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3 Ways Kids Serve As Status Symbols For Their Parents

March 5, 2012 at 6:50 pm , by 

15 months.

By default, if you have a kid then you have a definite status symbol as an adult; it means, if nothing else, you are a parent who can relate to other parents. Having a kid says a lot about you without you having to say a word.

You know first-hand the cliches of parenthood: the lack of sleep, the financial worries, the stress on your marriage, the frustration of not knowing what you’re doing in general as a parent.

Kids serve as a status symbol for all those things, just as they also represent all the rewards of parenting. And I don’t just mean the sentimental, unconditional love aspects of it; which are definitely both priceless and undeniable.

Today I want to point out 3 ways that kids serve as status symbols for their parents, in more of the “what’s in it for me?” aspects:

1. Their activities. A more re-occurring issue which adds to the stress level of being a parent is the growing number of activities their kid is involved in.

Bonus points for the parent with the greatest amount of driving time in between their child’s swim lessons, soccer practice, and Mandarin Chinese language classes.

Because we all know how it works; the more running around and wearing yourself out in the name of parenting, the better of a parent you are.

2. Their cuteness. It doesn’t take two good-looking parents to make one good-looking kid. Yay for average looking parents! Gone are the days where you have to keep a dozen pictures of your kid in your wallet or posted up on your cubicle wall at work. Hello Facebook and Twitter…

3. Their material possessions. From strollers to shoes and clothes to educational toys to cell phones to cars, there are still plenty of ways to let other parents know that your kid is worth it. As Forrest Gump’s mama told him, “There’s only so much fortune a man really needs, and the rest is just for showing off.”

Good thing we have our kids to help send that message.

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Welcome to “The Dadabase” (Archives From Parents.com)

May 23, 2011 at 10:12 am , by 

Six months.

Somewhere between wrenches and Rubik’s Cubes…

Hello, my name is Nick Shell.  And I am a daddy blogger.

My wife Jill and I have a 6 month old son named Jack.  (I’m a very nostalgic, chronologically obsessed kind of guy, so at the top of every post I place a caption telling how old Jack is when I wrote that entry).  That’s right; I live with Jack and Jill.  Sure, it was a little tempting to reference that familiar nursery rhyme along with my almost-weird last name in the naming of this blog.  Like I could have named this, Jack and Jill in a Nut Shell.

But I am a guy, so I don’t do “cute.”  I do practical. With the name of this daddy blog, I wanted to allude to the idea that a man’s perspective of parenting is a bit offbeat when compared to the more easily recognizable viewpoint of the beautiful and poetic female mind.  So for you moms out there who wonder what your hubby is really thinking about this whole dad thing, I might be able to shed some light on the subject.  Granted, I’m not claiming to represent all or even most husbands and fathers, but I’m sure I will often hit close to “the dadabase.”

And for dads out there- hey, I know there’s not as much reading material out there for us.  Just like I’m very aware of the fact that it’s much easier to find baby clothes that say “I love Mommy,” as compared to ones that say “I love Daddy.”  I, too, am bothered by the fact that so many men have compromised the connotation of the word “father”, and “dad”, and even the word “man.”  So I admit that much of my inspiration as a daddy blogger is to re-brand fatherhood as the glorious thing that it is.  I’m tired of dads being represented by goofy schlubs who don’t remember their wedding anniversary until the last minute and who don’t know how to behave in public without making a mess of something.

For my blog’s logo, I chose a wrench.  In The Dadabase, I will not just be writing about my son and all the wonderful things he does and is.  Just as important, I will be writing about my role as a husband and father.  Therefore, I decided that a metaphorical wrench is the perfect symbol for us men.  Because it’s our job to fix things.

Why is it such a struggle for us to just listen to our wives without giving advice, which is often all they really want in the first place- to be heard and understood? It’s like waving a red ball in front of a yellow lab, pretending to throw it, then being amused when the dog runs to go try to find the ball that was never thrown. We are wired to fix things when we are presented with a problem. We are creative and inventive, so whether that wrench is physical or psychological, we not only use the metaphorical (or actual) wrench to adjust and tighten the loose parts in our lives: Sometimes we use that same wrench to take things apart, in order to learn how they work.

And that brings me to the Rubik’s Cube I referenced in the title.  Men are naturally more “black and white” and formulaic than women.  While the Rubik’s Cube is equally frustrating as it is intimidating to so many people, those of us who can solve it in less than five minutes know that once you simply memorize the algorithms and when to apply them, the Rubik’s Cube is no more difficult than learning how to beat King Hippo on the classic Nintendo game, Mike Tyson’s Punch Out.

Not only are we men wired to fix things, we’re also wired to solve puzzles and crack codes.  And that’s important because, let’s face it- when it comes to being a parent, we are constantly figuring this thing out as we go.  So what can you expect from this daddy blog of mine?  You can catch a glimpse of the rarely published mindset of an American father… who just happens to be inconspicuously clued in.

I will be writing 25 posts per month, which averages out to around 5.5 times each week.  Plus, anytime you want to travel back in time and catch the story from the very beginning, just look on the right hand side of the screen and you will see the archives for my daddy blogging- all the way back to April 13th, 2010.

Sometimes, you will totally agree with my opinions and my take on fatherhood- you will appreciate what I have served up that morning for “blogfast” (note to self: copyright the destined-to-be-trendy word, “blogfast”)and you will “like” it on Facebook, and/or Tweet it.  Other times, you may feel I am so quirky that I’m kooky; disagreeing with my “wrong opinion” so much that you throw your shoe at your computer screen.  In either case, I’m still the same guy you either liked or didn’t like the day before.

You get it all; the good, the bad (which often translates as “politically incorrect”), and the abstract.  This is my unfiltered (yet family friendly) take on parenting from a dad’s perspective.  I strongly value the importance of authenticity.  So that’s right- unlike a “reality TV show,” there are no camera crews or producers or writers telling me what to say or what not to say. This is real life.  And I am a real dude.

Welcome to The Dadabase.

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dad from day one: Influence and Individuality

Thirty-one weeks.

Parenting is one of the few institutions where brainwashing is not only allowed, and a given, but it’s also sort of the whole point.  Like a duo-dictatorship, two people (the parents) have so much influence over another human being (the child) on so many levels.  Freedom of religion?  Nope.  Freedom of speech?  Not so much.  The rules that matter are enforced by the parents and accordingly, the child learns his or her moral code and adopts his human culture largely from how the parents choose to raise him or her.

Will I be a strict parent?  “Strict” has such a negative connotation these days.  It evokes thoughts of having rules for the sake of having rules, yielding a teenage kid that is either so nerdy that he thinks getting to stay up until 11:00 at night to watch Battlestar Gallactica is an idea of a good time, or he’s so rebellious he gets a DUI and a huge tattoo by the time he graduates high school.  So I’d rather not use the word “strict”, but instead “consistent and practical”.  Like my parents were to me.

I have always been very close to my parents; I knew I could talk to them about anything and they would listen, without being judgmental or condescending, yet still guiding me in the right direction.  They gave me a little responsibility at a time, and when I proved I could handle it, they gave me more.  I never had a curfew, nor did I need one.  But had I responded differently to the responsibility I was given, I know for a fact the rules would have been stricter, as they would have needed to be.

I think it’s funny when I hear parents of young kids say, “Well my Brayden won’t eat what I cook him.  He only eats chicken nuggets and pizza, and he only drinks Coke from his sippy cup.”  I smile and laugh with them, shaking my head like I know how it is, when really I’m thinking, “It’s not up to your kid!  It’s up to YOU!  YOU’RE the parent!”

Just like I’ve heard other parents say, “I’m not going to force any religious beliefs on my kids.  They need to figure out what they believe on their own.”  (Which is always a clear indication that parent has no solid religious beliefs, otherwise they would pass them on to their children.) It will not be the case for my kid.  He will know who Noah and Abraham and Moses and Jesus and Peter and the Apostle Paul are.  He will know the importance and relevance of John 3:16.  Just like my dad read to me from my kid’s Bible every night, so will I do for my son.

And when he grows up, I will have influenced who he is.  Yet still, he will have his own personality and make his own decisions.  Truly though, that’s how it was for all of us.  Even if one or both of our parents were out of the picture, they still influenced us- negatively or positively.  So I am choosing to make a conscious, solid, positive influence in his life.  And I will be very deliberate in doing so.

Here’s what The Bump says about Baby Jack this week:

Baby’s energy is surging, thanks to the formation of white fat deposits beneath the skin. (Have those kicks and jabs to the ribs tipped you off yet?) Baby is also settling into sleep and waking cycles, though — as you’ve also probably noticed — they don’t necessarily coincide with your own. Also this month, all five senses are finally functional, and the brain and nervous system are going through major developments.

http://pregnant.thebump.com/pregnancy/pregnancy-tools/slideshow/how-big-is-baby.aspx?page=21

All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:

Blog- www.photojoeblog.com

Website- www.joehendricks.com

 
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dad from day one: Instantly Becoming a Complete Goofball to Entertain the Baby

Twenty-seven weeks.

I know nothing about how to take care of a baby, yet.  But what I do know, and what I have always known when it comes to babies is how to make them laugh and play with them.  In the way that women instinctively speak in a high, falsetto voice to babies (I’ve read that that’s the frequency babies hear when they’re that young, as opposed to a normal speaking voice), I automatically become any given idiot monster when I find myself in a situation where a baby is looking at me, waiting for some kind of confirmation.

The default character I play while entertaining babies could best be described as Popeye mixed with Grimace mixed with Beaker: A smiling, squinty-eyed, beeping mutant.  But what can I say?  Babies like me when I am this fictional goofball.

And really, that’s what happens to any adult when a baby is set in front of them.  Adults become ridiculous.  That’s one of the many reasons people like babies.  Because adults get a free pass to act stupid.  All in the name of making a baby happy.

Needless to say, I am so looking forward to my free pass.

All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:

Blog- www.photojoeblog.com

Website- www.joehendricks.com

2 Comments Posted on Nostalgia, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

What Percentage of Your Day is Spent on Entertainment?

It’s not as simple as logging your TV and movie time: Entertainment is much more complicated, subtle, and encompassing than that.

When my sister was born in January of 1984 (I was about 2 ½) she gave me a Garfield stuffed animal as present.  I realize that the idea of a newborn baby giving her older brother a gift the day she is born may seem illogical, but my parents’ idea to keep me feeling special that day worked.  Because I didn’t question the rationale of my sister’s gift until high school.  That Garfield doll ended up being one of my favorite childhood toys.  I dressed him up in my dad’s whitey-tighties; they were Garfield’s diaper.

A major part of being a kid is being strung along by your parents.  It’s a constant, endless series of countless waiting rooms, strange places, and unfamiliar people.  But all I could really think of was eating, drinking, and peeing.  And when I checked all those activities off the list, that meant I must be bored.

So I needed something to entertain myself.  During the younger years, Garfield in my dad’s underwear did the trick.  I eventually graduated from the stuffed animal circuit to video games and action figures.  Then to playing guitar by the time I started junior high.  Evidently the worst thing in the world was to be bored.  So I always had someway to entertain myself.

*This explains the psychology behind Swiss Army SUV (Nick Shell’s Turtle Shell). Click that title to read more about it.

But I have to imagine that most people, like me, carry this idea of constantly entertaining themselves into adulthood, for the rest of their lives.  And as Ive learned by now, a tangible object isn’t necessary for entertainment- though something as subtle as checking for new text messages 33 times a day is a popular form of fighting subconscious boredom.

I learned as a child to use my imagination to daydream; while I still do that on an hourly basis, I’ve also made a habit of planning my future and coming up with ideas for my life.  And I figure I’m not the only one.  I figure that most people find some way to entertain themselves throughout the day, despite the busyness of life.  In between the busyness of life.  And during the busyness of life.  Even if it’s just while waiting in line, sitting at a red light, or zoning out at work (and often even not realizing we’re doing it).

Heckler-reader yells out: “Bahahaha…You just wait ‘til you have a baby, that’ll all change!”

Yes, life will change and my time will be spent in different ways and I will be functioning on less sleep.  But no matter how preoccupied I am with life and all its responsibilities and distractions, there are still moments throughout any day, even if it’s while I’m falling asleep, that I fill in those moments of fading consciousness with random thoughts like, “What was Grimace supposed to be, anyway?”

So how what percentage of my day is spent on entertainment?  It’s pretty much a trick question.  Because at least for me, my mind is constantly in entertainment mode.  Even when I’m asleep, dreaming.