came back home with the kids.

Then down came the rain, accompanied by some light thunder and lightning. And I was barefoot too.

At least I was able to find shelter on our covered front porch. Before my phone battery died, as I was down to about 15% at this point, I figured I might as well commemorate the occasion with a video explaining, behind the scenes, what had happened.

So there you go. That’s how I ended up locked outside of my own house, in the rain, barefoot, while accidentally wearing a mustache.

This is 36.

 

1 Comment Posted on fatherhood, parenting, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

Dear Holly: Making Super Mario Jump Sounds for Actual Words

1 year, 1 month.

Dear Holly,

Mommy and I both noticed the same thing about your hair over the past week or so. Not only is it getting thicker, but the red tint is transforming into a golden hue.

I’ve caught myself calling you Goldie here recently. It’s not that your hair is blonde. It’s more gold than it is yellow. It’s undeniably golden.

Your brother’s hair was never this color. When he was your age, his hair was light blonde. And now that he’s 6 and a half years old, it has transitioned into a sandy brown. But he never had a red or golden tint at any point.

So I wonder what color your hair will transition to by the time you’re his age.

Maybe I find this more fascinating that most parents would, but I am so amazed that those long lost Scottish and Irish genes in our family tree. The hidden recessive traits are making themselves known in you.

Something else going on with you these days is it’s becoming obvious you are getting eager to start talking. While your actual vocabulary is pretty much limited to “Dadda-dadda-dadda” (me) and “Mama-mama-mama” (Mommy) and “Jaah-ja-ja” (your brother), you are now making sounds in place of words.

These placeholder sounds like identical to Super Mario when he jumps, from the original 1985 Super Mario Bros. game: “Mah-mau?”

You’ll crawl over to one of your books, then bring it back to me, like a puppy. Then you hand it to me and say, “Mau? Mah-mau?”

The obvious translation is, “Well, Daddy, are you going to read me this book, or what?”

You also have a habit of crawling over to fruit pouches when you’re hungry, then looking to me: “Mau? Mah-mau?”

The obvious translation is, “Well, Daddy, you know what to do. It’s time for you to help me eat this.”

While I will be very happy for you when you can start using actual words from the English dictionary, I am thoroughly enjoying the Super Mario jump sounds in the meantime.

Love,

Daddy

1 Comment Posted on fatherhood, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

Dear Jack: You Love Taking Out the Garbage and Recycling

6 and a half years.

Dear Jack,

We keep the recycling bin pulled up to the side of our pack porch; that way, you get to toss our empty boxes and bags into it throughout the week. Then every Wednesday when I get home from work, you know what it’s time for: The dirty work!

You insist on opening the gate yourself, then wheeling the recycling bin from our back yard to the sidewalk in front of our house. Plus, you drag the garbage bin the same distance as well.

And the way our yard is designed, it’s a very long and skinny plot of land and there’s a sharp slope the whole way along that side of the house.

It’s quite a sight, since both the recycling bin and the garbage bin are much bigger and heavier than you. But honestly, you seem to do the job with more ease than even I can.

Of course, I always supervise, as I walk behind you to make sure you don’t slip on our slanted yard between our house and the next door neighbors.

But so far, you haven’t needed my assistance.

It’s funny because naturally, trash duty will be an official chore of yours when you get a little older. I love it that you already enjoy doing it.

In fact, there was one week where I just went ahead of moved the bins when I came home, because it was about to rain, and you actually got upset that you didn’t get to do it.

Obviously, you also take the empty bins back behind our house on Thursday as well. But I can tell that’s not as much fun for you, since there’s no challenge in transporting a much heavier load.

I am impressed with your garbage man skills. Lucky for me, you like doing the work.

Love,

Daddy

1 Comment Posted on fatherhood, funny, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

This is 36: My Back Yard is Constantly Littered with Plastic Grocery Bags Filled with Poopy Diapers

It makes perfect sense, I’m sure. Actually, I’m confident that my story is not unique. It’s pretty simple and (assumedly) universal, really:

When our 1 year-old daughter has a poopy diaper, we reach for a plastic Kroger bag from underneath the kitchen sink, using it has an insulator for the smell. Then, without fail, I open up the back door and toss it towards the garbage bin near our fence.

Every couple of days, I have to take out a big bag of trash anyway. That’s when I pick up the 2 or 3 bags of poop to place them in the garbage bin.

What’s the point in walking out to the garbage bin every single time my daughter has a dirty diaper? That doesn’t work for the lifestyle of the Shell household. It wouldn’t be prudent.

On a daily basis, when we’re all home together, my wife is constantly running around the house in the midst of cooking meals and doing laundry, while I am constantly entertaining and occupying not only our daughter, who isn’t quite walking yet, but I am also doing my best to make sure our 6 and a half year-old son is keeping himself productive in some sort of activity.

It’s not worth the time to run outside for the sake of a dirty diaper that is already inside of a plastic bag. I’ve got too many duties that relentlessly need my attention, inside the house.

Besides, our yard is fenced in. It’s not like the neighbors can see the dirty diaper bags; not unless they specifically go upstairs in their homes then look over to our yard.

That would just be nosy.

Therefore, it remains one of our family secrets.

No one can see, so no one can know.

It’s not like I’m posting pictures of the dirty diaper bags on the Internet, bringing attention to it.

This is 36.