Sunday, March 16th, 2014
3 years, 4 months.
Yesterday morning as we were hanging out at the park, waiting for the Monster Jam truck show to begin, you got your clothes pretty dirty.
As Mommy put it, “Jack, you smell like a boy.”
That’s what she says after you’ve had a lot of fun outside, doing what little boys should be doing:
Running around, crashing your toy monster trucks into each other, rolling in the leaves, lying on the ground, touching random people’s pet ferrets…
Yeah, you managed to do all those things in a 45 minute time span.
In essence, all the clothes you wear are “play clothes.”
Because honestly, when are you not playing and getting dirty?
I know these days there are so many rules and expectations about boys “behaving” in a classroom setting.
That’s why when you’re not in school, I encourage you to let loose.
You’re a boy.
I want you to feel like one. I want you to feel like you can be one.
It’s important to me that you can be yourself and express your energy in a harmless way… by getting your clothes dirty.
Granted, our family is very into hygiene.
But there’s definitely a difference between germs and dirt.
I don’t like germs.
However, dirt I don’t have a problem with. Hey, it’s natural. It’s the Earth itself, right?
So sure, you washed your hands after petting the ferret… only to get them dirty again by lying down on the sidewalk.
Like riding on the front of a grocery shopping cart or running around aimlessly in open-ended public spaces, it’s just one more thing that little boys are supposed to do: Get dirty.
I want you to be disciplined and respectful and kind.
But I also want you to enjoy the fresh air, the green grass, and the brown dirt.
It’s only natural. Literally.
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Thursday, September 16th, 2010
Until this week, I didn’t even know how to spell “Lamaze”, or even more importantly, what exactly it meant. All I knew is that it involved breathing techniques for women in labor. Monday night we had our first Lamaze class (out of six) and now I have a better understanding of what this is all about: Lamaze (named after a French doctor) classes help expecting parents to prepare for the birth of their child ideally without the use of medical intervention (AKA: going natural).
I think our take on “going natural” with this birth is currently along the lines of “let’s just see if we can do it”. Ideally, we won’t use pain medication, and a C-section won’t be necessary. But we obviously recognize it may not happen that way. We half-way joke with each other that if we can do this without an epidural, we’ll spend that saved money on a trip to Maine. I’m seriously planning on printing off a picture of us on our honeymoon at Kennebunkport to take when we go to the hospital, as inspiration. But we’ll see how it turns out in reality. I’m starting to care less either way.
With us starting Lamaze classes, it takes us to a whole new level of “Wow, this is really happening!” We’re both having weird, off-the-wall dreams, evidently fueled by our subconscious anxieties. I recently dreamt that Jack was born with light blonde hair and blue eyes, which I think is near impossible given our particular genes, though Uncle Jesse and Aunt Rebecca from Full House had blonde twins (and I could never get past that).
We both have sore backs these days, as it’s hard to sleep comfortably for either of us because my wife has to sleep sideways now with about five pillows, meaning I’m limited to a smaller sleeping space. But hey, I’m not complaining. I just want to do anything necessary to help her feel a little more comfortable during the pregnancy. And we are starting to feel this sense of unsettledness as we count down these final eight weeks or so. It’s getting to the point where we are both thinking, “Enough of this pregnancy stuff, I’m just ready for him to be born already!”
All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:
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