March 9, 2013 at 11:45 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

You are a boy… and you definitely act like it. You make it so obvious that little boys are wired much differently than little girls.

It’s a rare sight to find you without some kind of overly masculine (and therefore predictably goofy) Hot Wheels car clenched tightly in your hand, whether it’s on the car ride to day care,watching Hard Hat Harry on Netflix at the house, or even navigating your way around any given playground.

At no point do you ever need me to tell you what little boys should like. You are currently obsessed with monster trucks, but it’s not something I prompted.

You just saw a toy monster truck one day and asked me, “I can like that? I take it home?”

The answer was obviously yes. Now you have like 7 of them.

One of your daily routines on the way to school now is to go through the colors of the rainbow in reference to monster trucks and/or Jeep Wranglers:

“I have a blue monster truck? I can drive it?”

I will reply, “Jack has a blue monster truck… He drives it!”

Next you’ll say the truck (or Jeep) is black, orange, purple, or even pink. Twice now you asked for a “dinosaur Jeep.” I’m still trying to figure that one out…

I contrast this against what I see the girls your age doing at daycare. They are always tending to either the baby dolls or the pretend kitchen and food; meanwhile the boys are wandering around, looking for trouble… I mean adventure.

It’s not that I have to stereotype little boys versus little girls. That’s just naturally how it ends up.

Even if you want to drive a pink monster truck or Jeep, the fact is still that you want to drive a monster truck or Jeep.

It would be different if you were fantasizing about a VW Bug, Mini Cooper, Mazda Miata, Dodge Neon, or a Toyota Rav 4.

I say you just can’t hide your masculinity, even behind the color pink.

Love,

Daddy

March 2, 2013 at 11:24 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

Since Mommy and I officially began allowing you to watch TV when you turned 2 a few months ago, you have had several temporary favorite TV shows.

It began with Sesame Street, then Thomas & Friends, and right now you’re pretty much stuck on repeat with the All About… series, featuring Hard Hard Harry, as he teaches you all about monster trucks, fire trucks, and bulldozers.

I’m cool with all that.

But as we scroll through the “Just For Kids” section on Netflix live streaming, you’re starting to request…Barney & Friends.

You have been occasionally watching Dinosaur Train, which is a non-annoying show. It has opened your mind to dinosaurs, but unfortunately, you happened to get curious about that big purple dinosaur too.

So I just need to come out and say it. I have a low tolerance level for Barney the purple dinosaur.

He sounds like a slightly more sober Krusty the Clown impersonating Pee Wee Herman.

I apologize in advance for any possible bravado which might reveal itself here, but to be completely honest from my fatherly perspective, Barney just isn’t the normal masculine type of character you typically choose to entertain yourself with.

Sesame Street has ugly monsters, some of which have slightly intimidating Eastern European accents.Thomas & Friends make expensive messes and crash all the time. Hard Hard Harry introduces you to big noisy machines…

Barney, on the other hand, well… I just can’t get past all the giddy jumping in place along with that voice, which I constantly find myself mocking.

On top of that, I just don’t find it to be realistic or educational enough for a kids’ show, compared to the stuff you usually want to watch. With that being said, I definitely won’t tell you no when you want to watch Barney.

I will say this, though. This afternoon you crawled up in my lap and wanted to watch three 30 minute episodes of Hard Hard Harry. That’s the longest you’ve ever wanted to watch TV in one setting; plus, it’s the longest amount of time I’ve ever let you watch TV.

(My butt fell asleep half-way through, and when I said that out loud, it really confused you.)

The way I see it, it takes a good 90 minutes of learning about boats, helicopters, fire trucks, and monster trucks from Hard Hat Harry to make up for the 8 annoying minutes of Barney you watched this morning.

Assuming that other parents are also annoyed by some their children’s favorite TV shows, I presented this question on The Dadabase’s Facebook wall today:

February 10, 2013 at 11:05 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

While I am definitely more mindful these days of trying to avoid the use of bravado in my letters to you, I must admit, my ego took a bit of a hit when I recently had to start riding in the backseat with you.

Something always seemed awkward, if nothing else, about seeing a wife drive the car while the husband was in the front passenger seat.

Well, at least it’s not that bad. The new normal is that Mommy drives and I accompany you in the backseat.

I have relinquished my role as the family chauffeur; a role that I feel is supposed to be mine, as the dad and husband.

But, as I had hoped when I implemented this plan, you are a lot less anxious, needy, whiny, and hungry now that it’s me sitting next to you in the back seat.

You see Mommy as the nurturer, which she is.

However, with me, you just want to chill out. Either you contemplate your life, deep in thought, as pictured right; or you like to be goofy with me as we sing the few lines we know of the songs from The Lorax movie:

“How ba-a-a-ad can I be?”

I’m curious to see how our new driving method will work on our next road trip.

We drove two and a half hours to Alabama last month, but it felt more like five. There was nothing Mommy could do back there to make you happy. Plus, you needed a nap, but that never happened.

Since I’m not the nurturer of the family, I wonder if it will be easier for you to fall asleep in the car if it’s me back there with you next time.

It’s just that your expectations are so much different (and lower?) for me as your seatmate, as opposed to Mommy.

You treat us differently. You are much more low-maintenance with me; you always have been.

Like I’ve mentioned last July in “The Hunger Games: Toddler Edition,” you are not as hungry and you ask for food less with I’m the parent caring for you. You can go for hours without thinking about food if it’s just you and me.

But with Mommy, you’ll eat two meals in a row.

So for now, I’ll be your backseat buddy. I shall entertain you, make you lose your appetite, and bore you to sleep.

Love,

Daddy