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Visiting with an Old Friend: Harry Potter


Upon writing this in 2016 I was 37 years old

“There’s no way I’m reading this book.” I think I tried at least half a dozen times before finally giving up and looking for an Internet summary for a young-adult lit class in college. The year was 1999, and I was a Division 1 Athlete on a full sports scholarship and didn’t have the time for a story about witches and trolls or whatever these books were all about. It wasn’t until months later, during a dull summer afternoon I gave the Boy Wizard and his Lightening Bolt Scar another shot.

Fifteen-ish years… seven books, eight movies, three trips to the Harry Potter theme park in Orlando and an sleeve of Harry Potter tattoos later, I’m on the verge of attending a midnight release of another Harry Potter book.

I am 37 years old and just became an elementary school principal and I now have a son who turned three this past spring and another who is five months old. Like most of us who are now in our 30s, we grew up alongside the amazing world of Harry Potter, and the impact it has made on our life is hard to quantify. For my generation, (although I joined the wizarding world a little later than most of my peers), Harry Potter is a close friend and trusted companion. We came of age with the the young boy who found who he really was after leaving the “cupboard under the stairs” and we have now taken him into adulthood with us. I can’t imagine a childhood without him, and I’m so glad he’s stuck around as I’ve grown older.

The books came to me at a time when reading was a chore… an assignment or research needed for a paper. I was in college and hadn’t been really interested in a book since The Catcher in the Rye or A Separate Peace which I read early on in high school. I was interested in my track practice schedule and where my next track meet was. I didn’t have time for “reading for fun.” I was never really a fan of the fantasy genre. I never really got into Star Wars and at the time had only read one book in the Chronicles of Narnia series (The Lion, Witch and Wardrobe, of course for a class assignment).

All that until I met a young wizard when I was in my early twenties. I was immediately… pardon the pun… enchanted by J.K. Rowling’s… pardon the pun again… magical way of spinning a tale. Harry, Ron and Hermione felt like old friends and Hogwarts felt like home. I had never interacted with text the way I did with these books. I had heard of “page-turners” before, but never held one myself. That was until that dull summer day all those years ago.

I tore through the first book in a few weeks, the second in about the same. Then came the Prisoner of Azkaban, my favorite of the series, which I devoured in three days on a trip to Boston. Book four, the longest of the series, took me about a week and was the first book I reread multiple times. The Order of the Phoenix was the first book I bought the day it was released and got through it in a few days. Then came book six, The Half Blood Prince. My first midnight release party. That night I asked Stephanie to marry me, gave her a ring and we sprinted to a small Indy bookstore on the Wildwood boardwalk to wait in line with hundreds of other people. I celebrated my engagement by reading in the hotel lobby until five in the morning and had the book finished on the beach the next day. The final book was an incredibly sad, yet even more exciting day for me. The last time I’d travel to Hogwarts with my friends, but also finally a chance to see our story to the finish line. I picked my preordered copy up at 8:00am and read 36 chapters and one epilogue (759 pages) in 17 hours. I stopped to eat and shower (I read during bathroom breaks too).

Luckily, the Potter fandom has created a life-line for the stories years after the books and movies came to an end. The stories’ centralized themes of friendship, love and leadership helped me be more self-reflective and even inspired others to create charities like the Harry Potter Alliance and Hogwarts’ Running Club. A recent study led by top professors across the world states that “people who grew up reading Harry Potter are more politically engaged and develop keener social perception and increased empathy.”


It’s been years since I picked up a new Potter book, but my time in the Wizarding World has still been busy. From Mugglenet.com and MuggleCast, to Pottermore online, movies, plays… and now as an educator and father introducing a new generation to my “old friends” and Professor Dumbledore’s wise words. My sons’ newborn photos (above) were done with a Harry Potter theme, (I’m sure he will love me sharing them when he’s in his teens). That’s what this series is all about… learning to love reading, whether it’s for the first time or like me learning to love reading again later in life.

I’m excited to bring my sons to Hogwarts for the first time and introduce them to my old friends. I’m interested to see if they’ll be sorted into Slytherin like their father… although based on Jackson’s adventurous, brave and quite daring side… I have a feeling he might be a Gryffindor, Oliver… Slytherin, (before the sorting hat even touches his head)… just like that Boy Wizard with the Lightening Bolt Scar I’m sure they’ll be in awe of the wizarding world. No matter the house they’re sorted into, or what it takes for my boys to become interested in the series, I think we’ll all be awaiting our Hogwarts letters together.

Here are some other Harry Potter related blogs I’ve written: 

https://chroniclesofanewdad.com/2018/06/23/top-ten-ways-you-know-youre-obsessed-with-harry-potter/

https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2014/12/07/florida-trip-told-through-harry-potter-quotes/

https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2015/12/07/jax-tattoo/

https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2015/09/17/my-son-is-a-parseltongue/

https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2015/09/02/backtohogwarts/

https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2015/04/02/jackson-and-the-deathly-hallows/

https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2015/03/25/for-in-dreams/

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Temper Tantrum

We had the first real temper tantrum this weekend. I thought there was temper tantrums before… I thought I had seen them bubble up in the past.  I had heard other parents say, “Just wait. When you have a real temper tantrum you’ll know.”
Well, I know now what a real temper tantrum is. There was a real possibility yesterday I was ready to quit. It was bad.  It was really bad.  There was one point where I actually felt like I was going pass out.  I can honestly say I was extremely impressed with his dedication to his craft, because this tantrum went on- and on- and on- and on…

Let me set the stage: 7:00am breakfast and OJ in his sippy cup.  However, he did not want that sippy cup. So he launched it across the room.  Three times… with the last time the cup being launched scud missile style at Buster.

I took the sippy cup and put that thing in time out.   Apparently this was not on his “things that daddy does that make me happy” list.  

Now I’ve heard some crazy stories about toddler tantrums before.  Kids freaking out because their shadow was following then around or something like that:

  1. My 2 year old wanted to go to work…on cars. He literally screamed and cried cause he didn’t have a job. – Tamara 
  2. I stopped my daughter from inflating herself with a bike pump. Cue tantrum. – Rebecca 
  3. Because she couldn’t lick me. And she needed to lick someone. – Sarah Because he couldn’t make himself disappear. – Sharryn 
  4. Because he wasn’t green. – Vicki Because his baby sister’s sippy cup squeaks when she chews on it…and his doesn’t. – Caroline 
  5. That we’d run out of Crunchy Nuts. I should have filmed it and sent it to Kelloggs. I’d be rich now. – Leona
  6. Because his sister looked out the window of the side of the car he was sitting on – Pam 
  7. Because Mummy drove the car and not Daddy – Emma 
  8. Because I went to the toilet before her, despite her saying minutes before she didn’t need to go. – Sandie 
  9. Because a little girl at daycare’s favourite colour was also pink. – Rewa 
  10. For turning the corner in the car – Lauren
  11. Because I peeled the banana and he couldn’t put it back into the peel – Elizabeth

So here we are…FULL ON TANTRUM. Screaming, yelling, spinning in circles.  Angry he had milk to drink after asking for milk to drink.  

I watched this little monster run from room to room wait for me to walk after him and throw things on the floor. I watched him turn his head side to side and look at things that he could push down. I just witnessed the first in a long line temper tantrums.  

Send help… I’m going to need it.  

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Power Outage 

We are at DEFCON 5 over here.  There’s no power and it’s hotter than a sauna on the equator right now.  Every door and window in this house is propped open with the hopes that we can attract even the smallest breeze in the family room.  

“What are we supposed to do with a two year old when there is no power? Is this how the Pilgrims lived?”  All quotes from overheard here tonight. (Mind you none of those quotes were mine). I was too busy lighting candles and getting the Dooms Day Survival Pack out and set up. 

We lost power for two hours and I was ready to dip into our astronaut food and reserve water. The iPad wouldn’t connect with out wifi and the ACs were out of setvice so Jackson’s bedroom was Sahara Desert hot. 

Im not sure how people survived before air conditioning, but I’m just unbelievably glad our power came back on for bed time!

CRANK THE AC…

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Track Star

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If you have been reading my blog the last two-plus years you know I get excited over the little things… I’m pretty sure all parents do. I really enjoy the simple things… watching my son learn from the environment around him, watching him make mistakes and then figure out how to fix them, or even just laughing at something funny he does.  However, there are times in every parent’s life that they feel an extreme amount of pride, which goes above and beyond that normal love they have for their child.  Watching your child graduate from college or get married would be two of these times I would assume.  But for me… one of those times happened yesterday.  I watched my son go over hurdles on the same track I did so many years ago.  It was one of those moments that I’ll never be able to accureate describe to him… one of those times that I felt blessed to be able to witness him grow up and be able to participate in his development as a little person.

I know I get a lot of grief about how much I talk about track and hurdling… then again, it occupied a HUGE portion of my life and paved the way for me to a free college education. I accomplished a lot in my athletic career in high school and college and I still am most proud that track and field provided me so many opportunities including a scholarship, the ability to travel to so many places and meet so many people and most of all the knowledge that sometimes you aren’t going to be the best at something… but you can overcome and sometimes accomplishing your own personal goals are even more rewarding then actually winning.  To some people the track is a six lane, rubberized surface for working out.  For me it was a pathway to a better me.

I hope my son can find that one day, whether it is though sports, or the arts or his academics. But yesterday it was about a start on that same pathway that helped me become who I am today.  Jax stepped out on the track for the first time as an athlete.  He walked down the same lanes his dad had dominated (sorry had to get that in there) for so many years.  He stopped to pin on his bib number just like his dad had done before him.  He waited at the starting line, heart beating out of his chest with anxiousness (OK, maybe I made that part up… but he could have been nervous right?) for the start of his first hurdle event just like his dad’s had before every race.

In all reality, the race itself was less about getting over the hurdles than it was about being able to bond with my son over something that we both love to do. Although right now he might not want to stay in one lane or told when he can actually start his race, this kid love to RUN! He wakes up and (pardon the pun) hits the ground running.  He chases Max around the front yard, runs up and down the sidewalk when we walk around the neighborhood and I have to say he has amazing leg turnover already.

The race itself was hilarious! The kids in attendance all had some much fun and Jax was excited to chase and get chased by a bunch of bigger kids.  I would be remised to say that there wasn’t a heated moment on the track though… just like the old days.  This time it wasn’t about a disputed finish or an argument over timing.  It was after Coach Grimes gave all the adults their one warning… “STAY OFF THE TRACK AND LET THE KIDS COMPETE.”  About 25 meters into the race and with Jax starting to hit his groove a disgruntled women came running out of the stands and onto the track.  At first there was concern it was a protestor or an angry competitor out for revenge.  But after a closer look it was neither, it turned out to be a grandmother (or in this case a Mima) who refused to let her grandchild lose.  You can see this Mima disregard all the rules and spectators yelling at her as she takes Jackson by the hand and leads him to the finish line.  You have got to respect a grandmother’s will to win at all costs!

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Mima to the rescue!

 

Let’s end this blog with a quick review of Jackson’s first hurdle race…

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Run Fast, Be First

The Start was OK… never a great part of dad’s races either. He was leaning a bit on his heels and didn’t react to the gun fast enough and got off to a slow start.  As stated earlier, his leg turn over and speed between the hurdles was a thing of beauty.  He was fast, quick to get up to the hurdle and kept his steps even  and well-paced.

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Just like daddy!

The hurdle itself was tough as it is for every person. The first time I went over one I looked like a duck in midair who was just shot out of a tree.  The lead up to the hurdle was, however, beautiful.  He drove his knee to his chest and had a perfect lean into the hurdle itself.  His first hurdle was a thing of beauty, he was over it and ready to attack the next one immediately.  Once he gained some confidence, he went after the higher setting and clipped a few hurdle tops on his way to the finish line.

All in all, a successful race and potential that is oozing out of his pours. This kid is going to be a champ one day… and even if he isn’t, I still treasure this day as long as I live!

 

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Sick Day

The Captain of U.S.S. Sick Day

The sick day is every school aged child’s dream.  It’s a mini vacation in your own home. It’s a staycation.  Now as an adult… Sick days are a nightmare… especially as an educator. Anyone who has written lesson plans for a substitute knows that.  The amount of details in one substitute lesson plan could fill up a JK Rowling novel.  Then add in needing a sick day because your two year old is whiny, crying and has a high fever and you have the perfect storm of frustrating circumstances. 

It’s sad what the sick day has become for me. (Which is probably why I’ve maybe used five total sick days the last ten years combined). A sick day for me, in say 4th grade, took careful planning. A very specific and detailed itinerary was crafted to make sure I utilized my time wisely. There could be no wasted time on a sick day. There was a need for the perfect balance of sleep and television viewing.

That brings us to THE BEST FRIEND any sick child can ask for… Bob Barker.  The man… the myth… the legend.  The voice of the people with high fevrers, the flu, and those whom just had their tonsils removed.  The Price is Right is a (excuse the pun) right of passage for all children too sick to go to school, yet old enough to stay home alone.  The Price is Right ushered in the changing of a boy to a young man. It stood for independence… and also stood for the fact that before DVR and Netflics there was NOTHING on TV on weekday mornings.  It was good ‘Ole Bobby and watching 14 straight episodes of SportsCenter to see if you can figure out if they were live each time or reruns.  Either way all still better options that practicing your spelling words on that half sheet of lined paper.   

Which brings me back to yesterday… Jax first sick day home from school. It was an adventure from minute one…  101 fever = one miserable child. There was no Bob Barker ‘s soothing voice and no highlights of the previous day’s Web Gems. It was tears and Peppa Peg. It was refusal of food and throwing up of Tylenol. 

This little boy is the so active and high energy!  Yet the morning came and all he wanted to do was snuggle up with a blanket and watch Daddy Pig win the World Puddle Jumping Championships.  So after force-feeding him some Tylenol he seemed back to normal. LIke return fron the dead normal:

I turned around for 30 seconds and when I look back he was up off the couch and ready to fight the Dark Lord Sauron.  I mean he literally came back to life like nothing I had ever seen before!

There was no more TV time, there was no sitting on my lap to read a few Dr. Seuss stories and even the ever-popular sensory activity time was a failure. All this little guy wanted to do was get outside and play. He couldn’t get his shoes on fast enough… he coyldnt get out the door and get on his “quad” fast enough.  The only issue… no battery power.  How do you explain to your child that you forgot to charge the battery to his Power Wheels…….?  Apparently you dont hAve to.  I guess he has his own way of problem solving.  A screw driver and some hex keys and right to work he went. On a side note, I learned he has the mechanical skills of his father… which is NONE: 

“Maybe if I just close my eyes and jiggle stuff in here around it will work?!!??”

There are positives and negatives to having a two year old who is high energy and prefers to be outdoors to sitting inside on a beautiful day.  It’s great on weekends and when youre on vacation. Also, its great knowing my son is going to want to play sports and run around and climb trees rather than play video games all day. That is a rewarding feeling as a parent.  But on days like today… days where I just wanted to sit and watch a Showcase Showdown or two… days where a sick day needs to be a sick day… these are the days that make a a young fellow like myself… a REAL DAD. 

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Martial Law?

Both a sad and amazing picture of humanity. People risking their own lives to protect a baby from another person trying to kill innocent people.

A good friend of mine just had a beautiful baby boy. And instead of congratulations the first thing I say to him is, “did you see that Dallas stuff? Great time to bring a child into this world huh?!??”  (Can you sense sarcasm over the internet?)

How has our outlook on life become so omnious that the first thing we think about after having a baby is… well this is a shitty time to have a kid.” It’s supposed to be an amazing time. It’s 2016 and I have a two year old. I should be jumping for joy for the advancements in technology (IE: iPads so you can shower without your child trying to climb in, or authors who write books that are less than 10 pages long so bedtime prep isn’t four hours long.)  

I just don’t get it anymore though. Police officers when I was a kid were like the raddest people around. You either wanted to either be a cop, a firemen, or an astronaut. Police officers were just, people were good and the bad ones went to jail.  I don’t get how we got here. Did things get this bad this quickly, or have I just been this naive to notice the slow decline of humanity?  

I feel like when I was a young lad my parents were worried about a few simple things… don’t eat glue sticks, don’t play in the middle of a busy street, eat your  vegatables… especially your carrots so you don’t go blind and you have to wait at least half an hour after eating do you don’t drown. Now we worry about things a bit more serious… Airline hijackings, shoe bombs, AR15 rifles being used for attacks against innocent people.  What happened to us.  What happened to being against the “bad people?”  Not being against one class of people or one race. 

Jon Stewart said something about it being ok to be against corrupt police offices while still being supportive of our policemen and women. They aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s ok to be upset about things going on in the world with out spreading more hate. We have children who watch us amd.learn more from our actions than our words.

I have another friend who posted about wanting to bring her daughter to the inauguration if we had our first female president voted into office (political beliefs aside).  However, she said she doesn’t feel safe doing so. How is that fair to our children?  To anyone?  

It’s like we declared martial law without anyone knowing or something. What did I miss that turned our society into a real life Hunger Games? Either I need.to sharpen my bow and arrow skills (can you sharpen a skill you presently don’t have?), or we have got to get our stuff together out here.  

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Walkin’ the Mile 💉


Just a miserable way to start of a beautiful Saturday.  This poor kid had no idea what he was about to go up against.  He was just so cute walking through the parking lot, seeing the ambulances and giving high fives to police officers and security guards.

Needless to say he had no idea he was going to be encountering a needle wielding woman who only wanted him  his blood.  It’s tough watching your kid walk so innocently with a big smile knowing he’s about to get stabbed more times than an inmate in a prison fight. The worst part is trying to keep a calm demeanor, because toddlers are like fortune tellers or gypsies or something, one wrong look and they immediately sense imminent danger and their happy, go-lucky attitude turns into all out panic mode as they flee for the nearest exit.  

Luckily we made it to the waiting room, but not with out the saddest looks  from just about every human in the building as we walked down the hall. I’m not even quite sure who the looks were for… Might have been for me knowing what I’m about to endure as well. It was a short distance but the walk felt like a epic journey down that white hallway which was lit by buzzing UV lights. 

We got the waiting room and he immediately made himself at home, pulling out an US Weekly and leafing through the pages.  (On a side note why are all hospital magazines decades old? Is it necessary on a day like today for my son to have to read about Jennifer Anisten and Brad Pitt filing for divorce?  I mean get something from this decade at least!)

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The moment of truth arrived soon after Jax read about the falling of the Berlin Wall. As we were called in to a small room with two chairs, one which looked appropriately like an “electric chair” Jax began to understand why  we were there.  Sadly for him it was too late to run. I sat in the electric chair and was instructed to “hold him tight and not to let him move…”  I laughed sarcastically and wondered if they understood holding a two year old down is like trying to catch water with a strainer.  Luckily my PMT training came in handy as the basket hold at least kept him at bay until the needle began to jab him.  I literally watched in horror as they jabbed the needle, what seemed like 19 different times, in various directions and still did not find a vein.  I felt as if I were watching a live episode of Game of Thrones. 

 
After what seemed like hours of trying and more needle jabs than Barry Bonds in his prime, poor Jax was covered in tears and snot.  No SpiderMan bandaid was going to solve this problem and, “no nurse he doesn’t want your Lighteming McQueen sticker.” What he wants is to get the hell out of here and never come back.  

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Hide and Seek


Two year old are magical. I’ve realized that Jax is literally the perfect blend of funny and clueless (clueless because he’s two, but clueless in that hilariously cute kind of way). Two year olds get bored of toys faster than I get bored watching the “Blood Borne Pathogens Video” at the beginning of every school year. Even though he was given about 14 million toys not even five weeks ago for him birthday he is completely over them and of course he’s onto to something new

So the now the new thing he is having me chase him around the house and then trying to hide from me. He runs about .5mph, looking back the entire time. He gets about three feet stops and laughs. Then starts running again.  But here’s the thing. He is horrible at hiding. I mean literally he actually just is really, really bad. I’ve looked right at him standing behind a kitchen chair like i can’t see him. Just laughing out loud thinking he’s a freaking genius.  

I mean if anyone ever broke into our house we are screwed. Have you ever seen Signs with Mel Gibson? You know where the Aliens break into the house and the family is hiding in the basement? I imagine we’d last about 12 seconds because Giggles McGee would be laughing up a storm. “Hey guys. Don’t look downstairs. We’re not down here hiding… hahahahahahahaha!”

I need to teach this kid some new tricks… Or at least how to keep quiet during hide and seek!  

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Silly Bee


So tonight I was laying in bed looking at the “silly bee” my son made me at school today and i literally started to get upset. No, not because my son made a bee that look like he had too much sambuca in his honey, but I just pictured him trying to figure out what he was doing.  

I get sad thinking about him there sometimes. Making a stupid bee. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it… Like he probably is so sad with out mom and dad there.   

Then I start freaking out and weird thoughts start running through my mind.  Like: “does he wonder if he’s being forced into manual labor? Or, why am I sitting here at this table with this glue? Why can’t I can’t get up and play?  I just want to play.”

I know, I know… I’m ivertored and need some sleep.  My parent brain is starting to overheat.  It’s constantly in worry mode lately. But I guess that’s what being a parent is all about… Worrying and learning to like KidzBop.