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Leave a comment Posted on funny, Nostalgia

Has Facebook Turned Me Into A Narcissist And/Or A Snoop?

May 7, 2014 at 9:10 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

If Facebook itself were a game to be won, it would be very difficult to determine the winner. It would be even harder tobecome the winner.

Here’s what I mean.

I would think that the true “winner of the game of Facebook” would be the person least perceived by their friends as a narcissist, yet somehow isn’t secretly a snoop.

Maybe I should create a Venn diagram? (See below.)

Let me just say, I definitely am no Facebook winner.

However, I don’t want to be identified as either a narcissist or a snoop… but if I outright deny that I’m neither, doesn’t that just prove I’m a narcissist?

Since last June, I have made a point to spend less than 5 minutes a day on Facebook- and my life has become better for it. (Narcissist comment?)

Basically, I’m usually on there just long enough each day to post pictures of our family, see if I received any new notifications, and take a look at a friend or family member’s profile if I’m wondering what they’re up to. (Narcissist comment?)

Then I get the heck out of there, before I’m tempted to make a divisive comment about politics, religion, or food.

But even then, I could easily see how I could be perceived as a narcissist. I mean, seriously- everyday I post a new picture of you, or a selfie of our family, or a story about you.

To some, I very well could be that annoying guy who is perceived as trying to make it look like he has the perfect family and the perfect life, thanks to the stage of the everlasting talent show/high school reunion of Facebook.

While I’m grateful for what I’ve been blessed with, I quickly and openly recognize that my life isfar from perfect. (Narcissist comment?)

However, I do believe in the importance in being a positive influence in society; which to some, can come across as being a show-off or self-obsessed.

And then on the other side of the spectrum, if I’m not a narcissist, am I a snoop?

If I’m not a person who is perceived as tooting my own horn all day with happy pictures and stories, am I instead the opposite- a person who is quietly snooping on everyone else, without giving out too much information about my own life? (Because that’s not fair, right?)

I wonder if I can get away with admitting that it can be very challenging to scroll down my Facebook feed without having some kind of judgmental thought about someone who is clearly crying out for attention; whether it’s a negative rant, a duckface selfie, or a “look at my awesome life!” update.

Full circle. Am I that happy narcissistic person? Or the snooping friend? Or am I simply both, by default?

I’m not good at playing the game of Facebook. I’m better off just sitting on the bench- throwing in enough sporadic comments and pictures that are positive and that don’t mention questions or comments regarding politics, religion, or food; that way I’m still contributing without oversharing and inviting people to unfriend me.

All I know is to keep doing what I do: Open the window to friends and family to let them see what is going on in my life, which is you and Mommy.

But (fellow) snoops are welcome too.

 

Love,

Daddy

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My Son Thinks Our Car Windows Are Voice-Activated

April 21, 2014 at 10:20 pm , by 

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Because I also write reviews for cars on the side with my personal blog, that means sometimes for months at a time, we get a brand-new vehicle each week to test-drive as a family.

With that being said, this past week we have been ridin’ dirty in a 2014 Toyota Tacoma.

This truck is the first vehicle you’ve ever been in where you can reach the power window buttons.

To a 3 year-old boy, that’s a really big deal!

For weeks prior, on the drive to school, I have been hearing you grunt and strain for several minutes, then proclaim:

“Daddy… I can’t… reach… the button. I can’t reach it, Daddy.”

But finally, this past week in the truck, I heard you announce, “Hey Daddy! I can reach it!”

Immediately, the power window started coming down.

For the past several days now, we’ve had to drive to and from school with your window down. You love to feel the air move through your fingers. It’s like the coolest thing ever to you.

This morning it was pretty chilly, so I turned the heat on full blast in order to counter the cold air coming in from your window.

You then saw my window go down as well, which prompted an amazed response:

“Hey Daddy! Your window moves by itself?!”

I realized you didn’t see that I had pressed the button, so I decided to have some fun with you.

“Jack, do want the window beside you to go down? You have to tell it to.”

You hesitated, only for a moment. You turned to the driver’s side back passenger window and spoke with authority:

“Window, go down!”

And it did.

“Hey Daddy, I made it go down! It listened!”

A few minutes later, the two remaining windows were down, thanks to your voice-activation.

Yeah, so I have a feeling from now on, with each different car we ride in, I’m going to be hearing you “voice-activate” the power windows.

It’s too much fun to let you know it’s really just me controlling them all from the driver’s seat.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

I Just Came Here To Read Comments

April 21, 2014 at 8:35 pm , by 

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

In several of my letters to you, I’ve made mention to you that simply by being a parent, I have become a more mature person.

It’s true. I’m now embarrassed by some of the things I’ve written to you over the years- and I wish I could say I’ll never say something stupid again.

But if I said that, I would be conceited, which would contradict the part about maturing as a parent.

One of the most relevant lessons I’ve been teaching myself  is “how not to say things that will end up making me sound judgmental of other parents or to be offensive to them.”

And I tell you- that’s a very tricky lesson to learn.

Ultimately, it’s dang near impossible not to step on someone’s toes.

I’ve discovered that even by talking about the possibility of you being an only child can offend other parents who are unable to have another child.

If I talk about our family’s plant-based lifestyle, it can be perceived that I am trying to convert other people to “unhealthy eating habits which keeps your family from getting the nutrients they need.”

If I speak neutrally about having guns in the house, or bronies, or why I believe spanking is not more effective than time-out, I’m going to either offend, upset, or at least get someone emotionally worked up.

You know what, though? I’m okay with that.

I do try to be as respectful as I can in my interactions with people in real life and social media; the latter of which is much more difficult.

In fact, trying to regularly participate in social media while talking about parenting topics especially can be harder than attempting to get through a Chips Ahoy cookie without eating a chocolate chip.

Therefore, there is now a very relevant Internet meme which features Michael Jackson eating popcorn, stating: “I Just Came Here To Read The Comments.”

It tends to show up in the comments section of controversial blog posts.

Actually, I just saw it featured this weekend on Facebook in the comments section of a Parents.com article, written by a parent who admits her family only goes to church on Easter.

Navigating the comments on social media has become almost ridiculous by now. I noticed last week at the bottom of a parenting article on MSN, they now have to offer up a list of “reportable” tags for comments:

There’s now a category for spam, exploitation, profanity/vulgarity/obscenity, copyright infringement, harassment or threat, and even threats of suicide.

Wow.

With that being said, I try not to offend those in the world of parenting… but these days, it’s not always easy to know who the actual Internet trolls really are.

I just have to tiptoe and tap-dance while being ready to duck and dodge potential tomatoes being hurled my way.

 

Love,

Daddy

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What Happens While Mommy’s Getting Her Haircut…

April 15, 2014 at 11:11 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

One of my jobs as “the dad” has always been to distract you from getting into trouble, or getting bored, while in public.

Over the weekend, Mommy had a haircut appointment at a salon, thanks to a Groupon.

I was able to distract you for about 8 minutes with the one magazine that wasn’t intended for actual desperate housewives… a hunting magazine, in which we only looked at the animals that had not been shot yet.

Hey, that’s just me being creative.

So I suggested we take a walk outside to see the other places in the shopping center.

We started out by watching the people exit the drive-through at Starbucks. But after only three cars, you were ready to run.

The shop right next to where Mommy was getting her haircut was a nails salon. The front door happened to be open, since it was nice outside.

You peaked in and saw the workers wearing masks over their noses and mouths to protect them from the fumes.

Your instant (and loud) response: “Hey, it’s the dentist!”

Then you ran down the sidewalk to check out the other stores. However, none of the others were open.

So we headed back by the nails salon. By that point, the owner was standing in the doorway, smiling.

I explained to him that you thought he was a dentist.

He went along with it. He then asked you if you have been brushing your teeth.

You assured him you have been. He offered to show you around the “dentist’s office” but you politely declined.

Once his wife caught a glimpse of you, she came over to ask you if you wanted to stay there at the “dentist’s” with them.

After you laughed and told her no, she surprised us both by making a face like a monkey (?) and flopped her arms around in the air, then started cheerfully grunting (?) to us, “Ooga-booga, booga-ooga!”

It was about that time that Mommy was all finished with her haircut and walked out of the salon. So we walked away with Mommy, backwards, smiling and nodding at the “dentist’s” wife; as she made you laugh all the way back to the car.

Yep, I guess we got what we were looking for:

Entertainment while Mommy got her haircut.

Uh… you’re welcome!

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on parenting, Storytelling

You Don’t Have To Teach A Boy To Make A Mess… Or To Find Trouble!

April 15, 2014 at 10:50 pm , by 

3 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

Saturday morning as we were getting ready to go to the Vanderbilt scrimmage game, which we actually missed because we were hanging way too long at a new vegan café we discovered thanks to a Groupon… you were being quiet and happy over at the window sill.

Finally, you announced to Mommy and me:

“Look, I’m killing this bug!”

Turns out, the thing was already dead. So I guess what you meant to say was that you were dissecting the bug… by smashing it with a vanilla-scented candle.

(All while wearing your “Just Like Daddy” t-shirt.)

Little black legs were everywhere.

I let you have your fun- after all, you’re a boy. You’re supposed to scrape up your elbows and knees… and make messes.

Granted, I don’t have to teach you to do this. You just naturally know where to find the right environment.

Again, I support it. You need to be a boy.

But it goes without saying that I provided you with the handheld vacuum cleaner and made you suck up all the loose bug body parts.

Then Sunday night while Mommy and I were preparing dinner, again you were being quiet and happy… the perfect combination for you to find trouble.

You had discovered some candy that you were supposed to save until Easter. Yeah, Mommy and I caught you “brown handed,” underneath your chair.

But we were laughing way too hard to be the least bit upset with you.

Besides, whether you had that non-approved candy then or on Easter, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway. Delaying the sugar rush only to add it to the jackpot on Easter doesn’t make much sense, I guess.

Being a boy is fun. Discover your world. I will be there to laugh with you. And sometimes, at you.

Can you blame me?

 

Love,

Daddy