Storytelling

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Father-Son Fight Club: The 1st Rule Is…

May 3, 2014 at 8:04 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I promise it was your idea. I’m only going along with it… with acompletely clear conscience.

Since last weekend, you’ve started this thing where you come up to me, punch me in the chest as hard as you can, laugh, then say, “Let’s fight, Daddy.”

And what do I do? I “fight” back.

Well, the difference with my response to you is that I obviously don’t punch you as hard as I can.

I actually am “punching” you back as lightly as I can.

Here we are, a week into it, still hittin’ strong and I’m only seeing positives:

I like to see the confidence you’re gaining in yourself.

I like the way you and I are bonding over it.

I like how you get to test your own physical strength against mine, knowing that less than a second later you’ve got a soft “punch” coming right back at your chest or stomach.

The way I see it, it’s no different than male wolves of the same pack practicing their fighting moves on each other. The way I see it, I am giving you introductory “man lessons.”

Most importantly, you’ve yet to punch any of your friends at school. That’s because I had a little talk with you last weekend before you went back to school on Monday. I explained how the only person you can punch is me.

And you listened!

Like I mentioned, I can’t help but notice the bonding that has occurred since we started our “father-son fight club.” Here recently, you actually have been asking me to sit next to you on the couch. Then, you lay your arm across mine.

That used to be an action you saved for Mommy and never granted me.

So whatever inspired you to start punching me, I’m glad it happened.

Granted, for all I know, I may not be the best example of a parent.

Maybe my stories about us wouldn’t be the kind you’d expect to ever see on a parenting website or something.

But between you and me, I think we have a good thing going on!

It’s our little secret. After all, the first rule about Father-Son Fight Club is that we don’t talk about Father-Son Fight Club.

 

Love,

Daddy

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To See My Child Brighten Someone’s Day, It Makes Me Proud

May 1, 2014 at 11:05 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

This morning you were so excited to take your pet dog, Chi-chi, to school. He (or is it she?) has an “on” switch which causes it to walk across the floor and bark/chirp. It’s pretty hilarious.

But since you and your friends are 3 and a half, it’s pretty much as awesome as me finding out yesterday why “A113″ shows up in nearly every Disney/Pixar movie.

You were so eager to show Chi-Chi to your friends, I was actually a bit surprised. I feared that you might freak out as a mob of your classmates would begin going crazy foryour toy.

I thought it would bother you. I thought you might quickly get possessive.

That’s not at all what happened. Instead, I saw the look on your face as 7 or 8 of your friends all circled around you in amazement of your toy.

Never was there a sign of concern as Chi-Chi (and ultimately, you) were the hit of the party.

I saw joy in your eyes as you witnessed your friends playing with and passing around the toy you brought to share with them.

You brightened their day. That made you happy.

And it made me happy too.

When we got home, I saw on Facebook that my friend Holly, from college, had messaged me:

Nick, i just had to let you know that of all the compliments I received on my pink hair picture, your son requesting a second viewing makes me feel the coolest. Hope you’re doing well!

A few days ago, Holly had posted this new picture of herself with some temporary pink hair dye. (Being half-Norwegian and half-Swedish, her hair is normally light blonde.)

You caught a glimpse of the picture on my laptop as I was scrolling through Facebook and were pretty fascinated by this seemingly magical girl with the pink hair. I let Holly know that:

“My son Jack likes your hair so much, he just asked to see your picture again!”
Of the 20-something comments and 70-something “likes” she received from that picture, your comment made her feel the coolest. Enough for her to take the time to let me know, several days later.
And if you can believe it, the fact that you made her day by asking to see her picture a 2nd time… well, it made myday.
Twice in the same couple of hours, I saw first-hand how you simply brightened other people’s days.
It makes me so proud that you are such a sweet boy. I don’t think I was that caring and giving when I was your age.
Yeah, you make me proud.
Love,
Daddy
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Why I’m The Cheapest Parent I Know

April 22, 2014 at 10:07 pm , by 

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

For me, it’s almost like a contest:

Can I be the cheapest parent that most people know?

I believe in the importance of just not buying things to begin with. I think that’s where the most money is saved.

I’ve covered some of this before in “5 Impractical Ways To Save Your Family Money In 2013.”

You are being raised in a household with a strict weekly budget, where our cars are over 10 years old but paid off; you live in a home without smart phones, without cable or satellite TV, without updated electronics, without pets… not to mention we rarely go out to eat because Mommy cooks basically every meal.

(And where Daddy does the dishes for all those meals. I’ve gotten really good at that, by the way.)

A credit card is used only to take advantage of the credit card company; earning points to get free stuff for our family. So we do use one, but it’s immediately paid off each week and is built into our budget the same way as a debit card.

We even reuse our plastic baggies.

You’re stuck in a household where we have an outdated 2005 TV with a mockable 30 inch screen with $8 a month Netflix streaming.

I admit, we do have an older model Kindle that Mommy bought… on clearance, after the newer model came out.

And that goes back to our trick about only buying stuff during the last two weeks of the month, when more items are on sale, like I’ve mentioned before.

Not to mention, I’m not going to deny that one of the reasons you are an only child (at least for now) is for financial reasons.

Part of your parents’ cheapness comes from us having 1st and 2nd generation immigrant grandparents from Italy and Croatia, who lived through the Great Depression. That rubbed off on us; I’m sure of it.

The rest of it has to do with us having to “learn money” the hard way.

We made a lot of financial mistakes that we didn’t realize were mistakes at the time; like moving away from a city where we had good jobs to a smaller city where we basically couldn’t find jobs for nearly 9 months- before finally moving back to where the jobs were.

However, I look to the positive. Living through that caused Mommy and me to forever think differently, for the best:

We ended up being able to pay off over $58,000 in debt, after living off credit cards because we thought that was normal.

Thank God (and Dave Ramsey), we have now begun reversing our debt into savings. However, I think that having to live through through our own “great depression” has forever changed us.

There’s just no way we could see things the same way again.

So while it may be weird that your parents can’t just look up the height of Tom Cruise on a smart phone in the middle of a conversation during dinner at Red Lobster…

And while it may sound strange that our family has to wait for TV shows and movies to hit Redbox or Netflix before we can see them, it’s okay by us.

Hey, our family is different. You get that by now. This is just me trying to explain what made us this way so you can tell your friends why your parents are so cheap… and/or quirky.

Love,

Daddy

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My Kid Is The Best At Everything In The Entire World!

April 22, 2014 at 8:32 pm , by 

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I’m guessing it’s normal and natural for every parent to secretly assume that their own kid is just automatically the best at pretty much everything in the entire world.

Yep, I can relate.

This past weekend over Easter I was just thoroughly impressed by your watercolor painting skills. I mean, you’re only 3 years old.

All you needed from me was a cup of water to dip your paintbrush into. You did the rest while I did the dishes.

I mean seriously, you did better than I could have.

And then today I saw another painting you did at school.

When I saw your name next to it, I thought it was a mistake. I though surely a 4 or 5 year-old must have down a work of art as complex as that.

Or even Eric Carle himself.

Nope. It was all you.

So of course, that only reinforced my preconceived idea that you are such a talented artist.

I am your dad- I am wired to believe you are an exceptional kid… because you are!

It’s not just your artistic skills, though. Even just the way you think amazes me, for a 3 year-old.

When you play with your Hot Wheels these days, you’re always putting on a show.

You have me help you hand-select the classic cars, the hot rods, the race cars, and the trucks to place in the race. Then all the other Hot Wheels have to form a huge, long line to go see the show.

It’s something you are very strategic about. You even make sure the police car and ambulance are placed right next to where the race is, to prepare for accidents… which are guaranteed to happen with you in charge!

Do other 3 year-old little boys paint like you and create big shows with your Hot Wheels? Is that typical?

Probably.

But hey, I am your dad- I am wired to believe you are an exceptional kid… because you are!

 

Love,

Daddy

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I Just Came Here To Read Comments

April 21, 2014 at 8:35 pm , by 

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

In several of my letters to you, I’ve made mention to you that simply by being a parent, I have become a more mature person.

It’s true. I’m now embarrassed by some of the things I’ve written to you over the years- and I wish I could say I’ll never say something stupid again.

But if I said that, I would be conceited, which would contradict the part about maturing as a parent.

One of the most relevant lessons I’ve been teaching myself  is “how not to say things that will end up making me sound judgmental of other parents or to be offensive to them.”

And I tell you- that’s a very tricky lesson to learn.

Ultimately, it’s dang near impossible not to step on someone’s toes.

I’ve discovered that even by talking about the possibility of you being an only child can offend other parents who are unable to have another child.

If I talk about our family’s plant-based lifestyle, it can be perceived that I am trying to convert other people to “unhealthy eating habits which keeps your family from getting the nutrients they need.”

If I speak neutrally about having guns in the house, or bronies, or why I believe spanking is not more effective than time-out, I’m going to either offend, upset, or at least get someone emotionally worked up.

You know what, though? I’m okay with that.

I do try to be as respectful as I can in my interactions with people in real life and social media; the latter of which is much more difficult.

In fact, trying to regularly participate in social media while talking about parenting topics especially can be harder than attempting to get through a Chips Ahoy cookie without eating a chocolate chip.

Therefore, there is now a very relevant Internet meme which features Michael Jackson eating popcorn, stating: “I Just Came Here To Read The Comments.”

It tends to show up in the comments section of controversial blog posts.

Actually, I just saw it featured this weekend on Facebook in the comments section of a Parents.com article, written by a parent who admits her family only goes to church on Easter.

Navigating the comments on social media has become almost ridiculous by now. I noticed last week at the bottom of a parenting article on MSN, they now have to offer up a list of “reportable” tags for comments:

There’s now a category for spam, exploitation, profanity/vulgarity/obscenity, copyright infringement, harassment or threat, and even threats of suicide.

Wow.

With that being said, I try not to offend those in the world of parenting… but these days, it’s not always easy to know who the actual Internet trolls really are.

I just have to tiptoe and tap-dance while being ready to duck and dodge potential tomatoes being hurled my way.

 

Love,

Daddy