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Leave a comment Posted on funny, parenting, Spirituality

What Does “Gods” Look Like?

June 6, 2014 at 10:37 pm , by

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

After our routine prayer before dinner one night earlier this week, you asked Mommy and me, “What does ‘Gods’ look like?”

That’s one of those classic kid questions. I love it.

Yet I was so caught off guard by your sincere question of what God looks like, that now, I couldn’t even positively tell you how I answered you.

I mean, you’ve grown up with prayer in our house: In the kitchen before meals, in front of the house before we all leave for work and school, and in the car before we go on long trips.

You’re very familiar with the concept of our family speaking to someone we can’t actually physically see.

Just tonight, while you were holding hands with us during prayer, you began whispering the words to “Ring Around The Rosie.”

I thought you were attempting to pray.

Actually, I guess you were- the best way you knew how.

Still, you have the ability to understand that God is real and invisible; unlike monsters, who you know are not real and only visible on cartoons.

I love admiring the way you are attempting to understand God; because I’m in the same boat, just about 29 years ahead of you.

Of course, speaking of years, the way I see it, time only exists as we know it because of the rate at which the Earth spins and the rate at which it rotates around the sun and the rate at which our temporary bodies age.

That’s how we measure time here on Earth.

But beyond us, greater than us living on this planet, I wonder if time really exists?

Is it true that my Italian grandfather who I was so close to growing up is actually waiting to meet us in Heaven? Or in the “Heavenly Time Zone,” will we pretty much just appear there about the same time he arrives?

So many questions I have about God and Heaven and what life really is like outside of our version of life right now.

With that being said, just know that when you asked what God looks like, it’s something I wonder too.

I think a lot of people are going to be shocked if He doesn’t have a long white beard and a robe.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on funny, Nostalgia, parenting

With Great Blessings Come Great Responsibility (And Stress!)

May 27, 2014 at 8:12 pm , by

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

In my extremely limited ability to understand the concept of eternity and life after this, sometimes I subconsciously and erroneously tend to think of Heaven as a place where I could just exist in a state of unconsciousness and it not affect anyone else; void of responsibility or pressure to perform.

Sounds like I’m not the only one in that boat, after reading the comments on the Facebook page for Parents.com when they featured my story, “Daddy’s In His Quiet Place Right Now.”

Many fellow parents (understandably) laughed at the concept of a modern day parent having any escape from the overwhelming pace of life that kicks in once you become a parent.

I used to be extremely optimistic, like all the time.

But those were the days before… responsibility happened.

That was before I was truly feeling the pressure of what life (AKA “the real world”) actually demands from a person.

Of course, I also remember feeling lost, alone, and unfulfilled back when I was still single. Not a coincidence.

That’s because with great blessings come great responsibility; and therefore, stress.

A job, a wife, and child are all blessings. However, I’ve learned to begin equating the word “blessing” with “responsibility.”

Now, before I sound like I’m going off the deep end, I want to balance this with the other side of the story.

Earlier last week, I was at of one of my good friends’ house, hanging out with him on his front porch, while his family was out of town. We talked about how nice it was to be able to “unplug” for brief moments at a time like that.

Then we talked about how if life weren’t this chaotic, and if we as dads and husbands weren’t overloaded with responsibilities like we are, we would go crazy.

Without a regular dose of being stressed out, I get stressed out.

It makes me think of a line from one of my favorite Dave Matthews Band songs, “So Much To Say”:

I say my hell is the closet I’m stuck inside.

If in this exhausted (and limited) state of mind, a seemingly reasonable version of Heaven would be a state of unconsciousness, void of responsibility or accountability, then it makes sense that my concept for understanding hell would be a place where I was conscious, alone and bored out of my mind, with no responsibility or accountability.

I’ve heard the saying, “too blessed to be stressed.” Yeah, I’m not sure I agree with that.

Because the way I see it, if I am stressed, then I am blessed.

Otherwise, I would be searching for a life without responsibility, which is what I had before I had you, Mommy, a full-time job, and two part time jobs.

And back then, I felt incomplete.

These days, I can honestly say I never feel incomplete, or alone, or not needed, or unloved. I say stress is a good thing, if it traces back to responsibility and blessings.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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Official Announcement: My Son’s Nose Now Works

May 22, 2014 at 8:56 pm , by

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

It’s official: You have a nose… and it works!

This whole time, I seriously thought there was a good chance you were born without a sense of smell. But I didn’t want to say anything to anyone about it or draw attention to that fact… a fact that was, in fact, just fiction.

(Thanks to Wikipedia, I learned the word for not having a sense of smell: anosmia.)

But now I know, that does not apply to you. All of the sudden, around the time you turned 3 and a half, it’s like the switch came on.

You were just a late bloomer in a world that indeed has different smells.

Before your nose started working, it was like you only knew smells based on their sounds…

These days, it’s like your nose is the first on the scene!

Yesterday morning on the way to school, you asked me, “Daddy, do you smell that?”

I answered honestly that I did not.

You didn’t like my response, mainly because you are ready now for a vacation from school, so you were quite sensitive:

“No Daddy! You do smell that! You do!”

I decided to agree with you.

What’s funny about your newfound sense of smell is that it’s like you don’t yet appear to recognize whether something smells good or bad.

In other words, you don’t get all worked up over bad smells. “Bad” is just another flavor of the smelling rainbow. It’s probably just next to bananas or Play-Doh.

Your main concern is making sure that whatever you are smelling, you’re not smelling it alone.

The switch has been flipped on. You can officially smell things now.

One day, you will learn to (not) appreciate the concept that indeed, certain things smell better than others.

Until then, I will let you figure out on your own which are which.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Daddy, Do They Still Make Old Mans?

May 19, 2014 at 8:51 pm , by

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Saturday morning, I introduced you to The New Woody Woodpecker Show on Netflix.

As soon as you saw Dr. Von Kook, you proclaimed, “Hey Daddy, that’s an old man!” It was if he was a purple magical unicorn or something.

Then there was that perfect 5 second delay before you gave me a classic follow-up comment:

“Daddy, do they still make old mans?”

You were completely sincere in your curiosity.

I suppose I said yes somewhere in the midst of my immediate uproar of laughter, but I don’t necessarily remember it.

It’s hilarious to imagine human factories that manufacture people; that they purposely make “old mans.”

Which is the other thing I love about your question: the alternative way to make “man” plural… just add an “s”.

Yes, Son, they still make old mans.

Nick Shell shared The Dadabase‘s status.
May 17

“Daddy, do they still make old mans?” -Jack #thisjusthappened
In fact, I’m simply 29 and a half years ahead of you on the journey to becoming an old man myself.

I am especially reminded of that since my past couple of haircuts; noticing that my hair is now a tad thinner than it was just a few years ago.

Like most men, I will gradually go the way of the ever manly Bruce Willis. With each Die Hard sequel, he appeared wiser, tougher, more experienced, and even cooler.

And I’m totally fine with my follicle fate.

Back in 1991, I remember standing at the bathroom counter in the house I grew up in, which was furnished with the finest dark brown wall paneling and dark brown shag carpet.

As I brushed my teeth one night, I remember looking at both of my parents, who were the age I am now, around 33.

I thought, “One day I will be 33 like them. I’ve got so many years until I get there. But one day, that’ll be me.”

I was 10 at the time. I decided in that moment, to consciously remember that forever, like a permanent bookmark.

But now, that “one day” has come. I am now that age.

Granted, 33 is not old or even close to it.

They still make old mans, but I’m definitely not one of them yet.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Top photo: courtesy of The New Woody Woodpecker Show.

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Strawberry Banana Quesadillas On The Dark Side Of The Moon

May 11, 2014 at 4:35 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Saturday morning after you and Mommy made Strawberry Banana Quesadillas for breakfast, which we all loved, we decided to use the creative parts of our brains by doing some artwork together.

In our closet, you discovered some colorful foam sheets to draw on with markers. Mommy and I drew some animals per your request, while you worked on abstract pictures.

After each time you finished a new work of art, you held out the newly colored foam sheet in air and announced your next creation:

“Hey Daddy, look… this is a Skittle Fan. I think it’s an animal.”

You then explained to me your intentions. You planned to make enough works of art so that you can give one to each of your friends at school. Awesome idea!

My favorite was the last one you did. You announced to me:

“Daddy, this one is a dark, sedway moon. I think I dream about these things at night.”

Dark, sedway moon… So mysterious, so profound.

What if you really do dream about dark, “sedway” moons and your artwork is actually a window to what you dream about at night?

What if your abstract dreams will predict the future of what will happen in real life? Like a prophetic dream?

What if this is the premise of a PG-13 rated psychological thriller movie starring Robert De Niro or Greg Kinnear?

I think it could be. Hollywood will be calling me soon for the movie rights… I’m sure of it.

Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it. Actually, I think I just figured it out right now as I’m typing this: Maybe “sedway” is just your way of trying to say “side of,” as in, “dark side of the moon.”

Maybe you and I should play Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of The Moon while watching The Wizard of Oz. Or at least watch the 3rd Transformers movie.

I wasn’t even for sure that you dreamt at all yet. Now I know.

You are a fascinating kid, you know that?

Just another typical Saturday morning: Strawberry banana quesadillas and dark side of the moon.

 

Love,

Daddy