Storytelling

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Still, Though, I Think I’d Be Happy With Just One Kid…

July 4, 2013 at 3:43 pm , by 

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Saturday, your best friend Sophie stayed with us while her parents went to a wedding.  I had these preconceived ideas going into the event that, despite caring for two kids instead of one, it would not only be a lot of fun, but also, less stressful and chaotic than it usually is on the typical Saturday afternoon at our house.

Turns out, I was completely right! Sophie is so kind, so sweet, so cute, and so hilarious. That part was the icing on the cake.

The “cake” itself was the fact that you definitely were less needy than you typically are when it’s just you, Mommy, and me.

It’s that awkward number of three that makes the dynamics weird and often, more stressful, for me at least.

You rarely let Mommy prepare dinner or do anything productive without whining and hanging on to her legs, even though I eagerly want to play with you and your toys in the living room.

And I understand why, given the fact we both have to work while you’re at school all day.

But with Sophie here, making that new number 4 instead of 3, it was ideal. Everybody paired up throughout the afternoon.

Most of the time it was you and Sophie; me and Mommy. Or you and Mommy; me and Sophie. And a few times, you and me; Sophie and Mommy.

No one was ever left out; everyone had a role and a place. It worked. I liked it a lot.

From playing outside at the water table, to a luxurious wagon ride, to a delightful dinner involving mac and cheese along with Gogo Squeez applesauce pouches, the day had an excellent flow.

With that being said, I’m still not convinced that having another sibling would bring that sort of feng shui for our family.

After all, you and Sophie were born just one month apart. So basically, age-wise, you two are the equivalent of twins.

Not to mention, physically, you could easily pass as twins anyway!

But I’m not talking about twins in my scenario here. I’m talking about the possibility of Mommy and I having another baby; who would be a few years younger than you.

Those dynamics would be a lot different than having an equivalent girl version of you, plus you.

My reasons for wanting another child, when I sporadically do, are never sincere enough or truly legitimate. (Am I being too honest right now? Am I committing social media taboo by admitting that?)

I feel like my reasons are always selfish. If we’re going to grow our family, I want it to be “for the right reasons,” and I’m not even sure what they are anyway.

(Hmm… I wonder if that would make a good blog post?)

Yes, our family absolutely loves (!) Sophie and I really appreciate the dynamics she brings to our family; still, though, I think I’d be happy with just one kid.

I feel complete with a family of three. But, that could always change…

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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The Never Ending Dinner: No Appetite For Bed Time

July 3, 2013 at 10:39 pm , by 

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

Last week I told how you’ve recently been requesting to be in trouble so you could be in time-out instead of getting dressed in the morning.

Well, you have been extending that same clever line of thought in regards to bed time too.

Like tonight, for example.

After having already eaten your mac and cheese Mommy made for you especially, you waited until right before your “pre-bedtime playtime” was almost over until you decided that you wanted some more food… whatever Mommy and Daddy were having.

Tonight, it was veggie burritos. And honestly, they were a bit on the spicy side.

However, that didn’t stop you.

It was “Operation: Stall Dinner By Stuffing My Face” and you weren’t going to let anything get in your way… as long as Mommy and Daddy let you get away with it.

Which we did.

Since both of us are off of work for July 4th and you’re not having school, Mommy and I perhaps were a little bit in “whatever works” mode.

So we let you eat a semi-spicy burrito. Then, since you were still hungry/pretending to be, you took your time also downloading a Gogo Squeez applesauce pouch.

After that, I watched you drink a cup of water slower than I’ve ever seen you drink.

Actually, I was starting to wonder if you were pretending to be at the dentist, as you slothfully swished the water around in your mouth before finally swallowing it.

Son, I was quite impressed by your skills tonight. You did a great job making it look like you hadn’t already just eaten one dinner before having a second one.

Just be lucky we like you so much.

We could have sent you to bed without your 2nd dinner. Oh wait, that’s not how the saying goes…

 

Love,

Daddy

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Life’s A Journey, Not A Destination

July 2, 2013 at 11:51 pm , by 

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

This week I introduced Mommy to a 25 year-old movie called Rain Man, starring Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman.

It’s one of those movies where, now that I’ve seen it for the 3rd time, I realize that it’s actually one of my favorite movies.

I mentioned to Mommy some of the similarities betweenRain Man and The Guilt Trip , starring Barbara Streisand and Seth Rogen; another movie we both really like.

And then it hit me… most of my favorite movies are “road movies.”

A road movie is a film genre in which main characters travel across the country (or at least the state) motivated by some random plot device; during which they learn to overcome their differences in personalities and communication styles.

The characters involved typically find themselves rewarded by the end of the movie; most of all because of their shared personal experiences and character development. In other words, they become better people because of the road trip.

Ultimately, they prove that life’s a journey, not a destination.

(Just to name a few more examples of my favorite road movies… Dumb And Dumber, Planes, Trains, & Automobiles, National Lampoon’s Vacation, Little Miss Sunshine, and Sideways.)

On a similar note, Mommy and I have been totally psyching you up for this weekend. Friday is our 5th wedding anniversary and we’re celebrating it by…

Taking you on a 2 and a half hour road trip from Nashville, TN to Louisville, KY!

We’ve got you so excited/slightly confused as we keep telling you about the fold-out couch you’ll be sleeping on:

“Jack, do you want to sleep on your own special ‘big boy bed’ at the hotel in Louisville?”

Not to mention, our zoo membership is recognized there too, so visiting the zoo ultimately becomes the plot device for our little road trip.

You’re hoping to see camels and bears.

For me, this is really fun. I’m already cracking up at the thought of you sleeping on a fold-out couch in a hotel in Louisville.

That’s something I adore about you:

Here Mommy and I have hyped up this trip for the past couple of weeks and you don’t even know what a hotel is, or Louisville, or a fold-out couch.

Yet, your eyes light up at the thought of it all.

I think you’re going to do great on your first real road trip. It’s all about the journey, anyway.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Self-Imposed Time-Out Instead Of Getting Dressed

June 26, 2013 at 10:19 pm , by 

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

Three months ago, I told about how you willingly put yourself in time-out as punishment for accidentally hitting my leg while I was getting you dressed one morning… then you tried to escape from being in time-out!

Well, Mommy told me how this week you’ve been pulling a similar, yet almost opposite stunt.

You announce to Mommy, “I want to be in trouble.”

Of course, that means you can’t watch any of your shows on Netflix or any monster truck clips on the laptop.

It would be ironic if it weren’t for the fact that it’s your attempt at avoiding getting dressed.

There’s definitely some circular reasoning in this story I’m trying to sort out:

You don’t want to get dressed, so you want to be in trouble to be put in time-out, which then makes it more difficult to get dressed since you’re supposed to sit alone in the corner.

However, you still have to get dressed anyway, but if you don’t listen to Mommy as she’s trying to help you get dressed, there’s a good chance you’ll end up in time-out.

Ultimately, two things are inevitable: Getting dressed and time-out.

Of course, there’s the both reasonable and practical option:

Let Mommy get you dressed without a fight, then she’ll let you watch Netflix or monster trucks on the computer.

I really look forward to the day that getting you dressed is no longer a struggle.

But then, you might not provide me with funny stories of the illogical situations you get yourself into.

 

Love,

Daddy

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I Can’t Resist Hearing My Kid Say “I Love You”

June 24, 2013 at 11:26 pm , by 

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

You have discovered the magic words:

“I love you.”

That even includes the times you say it when you’re simply trying to use it to your advantage.

Every night as I’m downstairs doing the dishes, Mommy will let you prop yourself up on the balcony of the staircase and yell to me, “Hey Daddy, I potty! I get an M&M!”

For some reason when you get tired and giddy at the same time, you gain this Austrian accent.

So it’s more like, “Hey Dah-dee, I pah-dee…”

A little bit later, after I’ve sang you three random songs, one of which is usually the theme song to The Lorax movie, I say goodnight and leave the room.

You wait until about 10 seconds after I’ve shut the door.

“Hey Dah-dee, I laaaahv yew!”

Even though it’s spoken in your unnecessary and cartoonish Arnold Schwarzenegger accent, I can’t resist.

I immediately open the door, kiss you, and tell you I love you too.

Knowing your plan to delay bedtime actually worked, you tell me even louder that you love me, even though you’re laughing and just trying to be funny at that point.

It’s funny how even though I clearly know it’s a ploy, I go along with it anyway.

Are you beginning to understand what the word “love” really means? It’s not something I can simply describe to a 2 and a half year-old in words.

Mommy and I can show you everyday, knowing that eventually you’ll connect the word to the action. But as far as the word really making sense to you 100%, I don’t think you’re there yet.

That doesn’t matter to me. Even if you’re simply processing what it means to love me, and what it means that I love you…

Well, that’s close enough for me. I’ll take it.

 

Love,

Daddy