parenting

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This is 36: My Back Yard is Constantly Littered with Plastic Grocery Bags Filled with Poopy Diapers

It makes perfect sense, I’m sure. Actually, I’m confident that my story is not unique. It’s pretty simple and (assumedly) universal, really:

When our 1 year-old daughter has a poopy diaper, we reach for a plastic Kroger bag from underneath the kitchen sink, using it has an insulator for the smell. Then, without fail, I open up the back door and toss it towards the garbage bin near our fence.

Every couple of days, I have to take out a big bag of trash anyway. That’s when I pick up the 2 or 3 bags of poop to place them in the garbage bin.

What’s the point in walking out to the garbage bin every single time my daughter has a dirty diaper? That doesn’t work for the lifestyle of the Shell household. It wouldn’t be prudent.

On a daily basis, when we’re all home together, my wife is constantly running around the house in the midst of cooking meals and doing laundry, while I am constantly entertaining and occupying not only our daughter, who isn’t quite walking yet, but I am also doing my best to make sure our 6 and a half year-old son is keeping himself productive in some sort of activity.

It’s not worth the time to run outside for the sake of a dirty diaper that is already inside of a plastic bag. I’ve got too many duties that relentlessly need my attention, inside the house.

Besides, our yard is fenced in. It’s not like the neighbors can see the dirty diaper bags; not unless they specifically go upstairs in their homes then look over to our yard.

That would just be nosy.

Therefore, it remains one of our family secrets.

No one can see, so no one can know.

It’s not like I’m posting pictures of the dirty diaper bags on the Internet, bringing attention to it.

This is 36.

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Dear Jack: You Graduated Kindergarten This Week!

6 and a half years.

Dear Jack,

This Tuesday, just a few days after you won your Math Award in front of the entire school, Mommy and I made our way back- this time, to watch our 6 and a half year-old son graduate Kindergarten.

The festivities began with a presentation in which your entire Kindergarten grade sang a song, which reviewed to us parents all that you learned this year.

Afterwards, we made our way to your classroom, where your (pregnant) teacher presented each individual student with a specific award.

What’s funny about this is that before we all left the house that morning, I took your picture while you held a small chalkboard reading, “When I grow up, I want to be an artist.”

There’s no way that when Mommy came up with the idea for me to take that picture of you, she could have known your teacher would be presenting you with the Amazing Artist Award!

You teacher then presented a 15 minute slideshow on Power Point, which reviewed all the fun your class had this year. And sure enough, she had a picture further reconfirming your focus on becoming an artist when you grow up.

During the presentation, you stood next to your best friend, Duncan. Amazingly, Duncan’s parents were the only other parents in the Lamaze class we were in, 7 years ago.

Imagine the chances that our sons would not only end up in the same Kindergarten class, and naturally end up becoming best friends.

And we didn’t even discover that we knew Duncan’s parents until about a month or so ago, when Duncan’s Mommy figured it out.

What a cool story!

Alright then, you are no longer a Kindergartner. You are our awesome soon-to-be 1st grader! Mommy and I are so proud of you. You are some kid.

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: You Evolve into the Snubbull Pokemon When You Get “Hangry” (Hungry + Angry)

1 year, 1 month.

Dear Holly,

I admit- it’s a rare thing to ever see you upset about anything. You’re just a happy, beboppin’ little girl.

You assume the world is all marshmallows and unicorns, and I feel that Mommy and I do our best to make sure that is indeed the case, as best we can.

Undeniably, you are the kind of the baby girl who I just naturally want to make happy. You’re low-maintenance- and of course, you’re adorable! You’re the epitome of cuteness.

With that being said, thanks to your 6 and a half year-old brother, I am now quite familiar with the fundamentals of Pokemon characters; how many of them have the ability to evolve into stronger, fiercer versions of themselves.

Every single day when your brother comes home from school, he eagerly shows me the newest Pokemon cards he received by trading some others that he had just received days before.

As I was flipping through the 4 new cards he got that day, Snubbull immediately stopped me in my tracks:

“Why does this one look so familiar?” I thought to myself. I just couldn’t figure it out.

But just a few days later, I came home from work, to a beautiful strawberry-blonde little girl who was literally changing colors, as she morphed into an angry red version of her usual self.

That was a result of you being equally hungry and tired, yet Mommy and I couldn’t get you fastened into your high chair fast enough.

It wasn’t until I took these pictures later that day that the theory presented itself: that you evolve into Snubbull, the Pokemon fairy, when you are “hangry”.

I don’t want my little girl to have to evolve into a Pokemon character. It’s just too sad to see you upset. I just want to keep you happy, Sweetie!

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: You Received the Certificate of Excellence in Mathematics Award for Your Kindergarten Class

6 and a half years.

Dear Jack,

For weeks, Mommy and I had been curious to know the details, as to why your teacher had texted Mommy and me that you would be presented with a special award in front of your school.

I tried to imagine which unique award you might have earned from your Kindergarten teacher. Naturally, I assumed it was either for your creative artwork, your effortless reading skills, or your ability to positively communicate and get along with your classmates.

You were the first student in your class to receive the Student of Month award from your teacher, back in September, so I figured it might have something to do with good behavior.

But instead, last Thursday, Mommy and I pleased to see you walk up in front of your entire elementary school and receive the Certificate of Excellence in Mathematics from your principal. What this means is that out of your entire Kindergarten class, you are the most skilled at Math.

Obviously, I’m very proud. I am so proud.

Yet honestly, I can’t be too surprised. I’ve been saying for months now, how you are able to count, add, and subtract numbers that I wasn’t able to until 2nd or 3rd grade.

I just figured that the entire Kindergarten curriculum had advanced a few grades, since 30 years ago when I was in Kindergarten myself.

And while I’m sure that’s the case, I now must fully accept that you are exceptionally advanced when it comes to your math skills. Your teacher recognized this to the point that you specifically were the one she chose.

The irony here is that the very reason I ended up getting my college degree in English is because I was so bad at math.

I don’t know I ended with a junior math whiz for a son, but I’m glad I did!

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: You Hunted and Gathered Some “Baby Biscuits” for Breakfast Saturday Morning

1 year.

Dear Holly,

These are the days of you scouting underneath the kitchen table for any Cheerios you may have dropped earlier. You’re very good at finding them, by the way. And every time you discover a forsaken Cheerio, you proudly extend your little hand and pick it up like a crane machine lifting a toy out of the machine at Mellow Mushroom.

It is very obvious that at your school, you are learning to eat with your hands. I’ve noticed here recently that when I try to feed you veggie and fruit puree with the spoon, you’re starting to resist my help.

As if to sternly yet politely tell me, “Thank you, Daddy, for trying to help me eat dinner. But as you can see, I am actually able to feed myself…”

Often this leads to you cupping your hands to scoop the food out of the bowl. Yeah, it makes a mess, but I’m happy to see you attempt to be a girl her who can feed herself.

But you don’t simply snoop around for Cheerios to feed yourself, as I learned this past Saturday.

As Mommy was shopping for groceries at Kroger, you and I were upstairs in the bonus room with Jack, who was watching a dinosaur documentary on Netflix called Dinotasia.

For a while, you were content to just walk between the red footstool and the couch, as you braced yourself when necessary. You were so quiet, as to respect the fact your brother was in the zone as he learned more about dinosaurs.

Then I heard the rattling of a plastic wrapper for the non-GMO fig bars your brother eats: Nature’s Bakery Fig Bars. I didn’t think much of it. I just figured you liked manipulating the sound that an empty wrapper could make.

But then the rattling ceased, and I saw your little fist clenching one of the bars, and I saw how it was soggy on one end…

You had taken it upon yourself to find your own breakfast! I continued to watch you, and sure enough, you were able to successfully download the food you had found, just lying there.

Since you did such a good job finding and eating your own “baby biscuit”, I ran downstairs and got you a new pack of them.

Without surprise, you were able to chew and slobber your way through those baby biscuits as well, with just those two teeth on bottom and three coming in through the top.

Holly is a hunter-gatherer!

Love,

Daddy