May 20, 2014 at 11:06 pm , by Nick Shell

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Yes, that’s me. Those are my feet sticking out from underneath all of the couch cushions and accent pillows in our living room.

When that picture was taken, I was in somewhat of a meditative state; not simply because my oxygen supply was being fairly limited, but also because it was sort of relaxing in there.

In fact, I had no idea Mommy even took that picture until I was going through the picture folder on my flash drive yesterday, looking for a something else.

Sure, I heard what was going on outside my world of pillows:

“Hey Mommy! Daddy’s all covered. Look at Daddy. I finished his cage now.”

Then I heard your footsteps as you approached me. I saw a small opening appear between the pillows, with light coming through.

“Here you go, Tiger. Here’s your food!”

Apparently pet tigers like to eat (plastic) snakes.

This routine has become the norm. I can see why.

It allows you to completely make a mess and get away with it, as you pretend you are building a cage for your Daddy, who happens to be a tiger.

I really don’t mind it at all. Like I said, it sort of gives me 12 minutes or more of time to just zone-out on the living room floor.

With a schedule as busy as mine, I typically don’t make time for zoning out… other than when I’m running or sleeping.

It’s not so much a desperate attempt to make time for myself as it is me trying to multitask:

By being your tiger in a cage, I can spend quality time with you; because to you, I’m playing.

And I can rest my mind for a little while; because to me, being buried in a “cage” of pillows is actually relaxing.

Yes, that’s me multitasking. It’s Daddy in his… quiet place.

Love,

Daddy

May 18, 2014 at 2:11 pm , by Nick Shell

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Thursday when you and I got home from school and work, I found a package on our doormat. This was odd, because aside from holidays, I never receive mail directed to me alone.

I’m okay with that, but it did surprise me. Turns out, it was a copy of the book Lessons For Joey:100 Things I Can’t Wait To Teach My Son.

A couple of months ago, the author, RJ Licata, had asked me to write a little blurb about it to be featured on the back cover.

After creating the successful daddy blog “100 Things To Teach My Son” a while back, he recently published a book based on it.

Here’s what I said about his book:

“I think one of the most masculine things a father can do for his son is to communicate with him clearly and regularly; from the day to day to the big picture stuff. Therefore, it has been easy for me to be a fan of RJ Licata’s blog–and now his book. A good father is a good mentor. That’s why this book is special. It’s a glimpse of what hands on fatherhood looks like, fleshed out in the form of 100 lessons.”

I easily celebrate any fellow dad who publically and positively portrays fatherhood. Something I’ve learned in the 4 years of writing about you/to you is that I care less now about how the media so obviously makes dads out to be idiots.

These days, my focus is on spotlighting any entity that shares my passion of reinforcing the positive examples of fatherhood.

That’s why I mentioned him a year ago in my letter, Dads Like To Teach Life Lessons To Their Kids.

For example, I was pleasantly surprised to see the healthy relationship between the father and son the movie,About Time, that I recently wrote to you about.

It’s subtle, but it’s a big deal to me.

I read a fantastic article recently, called “Why Fatherhood Matters,” by Stephen Marche, which proclaims that fatherhood has never mattered more, as the definition of masculinity has evolved through generations:

“Only fatherhood is indisputably masculine, which is why when you ask men when they became men, they usually answer when they became a father or lost a father.”

He goes on to declare fatherhood as a marker of class.

The way I feel, this is one of the most important times to be a dad. And let’s face it… it’s also one of the coolesttimes to be a dad.

Fatherhood is masculine.

I just don’t see how a man can be more manly that being a good father- and by “good father,” a huge part of that is how well he communicates with his child.

To me, that is perhaps the most important aspect of being a father.

So while I could easily go on all day about all the times I’ve missed the mark in life, I can at least feel positive that I’m doing one thing right:

Communicating with you.

Love,

Daddy