Archive for the ‘ Nostalgia ’ Category

It’s A Boy’s Boy’s Boy’s World

Tuesday, December 17th, 2013

3 years, 1 month.

Dear Jack,

It was just a month ago that we celebrated your 3rd birthday with your best friend Sophie. I had pointed out the fact that your other friends who showed up to your party were all girls.

And for Sophie’s birthday party this past weekend at Shipwrecked Playhouse, the boys were unable to make it as well.

Here you are again in a situation where you’re the only boy, surrounded by girls.

Not that you minded, or even thought it was out of the ordinary.

In fact, you were quite preoccupied by the fact Sophie had told you earlier in the week at school that she had a surprise for you that you’d receive at her party.

The moment you sat down next to her as the cake was being cut, you politely yet very directly asked her, “What’d you get for me, Sophie?”

She didn’t tell you.

However, you patiently waited for her to open her gifts… knowing afterwards you could see what was in your goodie bag from her.

Sophie and your friend Madison both eagerly watched you open your goodie bag, as if that were just as important as the actual birthday kid opening her gifts.

You were happy: There was Play-Doh in there- which I am finding is like currency among 3 year-olds, as cigarettes are in prison.

 Afterwards, I really enjoyed observing the way you played, versus the way your girl friends did.

While Sophie and Madison used the phone to repeatedly announce clean-up on aisle 7…

You drove the Lightning McQueen car around the indoor playground, exploring the ins and outs of the joint. Granted, you visited Sophie and Madison, by parking right in front of them as they played on the phone. You served as the sole, straight-faced audience member.

After a few minutes, you drove away without even the thought of giving them any applause.

You acted like a total boy the whole time. And they acted girls, accordingly.

Go figure.

Love,

Daddy

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Potty Training Girls vs. Boys
Potty Training Girls vs. Boys
Potty Training Girls vs. Boys

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My Kid is Fascinated With And/Or Terrified By Santa Claus

Wednesday, December 11th, 2013

3 years.

Dear Jack,

In the midst of all the fun holiday traditions our family has participated in so far this season, like going on a couple of hay rides and driving around to check out Christmas lights, one thing we haven’t done this year is officially go visit Santa and let you get your picture made with him.

Last Saturday when we saw The Radio City Christmas Spectacular starring The Rockettes, we could have easily walked from the Grand Ole Opry to the nearly adjoining Opry Mills Mall and got your picture taken (for free) with Santa, at the Bass Pro Shop.

I just looked it up in my dadabase of The Dadabase, and almost exactly a year ago I wrote you a letter called “The Obligatory Facebook Picture Of Your Kid With Santa.”

Interestingly enough, I ended it with this proclamation:

“So here it is; this is the obligatory picture of you with Santa that I shared on Facebook. You may not remember it happening. Either way, I’m sure we’ll be back at Bass Pro Shop again for your Santa picture next year.”

Wrong.

Mommy and I asked you several times during the past couple of weeks if you wanted to go get your picture made with Santa again.

Each time, you calmly muttered no.

I figure, why push the issue? So don’t worry about it, kid. We don’t have to go.

My assessment of the situation is this: You’re equally fascinated with Santa Claus as much as you are terrified by him. I think that’s pretty normal for a 3 year-old boy. Santa is exciting (and safe) from a distance, in other words.

You don’t want to sit on his lap, yet you think he’s really cool and keep asking me if he (and the Rockettes) are going to give you a gift for Christmas.

Actually, I should be thanking you. You saved me a trip to the mall during the Christmas holidays!

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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We Saw The Radio City Christmas Spectacular Starring The Rockettes!

Tuesday, December 10th, 2013

3 years. 

Dear Jack,

As much as I would love to take you to your first movie in a theatre, I still don’t believe the time is right.

However, you proved to officially be ready to see The Radio City Christmas Spectacular starring The Rockettes, at The Grand Ole Opry here in Nashville.

Turns out, our friends at GoGo Squeez arranged for our family to go see the show. (After all, by now you’re sort of a poster child for them- considering typically anytime I take a picture of you eating a meal, there’s always a GoGo Squeez pouch visible in the shot.)

Leading up to us going, though, I just wasn’t positive you’d have the attention span to sit still long enough for us to stay the whole time, no matter how “spectacular” the event was. I gave you 30 minutes, tops. Fortunately, my doubts proved to be wrong.

And might I say, not only did you last the entire 2 hour show, but you showed off your potty training skills as well. For the 25 minute drive there from our house and back were no problems. There was a 15 minute intermission during the show- Mommy just took you to go potty and everything went well.

Seriously, I can’t get over how cool it is that you’re like… serious about not wearing diapers anymore. Wow. It’s like the end of an era.

Not that either of us will miss diapers!

During the show, you were pretty much glued to the screen, I mean stage.

I asked you afterwards what your favorite part of the show was; you quickly responded, “The bears!” I’m still trying to figure out what’s going through your head regarding what appeared to be a stage full of dancing, mutant bears… pandas included.

Your jaw dropped when you saw them during the Santa’s Workshop scene.

And you loved the live camels during the Living Nativity. As well as the 3D snowball fight. Not to mention, Santa Claus himself.

There was one part where the stage was filled with doznes of Santas, but you recognized right away that the “real” Santa had disappeared. During the whole song, you were quite distraught: “Where’d the big Santa go? Is he coming back?”

I also laughed out loud when the The Living Nativity scene began, after you saw the camels, recognizing the scene from your children’s Bible that Mommy reads you at bed time, you shouted out with excitement, “Is Jesus coming?!”

Our family had so much fun. With all the running around we usually have to do on the weekends for errands that we don’t have time for on the weekdays, it feels like we seldom get to take time just to go out and simply do something fun for our family.

For me, it was a proud family moment and activity. Plus, even though I moved to Nashville 8 years ago, it was my first time to go to the Grand Ole Opry! (What a shame that it took this long, huh?)

And again, it confirms for me: You can handle the travel to and from an event like this, at age 3, sans the diapers.

This parenting thing is starting to really get fun these days.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Disclaimer: The Radio City Christmas Spectacular mentioned in this story was provided courtesy of GoGo Squeez.

Photo credit for “on stage” photos: MSG Entertainment.

 

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Rosemary Christmas Tree Shoppin’ With The Easter Bunny

Monday, December 9th, 2013

3 years.

Dear Jack,

With Christmas being about two weeks away, Mommy and I decided it was time we should get a Christmas tree for our family. So we did what I assume most American families were doing yesterday afternoon- we drove over to Lowe’s to find the cheapest option on the clearance rack.

It wasn’t until we had already got there that I realized you had brought your giant Easter Bunny with you.

Seriously, how did you get that thing past me? I honestly didn’t even notice. And evidently Mommy wasn’t too thrown off by it either because I never heard her bring it up in conversation.

Okay, I think I actually need to meditate on that fact for a minute… Somehow, you got the idea that it would be logical, appropriate, and/or helpful to bring a giant yellow Easter Bunnythat is nearly as big as you are.

And most importantly, I didn’t even notice.

As for me, that could be the end of this story, because that is pretty awesome.

We ended up finding a nice Rosemary tree, 15 inches tall, for $3.75. When the manager noticed that we were interested, he gave us a proposal:

“Would your family like two trees this year? I’ll sell them to you for $1.50 each?”

I suppose he was making a proactive effort to clear the shelf space, so I didn’t hesitate to accept his offer.

As I was loading them both in our car to head back home, you announced urgently, “I need to go potty!”

Mommy took over loading the trees while I ran you to the restroom inside Lowe’s, chanting this mantra to you the whole time: “Jack, keep holdin’ it, keep holdin’ it! Don’t go yet!”

You thought it was funny. What I didn’t realize is that apparently you have much greater bladder control than I give you credit for.

Needless to say, you didn’t get your “big boy underwear” wet. With my assitance, you went in the big potty in the Lowe’s restroom.

While that may not seem like so big of a deal, it does mark the first time that I’ve ever been the one to take you potty in public, since you started wearing your big boy underwear.

It was pretty cool for me to be a part of.

Well, what can I say? Our family bought two Rosemary (Christmas) trees:

One for the living room and one for the kitchen counter. Because that’s normal.

And the Easter Bunny helped.

 

Love,

Daddy

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The Garbage Man And The Wolfman’s Brother

Sunday, December 8th, 2013

3 years.

Dear Jack,

I remained clean-shaven for the entire month of “Movember” last month, though quite the opposite is true for December.

It’s just too cold. I’ll get over it soon, but a few days ago as I was getting ready to take you to school, without realizing it, I was singing the mysterious song, “The Wolfman’s Brother,” by the band Phish.

(Please note that I never have been and never will be cool enough to be a “phan” or part of the “phellowship,” which means that I’m not a huge fan of Phish. I’m more of a Guster kind of guy, myself.)

I only know that one Phish song and it was in my head after I looked in the mirror that morning; I guess I simply reminded myself of a werewolf.

As I buckled you into the car seat, you smiled while looking straight ahead, then began singing, “It’s the Wolfman’s brother, the Wolfman’s brother…”.

You surprised me.

“Oh, you were listening to me sing that? You actually got the words and the tune right!” I replied.

Granted, it’s mostly the same 3 or 4 words repeated over and over for the chorus, but that served as a reminder to me:

You’re pretty much always paying attention, especially when I assume you’re not.

And that would explain why you’re slightly obsessed with A) being a garbageman (I mean, “waste collector”) and B) getting a toy garbage truck.

On the Saturday following Thanksgiving, you saw for the first time, the garbage truck stop by our house.

It usually stops by on Thursdays, but Thanksgiving was on that day, so we happened to be here the day it came instead to make up for the holiday.

Every day since then, you have built a “garbage truck” out of storage baskets, couch pillows, and the Wii steering wheel, placing your Hot Wheels and trains in the back.

“That’s my garbage back there,” you always clarify to Mommy and me, referring to your toys.

You even made it clear to us in your most recent Christmas gift request:

“I want a plane, a Ruldolph reindeer, and a garbage truck- a big one, that I can put my cars and trains in for the garbage.”

That’s who you and I are, at least for this month:

The Garbageman and the Wolfman’s Brother.

We could probably be Batman’s villians, with nicknames like those.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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