Storytelling

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That Pinterest-Trendy Picture Of Your Kid… What’s It Called?

November 5, 2013 at 11:00 pm , by 

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

This week on Facebook I was introduced to a cool type of picture that parents can create of their kids.

I don’t know that it’s called, though.

So until I do, I’ll just call it a “collage profile.”

Featured here is the picture that introduced me to it. Granted, this is a professional picture, by my friend Joe Hendricks, who took Mommy and Daddy’s wedding pictures as well as our pregnancy pictures.

To me, this is the perfect example of how it should be done. A+!

The concept is simple: a picture of a kid, superimposed with various, random texts showing their name, age, and interests.

What a cool idea! I have no idea who thought of it first but I hear that it’s trending on Pinterest.

Just for the fun of it, I threw one together for you. Eleven days away from your 3rd birthday, I now have a better visual of the stuff you’re into during this exact stage of your life.

A few months from now, I assume some of these listed interested will be replaced with others.

But as for right now, I can preserve this sort of visual bookmark on your life.

While I’m sure this kind of picture can be created on several different websites out there, the one I used is Picfont, where I do all the captions for your pictures. I like it because it’s free and doesn’t require a login and password.

So whatever this trendy kind of picture is called, it’s something I should probably do every so often.

The fact that you currently like the color pink… I have a feeling that’s going to change in the next couple of years and then we’ll really have something to laugh about.

Well, assuming you’re reading this years from now… Yes, son… you used to love the color pink.

But mainly as it relates to monster trucks!

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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Do You Want To Go See The Lego Movie With Me, Son?

November 4, 2013 at 9:11 pm , by 

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Why I Just Googled, “What Does ‘Soaked Up’ Mean?”

November 3, 2013 at 9:20 pm , by 

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

Yes, I know what “soaked up” means; it means that something has either physically absorbed a substance or that a person has absorbed new information.

But after the way you used the phrase today, I just wanted to make sure there’s not some underground slang used nearly 3 year-olds that I didn’t know about.

Turns out, there’s not. Google had nothing new to teach me, on this one.

This morning while we were at church, a friend Mommy and I both knowwalked up to us and with a whispered, dead pan performance, and jokingly explained to you that your parents shouldn’t need a nametag to identify their own son.

(Our church’s daycare requires computer-printed nametags for safety reasons.)

You didn’t say a word to him. You just stared at him with a somewhat serious face during his joke.

As soon as we got back to the car, you asked Mommy and me, “Why was that man soaked up?”

For the entire car ride home, we were inquisitive as to what you meant by him being “soaked up.”

“Did you think he was wet, somehow?” Mommy asked you.

“No! He wasn’t wet… he was soaked up,” you explained.

There was nothing about his appearance that should have seemed any bit out of the ordinary. So maybe “soaked up” had something to do with the way he was talking to you?

For the rest of the afternoon, I tried to use context clues to figure out the meaning of this mysterious phrase. But I was unsuccessful in getting you to say it a second time. And when I said “soaked up,” you just adamantly insisted that I was wrong to say it.

I suppose this is one of those mysteries I will take to my grave.

Like, why does the witch in the Wizard of Oz melt away simply by getting water poured on her? Why was it not problematic for there to be so few female Smurfs compared to males?

Most importantly, what does “soaked up” mean when referred to another human being, if it has nothing to do with them being wet in any way.

Only you hold the answer, Son.

The interesting thing is that simply by writing this letter to you today, I’ve helped make “soaked up” more identifiable in a non-traditional sense. In other words, I’m enabling your strange vocabulary.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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Our 1st Parent Teacher Conference

November 3, 2013 at 2:51 pm , by 

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

On Friday, Mommy and I went to your school for our first ever routine parent teacher conference. Most of what Ms. Lauren told us about you, we already knew:

That you’re obsessed with trucks and you love to be the line leader.

But what is a bit suprising is that, at school, you never stop talking!

As for me, I was a fairly quiet kid until about the 4th grade; so I sort of assumed the same would be for you.

Nope.

In fact, you’re so talkative, that Ms. Lauren told us, sort of half-jokingly, that you’re the tatttletell of the class.

When she tells another student to do something, you inform her of your classmate’s failure to comply with the instructions.

It’s not a big surprise, considering what I do for a living is very HR-based. In essense, I tattletale on adults all day long at my job in the office…

Of course, not everything you chat about in class is informing your teacher about your classmates. You also put your teacher in this situation where she is constantly having to make sense of the stories you tell her.

She hears the detailed list of cars that you and I see on the way to school each morning.

Ms. Lauren commented to Mommy and me, “Are there really that many pink trucks and SUVs in Nashville?”

Probably not.

It’s just that you never forget seeing one the first time and it ends up in the regular rotation of your conversation play list.

Nonetheless, you always have plenty to talk about at school. Here I thought that was just with Mommy and I at home, since a lot of the times we see you interact with others, you are shy.

Now we know, you’ve got a lot to say, and Mommy and I aren’t the only ones hearing it.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Progress In Potty Training A Nearly 3 Year-Old Boy

November 3, 2013 at 7:00 am , by 

2 year, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

Yesterday afternoon as Mommy was upstairs working on laundry and as we were watching Disney’s Spooky Buddies, you announced to me:

“I go potty!”

That was my cue to jump up and chase you to the bathroom door, open it for you, and turn on the light.

From there, you did your business.

I always stand right outside the door, with it cracked, as to still give you some privacy but to also assess the situation.

This particular time, I was only half-way paying attention, I admit. I suppose I was slightly distracted about the thought of the “ghost puppy” in the movie we were in the middle of.

You so easily understood and didn’t question a “ghost puppy” that flew around like Casper. I did.

So for what happened next, I had to ask myself if I really had just seen what I thought I did:

After “going number one,” you lifted up the potty tray from your Elmo potty and held it in one hand, and with the other you lifted up the real potty lid and dumped your Elmo potty contents into it.

Then, you sat the Elmo potty tray back into the Elmo potty and flushed the real potty before running back into the living room to finish our movie.

I was stunned.

It’s a big enough deal to go potty, but to take care of all those other steps too… wow. I was probably most impressed by the fact you didn’t spill the Elmo potty tray.

On top of all that, it was probably the 5th successful time yesterday that you “went potty in the potty.” In fact, you had no accidents all day yesterday, even when we went out in public for a couple of hours.

Of course it all goes back to last weekend when your Nonna and Papa (my parents) were here.

After we all went out for some fun at the pumpkin patch, that evening Mommy and I went out on a date night (at a New Mexican restaurant and Old Navy). And Nonna and Papa helped out Mommy and I tremendously by using that time to proactively potty train you…

What was effective was having you only wear your “big boy/Thomas the Train” underwear. It worked. You did not want to get Thomas dirty.

I had heard that when it comes to potty training a boy, it’s harder than potty training a girl.

But, that it really just comes down to two things: that the boy is about three years old, and that the boy is not wearing diapers while potty training.

It’s working. I am so proud of you.

 

Love,

Daddy