Eight going on EIGHTEEN! Seriously, when I woke up this morning I feel like you had a full beard and were reading the Wall Street Journal. It’s insane to me how much you have grown. You are such an exceptionally hard worker, a fierce, fierce friend and most importantly a loving big brother.
Eight years after you were born and we (mom and I) are still amazed by you every single day. Yes, you drive us crazy, there is a lot more talking back and many, many more “No’s” than all those years ago, but we wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Covid has put a damper on so much of your childhood, but you continue to persist. Masks, virtual learning, vaccinations and social distancing are as much part of your birthday as cake and balloons. Yet, here you are… eight years old and still making the best of everything.
I’ve watched you pick up your brother when he falls, then push him back down five minutes later, then pick him back up again! I’ve watched Oliver have a meltdown and you try to calm him, then laugh. (Always with him, never at him… just like a big brother should do and I would know!)
You have become such a leader in your school and among your friends. You know right from wrong and always make sure to advocate for anyone that needs help.
Mom and I want nothing more than you to be happy, healthy and grow into a caring, kind and respectful young man… and if the past eight years are any indication… then you’re already there!
Happy Birthday, Jackson. We all love you very much!
“It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.” -Albus Dumbledore
We’re at the point in parenting children (in terms of a nighttime routine) where it’s not just dealing with diapers and trying to get them to sleep w out crying. Those infant stage all-nighters are expected when you have babies. They poop themselves and they want to eat that’s what babies do. But now we have older kids… no more babies. They are supposed to read a book and fall asleep peacefully.
Therefore, taking care of two children who are almost eight and five years old we expect nighttime cooperation. Unfortunately, these damn kids are at the age where they have learned that they have some power in the world, and they’ve decided to seize any opportunity to use it. We’re not surprised by our mini-negotiators saying anything to stall their bedtime—even if they’re about to fall asleep mid-sentence. That’s not an issue. I can deal with that.
But, this is different. This is every night at 1am… 2:30am… every night. They seek us out. They are just there. I don’t know how they get in our bed. I don’t understand the science behind being able to climb over us get under the blankets and not wake anyone up. They just do it. It’s magic, it’s sorcery. Somehow they just appear. Every. Goddamn. Night.
I wake up with either a foot jammed up my____, or with someone crying about a monster that might be in the closet, or bathroom, or on the roof. Listen, I respect that. I had my fair share of nightmares a kid. But, I’m starting to wonder if these stories are just made up. Legit, made up dreams to make mom and I just give in and let them stay in bed with us.
Case in point:
Last week… It was the middle of the night, and we were sound asleep (Steph had already abandoned ship after being up for hours trying to calm a miserable four year old who wanted to stay up and watch tv/ have a drink of water/ have a snack/ read one more book/ etc, etc, etc). I thought I had finally gotten a night of sleep only wake up at 3:30 to the sound of someone having a full on conversation in the bed. It took me a minute to realize it was Oliver talking to someone. I looked around to see who the hell he was talking too. “Steph?,” I whispered. That’s when I realized we were alone.
I jumped out of bed and did whatever a guy needs to do when he believes his home is being invaded, (or his son is possessed), I screamed like a 14 year old girl seeing Harry Styles for the first time in concert. “Ok, everything is fine,” I said to myself. No one is here. No poltergeist or anything like that, right? But then I heard more mumbling… “Gyro [our neighbors dog] is barking! His face is right there, but it’s square?!!!”
My first thought: WTF?!? My second thought: Is my kid hallucinating?!!
That’s our life now… waking up to children in our bed at 2am talking about our neighbor’s dog. (And we thought the baby night time stage was hard). It’s exhausting, but the good news is I’ve read some advice from a parenting blog (clearly one that takes themselves way more serious than #ChroniclesOfANewDad. Their advise was:
“Carry your midnight wanderer back to their room every time they bust into yours. If you let them crash with you, you’re setting the stage for a never-ending bedtime battle. Consider hanging bells on your doorknob so you can hear your toddler coming; that way, you can walk them back to their room before they climb into your bed and make themselves comfy.”
“Walk them back, tell them to stay in their own rooms, carry them back yourself”… it’s not working here (there’s no way it’s happening anywhere). Everyone has advise, everyone has ideas until they wake up with a foot in their butt-crack and a four year old talking to the next door neighbor’s dog!
If baseball is America’s national pastime, then collecting baseball cards is a close second. People everywhere are searching every nook and cranny of their childhood home for those boxes and binders of cards! Could there be a Frank Thomas NNOF, or a mint Ken Griffey, Jr ’89 Upper Deck? Closets, crawl spaces, and attics across the country are full of cards from every era. Years ago, the Mantles, Ruths, Williams and others from the prewar days were stuck in bike spokes or lost forever as children grew out of the hobby.
Baseball card values depend on many factors, like age, condition, scarcity, and the collectible market trends at the time. Mantle’s Topps RC card recently set an auction record and sold for $5.2 million, people everywhere claim they have an original 1909 Honus Wagner T206 card. Every year there is a new card that sets the market on fire, a Mike Trout Gem Mint 10, an Ohtani Gold Foil, or a 1993 Jeter SP. There is always something new. Either way, few things for collectors elicit the adrenaline rush of finding a legend’s rookie card.
Obviosly, pulling a rookie card out of a pack of an up and coming superstars or finding a rare and expensive legend are especially coveted. Jackie Robinson first appeared on 1948-49 Leaf and Hank Aaron’s rookie card is in the 1954 Topps set. Roberto Clemente’s first baseball card is a 1955 Topps card and maybe the most famous baseball card, besides Wagner, is the Mantle rookie either his 1951 Bowman (which I prefer), or the aforementioned 1952 Topps.
Baseball card collectors have always had their own reasons for collecting. Some collect their favorite team, or player, but in recent years, a large push in the card industry has been the intentional investment in the rookie cards of unproven players, hoping they will become stars one day and that their card will skyrocket in value. Everyone is buying out the minor league top draft picks; Juan Soto and Robert Acuña are proving those collectors who invested early to be correct (and rich). They were the focus of the “new” collectors recently. That was until the newest and hottest card in decades was released.
On August 23, 2021 the hobby was turned upside down. A card was released that not only shows what some in the hobby say is the most handsome player to ever don a baseball jersey, but also say it could become the first $10 million baseball card.Introducing the most sought after card in the industry right now… Oliver’s 2021 Rookie Card:
Get it now folks… order on eBay, wait in line at Target, or take your chances in a razz. Either way get this kid now, before it’s too late.
Listen here readers (and by readers I mean the mother of my two children). Let me be VERY clear we… are not starting a half birthday tradition. We already have mom’s birthday weekend which has suspiciously transponder into a birthday month. I can’t deal with now having to remember half birthdays and anniversaries and other dates that are all jumbled up into forty something years of celebrating other people’s days.
When your birthday is in January and it’s covid …you get a 1/2 birthday party. He said it was the best birthday ever , spent with his preschool buddies. Today, this amazing, chaotic, handsome, weird, hilarious little guy celebrated 4 1/2! With that being said (and knowing that I’m not in charge around here) Happy Half Birthday to Oliver!!!
Half birthday or no birthday, I watched my little guy play with his friends, they played soccer and basketball. They swam, they played tag and ate cake. He didn’t ask mom or dad to play or push him on the swings… he just played. He laughed and gave hugs to his two amazing teachers who showed up to see their students (which is probably why mom and dad were put on the back burner). I get it, when you’re in pre-school and your teacher shows up to your birthday party you’ve pretty much solidified yourself as the coolest kid in the school!
I’m sure the day will come when his electric smile and HUGE brown eyes won’t want mim and dad to lay with him at night, or read him a bedtime story. I know there will come a time when I won’t be able to lay awake holding him close after he sneaks into our bed (thinking he did it slyly and no one noticed). He’s growing up so fast. Four, four and a half, or five years old… it doesn’t matter… Oliver is growing up way too fast.
Two year ago today Stephanie and I were excited to celebrate with Jackson his Pre-K “graduation”. We were excited, nervous, yet most of all optimistic. Later in the summer we were notified of his kindergarten teacher. We didn’t know much about her, but we hoped for the best.
As an elementary school principal I have high expectations for teachers. One of the most important characteristics of an excellent teacher is the ability to create a learning environment for all, not just for their students, but for the families they serve as well. I firmly believe that the most effective educators are learners at heart and work diligently to create an overall culture of learning.
True teachers believe in everyone, encourage us to reach our highest potential, and convince us that we can do anything we set our minds to. They help foster a love for reading, writing, and learning. They take pride in the little things their students accomplish and the milestones they make. They celebrate student accomplishments and although teachers know they only have their students for a short period of time, they are proud to see them succeed and move on.
The past two school years for our son have been more than that. They have been a time for him to develop into the amazing little boy he is today. A leader, a kind soul, an inquisitive little boy who wants to know more about everything. That is part him and part her. Her being the teacher who has inspired him to ask questions (and to make sure the questions are on topic and relatively appropriate… I know my son and relatively appropriate is pushing it).
Mrs. G you are a saint. You are a true kindhearted and special person. I know my son. He’s not perfect (god knows none of us are), but he tries. He loves you, and I’d like to think that I know positive student/ teacher interaction. You helped support his love for learning, but more importantly his love of “wondering”. You never shut him down. You never made him feel like he was asking too many questions. You helped shape his inquisitive mind, while pushing him to want to know more. That, I will never be able to thank you enough for.
Mrs. G, as an educator I truly believe there is not better compliment you can give another educator than to say you want your children to be in their class… with that being said… do you have any interest in looping to second grade?!??
There’s nothing in the world as a parent that’s worse than waking up in the morning to a list of things that need to happen… Four-year-old’s birthday party… play date at the playground on the other side of town… Or meeting some new people from your child’s class.
Don’t get me wrong, there isn’t a parent we’ve met that I haven’t enjoyed hanging out with. We’ve met some of our best friends through the boys, but at what point do parents of young kids get a break. It never ends. Baseball, soccer, swim lessons… play dates…
First, of all any attempt to label the word play as “session” annoys me. Why is everything timed now a days… “hey boys, your play will commence now. You will have fun for the one hour that has been allotted for this activity.” Why do we need to formalize the word play? A session should be used for scheduled visits with your personal trainer or therapist (although I’m not sure which one I need more after this pandemic shutdown!)
But, I digress… I woke up this morning to this email. (It was the greatest email of my life):
I needed a day of this. Both parents needed a day like this. We just need to normalize not having anything to do.
PS: We I wound up inviting multiple people over to swim in the pool this morning… so much for relaxing!
Imagine this: your dad knows every teacher you have, used to work with them and even evaluate some of them, knows your schedule (because he was on the team that created those schedules and hirings, knows the curriculum like the back of his hand, and know that you’re learning virtually has the ability to walk into your class at any given moment. In other words, your dad is the boss at school and at home.
You think virtualing leaning is tough? Try being the kid of an elementary school principal!
Another year has come and gone, yet this one, this year specifically is like none other that any of us have ever experienced. This year you spent almost all of 12 months in lockdown. The Corona Virus Pandemic and this Quarantine led the way for an unprecedented time for a three year-old to grow up.
However, this day isn’t about viruses, Covid, or vaccinations. It is about you. A little boy who seems to have grown three feet over the past year. While you still might spell your first name with two Ls and forget the numbers 13 and 14 when you count (and maybe say your favorite number is “blue”), you have developed into a voracious reader, who can’t get enough Chica Chica Boom Boom or Paw Patrol.
You have survived as the second child, which has to be so difficult… just ask your uncle Vinny. The thing is, you are forging your own path. You aren’t just a shadow of someone else, you have your own personality. You are hilarious, energetic and so incredibly brave. Braver than I think I could ever be (I’m scared that the bravery is just craziness, but that’s for a different blog entry). You follow your brother’s lead when you want to, but also kick him down the stairs when you want to lead the way.
I watch how others act around you and how they they react to you. Your aura is invigorating. You can turn a lazy, snowy Sunday by the fire into a dance party. You can raise anyone’s spirit, even after the most stressful day… and for that I owe you. You make being a dad so worthwhile. You make being your dad so rewarding… and for that I owe you more than you’ll ever know.
Oliver Peter, keep asking questions and defying the odds, keep trying things that other people don’t think are possible, but most of all… keep being you.
Happy 4th Birthday.
I love you,
“It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.” -Albus Dumbledore
It’s hard enough being an educator during this pandemic… Add in the fact that having your own kids who are in school is beyond anything like we’ve seen before.
I know it because I’m living it in my professional and personal life. If you’re a parent and are looking for somewhere safe loving caring where you can feel comfortable sending your child there’s nowhere better than Oliver’s preschool.
The bond that our boys have is so amazing. And having Mrs. Ta take a few minutes out of her busy day to send us updates about our boys is what it’s all about.
Today we got this message from the owner of Ollie’s daycare: