Storytelling

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To My Readers, Why I Chose The Name “Family Friendly Daddy Blog”

First off, I want to thank you personally for being one of the readers I am referencing in the title. You don’t have to be spending your time reading what I sayright now; but you are, and I truly appreciate that. You actually linked the link and found yourself here, off the mainstream path.

Family Friendly Daddy Blog

I will admit I was at least curious as to see if I’d lose any followers on Facebook and Twitter after I left Parents.com 2 weeks ago.

Gratefully, I’ve am still gaining followers since the departure, so I’ll take it that people can still appreciate my writing even without the glory of the Parents magazine name in my header. That means a lot to me.

Whereas I’ve been writing directly to my son Jack over the past couple of years, don’t be surprised if you start seeing more “To My Readers” segments; in which I show you what’s going on backstage and behind the scenes here.

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Today I thought it would be a good idea to explain why I chose the name “Family Friendly Daddy Blog” now that I’ve returned back to my original site; as opposed to “The Dadabase.”

I admit I only spent about 47 seconds coming up with the name “Family Friendly Daddy Blog.” It was the first thing to came to mind when trying to figure out how to make myself easily “Google-able” as a daddy blogger and as one who keeps things PG rated.

The phrase “family friendly” also indicates that my blog is not simply a daddy blog, but more of a blog for parents and families.

So “Family Friendly Daddy Blog” is my way of saying when you come to my site, you should expect something family oriented, but specifically written from a male, fatherly perspective.

Another thing you can expect is for my material to be positive.

But also real at the same time… but not too real…

I say that because Facebook can be a bipolar place. I want “Family Friendly Daddy Blog” to be a welcoming exit when you see me pop up while scrolling through your Facebook home page.

Well, that’s it. That’s what “Family Friendly Daddy Blog” is all about and that’s why I felt the new name was a good way to sum it all up.

Again, thanks for being a part of it.

Sincerely,

Nick Shell

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The Surprise Twist In The Robinsons “Pals” Ad

May 4, 2013 at 12:04 am , by 

2 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I hope you just watched that 60 second ad before reading this.

(Here’s a chance to, if you haven’t. Go ahead, please. I’ll wait.)

As you just watched, the boy in the green shirt puts his arm around the boy in the striped shirt while he was holding the ball, dusts him off when they fall down, compliments him on his throw, lifts him up to the bar he can’t reach, pretends like he’s about to push him into the water, patiently looks over his shoulder as he plays his video game, recognizes the boy’s crush and encourages him to talk to her and insists she likes him too, takes the “fatal hit” while using sticks to play sword fight, serves him juice, stays awake after he falls asleep watching T.V, takes his shoes off for him, carries him upstairs and lays a blanket over him.

They’re clearly friends, right?

The ad closes with the boy in the striped shirt saying, “Good night, Dad.” Then the dad tells his son good night too.

Brilliant.

In those 60 seconds, through play, encouragement, and affection, the dad serves the son.

Just a few weeks ago I wrote, “To Love And To Lead Is To Serve: No Thank You’s Required.” Though it’s a simple concept, I felt it was important enough to write to you about:

“It probably comes down to this anyway: The most important things I do in life, and that I am best at doing, are the things for which I’m not regularly thanked. Serving is loving and leading. I get that now… no thank you’s required.”

In a history of commercials making the dad out to be an idiot, finally, somebody really (!) gets it right.

Only a week ago I wrote “How To Market To An ‘Unmarketable’ Generation Y Dad.” I explained what it would take for an ad to reach me, because I’m so good at ignoring ads:

“So, in review, a stubborn, penny pinching, Dave Ramsey following, Generation Y dad like me will magically buy a product for his son if he believes that… the product will reinforce the traditional ideas and principles that remind him of his own 1987 version of childhood and/or… the company makes it clear that dads are helpful and important, not idiots.”

A+, Robinsons “Pals.” You are the official dad ad to beat.

Here’s a secret, Son. A dad can never hear enough, from anyone, that he is a good dad.

To outsiders it may appear to be a sensitive male ego thing, but as a dad, I can confirm that routine, positive affirmation is one of the most effective ways to reach and connect with a dad.

So now, I need to go wipe my nose. I could blame it on the Maple trees blooming here in Nashville, triggering my allergies.

Instead, I’ll just admit it. After watching this ad a few times, I’m pretty tore up, in a good way.

I just love you so much.

 

Love,

Daddy

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So I’m Pretty Much Obsessed With The I-Screamer…

May 3, 2013 at 10:37 pm , by 

2 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

For the past two weeks on the way home from school, the two of us have been swinging by Walmart each day. Why?

Not because you, a nearly 2 and a half year-old boy, are zeroed in on finding a certain elusive toy, but because your 32 year-old dad is.

The exact toy I am referring to is none other than a $8.97 monster truck, exclusive to Walmart: The I-Screamer, which is an ice cream monster truck.

This basic $8.97 version is so elusive that I couldn’t even find a picture or video of him on the Internet. Oy vey!

As you know, Mater wrestles and defeats the I-Screamer in Mater’s Tall Tales.

I don’t want the big, fancy, action-packed version that costs 20 bucks or more. I just want the cheap one that is comparable in size to your favorite black one, that you carry my old Micro Machines in.

Working in the logistics side of the transportation industry, I know that most dry goods are moved out of the warehouses by the end of the month, to prepare for the new month.

So that means… the I-Screamer is waiting there in the back of the store right now; it’s just a matter of the new shipment being stocked on the shelves.

Therefore, you and I show up every single day, hoping that today is the day. In fact, today we wentbefore and after I took you to school. No luck.

Not to mention, I’ve got your Nana, back in Alabama, as well as your friend Sophie’s mom, looking for the I-Screamer for us.

I’m trying to figure out why I’m so obsessed with getting myself, I mean, you, a monster ice cream truck that sort of resembles a crazy clown.

All I can think of is this: Back in high school, one of my favorite bands was The Smashing Pumpkins. The video for their song, “Today,” features the band driving around in an ice cream truck.

I even considered buying an old ice cream truck from one of my uncles, as my first car when I was 16. It didn’t end up actually happening, but I suppose I’ve never really let go of my love for ice cream trucks, and that was half my life ago.

Yeah, I’ve got issues.

 

Love,

Daddy

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My Son’s Soft Serve Ice Cream Shoppe In The Potty

April 29, 2013 at 10:57 pm , by 

2 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Mommy and I recently bought you a 3-pack of Play-Doh that looks like Neapolitan chocolate chip ice cream.

After you experimented with it for a little while, transforming your plastic horsey into a dinosaur, and using the brown Play-Doh as mud that your monster trucks drive over and “got stuck” in, you eventually wandered off into the bathroom.

I was curious as to what was going on in there, but I gave you a few minutes of privacy.

Then you called for me…

As soon as I opened the door, you announced, “Hey Daddy, I make snacks for the kids!”

My favorite part about that moment wasn’t even the fact that your potty bowl was being used as the serving tray for the Play-Doh “ice cream” for young consumers.

Instead, it was that you assumed the role of the adult, and you assumed that “the kids,” who evidently are other kids your age, look forward to the glorious (and sanitary) ice cream treats you have waiting for them in the bathroom.

I try to picture a dozen 2 year-olds lining up at our front door, eager to get a taste of the delicious soft serve ice cream you serve from your potty.

You were so proud.

In your mind, you were quite the heroic adult.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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What Are You Doing For The Rest Of Your Life?

April 28, 2013 at 1:11 pm , by 

2 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Thursday on the drive to school, I popped in one of my favorite CD’s ever, Mat Kearney’s Young Love.

In a random and successful effort to find a new way to entertain you, I handed over the jewel case with the lyrics; which instantly became a storybook to you.

While I’ve heard every one of those songs at least 273 times, a phrase from the very first song, “Hey Mama,” caught my attention:

“What are you doing for the rest of your life?”

It’s such an understated question. Naturally, though, the answer is simple:

You and Mommy. In other words, whatever I am doing for the rest of my life, it revolves around the two of you.

Granted, I had obviously given plenty of prior thought of spending the rest of my life with Mommy nearly five years ago when we got married.

But as for you, I hadn’t truly consciously put you in that same category; at least not since you were a newborn.

No matter what my calender says, your name is on every day for the rest of my life. There will never be a day that you don’t consume my thoughts.

It’s one of those things that every dad-to-be dwells on. I can remember now, how for the months leading up to your birth, I would constantly think about how you would forever change my life.

I would think about how my existence in this world would now cause a ripple effect which would be undeniable- simply because I was responsible in bringing you into this world, and more importantly, because the way I would raise you would make who you would become; for better or for worse.

So yeah, I haven’t given too much thought about that in the past nearly two and a half years. I’ve had so many other dad-related thoughts to consume my mind since then.

And that just goes to show you… you’re what I’m doing for the rest of my life.

 

Love,

Daddy