Archive for the ‘
Deep Thoughts ’ Category
Friday, September 20th, 2013
2 years, 10 months.
I would like to believe that I will grow old with you. That’s definitely my goal.
But something I am forcing myself to think about is… what if I didn’t? What if right now, something happened to me?
Would you actually remember me at this point in your life?
Would you read these near daily letters I’ve written to you and simply think about how you sort of remember me?
Or is there any possiblity that our memories together have stuck with you enough that I’ll always be a part of you, without any visual prompts needed?
It’s a strange and sad thought for me because my life is consumed by you. I remember everything we do and say together.
What if you only had these letters to go by to know who I was? Have I been thorough and open enough so that you would know who I really am and what mattered to me?
And if not, what would I want you to know?
I hope it would be obvious that I loved you and Mommy more than anything; that my world would fall apart without either of you in it.
I hope you would be able to see that my faith in God was what my relationship with you and Mommy was built on, despite my shortcomings which often reveal themselves in these letters.
I hope there would be no question that I was an eccentric man who lived an interesting life. It matters to me that you know this about me, because I wish the same for you.
Well, I’m sure I could go on and on about what I would want you to know about me, about yourself at this age, and about life itself.
But again, I plan to be around a very long time. So if I get my wish, there will be plenty of more letters to write you in these decades to come. I’ll tell you all about it.
I love you.
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Thursday, September 19th, 2013
2 years, 10 months.
Recently Mommy and I started going to a new Sunday School class, which mainly consists of other parents with young kids.
One young wife, who is very pregnant with her first child, learned that I daily document my experiences of parenthood with you, here on The Dadabase.
She responded, laughing, “Oh, well I guess that means we will be coming to you for parenting advice!”
I laughed with her, but seconds later, thought to myself, “Actually, I don’t really give advice. I simply just write about each baby step as well as every major milestone that I observe as a parent. But I don’t actually give advice, day to day. Not really.”
It’s been a process, for me, though.
I remember a couple of years ago, when I talked about and endorsed the “cry it out method” on a weekly basis.
By default, the cry it out method was right for our family, but it obviously isn’t for everyone.
I think it used to sort of matter to me that in my mind, my way was right, and the other ways were wrong.
Another example was how I used to be, in essense, anti-attachment parenting.
These days, I don’t want be known for what I am against, but instead, for what I do believe in.
This moment might be me trying to process that concept.
It’s amazing how little “being right” matters to me anymore. Maybe it’s because I’ve learned that for the most part, “being right” is a relative thing.
Back in 2011, I cared more about trying to convince people of stuff.
Not anymore. These days I just narrate my life and let the free market of freethinkers take its course.
And so it shall go for all other future events in your life:
I will talk about what’s going on, covering which personal decisions and lifestyle choices I encounter as a parent, but I don’t think there is any part of me that cares about converting anybody anymore, to whatever viewpoint I have.
Yet still, I am very passionate about what I talk about; it’s just that I only really talk about what I am passionate about.
It’s actually funny to me now, considering I used to care about “being right” in parenting.
The way I see it now, is that I don’t give parenting advice, I just simply go through new phases in my life, consisting of both baby steps and major milestones. If my perspective and narration accidentally serves as advice, well… then I will consider myself accidentally honored.
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Thursday, September 12th, 2013
2 years, 9 month.
They say that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone- that it’s easier to take good things for granted when you’re accustomed to them always being there.
Whoever “they” are, I think they make a good point about life.
I don’t want this to be the case with you. I don’t want to take you for granted.
This may sound morbid, but sporadically, I go to a very dark place in my mind, and imagine what life would be like if, suddenly, you weren’t here anymore.
I do believe in a literal hell. And for me, the dark and desperately lonely place in my mind of a life without you in it, is as close to the literal hell as I ever plan to be.
Yet I force myself to go there. I think it’s important for me to go through that mental and psychological exercise.
It’s almost as if I’m subconciously trying to jinx ever losing you, by doing this. It’s my way of feeling I can control the situation.
Though I know I can’t.
I realize it’s not that easy. I realize it’s not up to me; that every day you’re here is a gift from God.
Maybe this helps me understand why I like the movie, Vanilla Sky, with Tom Cruise, so much. Every time I watch it, I have this greater appreciation for my life being how it is right now.
It’s not tainted or maimed by some big tragedy. By now, I’ve finally had some events in my life that have scarred me a bit, but they haven’t cast a forever shadow like losing you would do.
There is more than one way to say, “I love you.”
I hope you can see that all this is just another weird way to say it.
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Wednesday, September 11th, 2013
2 years, 9 months.
It’s nearly amazing I take you as seriously as I do each time you come up with some random new toy request, yet I always do whatever it takes to find it for you.
Thanks to some help from Nana, you became the proud new owner of The I-Screamer from Mater’s Tall Tales, because she bought you the entire set of characters from that episode, in a boxed set.
Plus, there’s the black van you asked for, then obtained, this summer after Papa spraypainted one of my old toys from the Eighties.
What could it be now?
Your new mission: to find a “pink Hummer.”
Not a giant ride-on toy, just a small pink Hummer to play along with your other Hot Wheels cars in our living room: one small enough to easily carry around with you everywhere you go, too.
While the color pink is typically associated with girls, I know it’s just a rare (and therefore highly sought after) color for you.
You don’t see a lot of pink trucks, pink SUV’s, or pink Hummers out on the road when we drive to and from school each day; even with the sporatic Mary Kay vehicles.
Today, you saw a yellow Jeep driving in a lane right next to an orange Jeep, and you went hysterical in the back seat:
“A-a-a-a-a-a-a…. A-a-a-a-a yellow Jeep! N-n-n-n-n-next to the or-or-or-orange Jeep!”
Orange and yellow Jeeps aren’t as easy to find, so it was a big deal for you to see them together like that.
You appreciate the uncommon things in this world.
And I’d have to say, pink Hummers are definitely uncommon things in the world.
It was interesting to recently learn it wasn’t all that long ago that the color pink became “a girls’ color.” I figured it had just always been that way.
However, an article entitled “When Did Girls Start Wearing Pink?” on Smithsonian.com sheds some light on the subject:
“Today’s color dictate wasn’t established until the 1940s, as a result of Americans’ preferences as interpreted by manufacturers and retailers.”
You just like pink because it’s a weird color for a car. That’s all it means.
In fact, I think it’s totally cool that you are proud of your appreciation of the color pink.
Whenever I ask you what your favorite color is, you always respond the same: “Um, pink… and black.”
There’s this little boys’ t-shirt I see every so often when we’re out in public. It’s hot pink and it reads, “Real boys wear pink.”
Real boys are so confident in the fact they like pink, that if they wear pink, they don’t need to talk about it. They just own it.
Son, you want a pink Hummer. I’m going to try to find you one. And it’s going to be the toughest pink Hummer anyone’s ever seen!
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Tuesday, September 3rd, 2013
2 years, 9 months.
It wasn’t until my parents left our house for Labor Day weekend that I realized something:
We never have guests at our house anymore! At least, not since you were born nearly three years ago.
Earlier in the summer, your best friend Sophie spent the afternoon with us while her parents were at a wedding.
And before that, other than family…
Well over a year ago your friend Henry and his parents stopped by for the afternoon.
Other than that, though… there is no other than that.
I just never thought about it before, but a whole lot goes in to having people over at our house.
Food, entertainment, corresponding schedules with the guests, your nap schedule, your lunch and dinner schedule…
It’s just easier for us to meet people we know outside of our house. At places where we don’t have to think or plan or prepare.
We want to be hospitable. We want to be the cool family who invites people over for shindigs.
But honestly, I think a lot of people wish that. At least, it seems like that on House Hunters on HGTV. They’re always interested in finding a house with “entertaining space” because they “love to entertain guests.”
I question that they really get to throw that many parties.
Or maybe it’s just our family. Maybe we’re so far removed from that reality.
Not to mention, we live in a townhouse.
So really, now is just not the time for us to have people over very often. One day, when you get older. One day, when we move into a bigger house. One day, when it actually concerns me that hardly anyone other than you, Mommy, or me ever walks through the front door.
As for now, you’re just stuck in this house with your parents as company. Good thing you love us.
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