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dad from day one: The Role of Control in Life (and What That Has to Do with “Guest Towels”)

Week 11.

You are looking at a picture of our “guest towels”.  If you are one of the 7 (maybe less?) males to actually be reading this, you will be just as confused as I once was to learn that despite their name, guest towels, these are not actually towels intended for guests to use.  Granted, we do have extra towels for when guests do actually stay at our home- but those are in our “guest bathroom” on the other end of the house.  As a guy, who is unable to see any logic in having guest towels in the bathroom attached to our bedroom that are actually only there to look nice and for decoration, not actually for guests to use,  I found comfort in watching many male stand up comics who made a routine out of the same topic.

I am becoming more and more aware of how little control I actually have over my own life; much less my own house.  Because another common topic that married male stand up comics talk about is the fact that they don’t know where anything in their own house belongs: like the mixing bowl, the stapler, and of course, the real guest towels that are actually intended for guests for use.  And now it makes so much more sense why it is so common for the man of the house to spend time in his “man cave”, whether it is his garage, his shop, or even the yard.  Why? Because while in his solitude, he has a sense of control over something on the land he owns or rents.

Jack’s first taste of a pineapple.

I’m at a point in my life where I am constantly reminded of what little I actually do control right now.  With tomorrow reaching the 2 month mark of unemployment, the dignity of providing for my family has been surrendered. And without that, I also feel like I can’t control my time (because I feel guilty if I’m not constantly doing something constructive to find a job).  Starting on Christmas Day and ending yesterday (Groundhog Day), after my wife and son went to sleep each night, I would spend an hour or so revisiting my video game past.  I took take the time to go through all 3 Super Mario Bros. games on regular Nintendo, Super Mario World for Super NES, and New Super Mario Bros. for WII,  and beat them without using any Game Genies or Warp Zones (which again may only interest the 7 or less men reading this).  And while there is something seemingly pathetic about a jobless, 29 year-old guy cheering out loud because he beat Super Mario Bros. 3 for the first time in his life; for me, it was a major sense of accomplishment.

I controled those old-school, 8-bit Nintendo games.  And in some slightly true sense, I had control over my time as well.

I think it’s easy to overlook the importance of control in life.  Why is it that if you drive into certain “bad neighborhoods” that the residents stand in the road or take their sweet time crossing the street, knowing that you need to get by?  It’s gives them a sense of control.  Why are there rapists in the world?  Well, the easy answer is “the depravity of man” or “lust” or “an unfulfilled sex drive”.  But to me it’s pretty obvious that their hideous crime is also largely fueled by a lack of control in their own lives.  For more times than I can remember, it seems any time I watch a story on NBC Dateline about a rapist, he was emotionally, physically, or sexually abused growing up.  Some people will do anything for the sense of control in their own life.

So what can I do right now?  What can I actually control in my life at this moment? I can help with the basic needs of my son.  I can control whether or not he gets fed, held, played with, and nurtured.  And perhaps the best part, I can make him do funny, weird stunts to be featured on YouTube.  Because hey, what else am I going to do until I get a real job?

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dad from day one: Lumber Jack and the Great Christmas Tree Farm

Week 4.

I never had a real Christmas tree growing up-  my family always had a nice plastic one. But my wife always had a real tree; so this year, we decided to started a new tradition in our Shell household: Go to the Christmas tree farm and get a real tree, Charlie Brown.  So we drove 13 miles (two cities away) to a place called Shiloh and pulled into the gravel parking lot of “Down on the Farm”.

Right away we were met by the owner who welcomed us then said, “Just those few trees you see right there is all we’ve got left.”  I explained to him that we were just there to get a “Charlie Brown Christmas tree” for our new son.  The man gave me a handsaw and told me to drive my Element down the dirt road behind his farm and cut down the tree we wanted.  Before beginning our brief journey to find the perfect Christmas tree for a baby, I asked the man how much the tree would cost us.  He replied, “If it’s for that little baby boy you got there, it won’t cost you a thing.”

So thanks to Baby Jack and the friendly man at the Christmas tree farm, the new tradition has begun for Jack’s first Christmas: Not a tradition of having a full size tree each tree, but instead we decided to always have a small tree.  It’s just more fun.  We’ll leave the full size Christmas tree up the rest of the family.  It’s a great Christmas, Baby Jack.

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dad from day one: The Magical Mystery Tour… For Babies

Week 3.


In the aftermath of four baby showers, it’s easy for me to see that Jack has been well cared for by friends and family.  One of my favorite items of his is his pair of “vitamin socks” (featured above).  Maybe they’re supposed to look like little capsules from Dr. Mario; I don’t know.  But the fact that they have the word “vitamins” on the bottom of them makes them so classically random that I wouldn’t be surprised if they were designed in Taiwan.  My favorite part of his vitamin socks is that we have no idea where they came from.  We pull just pulled them out of his drawer one day and had them on Jack’s feet before we realized how hilarious and mysterious they are.

My parents recently bought Jack a swing, which is best for helping in to take long afternoon naps.  It has these three bears that fly around in circles over him.  Sometimes I feel that the things that work best for making him happy are the ones that make him feel like he’s tripping through the outer space of an alternate baby universe.  It doesn’t help that as he is swinging back & forth and up & down that “Sun King” from The Beatles’ Abbey Road album is playing in the background as I speak to him in a low voice right into his ear, “Jaaaack… I am your fah-ther…”  And when he’s not in his swing, it’s still so natural just to pick him up and fly him through the air like he’s Superbaby.

With some of his toys, I have been surprised at how they actually do what they are supposed to do.  We regularly use a Sleep Sheep that along with music and rain sounds, also has a “whale button”.  The harmonious conversations of actual whales at sea do indeed soothe Jack, even if they sort of freak me out.  There’s also this star we received that displays ocean scenes on the ceiling while playing our choice of either lullabye music or makes water sounds.  I never would have thought it to be the kind of toy we would actually use every single day, but it is: It works.  When it’s time for him to settle down for the night, we turn on the star and Jack becomes both mesmerized and hypnotized.

Being a baby must really be a trip…  I mean, what would you think if everyone talked to you in a high-pitched, slow motion voice and when you looked down at your feet, you realized they had turned into puppy dog heads?

 

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dad from day one: Diaper Duty and Sleeping Arrangements

Week 3.

Men aren’t supposed to like changing diapers.  And I suppose no one truly likes changing diapers, but something I have learned in these 3 and a half weeks so far is that it’s really not that bad right now.  He’s still in the “yellow, seedy poop” stage.  So I can’t honestly say that the smell is difficult to deal with.  The hardest part about changing his diapers is taking off his clothes and putting them back on.

The way I look at it, despite all that my wife does for not only our son but for us as well, if there’s one thing I can do efficiently, it’s to change his diapers.  Granted, as much as my parents and sister and her husband have helped out as well, it’s not like I’m changing the majority of his diapers anyway.  But if nothing else, I have learned that a dirty diaper is not something I fear or have any valid reason to avoid.  Though I do prefer it when he’s wearing a onesie: easy access.

In theory, Jack would spend the majority of his sleeping hours in his nice crib.  But in reality, during the day he sleeps wherever he ends up falling asleep.  Sometimes it’s his sock monkey bed, sometimes it’s the papason chair, and sometimes it’s somebody’s arms.  It’s funny how it’s an infant’s full time job to sleep.  When he wakes up, Jack typically goes through a 15 minute stretching ordeal.  I love how he is essentially exhausted from sleeping all the time.

I have always secretly wanted a fur coat- the chic yet manly kind like Rocky Balboa had.  That appears to be in the genes as Jack loves to be wrapped up in the finest, softest materials.  Jack lives such a glorious, pampered life.  He has an appreciation for the finer things in life.  But he also isn’t above loudly passing gas when people hold him.  That’s good- it shows he’s culturally balanced.

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dad from day one: Goodbye Nashville, You’ve Been Great…

Week 2.

I was just telling my wife last night how it’s amazing what five years can do for a person.  When I moved to Nashville on September 11, 2005, I was a single 24 year old college grad with no “real job” experience.  But since then, I’ve not only learned how to use a fax machine, but a year after moving here I met the love of my life and obviously recently started a family with her.  Five years ago I just knew that Nashville was where I was supposed to be- and without a doubt I was correct in thinking that.  But now, that same small voice that compelled me to move to Nashville is now leading the both of us to leave this wonderful city and start a simple life in a simple town.  So on Saturday morning, we will be making the two and a half hour trek to our new city of residence- and my new full time job will be finding a full time job.

Of course, Nashville will always be a big part of our lives.  I know it will be our getaway place from here on out.  We’ve made some great friends here. Friendships that we are confident will last a lifetime.  (Especially the ones who will let us stay with them when come back to visit…) I wouldn’t want to imagine life if I wouldn’t have moved to Nashville.  It was the right thing to do at the time.  But now it’s the right thing to do by moving to “Fort Who?”  It’s Fort Payne.  Not Pain.

We are extremely excited about the new life ahead of us.  Baby Jack will be raised around his family.  Which I recently found out is growing:  My sister told me last weekend that she and her husband are expecting their first child.  It couldn’t have been planned this perfectly.  Jack’s new and only cousin on my side of the family is expected to be born the week of our 3rd wedding anniversary.  The due date is July 2nd.  That means that Jack and his cousin will be in the same grade at the same school in the same small town.  Pretty cool, huh?