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Thursday, May 1st, 2014
3 years, 5 months.
This morning you were so excited to take your pet dog, Chi-chi, to school. He (or is it she?) has an “on” switch which causes it to walk across the floor and bark/chirp. It’s pretty hilarious.
But since you and your friends are 3 and a half, it’s pretty much as awesome as me finding out yesterday why “A113″ shows up in nearly every Disney/Pixar movie.
You were so eager to show Chi-Chi to your friends, I was actually a bit surprised. I feared that you might freak out as a mob of your classmates would begin going crazy for your toy.
I thought it would bother you. I thought you might quickly get possessive.
That’s not at all what happened. Instead, I saw the look on your face as 7 or 8 of your friends all circled around you in amazement of your toy.
Never was there a sign of concern as Chi-Chi (and ultimately, you) were the hit of the party.
I saw joy in your eyes as you witnessed your friends playing with and passing around the toy you brought to share with them.
You brightened their day. That made you happy.
And it made me happy too.
When we got home, I saw on Facebook that my friend Holly, from college, had messaged me:
Nick, i just had to let you know that of all the compliments I received on my pink hair picture, your son requesting a second viewing makes me feel the coolest. Hope you’re doing well!
A few days ago, Holly had posted this new picture of herself with some temporary pink hair dye. (Being half-Norwegian and half-Swedish, her hair is normally light blonde.)
You caught a glimpse of the picture on my laptop as I was scrolling through Facebook and were pretty fascinated by this seemingly magical girl with the pink hair. I let Holly know that:
“My son Jack likes your hair so much, he just asked to see your picture again!”
Of the 20-something comments and 70-something “likes” she received from that picture, your comment made her feel the coolest. Enough for her to take the time to let me know, several days later.
And if you can believe it, the fact that you made her day by asking to see her picture a 2nd time… well, it made my day.
Twice in the same couple of hours, I saw first-hand how you simply brightened other people’s days.
It makes me so proud that you are such a sweet boy. I don’t think I was that caring and giving when I was your age.
Yeah, you make me proud.
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Sunday, January 5th, 2014
3 years, 1 month.
I imagine there will be a lot of confusion for you over these next several years in regards to how animals actually communicate with humans.
Considering all the kids’ movies and TV shows that feature talking animals, it seems to be evident that we humans secretly fantasize about being able to truly talk to the animals we love.
In fact, something I’ve got up my sleeve for 2014 is a 373 word childrens’ book I have written and have recently started working with an extremely talented illustrator on.
The plot line itself capitalizes on the truth that animals and humans do communicate in a language, but not a spoken one.
More on that in months to come, hopefully…
As for today, I want to tell you what happened this weekend as you were re-introduced to Max, the amazing Cockapoo (a Spaniel/Poodle mix).
On April 5th, 2011, nearly 3 years ago, I wrote Jack Meets Max The Cockapoo. Today, I write the follow-up.
We visited our friends, the Scotts, who happen to have a daughter named Parker who is close to your age, as well as a lovable dog who seems to be mutually interesting in you.
I really enjoyed following you, Parker, and Max around the Scotts’ house.
What initially started out as you sort of pestering Max, because you wanted to pet him so much, ended up being for the majority of the visit, a constant chase of Max after you.
Granted, I think some of it is that he was curious to try your organic yogurt-covered raisins.
But I could also see that Max also truly wanted to be your friend.
I loved watching him follow you around.
What I loved even more was the way you so naturally talked to Max, assuming he definitely understood you.
“Follow me, Max. Come this way with us,” I heard you tell him as you and Parker ventured over to the kitchen.
Later on in the morning, as Max was getting bored of being upstairs watching you and Parker in the “jumpy house,” as you call it, you could tell Max wasn’t being himself:
“What’s wrong, Max? Why are you sad? You want to go downstairs?”
For me, it was like watching three children, two are which were actually human. Even I could see, as you so easily did, that Max wanted your friendship and acceptance; and again, your snacks.
I don’t want to make it seem like our family members are huge animal lovers that let dogs lick our mouths. After all, our family doesn’t have a pet. As we put it, “We’re not dog people and we know this.”
However, Max is different.
We’ve known him for about five years now. He’s like the coolest dog ever. So Mommy and I have tossed around the idea… of getting a Cockapoo when you’re a bit older.
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Wednesday, December 12th, 2012
You know who Santa is now; not because Mommy and I have told you about him, but basically because of all the inflatable yard decorations you see on the way home from daycare everyday.
I have a feeling you won’t ever need me to fill in all the magical details about Santa flying through the air in a gravity-defying sleigh, led by a red-nosed reindeer.
Something that really fascinates me about you is how you know the difference between reality and science fiction, at only 2 years old.
Not only do you have bizarre Santa stories surrounding you, but you also have your Thomas the Train TV shows that you watch; accompanied by the matching toys.
That leads you to further use your imagination to make up weird story lines for your playtime. Even in the car yesterday, out of nowhere, you proclaimed:
“Santa crashed into the train… and the birds.”
You’re good at making up grandiose stories involving characters you’re familiar with.
Observing your bath time is always a wonderfully absurd theatrical production. That is why I love being your bath director when Mommy isn’t able to do it.
Your favorite episode is when the purple starfish bath toy speaks to her daughter; a Collie named Charlie.
“It’s Charlie’s Mommy,” you squeak out in a falsetto voice.
Then you walk Charlie closer to listen to his mother, the starfish. From there, it’s pretty much high-pitched Gibberish involving the Starfish mother telling Charlie to get ready for school… I think.
Seriously, how do you separate science fiction from reality?
As hilarious as you are when you play, you still can quickly convert to being more serious; randomly updating me with realistic tidbits:
“Daddy wears the fluffy jacket.”
“I like chocolate for dinner.”
“I stink… I poop.”
Switching back from the world of your imagination to the world of your perception of actual reality is something you do so flawlessly.
I think it’s safe to say you’re going to be a lot like me: You keep your head in the clouds, but you stand on solid ground.
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Tuesday, November 30th, 2010
If you’re not good at winning staring contests, you should try being in one with an infant. It’s pretty easy to win because there are no “overawareness” issues. Baby Jack is dedicated to the game; I’ll give him that. But typically I win because he either smiles or sneezes. There’s nothing like staring at a baby’s face. It’s amazing how long you can do it before you realize you’ve been doing it that long.
Of all the funny faces he currently makes, my favorite one is when raises his eyebrows like wants to be part of the 1950’s Rat Pack. There’s also the “Elvis sneer”, the “surprised Dana Carvey”, the “Paul McCartney”, the “ancient Chinese man”, the “drowsy poet”, and the “Mac the alien” (a reference to a mostly forgotten E.T. copycat movie called Mac and Me.)
He often slips in and out of sleep when I stare at him. I try to imagine what he is dreaming about, as his face tells the seemingly same story every time. The dream starts out with Baby Jack petting a friendly puppy (Jack always starts his dreams smiling). Then a mean dog comes along and scares Jack and the friendly puppy (that’s when Jack has a worried look on his face). Lastly, the dream ends with him drinking milk or pooping (as he either starts “rooting” or grunting, accordingly). What else would a baby dream about anyway?
“I wanna wake you from your dream. I wanna know just who you’re talking to when you’re singing in your sleep. I wanna find out what it means. I’ve got marbles in my mouth. Thousand words I wanna say but it’s impossible to spit ‘em out.”
-Guster, “Do You Love Me?”
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baby blog, baby dreams, dad from day one, Do You Love Me?, dog, dreams, Elvis, ET, face, funny faces, Guster, Paul McCartney, puppy, Rat Pack, rooting, staring contest | Categories:
Nostalgia, People, Storytelling, The Dadabase