Posts Tagged ‘ father and son ’

It’s Easy To Take These Moments For Granted

Saturday, March 15th, 2014

3 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

Thursday night, Mommy went out for coffee with her friend Karen for her official “Mommy’s Night Out” for the month. (I get one too, but it’s called “Daddy’s Night Out” instead, obviously.)

I didn’t mind whatsoever, but I admit since that meant I would be putting you to bed, I sort of needed to speed through the process so I could finish up the dishes and catch up on some other work before Mommy got home.

You wanted me to play trains with you, though we already had our play time. Then you wanted me to read an extra story. And you wanted me sing an extra song after I had already sang you two Christmas carols.

I knew that the more time I spent upstairs with you, the less time I’d have to get my work done before Mommy got home. But then I reminded myself:

It’s easy to take these moments for granted.

You’ll be this age and in this stage… for a limited time only.

That’s one of the reasons I always put your age in years and the month at the top of every letter: to remind myself of how fast you’re growing up.

As hectic as our schedules are, we really don’t get to spend as much quality time as a family as we wish; it’s basically limited to the weekend for the most part.

And as far as exclusive father and son time, that’s even more rare. Sure, I take you to and from school every day, but there’s not much physical interaction there.

So I decided to let the work downstairs delay for a little while. You and me had a tickle fight instead.

It’s interesting how you don’t even put up a fight, other than try to shield yourself with your blanket like a turtle trying to hide in his shell.

Sure, it’s easy to take these moments for granted, but I didn’t this time.

And I still got the dishes done by the time Mommy got home.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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Glad To Have You Back, Kid

Tuesday, February 18th, 2014

3 years, 3 months.

Dear Jack,

You and I are recovering from a little bit of culture shock right now.

Until this morning, the last time I really got to hang out with you was Friday morning, when I stayed home with you because you were sick.

And obviously, when you’re sick, you’re not yourself anyway… to put it lightly.

It was only today that you were well enough to be back at school; not to mention school was closed yesterday for Presidents’ Day.

But this morning was the first time just you and I have been in the car together, just us, since last Wednesday, because Mommy picked you up last Thursday.

After analyzing all that info, it helps me understand all the reasons you and I have been out of sync.

Our car rides together are a big part of our relationship. I realize that now.

Until this morning in the car, as we saw two hot air balloons in the distance, we had not really had a conversation since the middle of last week.

I’m glad to have you back. I missed you. You’re like a different boy when you’re sick, like I said.

Now we can bond again over manly conversations about Corvettes and donkeys.

It really puts things into perspective when I consider that my “guy time” with you is something I’ve grown accustomed to by now. I know it’s weird to think about your daddy having social needs too, but I do.

Feeling connected to you helps me feel alive. When I don’t feel connected to you, it sort unplugs me from reality a little bit… I think.

I get it that there’s a 29 and a half year difference between us, but even when we’re just chilling on the drive to school, we’re still having some quality time together.

After several days without our guy time, I have learned how much we depend on it.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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How To Talk Like A Man

Thursday, February 13th, 2014

3 years, 2 months.

 

Dear Jack,

I’m starting to really appreciate infographics. They provide an organized visual for interesting research; like this one, below, on sending text messages:

  • 69% of all respondents said they “would be lost” without the ability to text
  • Men text more than women (an average of 17 regular contacts)
    • Men send shorter messages
    • they generally see texting as a functional form of communications
  • Women have an average of 13 regular text contacts. Men are 3x more likely to text work colleagues than women:
    • Women tend to send longer messages
    • more likely to say “I love you” via text (54%)
    • they often use texting to deepen relationships

That’s interesting, yet I’m not at all surprised to see those findings.

Men and women not only think much differently, but they speak much differently to match it. You and I are males, meaning we are wired to speak in a different language than females.

It’s not a bad thing, though it often is a frustrating thing. But it’s also what makes the dynamics between males and females work.

Otherwise, we would function more like robots.

So instead of writing off the other gender because I’m not the best at speaking their language… I’m learning to speak their language.

I’m making myself the victor, not the victim.

Being married to Mommy for 5 and a half years has helped me a lot, via immersion, to learn how to say what I am wanting to say, in a way that others will hear it the way I want to say it.

Similarly, I have learned how to better understand what Mommy actually means versus what it naturally sounded like she was saying- because I was hearing hear with “man” ears.

I will always be very aware in helping you to speak. And I don’t just mean basic sentence structure and vocabulary, as I am right now with you only being 3 years old.

Basically, I mean for the rest of our shared lives- I will be here to help you know how to talk… like a man.

But more importantly, like a man who knows how to speak and listen in a way that is most efficiently understood by the listener; regardless of their gender.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Image By Scratch Wireless

 

 

Scratch Wireless Are You Textually Active? Infographic

Infographic by Image By Scratch Wireless

What career will your child have when he grows up? Find out.

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I Want You To Go Back To Being A Daddy

Tuesday, January 28th, 2014

3 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

During the holidays last month, there was a day where I had to work, but you and Mommy were home.

I didn’t realize it until here recently, but I found these pictures that Mommy took of you wearing my hat and slippers. You had proclaimed to Mommy:

“I’m being Daddy!”

Deep thought: In your eyes, what does it mean to “be Daddy”?

It happened again yesterday afternoon, as we had just finished watching Brother Bear 2 on Netflix. In the movie, the main character, a girl named Nita, chooses to turn into a bear.

As you played trains on the carpet with Mommy, I asked you if you wanted me to turn into a bear. Out of curiosity, you said yes.

In the likeness of Brother Bear 2, I stood up, sort of twirling in slow motion through the air, and when I crouched back down, I pretended to be a roaring bear.

Almost immediately, you stopped me:

Go back to being a daddy!”

So with another slow motion twirl in the air, I turned back into “a daddy.”

But what does in mean, in your eyes, to be a Daddy? And more importantly, to be your Daddy?

For me, it was one of those moments in time where I got accidental confirmation that I must be doing something right, as your parent.

Whatever it means to you that I’m your Daddy, it’s a thing you want and need.

This reminds me of a quote from one of my favorite movies, Garden State:

“It’s like you feel homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist. Maybe it’s like this rite of passage, you know. You won’t ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it’s like a cycle or something. I don’t know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that’s all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place.”

Last night as I wrapped you up in your snowman blanket, singing you “Yellow Submarine,” I heard the mix of nostalgic sadness and happiness in the song.

I imagined what that must be like on your end. I remember. I do…

There’s this deep sentimental connection between a parent and a child about your age; a certain connection I still remember having with my parents in the early 1980s.

You’re in it, right now. You’re in it.

I’m not saying that feeling goes away, but I recognize it as particularly special during those preschool years, when lullabies and stuffed animals are part of everyday life.

It feels like… home. It’s both happy and sad.

The reason it’s sad is because it’s so happy and, deep down, you know it won’t last forever.

You know that the two of you will both grow up and eventually become both be adults.

But as for right now, you get to be the cute little boy, ironically wearing Daddy’s hat and slippers.

 

Love, Daddy

 

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My 3 Year-Old Son’s R-Rated Version Of A Lego Set

Sunday, January 26th, 2014

3 years, 2 months.

Dear Jack,

This weekend Mommy and I let you spend some of your Christmas money, given that it was during “the best time of the month to buy stuff cheap.”

You bought an orange Corvette for 50% off, as well as a new Lego set called Police Pursuit; featuring a classic thief driving a circa 1975 Ford Bronco and a mustachioed policeman chasing him in… of all things… an ATV.

As I read the instructions to build the set, you were eager for me to make the Bronco.

So even though I was supposed to build the policeman and his ATV first, you easily talked me into building the robber and his Bronco instead.

The first thing you noticed once I built it was that the Bronco featured a trunk that lifts up.

Therefore, you immediately began deciding which items the bad guy should keep locked in his trunk; along with the $100 bill and gold bar that came with the set.

You found a big Lego wrench from the farm set Mommy and I got you for Christmas.

Perfect. As well as appropriate.

But there was still more room in the trunk… So as I opened the small plastic baggie containing the parts for the ATV and the cop, you nonchalantly snatched the cop’s head and placed it in the truck of the Bronco.

[Insert sound of a record scratching here to imply ironic, comedic confusion like they do in movie trailers.]

The thing I love most about this story is that by no means were you trying to be funny or weird.

Somehow, you thought it was completely normal to place a human head in the trunk of an SUV.

(I’ve been catching up on Dexter now that it’s back on Netflix, so this seemed a little too familiar to me.)

After you drove the Bronco around for a little while, you decided to throw the human Lego head out onto the ground.

I don’t know if that made the situation better or worse…

Fortunately, within just a few minutes, I had the policeman’s ATV ready.

I made a father and son moment out of letting you place the policeman’s head on his body, like how just a few minutes before, I let you fasten the tires onto the wheels, and the wheels onto the axles.

The more I watched you play with your new Lego set, the more civilized the storyline got: The policeman helped the man in the Bronco and this time around he wasn’t a bad guy at all; just a man who was stuck in the mud.

By the way, you don’t yet fully understand the concept of policemen doing anything other than helping people.

They don’t pull people over for speeding or even chase down criminals…

Instead, they mainly just help people whose cars have a flat tire or are stuck in the mud.

What a sweet, innocent little boy you are, after all!

 

Love,

Daddy 

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