Storytelling

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Dear Jack: Your Unashamed Obsession with the Dinosaur Documentary, Dinotasia

  1. 6 and a half years.

Dear Jack,

Saturday morning as Mommy bought the groceries at Kroger, I stayed home with you and your sister, letting you pick something to watch on Netflix until Mommy got back.

We scrolled through the “Because You Watched Jurassic Park” suggestions and came across a seemingly appropriate selection: Dinotasia. As opposed to being a movie like you’re used to watching, it’s more of a documentary that shows what life was like for dinosaurs, featuring CGI cartoons, as opposed to interviews with paleontologists.

So I explained that to you before I clicked play, “This is a dinosaur documentary.”

As I assume all Kindergarten boys are, you are thoroughly obsessed with dinosaurs with the same degree of passion as you are with Pokemon characters.

Every night before bed, I read to you from your giant Dinosaurs book, as you learn the names and unique features of each dinosaur.

So by watching Dinotasia, you were able to correctly shout out, “Hey Daddy, that’s a Pachycephalosaurus!”

I know I’ve said this a lot before, but you really are a smart kid.

We were able to finish the documentary before Mommy got back with the groceries. And of course, you bombarded her when she came through the door, as you told her all about the dinosaur documentary we had just watched.

Then the next morning on Sunday, you woke up early to watch Dinotasia, a 2nd time; this time with Mommy.

Later that day, as we were leaving from church, Mommy asked you what you did in your group class, which includes some kids that are a bit older than you.

“I told them about the dinosaur documentary, Dinotasia. There was this older girl who thought I was only 3 years old and she didn’t think a 3 year-old could watch a documentary, but I told her I am in Kindergarten.”

We typically talk about what we value. You obviously value Dinotasia. I like having a son who proudly watches dinosaur documentaries.

Love,

Daddy

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This is 36: A Symbol of Our Love for a Decade, Broken and Restored

Travel back in time with me over a decade. On March 8, 2007, a month away from my 26th birthday, I walked into Kay Jewelers at the Cool Springs Mall in Franklin, Tennessee. A kind salesman, of Indian descent yet who spoke with an English accent, helped me find the perfect piece of jewelry.

I had only been dating this California girl for a month, but I felt compelled with all my being to spend $238 on a diamond bracelet as a gift to show her how serious I was about her.

It was simple: I knew she was the one. I knew that if she’d let me, I would promise the rest of my life to her.

This diamond bracelet would be followed by an engagement ring just 10 months later. But whereas the engagement ring (and wedding ring) would be taken off at times, like to wash the dishes and to get the rings cleaned, this special bracelet would ultimately never been taken off.

For the whole time we dated, then were engaged, then were newlyweds, then became parents the first time, then became parents the second time, then even saw our 2nd child turn a year-old and saw our 6 and a half year-old son prepare to graduate Kindergarten… my wife wore that diamond bracelet. For 10 years and 2 months.

And then, it snapped in two:

“Sad day—my heart bracelet broke after more than 10 years—I was playing with it on my wrist and then it snapped :(   My arm already feels naked.”

The very next day I journeyed back to the same Kay Jewelers and happened to immediately see the very same kind man from a decade before, as if time hadn’t even passed. He was impressed that I remembered him from a decade ago, but he was even more impressed how well the bracelet held up for over 10 years.

He began looking at the snapped bracelet through a special microscope, confused on why a silver bracelet had not turned at all after so long. Then he began typing on his computer, searching the records on my purchase from March 2007.

Then he explained, “I figured it out… This isn’t a silver bracelet… it’s white gold. The price for white gold has greatly increased in the past decade. There is no way you could purchase a bracelet like this, for what you paid for it back then. Just no way. This would go for at least $700 or $800 today. At least that much…”

What did I know about buying jewelry back in 2006, as a 25 year-old? Well, just that this classy diamond bracelet seemed to perfectly match the special girl I was buying it for. I definitely had no idea that the investment I was making back then would transcend beyond a symbol of my love for her- that the investment would also be financial, as well.

So two weeks ago, I paid the nice man at Kay Jewelers $42 to send off the bracelet to be repaired, and just a few days ago, I picked up the bracelet- good as new.

That bracelet, and what it symbolizes, holds so much personal value to both of us. I’m very glad to see it back on my wife’s wrist.

This is 36.

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This is 36: The Face of a Dad Whose Family was All Asleep by 9 O’Clock Last Night

Bragging rights! Over here, everybody look at me…

Last night, my whole family was in bed and asleep by 9 o’clock. Seriously, are you not getting jealous reading this right now?

The dishes were done by 8:23 PM, by which time our son had fallen asleep. By that point, our daughter had been asleep for nearly an hour.

Forget Netflix. 

The parents just went straight to bed and instantly blacked out.

Glory!

No cries in the middle of the night from the baby. Since turning a year-old, our daughter has been doing a great job sleeping through the night without even waking up for a “shifting gears” cry around 10:50 PM; which is the time I am more likely to finally get to bed.

Perhaps her diet of more solid foods, and no more formula, is helping with that.

I say it’s a status symbol, as a parent at age 36, with a Kindergartner son and a 1 year-old daughter, to be able to fall asleep at 9 o’clock.

Contrast that to a year ago, when our daughter was too young for me to start applying my cruel and evil (yet extremely effective!) Cry It Out method.

Being able to sleep for over 8 hours, on a week night, is such a prize.

Because it’s not like my wife and I catch a break on the weekends. There’s no such thing as “sleeping in” for us. And once we’re up, we’re working all day long…

Between running errands, getting housework done, feeding the kids, entertaining the kids, and getting them to sleep for naps; plus feeding ourselves and cleaning the dishes… I would argue that we work at least equally as hard all day, as we do for our full-time jobs during the work week.

So yeah, it’s a pretty big deal for the whole family to be asleep by 9 o’clock on a Tuesday night.

This is 36.

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Dear Holly: You Live Up to Your Middle Name, Joy

1 year.

Dear Holly,

Saturday morning our family drove a few miles down the street to Ms. Aimee’s place, for her to take your official 1 year-old photos. She was your brother’s preschool teacher when he was 4 years-old. It just so happens that her roommate, Ms. Michelle, was his teacher when he was 3 years-old. But neither of them had met you yet.

Actually, it was Ms. Aimee who helped us find the American Girl doll, which was your main birthday gift from us.

During the couple of hours we were there, both Ms. Aimee and Ms. Michelle couldn’t help but keep bringing up what a doll you are; that you literally look like a doll that has come to life; especially when someone sees you in person, as opposed to seeing a picture of you.

They also noticed how content and happy you are. You’re also expecting the best out of people and the best out of the situation. You go along with whatever we’re doing with a big smile on your face as if to say, “Oh, I’ve never done this before. This is going to be fun!”

Mommy and I didn’t give you the middle name Joy simply because we thought it was a cute name for a little girl. We chose it specifically because, as Mommy explains it, “When you think of a little girl with Joy in her name, how could she not be a delight to everyone around her?

For sure, nothing about your middle name is ironic. You are truly a joy to be around.

I love to spend time with you and take care of you, because I know you are a source of light and life.

Yeah, I have to admit: Mommy and I did a great job naming you Holly Joy.

Love,

Daddy

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This is 36: I Am Raising a Son who is a Different Boy than I Was

In hindsight, I now realize in some ways, I was a late bloomer. Back when I was a young boy, I was quiet. I lived in fear of anything outside my comfort zone. I didn’t have any self-esteem issues as a kid, but I really just didn’t care to peek outside of the box of what I already knew.

I remember how at the end of each school year that would pass, my teacher for that grade would tell my parents, “Nick has really come out of his shell this year…”

(And yes, that’s funny because my last name is Shell.)

Finally, by the time I got to 8th grade, I was out of my shell. When I graduated high school, I chose to go to college in Virginia, which was 8 hours away from where I grew up. And during those years, I chose to spend two summers on the other side of the world, teaching English in Thailand.

The way I see it, I was starting to make up for lost time. What things did I miss out on as a child because I was too… comfortable?

But now, I’m fundamentally attracted to what is outside of that same box I used to fear to peak out of. Like I recently said, I want to die as the most open-minded old man you know.

As for my son, he will not experience that same kind of character arc from his childhood to his adulthood. Because, he’s already there, when it comes to being eager to explore the world.

He’s not shy. He’s not quiet. He loves to experience and try new things.

I can easily spot some of the reasons he’s so much more mature than I was at his age.

For every year of his life, he’s traveled to California with my wife and me, to visit my wife’s side of the family. He “grew up in daycare” so he was socialized starting at 7 months old. Not to mention, he’s grown up in a major city. He’s used to the fast pace of Nashville.

I think what might help me understand why he and I are so much alike, despite the 29 and a half year age difference, is this:

He’s not the boy I was. He’s the boy I am now.

This is 36.