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Dear Jack: I Feel Like I’m Getting My Life Back, Part 2

3 years, 8 months.

Continued from Dear Jack: I Feel Like I’m Getting My Life Back, Part 1.

Dear Jack,

snail shell

I sort of feel like an actor who had a steady gig on a popular sitcom that ended.

This is my time to regroup and figure out who I am apart from the magazine I wrote for the past 3 years.

Keep in mind, you are currently 3 years, 8 months old.

That means for the majority of your life, at least two hours of each day of mine was consumed with me keeping the blog up.

I did 25 posts a month; over 1,000 different posts during those 3 years. That’s a lot of hours!

Now that I’m choosing to only do around 3 posts per week, half of what I’m used to, I find myself with more free time on my hands and less stress.

I really paid my dues as a daddy blogger and now I get to be on cruise control. It’s nice to sort of sit back and just watch you be a kid; not feeling that I have to constantly be writing a story about what I see in front of me.

I no longer am preoccupied when I come home, thinking about needing to check my email to see what my editors had to say or how the blog did that day.

Nor do I have to always be writing; sacrificing sleep and quality time with you and Mommy.

Just now, I finished Rocky on Netflix. I have time to watch movies now! That concept is very awesome to me.

I have more undivided time for both you and Mommy. I am liking life a lot more now.

It sounds weird, but I’m realizing that I am laughing out loud and smiling more now. I’m a happier person.

So much stress is off my shoulders and my brain. I feel like I’m getting my life back. And by “my life,” that always means you and Mommy.

 

Love,

Daddy

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I Actually Like Buying Groceries With My Kid

April 7, 2014 at 8:24 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

With Mommy and I both working full-time, it’s a fact that as a family, we are constantly running short on quality time for the three of us together.

So even though it would be more efficient for Mommy just to go buy groceries by herself on Saturday mornings while we stay home, we instead have made it a family routine that we all go to there together.

I have learned that quality family time isn’t always automatic; it’s often something we have to create.

Granted, buying groceries is not necessarily the most stress-free thing to involve a 3 year-old. But finally, it’s gotten to a point where I feel it really is quality family time for us… largely in part because our Whole Foods in Nashville recently purchased about a dozen kid-sized shopping carts.

On the car ride there each Saturday morning, you and Mommy read stories in the back seat while I drive.

Then once we get there, you grab a kid-sized cart and literally help me buy my specific items, like my Synergy brand Kombucha (a source of Vitamin B12 for vegans) and my bottle of balsamic vinegar (I avoid eating oils for salad dressing).

It’s a lot of fun for you and me both. You actually are quite helpful to me- you take the job seriously.

You don’t make a joke of the task. It’s not like you’re running around, crashing the cart into fruit stands. You’ve never tipped over the cart or made a mess of any kind while pushing that little cart.

Then, after we’ve collected my stash, we always have a father-and-son breakfast in the Whole Foods café; which is our version of going out to eat, since most restaurants are not very enticing to plant-based families like us.

By the time we’re finished with our vegan bars and coconut water, Mommy is finished with the rest of the shopping.

What’s not to like? It has become good quality family time for us.

Of course, that kid-sized shopping cart has a lot to do with that. It gives you a purpose and transforms you into Daddy’s little helper, while Mommy has time to do the hard work.  So that way everybody’s happy, even at the grocery store.

Love,

Daddy

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Mommy Handles Our Schedule And Budget… We Just Follow

April 3, 2014 at 7:46 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

This morning as I was dropping you off at school, you wanted to go over to your friend Avery’s daddy and ask him if Avery could hang out with us this Saturday for the free puppet show at the Nashville Library.

He was delighted you asked, as was Avery. His response: “That sounds like fun. Well, let me check with the ‘schedule keeper’ in our house, Avery’s Mommy, and we’ll let you know tomorrow.”

A few minutes later, you asked your friend Madison’s daddy the same thing. His response: “Yeah, we’d like to do that. Let me check with the person in our household who handles our schedule and we’ll see.”

Earlier this week, I was texting my friend Dave about going to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier on opening night.

Before texting me back, you guessed it… he checked with the “schedule keeper.”

Sort of like how I recently pointed out that it’s common knowledge that the modern dad does the dishes every night (or a staple household chore of similar value), I’ve observed another sign of a happily married father:

He quickly admits he doesn’t control his schedule.

So, when I’m asked about plans, I know just what to do: I refer that person to Mommy.

You and I both are just along for the ride.

Even as I’m the one driving our family around in the car on the weekends, I never really know where we are going until we’re loading up. Seriously, that’s how it is.

That’s okay by you and me. Wherever we end up, we seem to always have a good time.

And really, it’s the same way with our budget. Mommy handles that for our family.

When I want to purchase something, like tickets for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, for example, I run it by Mommy.

It’s not necessarily that I have to ask permission, per se, as it is I… collaborate with the CFO first (Chief Financial Officer).

Whether it’s the schedule or the budget, I’ve learned that pretty much, the answer is yes, but I don’t ultimately make that call independently.

Mommy and I play different roles in our household. I don’t have to worry about planning out our schedules or doing the budget. I do other stuff, which I plan to write to you more about next.

Like I said shortly after Mommy and I got married nearly 6 years ago:

I wear the pants in the relationship… but she tells me which ones to wear.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Just The Mention Of A New Sibling Makes My Son “Remember”

March 6, 2014 at 10:02 pm , by 

3 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

It’s interesting how sometimes you magically forget how to do such daily tasks:

“Mommy, help me eat my applesauce. I forgot how…”.

Of course, you especially love to forget how to clean up after yourself after playtime. I contrast this against the fact you always do such a great job of putting away your toys and puzzles when I pick you up from school each day.

You never need your teacher or me to tell you to do so.

Meanwhile, back at our house, not only do Mommy and I have to tell you, but we have to tell you a lot.

This past weekend as I was doing the dishes, Mommy asked you to put away your toys before getting ready for bed.

“Mommy, I don’t know how to. I forgot how to pick up my toys,” you announced.

Mommy responded, “Jack, do you want a brother or sister? That way they can help you pick up your toys?”

Immediately, you began cleaning up your toys. You didn’t even bother answering Mommy. It was one of the quickest clean-ups you’ve ever performed.

How did you so instantly remember how?

It seems as if the thought of a baby brother or sister getting to play with your toys is a bit troubling for you. As Mommy and I regularly (half-jokingly?) ask you if you want to have a brother or sister, your reply is typically the same:

“I want a poodle. A pink one. Or a brown one. Or maybe a hedgehog.”

So lesson learned. The next time you “forget” how to do something, I guess we’ll have to “remind” you, now that we know how.

There’s no guarantee you’re going to be an only child, you know. I’m just as curious as you are about what will happen over the next few years.

There’s also no guarantee we could definitely have another child if we decided we want to, so I don’t take that for granted. However, it’s interesting to see how you’re already reacting at just the mention of another sibling.

The “only child” in you is showing.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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Shared Memories Are Like A Time Machine

February 7, 2014 at 8:23 pm , by 

3 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

I have a theory.

It’s sort of like the one that asks, “If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound?”

My theory is that if you’re the only one in this world who witnessed and experienced an event, or at least the only one who still remembers it, then in essence, that event only happened because you remember it happening.

For example, I remember when I was in 3rd grade, in 1990, giving my teacher Mrs. Lawrence a Kudos bar (a chocolate covered granola bar) after I had already taken it out of the wrapper and placed it inside my cold metal desk.

I had just played a prank on Ferne Taylor, the girl next to me; where I pretended like I was going to give her my Kudos bar. In reality, it was just an empty wrapper.

After I performed the joke, I offered the chocolate covered granola bar to Mrs. Lawrence instead. (Why didn’t I give it to Ferne?)

I still remember the confused look on my teacher’s face, as she politely turned down my offer of a naked granola bar that was sitting in my desk.

The very next day I made it up by giving Mrs. Lawrence a Kudos bar, but this time, it was fully enclosed in the wrapper. (Again, what about Ferne?)

Now, that may seem like a random story, and it is…

But I’m sure that if Mrs. Lawrence or Ferne Taylor happened to read this story on Facebook, there’s a good chance they would have no memory of this event happening whatsoever.

In other words, this story only happened because I clearly remember it happening. I keep it alive with me; especially if and when I share this seemingly uneventful story.

Similarly, if a group of people remember the same memories, good or bad or neutral, they can exclusively travel in time to a different time and place.

A DeLorean would be convenient… and really cool. However, that’s not how time travel works.

Those random memories in our minds are the bookmarks in time that, in a way, help us instantly revisit those times and places anytime we want.

And that brings me to us: our family.

Our family of three will make, share, and revisit all kinds of warm and fuzzy memories for the rest of our lives.

The stories we will reminisce about may not seem special or funny or even that interesting to anyone else. But for us, we will be travelling back in time, because shared memories are like a time machine.

What we remember becomes our reality. We are creating our own shared reality each day.

That’s what these letters to you are all about.

I am attempting to expand our collection of family memories, so as we all get older, the three of us will have more places to “travel in time.”

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Photo: Diana Taub Photography.