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The Trinity of Father, Son, and Saintly Mother

June 21, 2011 at 8:56 pm , by 

Seven months.

What does your “art” tell about what you value?

baby dedication

While earning my English degree at Liberty University, I was taught in my “World History of Art” class that artists honor what they value through the subject matter of their work: If a caveman etched an outline of himself clubbing a stegosaurus to death, it meant that he prided himself in his abilities to provide dinner for his village.

This “art equals value” concept can apply to many different areas in our lives; even without it officially being art.  One of the most obvious examples is my desk at work.  I keep things pretty tidy; not a whole lot of decoration. But the little bit of flare I do have points to the same central theme: my wife and son.

My computer’s screen saver is a picture of my wife holding Jack, as is the background on my cell phone.  My coffee mug is one that my wife customized for me on Shutterfly, featuring Jack.  Sitting on my desk is a small framed family portrait.  Hanging on my “food shelf” is a paper-clipped wallet size of Jack when he was just a week old.  On my other shelf is a framed “Happy 30th Birthday, Daddy!” certificate made with Jack’s inked hands.

So in essence, everyday is “Take Your Kid to Work Day.”  No matter which direction I am looking while at my desk, I see my son.  And of course my wife as well.  Because obviously, they are what I value the most; always on my mind and in my heart.

The three of us are sort of like our own trinity; all separate entities yet paradoxically one in the same.  I will always be a part of my son and he will always be a part of me; you can’t get the son without getting the father and you can’t get the father without getting the son.

The Dadabase

The Dadabase

The same goes with my wife; neither Jack nor I are complete without her.  We are one intertwined family unit.

Even when I am physically away from Jack and Jill during the day, it doesn’t change the closeness we share.  And I guard that closeness with all my time, all my heart, all my soul, all my strength, and all my mind.

So that neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, not even Facebook nor cell phones ringing during dinner time, may separate us from the love we share.  Our family bond goes beyond a marriage covenant and shared bloodline.  It’s literally out of this world.

sleeping baby

 

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We’re Our Own Paparazzi and TMZ Show

June 19, 2011 at 9:17 pm , by 

Seven months.

The Dadabase

Anywhere we go with our son, my wife and I also take our four year old digital camera.  Between the two of us, we always have to be prepared to take a shot of Jack doing something for the first time.  Or we have to provide proof of just how cool he looks in that moment.

As I was recently making creepy lizard faces at my son to make him laugh, I shared with my wife the realization that Jack won’t actually remember any of this.He won’t remember me pushing him around in a diaper box.  Or my wife pretending to be a chicken.  It hit me that all our crazy antics we do to entertain our son end up amusing the two of us just as much as they do him- but only we will actually remember it the next day.

Jack in the Box

My sister’s memory began when she was one and a half years old (in 1985) and mine began in 1983 (on my 2nd birthday.)  Based on what I learned in Childhood Psychology in college, my sister and I are the exception to the rule to have a memory that began “recording” that early.  But even when Jack’s long-term memory does kick in, there will only be random memories that stay with him for life.

But I guess that’s the way our entire lives are: We only remember certain memories, frozen in the nostalgic part on our brains, sometimes disguising themselves as dreams from childhood.

If you are the only person to remember an event happening years after it occurs, you hold the exclusive rights to it occurring. In theory, it only happened because you remember it.  If you ever forget it, then it’s technically the same as it if it never happened, especially if no one else was there to notice the event happening: Especially ifthere were no photographs or videos taken of the event.

As one of the main photographers and the official journalist (daddy blogger) of Jack’s early years, I am preserving these otherwise forgotten details.  These stories won’t just be simply contained in the memories of my wife and I, but they will be waiting for Jack to learn about when he gets older.

Parents magazine

In the title I proclaimed that my wife and I are our son’s own paparazzi and TMZ show.  But that concept is a universal one; it doesn’t just apply to us because I publicly journal my son’s life in a blog on Parents.com.

In an age where Facebook photo albums have replaced actual photo albums like our parents had to put together for us, chances are if you are tech savvy enough to be reading a parenting blog, you can relate to the allusions to being your own paparazzi and TMZ show for your kids and family.

funny baby

P.S. This is my 100th post here on The Dadabase!  You can start from the beginning or catch up on anything you missed in between: Just click on the archives on the right side of the screen.  They go all the way back to when we first found out we were having a baby.

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Jack the Ripper: A Real Gas Act

June 13, 2011 at 10:01 pm , by 

Six months.

The DadabaseHere at The Dadabase, I try to keep things classy, but it doesn’t help when Jack would rather keep them gassy.

I only know what it’s like to have a little boy.  If my wife and I ever have a daughter, I’m sure things will be dramatically different.  One of the main differences I wonder about is if baby girls are as gassy as my son.

Males are expected to be funny.  And Jack definitely is.  Even as a newborn with closed eyes who slept most of the time, Jack made a habit of breaking the ice (by breaking the wind) with every new person who would hold him.  It was his way of saying, “Hi, nice to meet you.”  A bit of an initiation for each new person, as well.

Nearly seven months later, Jack’s still practicing his potty humor.  Last Sunday as I was driving home after church, my wife reminded me that we needed to stop the car for gas.  Right on cue, Jack did his part to help: “Ppppffffffthhh…”.

The Dadabase

Later that day, I was holding Jack out on the front porch, letting him gaze at the sheep farm across the street.  One of the farm workers pulled up in a red pick-up truck.  He had the windows open and the radio on.  A Pat Benetar song was playing: “Hit me with your best shot… Fire away!”

So Jack did.  Like he actually knew what he was doing.

I can’t keep from laughing out loud at his gas antics, especially when we make conversation with Jack and his response is simply “ppppffffffthhh…”.  It’s as if to say to us, “You know what I think about that…?”

The Dadabase

In his head, he has already associated his “gas leaks” with humor.  Even when he’s not feeling himself, I can make the (in)appropriate sound with my mouth, and without fail, Jack immediately starts laughing out loud.  Sure, I’ll eventually have to teach him to behave properly in public as he gets old enough to understand manners and self-control.  But until then, Jack gets a free pass on passing gas.

And I guess that’s one of the many reasons that children take us back to a more carefree place.  Without worrying  about social expectations, without having to appear to always keep it all together, without a necessary world of concerns, children ultimately remind us of a time when the biggest problem in life was that Teddy Ruxpin’s size D batteries needed to be replaced.

For what it’s worth, it took four of those stupid batteries.

The Dadabase

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The “Disconnect to Reconnect” Father’s Day Challenge

June 9, 2011 at 10:54 pm , by 

Six months.

baby and TV remote

As much as I fantasize about being a full time writer, the truth is, I work from 8 AM to 4:30 PM every weekday at “my real job” in a sales office. Writing for Parents.com isn’t all I do for a living, in other words; it’s my part time job.  So it’s only natural for intuitive readers to wonder the question, “How do you have time to write six new posts each week for The Dadabase without neglecting your wife and son?”

It’s easy: I sleep less than most people (usually not more than six hours a night). And I only write when my wife and son are asleep.  From roughly 10 PM to 11:30 PM, then again from 6:00 AM to 7:10 AM everyday, I am always writing.

The Dadabase

That means that when I am at home with Jack and Jill, I literally am at home with Jack and Jill.  My policy is that I don’t turn my laptop on while they are awake. That way, I’m not distracted by the blogosphere where I am an active citizen.  As for me and my house, that’s the only way it could work.

I disconnect (from electronic social media distractions) to reconnect with my family while they are awake.

So when I received a challenge from author and media consultant Phil Cooke, asking dads everywhere to disconnect from technology – phones, Facebook, Twitter, email, TV – and spend quality time with their kids for 24 hours this Father’s Day, I knew I could handle it.

My wife and I worship the concept of quality time and giving each other our undivided attention, to the best of our abilities.  We are constantly aware of our need as a married couple with a child to make the most of the little bit of time we have together each day, balancing both family time and time alone as a couple.

So when we do watch TV together, the rule is that it has to be something we both want to watch, like American Idol or The Office.  Or a TV series through Netflix, like Mad Men; which is our current show.  And for the times our son is asleep and we both have a lot of stuff to get caught up on in the Internet world, we do what we have to do but label that time as “personal time.” We fully recognize that time as necessary for us as individuals, but we know full well it is not quality time together; even if we’re sitting next to each other.

This challenge is inspired by Phil Cooke’s new book Jolt! Get the Jump on a World That’s Constantly Changing (April 2011, Thomas Nelson), which lays out 25 “jolts” to help us set the “reset” button on our priorities and boundaries.  I am interested to see how his book fills in all the blanks and connects the dots regarding the importance of “unplugging” in the name of quality time with family.

So here’s the deal for my male readers.  (Do I actually have any?  As long as I’ve been a daddy blogger, I’ve just always assumed at least 97% of my readers are female.) For the first three men who agree to take the challenge with me to unplug for 24 hours on Father’s Day, I will arrange for a free copy of the book mailed to your house.  Just let me know your name and mailing address by leaving a comment on this post. And as long as you are one of the first three to agree to take the challenge, you get a free book.

I will leave my phone and computer alone on Father’s Day! Will you?

The Dadabase
*Thanks and congrats to the first 3 dads who jumped on board and will now be receiving the free book: Mike Mitchell, Marc Theriault, and Mario Sollecchio!
 
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Jack’s Baby Dedication: Faith and Parenting

June 4, 2011 at 1:54 pm , by 

Six months.

A few weeks ago on Mother’s Day, my wife and I had Jack “dedicated” at our church.  If you are not familiar with this Protestant practice, a “baby dedication” is a public ceremony where the parents of a new baby promise, in front of the pastor and the congregation, to grow up their child in the faith.  As Jack’s parents, it is our responsibility to lead and guide him in our own moral and spiritual beliefs.

My son will not be left on his own to figure out who God is and why we believe that God’s love is the reason for our existence. Sure, Jack will have to make up his own mind when he gets old enough, but my faith is so crucial to every fiber of my being, that as a father I believe that one of the most important tasks I will ever have is to teach my son about the next life, as well as, teaching him to love others as himself in this life.

While I do value the public act of dedicating my son to the building up and growing of the heavenly kingdom we believe comes after this earthly life, the private version happened before he was even born.  As Jack was still in the womb, I prayed for him. And now that he’s here, I continue to pray for him. After all, I believe that I haven’t simply brought another life into this world, but that I am also responsible for bringing another soul into existence– a soul I am unmistakably accountable for teaching what I believe is the meaning of life.

Whether you have been following my daddy blog since the beginning (April 13th, 2010) or whether you just recently started tuning in thanks to Parents.com picking up my series, something noticeably undeniable yet decently subtle in my writing content is the intertwining of my family’s everyday life events and our Christian faith. According to Wikipedia, nearly 80% of Americans identify themselves with Christianity (from Catholic to Protestant, and everything in between).  So I would assume that nearly 80% of readers will identify with me when I write about my faith.  For the other 20%, who have a different religion or maybe not one at all, please know that I welcome you just as much to The Dadabase.

Because no matter which faith we call our own, something we all have in common is that we are parents.  We have children who we are trying to raise the best we can.  And just like the faith of our choosing, so parenting is also a journey.  By no means do I have my faith 100% figured out- I’m being humbled and broken down more everyday, and therefore maturing as a believer.

Just like, as a parent, I’m learning as I go.