My son just woke up and is calling out, “coffee… cooffffeeeee.” From his bed. Pay some bills around here kid… the you can be tired enough to summon for coffee in bed!
Most mornings I can’t even get coffee in me fast enough… since becoming a teacher/principal and now a parent my I’ve developed a taste for iced coffee:
Recipe for Iced Coffee:
It took almost 3 years but I guess the official parent transition is complete. Just spent an entire car ride singing Ran Tin Tinnah and Shake those Simmons Down complete with hand movements before realizing what I was doing. Thank you music together for this life altering moment. 
(PS… I know all the words too)
Have you ever given a thought about what life was like for kids back 30 or so years ago? Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about how our views of life change as time goes bye and how expectations or certain belief systems evolve as we grow as a society. It’s crazy to me how when I was younger there we so little safety precautions and such a lack of foresight to see what could go wrong with some of the things we used to play with.
I know I’ve written about some of this before… like the fact that buckling my son into a car seat is more complicated than sending an astronaut into outer space, or how a cup of coffee has a warning label to make people aware that it’s hot.
I guess we’ve come a long way from playing with lawn darts… you know those 12 pound weapons that you literally threw directly into the air and would render anyone who was hit with it unconscious. You could take down an elephant with those. Or how about every kid’s favorite fire hazard… the wood burning kit. I knew I had to have this and apparently my parents saw nothing wrong with me using a poorly wired soldering gun to set paper thin wood on fire which was set up directly on the shag carpet. My mom gets mad if she sees me having one beer on Thanksgiving yet she allowed me to play a chemistry set that contained banned substances that kids in high school chemistry class can’t even use anymore.
Today there are bumper guards on top of bumper guards for the crib and bathtub. Kids have seat belts in grocery store shopping carts and there is a gate in every doorway. When I was five years old I convinced my brother to sit on a rock that I knew had a snake den underneath it. I literally used my three year old brother as snake bait. Today everyone in the family is CPR certified.
Have you seen the video if the toddler catching his baby brother from falling off his changing table? That would never happen when I was a kid. We were literally looking for ways to injure each other growing up. It was a rite of passage. It’s how you bonded. I guess times are different now. No dangerous toys and brothers becoming best friends by fighting for family supremacy, but over saving each other from smashing heads on the hardwood floor and preventing future CTE symptoms… Tomāto, Tomăto
This kid will never have to buy his brother s birthday present as long as they live: https://youtu.be/fHxodMNqgVs
Here’s a link to another blog about things we did as kids that were dangerous from s couple of years ago: https://chroniclesofanewdad.com/2014/11/09/15-things-we-did-as-kids-that-were-really-dangerous-article-review/
My son is a two and a half year old Einstein. A modern day Mozart or Isaac Newton. I’m speculating that he has an IQ of approximately 159 – just one point below that of Einstein and Stephen Hawking.
I know, as an educator that some parents, experience unusual intelligence in their children at a young age. I just never thought I’d be that parent… I noticed he was a bright child extremely early. He did try and talk from the minute he was born but obviously he couldn’t verbalise anything, but he would look you right in the eye and attempt to speak.
Granted you couldn’t understand a thing he said… but I chalk that up to him just being so smart he had invented his own language. So I began to wonder what other tell-tale signs there are that could help identify If Jax was actually a genius?
Mensa (the largest and oldest high IQ society in the world) has a checklist on its website that identifies what constitutes a “genius” (I’ve checked off the ones that apply to Jackson):
• An unusual memory ✅
• Reading early ✅
• In-depth knowledge of certain subjects ✅
• An awareness of world events ✅
• Asks questions all the time ✅
• Developed sense of humor ✅
• Musical ✅
• Likes to be in control ✅
• Makes up additional rules for games ✅
Jackson literally is the definition of a genius. Just kidding… he’s two and thinks I really disappear playing peekaboo, he eats dirt and gets excited when he zips up his own onesie himself.
But I’ll tell you this: I couldn’t be more proud of his progress! He’s one hardworking smart little dude!
Dear People with Unsolicited Advice,
Even before Jax was born he had things being purchased for him by the truck load. Some things were bought in bulk, like diaper and onesies with cute and sarcastic pop culture references, and some were bought more carefully… case in point: Taggie (sometimes goes by the alias: Blanky or Lovey). Some people swear by them, some people seem to think they do irrevocable damage to the psyche of a child as they grow older. To some people it seems so crazy that a baby so young could link an inanimate object to a feeling of safety and security… but to me… anything that is good enough for The Peanuts crew is good enough for my kid. Thanks Linus, you were right… Happiness can be found in a Security Blanket.
I understand he’s getting older and I completely understand the feeling that you know what is best for my kid. I get it… you think he’s getting too old to be toting a colorful blanket around as we do errands, the thing is… He loves it… it makes him feel comfortable and safe… and guess what… I don’t care what you think.
My son’s taggie is something that is extremely valuable to this family. It is something that I always want him to have when he needs. God knows I want to have it around whenever I need it… like nap time at a friend’s house, for long car rides and especially for a visit to the doctor. It means more than just safety and comfort to him, I think to mom and dad it is a reminder of how small and innocent he still is. No matter how much he insists on doing on his own these days, he still wants to hold taggie close to him at night. At some point (when we are both ready) taggie will get tucked away in a safe place for him to give to his children or to keep as a memory… but today is not that day.
I was walking into daycare the other day with my son when the person holding the door for me noticed Jackson holding Taggie tightly. She smiled at me and turned to Jax and said out, “You don’t need that, do you? You’re a big boy.”
I try really hard to have a good poker face. To be honest, Im not sure after hearing that statement, if I smiled calmly and nodded or if I scowled and sighed loudly. I do know however, that my brain conjured up about fifteen things I wanted to say in response (luckily none of them came out). Instead of blurting all of those things to this person, who suddenly seemed to be the expert on parenting my son, I think I said something like, “Yes, he needs it. And so do I.”
I hope Jax grows up and holds Taggie for as long as he needs it. I still remember taking my “pillow” with me everywhere I went when I was a kid. I might have even taken it to college with me. At that point it was less about security and more about comfort (although I guess those two are not mutually exclusive anyway). I kept that pillow until recently, when I found it in my closet sitting nicely in a basket under some old sweaters. It must have been there for since I moved into the house 15 or so years ago. It was then that I realized I had no need for it anymore other than a fond memory. And at some point the same will go for my son… just not yet, and I am OK with that.
Bottom line, I have no problem w/ my son loving his taggie. If for some reason you do… MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.
Sincerely,
This Dad
After a long day at work, it’s nice to come home to a home cooked meal.
Getting home late from work is nothing new to me these days. New job, longer commute = later nights. It’s what I signed up for. I knew my time with Jax would be less and my nights would be spent eating a meal out of a Tupperware over the sink before a quick shower and bed right around 10:30-11:00 a few nights a week.
Sleep becomes an old friend and sometimes parallels a long distance relationship… the love is there, but spending time together is few and far between. You learn how to make the moments you have count, you learn how to tiptoe into your sons room and kiss him multiple times without waking him up and you get used to being able to fall asleep anywhere you can lay your head.
But what you don’t get used to is feeling like you might be missing out on something. Coming home to pictures of you child happily playing with his friends at day care and laughing in a photo with his teacher makes you miss him even more. Having to say good night VIA FaceTime is one of the hardest things to do as a parent.
Although, “accidentally” making too much noise as you sneak into you sons room at 10:45pm so that you can pick him up and hug him as he yells “Daddy” makes all the previously stating hard times much, much more tolerable.
Thanks to Steve Jobs for nights like tonight.
Another Halloween… and another day of shoving my poor son (who doesn’t even like wearing normal clothes) in a costume as soft as sandpaper. Why do parents do this to their children? The last thing Jax wants to do before getting dropped off at day care is to put a 14 pound puffy cotton ball on his head.
Getting this kid ready in the morning takes a particular set of skills. Skills needed to have been acquired over a very long career of parenting. Skills that I apparently don’t have which makes mornings a nightmare for people like me (Taken reference). Yet today we decided to add 37 more steps to our morning routine by sending him to school dressed up as Olaf. Poor, poor, poor kid. He took it like a champ though… after ripping the Velcro open a few time and throwing his Olaf head at Buster.
Our first Halloween night where jax was old enough to “get it” was fun. The neighborhood fell under Little Olaf’s spell as they literally dumped candy into his bucket. He said a lot of please and thank yous and even ran into a little Elsa on the side walk and stopped for a quick hug!
Jax then had to begin handing out candy to the older kids before we realized the dogs ate two of the three bags of candy we bought. The final four kids come to the door. Stef says sorry we only have three pieces left and Jax carefully watches his last three snickers bars fall into open pillow cases. The last kid drops his head and is sad. Mind you there was a GIANT SIZE candy bar left of the counter… Stef literally sent a child away because she didn’t want to give up her last KitKat!!!
The night ended when I let the dogs out the front door because a huge crowd rolled up in a trailer hitched to a pickup. No more candy, lights out yet they still kept coming… the dogs took care of that. The dogs literally scared the poop out of hose high schoolers as kids were tripping over each other to get away.
And… fin.
Trick or Treat!
Way before I became a parent, I could have guessed that raising a child would involve, happiness and fear… joy and sadness… laughter and tears. I watched enough 90210 and Full House to know parenting Isn’t easy. I’ll be honest, I pictured this parenting thing being a lot easier than it has been. The highs can be so high, but the lows can be so low.
Realizing that I’m not going to raise the perfect child… the by the book, meet the developmental milestones has been tough especially for the elementary school principal who has spent his entire life working to improve young children’s academic and social/ emotional development has been hard. Then again I also am raising one of the smartest little boys I’ve ever been around. I’ve known 4th graders who can’t follow directions as well as jax does. Following three step directions, even ones that are not sequential is a common occurrence for him. He smiles all the time, laughs often and loves his family and Buster and Max. Those are things that can’t be taught and for that I’m so proud and lucky.
Disclaimer: I don’t want this blog to turn into a pity party or make people think I have this horrible struggle each day. I don’t. I have an amazing son and he has two great parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles who support him and worry about him and brag about him daily.
I’ve described my fears about not being able to help my son. As someone who has spent my life working to improve children’s academic and social/emotional development. I’ve dedicated so much of myself to other people’s children (and I will continue to do that)… I just wish I could help my son more than I am.
We have so much fun together. I can make him laugh with just a look… and he can make me laugh just by laughing. But the times when we get stuck… neither of us able to figure out what it is the other is trying to say… when he is trying so hard to tell me something… to watch the frustration build as he tries harder and harder to convey his message… it’s heart breaking. It’s been one of if not the worst feeling as a parent for me so far.
I sat three feet from my son, I listened intently as he “talked” to me about something. I talked back… he listened and then answered with some words that were understandable and others that were not. I answered him and asked him things to illicit more conversation. I watched as his expression slowly changed as he realized I wasn’t quite understanding him. Frustration began to set in, which turned into tears. Tears that no parent wants to see. The tears that can’t be fixed with a hug, or a bandaid, or a few words of encouragement… Those are the worst.
Immediately I tried to process a million things… What was he trying to say? Am I not listening hard enough? What does that sign he’s making mean? Can he point to what he wants? What is he saying? I found myself asking him things over and over like we were playing 20 Questions. It was a horrible, helpless feeling. Stephanie and I had tears streaming down our faces and Jackson gave up hope and collapsed face first onto the couch and cried.
It was my lowest moment as a dad. I had to help my son and couldn’t. I struggle with balancing letting him deal with things on his own and protecting him from harm. But this was different. It was just sadness. It was a little boy trying so hard to be understood. It was my little boy trying to tell me something. It was a difficult night.
Then each new day is a new opportunity for improvement. Frustration and sadness are part of the parenting process. I know he’s got those words in there somewhere… and they’ll come when he’s ready! So I’ll just keep the faith and keep encouraging my little man to be the best he can be… even if the encouragement comes with some tears (mostly mine).
What would one do if you realized your kid flushed a ceramic pumpkins down the toilet… realization may or may not have occurred after said toilet had been “used”)???
…asking for a friend…
As a follow up to last weekend’s Terrible Twos blog post…
Here is the above mentioned blog: https://chroniclesofanewdad.com/2016/10/06/terrible-twos/
Sorry Sons: Chronicles of a New Dad 