Father’s Day Perspective from a Father

I don’t praise myself too often, I am a relatively humble guy, but there are three things I’ve done right in my life and I’ll brag about them whenever I can.

  1. Marrying Stephanie (easy one… I lucked out here. Talk about marrying up!!!)
  2. Being Jackson’s dad (again, easy one. First born son and he’s as close to perfect as any child could ever be)
  3. Being Oliver’s dad (they say the second child is the hardest, but in this case I’d argue that the second child just as near perfect as the first).

There is not a day that goes by that I am not blessed to have these three in my life. Things are not always easy and don’t always go as planned. Work is stressful and there are always bills to pay. But there is one constant guiding light that can brighten any day… being a dad.

I work with children everyday of my life and it’s not easy, but it’s so rewarding to know that you have helped a child succeed. I am lucky because I get to do for a living. I enjoy knowing that others can count on me to support their children just like I would my own children. I consider it honor that parents would trust me with their most prized “possession” (not a great word choice, but the best I could do to convey the importance of one’s child). However much I love being an elementary school educator, I can honestly say there is NO BETTER job in life than being a father to these two little dudes.

Jackson and Oliver, thanks for making me a dad… I love you both very much!

Bojo

Both of these little boys have had their fair share of interesting vocabulary developments over the years. There had been speech delays in years past, but now there is little quiet time. There has been mispronunciations and completely made-up words.

Children haven’t been conditioned to follow our extremely tricky rules of speech just yet, so they quite often just come up with names for things as their creative brains see fit. One of the best things about watching kids grow up is witnessing them gradually grasping language, but then also free styling with that same language to rename things they can’t say.

Then there’s poor Grandma Nancy who has been called everything but Grandma. The names she’s been called include:

  1. Grammy
  2. Bammy
  3. Bamsters
  4. Bam

And now… “BOJO”

For in Dreams

“For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let them swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.” -Albus Dumbledore #ChroniclesOfANewDad

#HarryPotter #PrisonerOfAzkaban #ProfessorDumbledore #jkrowling #HarryPotterTattoo

Dr. Dolittle

I sincerely apologize for the Blair Witch Project cinematography, but this video is Oscar worthy. Best picture, best actor, best impression of multiple animals.

Oliver is Saturday Night Live’s new GoatBoy. What do you want… a horse? A gopher? A Yeti? He’s got you… you need a duck call? How about someone to help round up a flock of sheep? Oliver is your guy.

Most people need a few cups of coffee in the morning to even be cognizant, but not Oliver. It’s 5:35am on a Saturday morning in this video and he’s coo-cooing every animal between Noah’s Arc and Old McDonald’s Farm. He’s a savant, an animal whisperer… our very own Dr. Dolittle.

Peggy Ann McKay, Jr

Sick

By Shel Silverstein

“I cannot go to school today,”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more–that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut–my eyes are blue–
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke–
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is–what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play.

Great poem, fun to read, makes all the kids in your class laugh during a read aloud. Let’s break this poem down Common Core style.

CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.RL.4.2
Determine a theme of a story, drama, or poem from details in the text; summarize the text.

CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.RL.4.5
Explain major differences between poems, drama, and prose, and refer to the structural elements of poems (e.g., verse, rhythm, meter) and drama (e.g., casts of characters, settings, descriptions, dialogue, stage directions) when writing or speaking about a text.

By first read this poem utilizes a few common literary devises. The first and most obvious being hyperbole. This first rhetorical devise is used by an author as a way to evoke strong feelings through over exaggeration. This whole poem is riddled with these exaggerated phrases. for example;

“My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.”

In this section of this poem, hyperbole is used to exaggerate how her tongue is so swollen.

The second literary device used by Shel Silverstein is a more basic one… the simile, in which one thing in the poem compares to something else. A perfect example of this is, “My tonsils are as big as rocks.” We’ve all had a sore throat, but not as bad as Peggy Ann McKay… who’s throat is so bad it feels like her tonsils are the size of boulders when she swallows.

The third literary device Mr. Silverstein used to support Peggy’s complaints in this poem was rhyme scheme. Rhyme scheme is a poet’s purposeful pattern of lines that rhyme with the following lines. The rhyme and meter, helps to make a poem musical.

“My neck is stiff, my spine is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.”

The analysis above looks at what makes this poem so enjoyable, easy to read and listen to and most of all humorous. Humorous, that is, unless you’re Oliver (or his parents for that matter). We use this poem more for a check list to diagnose our littlest guy than we do for a good laugh.

I’m not sure what happened over the last six months; I don’t know if he needs to be put in a bubble or what, but he is a giant walking germ. We’ve gone from a cough and fever to a cold, to a virus, to the dreaded toddler pneumonia.

Poor Ollie’s tired all day, but he can’t fall asleep,

His head is hot, and he’s curled up in a big heap.

I’m pretty sure there’s something in his ear,

I don’t even think he can hear.

Shel Silverstein I’m not (clearly from the stanza above), but I’m pretty sure we are raising the second coming of Peggy Ann Mckay. Let’s just hope he feels better this weekend…

Wait… You say today is… Saturday? Crap, he’s still not okay!

To the Person Who Bought My Son a Whistle

He that fights and runs away, May turn and fight another day; But he that is in battle slain, Will never rise to fight again.

I get it… when he wants something he can be extremely persistent. It’s easier to give in then to argue. That’s every parent’s life from day to day. You pick and chose your battles. “Live to fight another day.

“But this… a whistle… this was a battle to fight. It sounds like a goddamn marching band drum major is now living in my house.It’s been a tough 24 hours around here since this kid and his whistle became best friends. He wants a snack, “vreeeeeeew!!!” Can’t reach something on the top shelf, “vreeeeeeew!!!” Oliver is bothering him, the dogs are getting into the garbage… “vreeeeeeew!!!” It’s non stop. This kid thinks he’s the Dancing Traffic Cop now.

To the person who bought this damn whistle… I will find you!!!

Bend the Knee

Why are things getting tougher?!??? As they age shouldn’t things be easier. I mean I understand the phrase “little kids little problems, big kids big problems,” but should at least certain activities be easier?

Case in point: getting my children into their pajamas. Every night it’s like trying to tame a Targaryen dragon. It’s like trying to get a catch a greased pig. It’s like Rocky chasing that damn chicken. The worst part is… they both know it. They know it’s a struggle and they love it. It’s a game to them. I hate losing… so do they.

Jackson can be convinced, he’s somewhat reasonable. It’s Oliver though who is night in and night out ready to go to war over putting his pajamas on. I can’t say it’s WWE in my house every night when I’m getting trying to get him in pajamas but it is definitely challenging most nights.

You can see it in his eyes as soon as the door to his bedroom swings open. It’s like his promo music comes on the Jumbotron and his chin is held high and chest sticks out a little further. He knows the battle is about to begin. Picture Jon Snow drawing his sword as the Battle of the Bastards is about to begin.

He straightens his legs and becomes stiff as a board. That first leg slides into the onesie with little to no problem… then the battle begins! BEND THE KNEE DAMN IT!!! BEND IT!!!! He doesn’t and he won’t. Not willingly at least.

Try what you want… try to bend it yourself… not a chance. Try “this little piggy” on those little toes… hell try tickling him. All of a sudden he’s able to withstand all attempts to get him to laugh. Bring in reinforcements… mom, older brother. No matter… he ain’t budging. He ain’t bending that knee. Not until he’s sure you’ve lost your will to keep trying. Not until he’s broken your spirit. Not until he’s confident you know he’ll never Bend The Knee… until he’s ready