July 21, 2013 at 2:09 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 8 months.

Dear Jack,

All Mommy and I really could do was just embrace ourselves and expect for the worst, as we boarded the plane yesterday morning from Nashville. It was your first time with your own seat on a plane (and that we’ve had to pay for one for you) and we didn’t know if that would be better or worse than you sitting in Mommy’s lap like the other two times we’ve flown to California.

The 90 minute flight to Minneapolis was fine, being that we all had to wake up at 3:30 AM to get to the airport in time. You were in a daze.

And during the one hour layover in Minneapolis, you were fine, because they offered free use of tablets, which you took advantage of by watching clips on YouTube of Jeeps plowing through the mud.

But by the 2nd half of the 3 and a half hour flight to San Francisco, you had plenty of energy to release… in the form of kicking the seats of the people in front of us.

I immediately (!) corrected that- by letting you kicking my legs instead.

It was the best idea I could come up with.

Trying to discipline an overtired, energetic, and restless toddler on a plane is a tricky thing.

After all, everyone was watching. And I just simply wanted to subdue you and most importantly, not make a scene.

Mommy was able to tone you down a little bit by pulling out crayons and coloring books for you.

About that time, the man sitting across the aisle from me, a friendly Wisconsin resident named Tom Potter and his wife let you borrow a couple of their grandson’s books… ones that you’ve never read, like Dr. Seuss’s Hop on Pop.

Soon after the plane landed, Tom and his wife, as well as the lady sitting next to them, all individually commented on how well-behaved you were.

My reaction was something like this: “Ha ha! Oh? Really?.. Um, thanks!”

I had prepared for a a meltdown, but fortunately, it never happened. This was a situation where less was more.

It was best to not try to discipline you for being an overtired, energetic, and restless little boy. You just needed a distraction.

In reality, you weren’t the token brat on the plane that annoys everybody. What a relief!

Having those people tell me that you were well-behaved made me feel really good.

As for the hour and 50 minute drive from San Francisco to Sacramento, you fell hard asleep about 10 minutes into the ride.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

July 16, 2013 at 12:00 am , by Nick Shell

2 years, 8 months.

Dear Jack,

As I look through the pictures from our Louisville Zoo trip on my Facebook page, I realize how challenging it is to find a picture of you with Mommy and/or me where one of us isn’t holding you.

(See the album “Louisville Zoo Road Trip Summer 2013.”)

Son, you’re more than half my height now. You don’t need me to hold you.

However, I recognize that’s the #1 way you show physical affection with people.

So it’s never been easy (or felt natural or right) for Mommy or me to refuse to hold you when you ask us to; which is pretty much anytime we’re in public, as well as when we are putting you to bed.

But now, I think the time has come.

You’re pushing 3 years old now. More importantly, Mommy is the one who holds you most.

She’s definitely strong, but you’re not a light kid, and I know that holding you all the time can’t be good for her back.

It’s a struggle as your parents to deny you the type of physical affection you crave, when we feel like we hardly ever get to see you anyway.

In our version of 2013, Mommy and I both have to work full-time; even though we’re debt-free now.

I’m taking it upon myself to transition you into you holding our hands and walking, and making up for the lack of closer physical contact in other ways.

Yesterday morning, I tried our new way of doing things.

“Jack, this morning when we go into school, you’re going to walk and hold Daddy’s hand.”

Yeah, it didn’t go well.

It was even worse when I came to pick you up at the end of the day.

You were so happy to see me, but then had a breakdown all the way out the building into the car.

And I imagine it will be that way for the rest of this week, at least.

I wonder in what new ways you will begin showing affection to Mommy and me as we transition out of holding you.

As you get used to walking in public and holding my hand everyday going to and from school, my hope is that it becomes more normal for you to let Mommy do the same.

After all, we were at the Louisville Zoo for nearly 6 hours and Mommy was the one carrying you around most of the time.

So here’s to a new transition in our lives. Oh yeah… we still need to work on that whole “potty training” thing too…

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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July 9, 2013 at 9:14 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

It’s done. I just uploaded the pictures from our weekend Louisville trip onto my Facebook page.

(See the album “Louisville Zoo Road Trip Summer 2013.”)

I love looking through those pictures, seeing how happy our family was.

And the way you smiled in most of them, it’s as if to say, “Yeah, I know I’m a sneaky rascal!”

The thing is, the happiness captured in those pictures came with a steep price- the total of 6 hours drive time to make those good memories possible.

It was rough…

We chose to drive there after work Friday night, hoping you’d sleep in the car.

You didn’t.

Not to mention, we were in the middle of heavy rain the whole time.

I did laugh, however, when you woke up in confusion as we were carrying you upstairs to our hotel room at midnight,  and you simply reacted by asking, “Wwwwwwhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy?…”.

By that point, I was so ready for rest, I didn’t mind taking the fold-out couch and letting you sleep in the real bed with Mommy.

But whereas I was actually asleep when I hit the “couch,” you stayed up until 2 AM with fidgety legs keeping both yourself and Mommy awake in the next room.

Fortunately, the splendor of the Louisville Zoo kept you entertained and in good spirits the entire 6 hours we were there.

That changed the moment we got back in the car for the 3 hour ride home.

You were extremely needy, you kicked the backs of our seats, you kept dropping your toys then screaming for them, you whined, you cried… and no seating arrangements between the three of us seemed to help.

Nothing we did or said would break your will.

(I’ve noticed that when people talk about their own temper, they attribute it to whatever ethnicity they are most aware of… I feel like it often tends to be an Irish reference. I’m not Irish, so I guess this is where I’m supposed to blame it on my Italian or Mexican heritage…)

I couldn’t take it anymore, I remember reaching behind my seat and grabbing the pink elephant squirt toy that the hotel gave you and throwing it in the floor, shouting something to the effect of “I told you to be quiet! I’m tired of you not listening to me! And I’m tired of you telling me ‘no’ when I’m talking to you!”

Mommy immediately advised to me to take the next exit so she could switch to the driver’s seat.

For the rest of the trip back to Nashville, Mommy and I tried something new:

We stopped answering you, looking at you, or responding to you in any way. Plus, we rolled down the windows to help drown out your screaming.

It took a challenging 45 minutes, but you finally shut down and fell into the deep sleep you needed so badly.

You’re a good kid. Sure, you’re iron willed, but so am I.

I will always make sure you get the discipline you need, when you need it.

But as Mommy reminded me, in her subtle and gentle way, this wasn’t a case of you needing discipline as much as it was you needing sleep.

Once we got home, we were both cool again.

The next time you act like a maniac, the first thing I’m going to do is ask myself whether or not your nap time or bed time was compromised. That way I won’t turn into the Incredible Hulk, even if you do.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

July 4, 2013 at 3:43 pm , by Nick Shell

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Saturday, your best friend Sophie stayed with us while her parents went to a wedding.  I had these preconceived ideas going into the event that, despite caring for two kids instead of one, it would not only be a lot of fun, but also, less stressful and chaotic than it usually is on the typical Saturday afternoon at our house.

Turns out, I was completely right! Sophie is so kind, so sweet, so cute, and so hilarious. That part was the icing on the cake.

The “cake” itself was the fact that you definitely were less needy than you typically are when it’s just you, Mommy, and me.

It’s that awkward number of three that makes the dynamics weird and often, more stressful, for me at least.

You rarely let Mommy prepare dinner or do anything productive without whining and hanging on to her legs, even though I eagerly want to play with you and your toys in the living room.

And I understand why, given the fact we both have to work while you’re at school all day.

But with Sophie here, making that new number 4 instead of 3, it was ideal. Everybody paired up throughout the afternoon.

Most of the time it was you and Sophie; me and Mommy. Or you and Mommy; me and Sophie. And a few times, you and me; Sophie and Mommy.

No one was ever left out; everyone had a role and a place. It worked. I liked it a lot.

From playing outside at the water table, to a luxurious wagon ride, to a delightful dinner involving mac and cheese along with Gogo Squeez applesauce pouches, the day had an excellent flow.

With that being said, I’m still not convinced that having another sibling would bring that sort of feng shui for our family.

After all, you and Sophie were born just one month apart. So basically, age-wise, you two are the equivalent of twins.

Not to mention, physically, you could easily pass as twins anyway!

But I’m not talking about twins in my scenario here. I’m talking about the possibility of Mommy and I having another baby; who would be a few years younger than you.

Those dynamics would be a lot different than having an equivalent girl version of you, plus you.

My reasons for wanting another child, when I sporadically do, are never sincere enough or truly legitimate. (Am I being too honest right now? Am I committing social media taboo by admitting that?)

I feel like my reasons are always selfish. If we’re going to grow our family, I want it to be “for the right reasons,” and I’m not even sure what they are anyway.

(Hmm… I wonder if that would make a good blog post?)

Yes, our family absolutely loves (!) Sophie and I really appreciate the dynamics she brings to our family; still, though, I think I’d be happy with just one kid.

I feel complete with a family of three. But, that could always change…

 

Love,

Daddy