Nostalgia

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Step 1: Obtain New Toy, Step 2: Cover It In Play-Doh

October 21, 2013 at 9:53 pm , by 

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

When you were much younger, you would break in a new toy (or any random object) by putting it in your mouth.

These days, you instead cover the new toy or object in Play-Doh.

It’s the initation process, in your world.

While I napped for 20 minutes in the Kroger parking lot, like a rock, you were inside the grocery store helping Mommy.

When the two of you came back to the car, you had a new Hot Wheels ’67 Camaro in your hands:

“Look, Daddy! I got a new race car!”

We were home within 10 minutes and the first thing you did was to have me set up your play table and get out your red Play-Doh.

Why?

To cover your brand-new car in slime, or mud, or whatever it is you pretend that Play-Doh is.

It wasn’t until hours later that I actually got to see your new toy, because it was consumed by a red blob for its first waking hours.

Sure, Play-Doh can be used to make dinosaurs and animals and balls to roll around.

But ultimately, it’s used as an element of nature.

You get a quirky sense of pleasure out of swallowing your new toys in Play-Doh. Like I said, it’s the initiation process.

Mommy and I actually got to quietly eat dinner in the living room Saturday night, as you were quite self-contained in the kitchen with your Play-Doh torture center, I mean, activity play area.

After the new toy survives at least 90 minutes of conditioning to the extremes of Play-Doh, it must then endure, and conquer, the Play-Doh worms that unravel as the car finally breaks through the stronghold of the Play-Doh encasing.

It’s hilarious to me.

I don’t even mind picking up all the little red dots of Play-Doh before they get a chance to get ground into our light gray carpet.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

 

 

 

 

 

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It’s Lovely Weather For a HAYRIDE Together With You!

October 20, 2013 at 11:24 pm , by 

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

This is a picture of you on your very first hayride, at least that I’m aware of.

(You were obviously happy about it.)

The way I see it, going on a hayride is one of the most American things you can do in Autumn.

It starts getting too cold to enjoy being outside in October, so you show up to a farm (more marketably called a “pumpkin patch”) where enough other people want to have fun, despite it being too cold to be outside for an hour and a half compared to if they were simply in their own yard.

How it seems to go for most new experiences in your life, like the train ride at the zoo last weekend, you typically are quiet as you process what’s going on- to figure out whether or not you like it.

Typically, it’s not until at least the next day that you refer to the experience as a positive event.

But with the hayride, it was barely finished before you announced to Mommy and me, “I liked the hayride.”

After all, we got pulled by a tractor! That’s not something we get to do everyday.

Soon after, we made our way to the play area, where you had no trouble finding a toy tractor to reenact our adventure.

I was uncertain how you’d react to the Halloween decorations that were placed all along the ride, but you actually thought they were pretty cool- like the giant spider made out of hay.

So what are our plans for next weekend?

You guessed it. We’re headed back to the pumpkin patch to go on the hayride again.

I’m becoming more aware of the fact that I really get to have more fun with you these days. I’m especially looking forward to the holidays coming up for the rest of the year.

Now you are really starting to remember the activities and adventures we do together as a family.

That’s not to say you’re ready for Disney World, but I’d say you’re definitely approved for that 2nd visit to the pumpkin patch next weekend.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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I Think I Can, I Think I Can…Ride The Zoo Train

October 16, 2013 at 9:18 pm , by 

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

As we anticipated our 2nd trip to the Louisville Zoo, I had been trying to hype up the train ride they have, since we didn’t get a chance to ride it last time.

Your response:

“No, I don’t want to ride that train.”

I didn’t believe you. I figured maybe you just didn’t know for sure what I was talking about.

After all, how could a little boy who is obsessed with Chugginton and Thomas & Friends not want to actually ride a little train around the zoo?

But Z-Day came and you held true to your word: You still didn’t want to ride it, adding, “I scared!”

However, you weren’t given a choice. There we were in line for the train ride with my parents, my sister, my brother-in-law, and your girl cousin who is 7 months younger than you.

You were getting on that train. Whether or not you would allow yourself to enjoy it, that was the part I didn’t know.

For the first minute or so of the ride, you buried your head in Mommy’s shoulder.

Then you heard all the fun happening around and you just couldn’t pretend not to be there anymore. It was nearly immediately that you began screaming with excitement.

We blasted through a series of tunnels, which from what I can remember, sort of looked like the rainbow graffiti-looking artwork on the Coldplay album, Mylo Xyloto.

With the zoo being decorated in a Fall/Halloween theme, there were plenty of other interesting things to distract you from the fact that just minutes before you were somewhat terrified.

I remember we saw some giant spiders and goofy monsters.

You loved the train ride.

It was a challenge for you, though. It placed you out of your comfort zone.

I’m not fully convinced you won’t be afraid to ride the next zoo train you encounter, but at least now I know that you enjoyed the ride in the end.

Thanks for being a brave little toaster. I mean, the little engine that could.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

P.S. To see more pictures of our family road trip, go to The Dadabase’s Facebook page and click on the picture folder, Louisville AdVANture Road Trip October 2013.

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Thank You For Letting Me Sleep In On Our Vacation!

October 16, 2013 at 8:20 pm , by 

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

Going into last weekend’s mini-road trip and vacation, I kept my expectations extremely low, as I’ve learned to do based on previous overnight family trips.

I kept in mind, as Clark Griswold puts it, that a family vacation is not a vacation, but instead a quest for fun.

The thing that most worried me was the sleeping situation in the 3 bedroom house we rented to fit my parents, my sister and brother-in-law, and your cousin, as well:

Mommy made a pallet (a Southern term for bed of blankets) for you on the floor next to our bed.

So that I wouldn’t be disappointed, I just went ahead and assumed that you would wake up in the middle of the night, realize Mommy and I were in the same room as you, and cry until we let you sleep in the bed with us…

Which would soon after result in me sleeping on the couch because I wouldn’t get any sleep because you never actually sleep if you’re in bed with us; instead you cry/play.

Not only did you sleep through the night on Day 1, but on the 2nd day you actually slept in! Mommy and I got to sleep for over 9 hours in a California King-sized bed!

That is miraculous!

I actually got an abundance of rest while on an overnight family trip? Thank you, Son.

Not only that, but our family actually got to chill out. At one point, Mommy took the Sienna for a spin to Starbucks, and you and I watched Monsters, Inc., or at least the first 42 minutes of it.

Peaceful. How cool.

So, here’s to hoping our “pallet plan” works for next time, and every future next time.

Noted: You sleep better on the floor when we’re in a strange house.

 

Love,

Daddy

P.S. To see more pictures of our family road trip, go to The Dadabase’s Facebook page and click on the picture folder, Louisville AdVANture Road Trip October 2013.

 

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My Age, Now That I’m A Parent, Seems Less Relevant

October 6, 2013 at 9:30 pm , by 

2 years, 10 months.

Dear Jack,

I keep having to remind myself of my age. It’s not something I really think about, but when I am about to say my age out loud, I naturally want to say that I am 28 or 29.

And it’s not because of the cliche where I miss being in my 20s and therefore jokingly pretend I’m still 29.

What it probably comes down to for me is that I was 28 when I found out Mommy and I were going to become parents and 29 when you were actually born.

So I guess somehow, psychologically, my age as an individual stopped mattering to me on November 16, 2010.

For all practical purproses, my age became irrelevant that day.

Instead, what I identify with more, is that I am the parent of a young child.

That, is my age. Or at least that’s what I place in that category instead.

This is something I found out officially just a few weeks ago. Mommy and I had been looking for a Sunday School class to join at our church.

We hadn’t been in a steady one since before you were born.

It was either too much trouble or too much of a sacrifice not to be near you for that extra hour or so of the week.

But now that you’re nearly 3, you make it clear that you like to go to church. You ask us to go to church. When we can’t go for whatever reason sometimes, you are disappointed.

It may just be because you get to eat snacks and play with their trucks in the playroom. Oh, and getting to ride on the giant buggy that seats like 8 kids…

The third try was a charm for us, in regards to finding the “right” class. What we realized was that the people in the class are mostly were parents of young children like us.

Mommy and I are both 32 years old. Other parents in the class were 5 years younger or 5 years older, but that didn’t mean anything.

What we didn’t realize is that we were looking for was a group of friends we could relate to in the facets of life that are most important to us- being parents of small children was was of those main things.

Having a young child defines me, not my age.

I already forgot how old I am just now; that’s how much it doesn’t matter to me anymore.

 

Love,

Daddy