Posts Tagged ‘ gummy bears ’

Those “Hey, You Just Grew Up!” Moments

Tuesday, January 1st, 2013

2 years, 1 month.

Dear Jack,

Watching you grow up is like watching the minute hand move on a clock.

It’s not until I look away for a little while, then look back again, that I can see a change.

There were a few pictures that Mommy must have recently taken while getting you ready for school that I found on our camera.

When I saw them, I thought, “Hey, that’s Jack… I don’t remember him looking… like that… so grown up!”

I mean, it wasn’t that long ago were my “baked potato,” and before you were even a year-old yet, you were my cool necktie-wearing gummy bear.

Weeks of everyday life go by with all their routine and their seeming lack of uniqueness, but it’s in those doldrums that you’re growing up; even if I can’t see it as it’s happening.

A couple months ago one of the ongoing themes I focused on was how you didn’t really look that much like me or Mommy.

Well, now, I can clearly see you’ve graduated from  that phase where babies all sort of like the same to where now you are truly starting to look like a mix of your parents.

If this were a 1990 laugh track-infused sitcom, I would find it much more believable that you could be the son of Mommy and me.

But, I admit, it would sort of be like the 2nd season after the baby is born, where they suddenly replace the baby with a talking-toddler.

Like Nicky and Alex on Full House. Or Andy Keaton on Family Ties. Or Chrissy Seaver on Growing Pains. Or Lilly Lambert on Step By Step.

You and I have both become less generic and more mature people, since April 13, 2010, when I first started this blog.

Back then, you were a 3 month-old fetus who I best understood through a black-and-white sonogram. You’ve come a long way, kid.

But so have I. I learned how to become a dad.

Like Elvis Costello in 1983, everyday I write the book. We figure this out together, in real time.

Along the way, there have been things I’ve said on The Dadabase, that looking back now, I wouldn’t say; nor are they still accurate depictions of how I see things.

There were times I was so zealous about representing myself as a confident dad with a consistent parenting plan, that it probably came across as bravado, not confidence.

And I do regret my former tone in regards to controversial topics like abortion, circumcision, the cry-it-out method, and even politics in general. I see now how I was only adding to the noise of two extremely polarized camps preaching to their own choirs.

That’s not me anymore. Everyday, I’m becoming more like Jack Johnson. And everyday, you’re becoming more like Jack the boy… not the baby.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

 

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My Son is Sort of a Gummy Bear

Friday, September 23rd, 2011

Ten months.

The title almost makes enough sense on its own, right? If it were possible to shrink Jack down to half an inch tall and color him all red, he would make the perfect Gummy Bear. It’s that simple. Or on the flip side, if it were possible to mutate a Gummy Bear into a living human being, it would become Jack.

On most of the bags that the candy comes in, there’s a cartoon of a bear waving at the consumer, as if to say, “Well hey there, come be my friend!”. For me, Jack encompasses the assumed personality of a Gummy Bear: He’s fun, he’s friendly, and he’s cuddly.

 

Here lately, I’ve been noticing that Jack is a bit more cuddly than normal. Usually, he has to be a part of the action, whatever it is; it usually involves an attempt to disassemble or make a skateboard out of something, while putting it in his mouth.

To my surprise, Jack has been regularly crawling in my lap and letting me massage his shoulders. I guess he needs some relaxation from all his hard work. The more cuddly he gets, the more he becomes a Gummy Bear to me.

Of course, there is another kind of gummy bear that Jack reminds me of, one that’s spelled with an “i.”  I’m referring to the 1980′s Disney cartoon with the really awesome theme song. The youngest of the group was an adventurous pink boy bear that carried around a wooden sword; his name was Cubbi.

I have Jack’s famous “tie picture” hanging up at my cubicle wall at work. Sometimes I look at it, the shape of his pastel, rainbow necktie makes me think of Cubbi and his sword.

My son is a cute, little, adventurous bear cub. And for some reason right now, I’ve got a case of the munchies…

 

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