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

I Wasn’t Meant To Be A Bachelor, But Maybe A Hula Hoop Star…

June 16, 2014 at 9:12 pm , by

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

For the past couple of nights I have come home to notes from Mommy telling me how long to preheat the oven to cook her homemade vegan dinners.

How awesome is Mommy?Seriously!

Let me tell you, life without you and her in the house is so… quiet.

I can hear the refrigerator, the ceiling fan, and even the lights.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that’s a good thing.

That’s my way of saying that there are no “signs of life” other than me in the house.

I should explain; you and Mommy are visiting family out in California for a few days before I get there. (Mommy had more vacation days from work than I did.)

Last Saturday morning, after we packed up your new Okiedog rolling suitcase with several GoGo Squeez pouches and free apps on Mommy’s Kindle, I dropped you both off at the Nashville Aiport.

Since then, I have rediscovered my impressive hula hoop skills, while visiting my side of the family in Alabama: Saturday was also my 15 Year Class Reunion.

But trust me, I am ready to see you and Mommy again.

I just wasn’t meant to be a bachelor. My identity is so closely woven into me being a husband and a dad, that every other part of my life just seems silly.

Everything else seems like I’m just waiting in line for something to happen.

I was meant to be your Daddy. I was meant to be married to Mommy.

Whether it’s fate or not, what I do know is that you and Mommy are parts of my life that unquestionably make sense.

It’s like peanut butter and jelly. Though really, when you think about it, peanut butter and jelly make for an odd combination.

But it’s a combination that works- like you, me, and Mommy.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

New Infographic: Under Construction- The Ins And Outs Of Today’s Heavy Equipment Vehicles

May 9, 2014 at 10:15 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

For the past several weeks on the drive home, I found a lesser discoverd route by driving through connected neighborhoods.

You named it “the new Daddy way.”

Even though we take that way home every day now, you still ask for it by name each time we hop in the car.

Part of the need for this new way home is the congestion on our former route, as Concord Road is being destroyed and people’s front lawns are being taken away…

I mean… the road is being widened to accommodate the traffic which we’re a part of.

But today, I drove home the construction site way because I thought there was an $8 sale going on at Great Clips. (I was wrong; it ended yesterday. Womp-womp.)

It had been nearly a month since you got to see the new version of that old familiar road.

You screamed out from the back seat today:

“Hey Daddy, it’s the white crane! He’s back!”

That’s right. To you, the giant crane is a he. Like a dinosaur.

It’s such a majestic sight to see all that construction equipment.

You sat in awe in the back seat.

I guess it’s not everyday you get to see such monstrous machines so close up.

It’s like cheap entertainment. (Well, actually, it’s our tax dollars affording that entertainment. Right?)

I found this infograph which shows the weight, horsepower, and average used price of several pieces of staple construction equipment.

For example, if we wanted to save up our money as a family, we might eventually (!) be able to buy a good bulldozer, for example, for about a half million dollars.

That would definitely make us the coolest family on the block!

But until we can put a solid down payment on one, you can just appreciate the “free” entertainment from the 2nd row seat.

 

Love,

Daddy

construction equipment infographic

 

Who’s The Boss? (Minus Tony Danza)

April 23, 2014 at 6:23 pm , by 

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

When you woke me up Easter morning, on my 33rd birthday, one of my immediate thoughts was not, “Man, I can’t believe I’m this old!”

Instead, it was, “Man, I’m 33 years old and have a 3 and a half year-old kid who thinks I’m in charge!”

I thought about how three decades ago in 1984, there were two different sitcoms that premiered which contained premises and titles featuring the uncertainty of the character with the assumed authority:

Who’s The Boss? andCharles In Charge.

Granted, just a few seconds earlier I was in a deep sleep probably dreaming something weird, but I think my subsconcious was making a good point:

I evidently doubt my credibility as your dad.

While it’s no secret that Mommy is the officer in charge of our schedule and budget, there’s a lot I’m in charge of, as it pertains to you.

I have to remind myself of that.

It may not seem like a big deal, but I am responsible for getting you to and from school (in Nashville traffic!) each day.

While you’re in the back seat, having fun pretending to have a cracker for an eyeball, I’m actually having to proactively keep us alive and well… not to mention get you and I to school and work on time.

Each night after you keep calling Mommy back upstairs (for the 3rd time) after she’s already put you to bed, it’s me that comes up there to truly sing you the last song. Because you know that my last song really is the last song!

You have a reverence for me that is much different than how you perceive Mommy. (And I don’t even spank you.)

If nothing else, you know that at any given moment, I may make you wrestle me on the carpet and then I’ll tickle you when you lose.

Yeah, and I’m sort of in charge of you. Isn’t that scary?

Who’s the boss? Me, actually. Not Tony Danza with his wonderful tapdancing moves.

 

Love,

Daddy

My Kid Is The Best At Everything In The Entire World!

April 22, 2014 at 8:32 pm , by 

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

I’m guessing it’s normal and natural for every parent to secretly assume that their own kid is just automatically the best at pretty much everything in the entire world.

Yep, I can relate.

This past weekend over Easter I was just thoroughly impressed by your watercolor painting skills. I mean, you’re only 3 years old.

All you needed from me was a cup of water to dip your paintbrush into. You did the rest while I did the dishes.

I mean seriously, you did better than I could have.

And then today I saw another painting you did at school.

When I saw your name next to it, I thought it was a mistake. I though surely a 4 or 5 year-old must have down a work of art as complex as that.

Or even Eric Carle himself.

Nope. It was all you.

So of course, that only reinforced my preconceived idea that you are such a talented artist.

I am your dad- I am wired to believe you are an exceptional kid… because you are!

It’s not just your artistic skills, though. Even just the way you think amazes me, for a 3 year-old.

When you play with your Hot Wheels these days, you’re always putting on a show.

You have me help you hand-select the classic cars, the hot rods, the race cars, and the trucks to place in the race. Then all the other Hot Wheels have to form a huge, long line to go see the show.

It’s something you are very strategic about. You even make sure the police car and ambulance are placed right next to where the race is, to prepare for accidents… which are guaranteed to happen with you in charge!

Do other 3 year-old little boys paint like you and create big shows with your Hot Wheels? Is that typical?

Probably.

But hey, I am your dad- I am wired to believe you are an exceptional kid… because you are!

 

Love,

Daddy

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