These are the things I learned this week off from blogging:
- My mother and step-father love my son, to the point that they actively want to hold him even when he projectile poops all over them.
- Breast milk does not taste good.
- My dog loves me, The Wife and our son but he loves pooping on the floor more.
- Scarlett Johansson's boobs and butt are not enough to make He's Just Not That Into You worth your time. Although it will reconfirm your belief that all women in movies are nuts.
- Churches have yet to figure out that if you turn your air conditioner on in the summer, more people will come.
- There's not enough pleading, begging, crying, wailing or gnashing of teeth in the world to make a baby stop crying; however letting him sleep on your chest is a miracle cure.
- Turner & Hooch is just as funny today as it was 20 years ago when it came out.
- The only thing that comes close on the pain scale to being racked in the nads for a guy is having the hair right around your nipple ripped out by your 9-week old son.
- I felt old after learning that it's been 20-freaking years since Tom Hanks made every parent in America hate him because he made every kid in America want a dog that looked like it swallowed a tennis shoe.
Showing posts with label raising children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label raising children. Show all posts
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Wants...
Some things I want for, and to do with, my son:
- I want him to enjoy reading as much, or more, than I do.
- I want him to love his country as much as I do.
- I want him to love the absolute joy of watching Rocky, and know that while all the Rocky movies are great, Rocky V never happened.
- I want to watch all the Star Trek movies with him, and for him to see the awesomeness of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, the utter stupidity of Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, the coolness of Star Trek: First Contact, and the genius that is J.J. Abrams's Star Trek.
- I want him to love sports for the right reasons like the feeling I got watching Ole Miss beat Florida live, and even the gut-wrenching sadness of something like "The Fumble."
- I want him to appreciate history, and how it is can be a roadmap for the life laid out before him.
- I want to watch all six Star Wars movies with my son, but exactly how they came out: 4, 5, 6, 1, 2, 3.
- I want him to understand what it feels like to not start for a team, and to know what it takes to get on the starting team.
- I want him to see one of his teams win a championship. I hope it's also one of my teams.
- I want him to learn how to put a worm on a hook, and take a fish off a hook.
- I want him to know how to tie a tie, change a tire, check the oil, and be the friend that will be the DD on occasion when he gets older.
- I want my son to love to learn, just like I do.
- Mostly I want my son to know he is loved.
- I want him to enjoy reading as much, or more, than I do.
- I want him to love his country as much as I do.
- I want him to love the absolute joy of watching Rocky, and know that while all the Rocky movies are great, Rocky V never happened.
- I want to watch all the Star Trek movies with him, and for him to see the awesomeness of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, the utter stupidity of Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, the coolness of Star Trek: First Contact, and the genius that is J.J. Abrams's Star Trek.
- I want him to love sports for the right reasons like the feeling I got watching Ole Miss beat Florida live, and even the gut-wrenching sadness of something like "The Fumble."
- I want him to appreciate history, and how it is can be a roadmap for the life laid out before him.
- I want to watch all six Star Wars movies with my son, but exactly how they came out: 4, 5, 6, 1, 2, 3.
- I want him to understand what it feels like to not start for a team, and to know what it takes to get on the starting team.
- I want him to see one of his teams win a championship. I hope it's also one of my teams.
- I want him to learn how to put a worm on a hook, and take a fish off a hook.
- I want him to know how to tie a tie, change a tire, check the oil, and be the friend that will be the DD on occasion when he gets older.
- I want my son to love to learn, just like I do.
- Mostly I want my son to know he is loved.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
My Kid is Better Than Your Kid
Sometimes, a kid is just a kid.
Sports Illustrated is going for broke with its latest cover, proclaiming 16-year old Bryce Harper the greatest baseball player of all time. Practically anyway. They are talking about him hitting 570-foot home runs, throwing 96-mile per hour fastballs, and being fast enough to score on a wild pitch from second base. All those feats are impressive, but, Bryce is 16 freaking years old!
This of course brings up a discussion that as dads we avoid like the plague. Sure, we all have stories of runaway parents at our Little League games. Like the dad who threatened to slash the umpire's tires after calling his kid out at the plate. Or the dad who spent the entire third, fourth, fifth, and sixth inning of a game cussing, muttering and berating his kid for a called taking strike three with the bases loaded in the second. Or the dad who pushed his own son's coach because the poor guy took the dad's son out of the game.
All those stories are true, and from my one summer umpiring 9- and 10-year old baseball. No, I didn't get my tires slashed. But I did get cussed at more that summer than during Basic Training in the military. At least at Basic I knew the Drill Instructor was cussing me for my benefit. All the dads that summer, and every dad who has crossed the line during his kid's game, did was embarrass himself and his family. It is a kids league, guys, with kids playing. No money is at stake, and the trophy is made of plastic. Should there be a winner and a league champ? Absolutely, because that teaches kids that there is a reward for success. But should the way we act also teach our kids something? You're darn right.
Which brings us back to Bryce Harper. SI is doing what too many dads do. J.D. McCoy's dad did it on this past season of "Friday Night Lights." Because we dads couldn't make it as pro sports stars, we try to force our sons and daughters to do it for us. And we forget that our first job is to raise our children in love. That means letting them decide how much they want to pursue sports, or music, or theater, or basket weaving if that's what they want to do. It also means not putting undue pressure on them to succeed.
SI should be ashamed for putting this much on a 16-year old's shoulders. Will he be the next Babe Ruth? I have no clue. How's about we give him time to figure that one out for himself?
Sports Illustrated is going for broke with its latest cover, proclaiming 16-year old Bryce Harper the greatest baseball player of all time. Practically anyway. They are talking about him hitting 570-foot home runs, throwing 96-mile per hour fastballs, and being fast enough to score on a wild pitch from second base. All those feats are impressive, but, Bryce is 16 freaking years old!
This of course brings up a discussion that as dads we avoid like the plague. Sure, we all have stories of runaway parents at our Little League games. Like the dad who threatened to slash the umpire's tires after calling his kid out at the plate. Or the dad who spent the entire third, fourth, fifth, and sixth inning of a game cussing, muttering and berating his kid for a called taking strike three with the bases loaded in the second. Or the dad who pushed his own son's coach because the poor guy took the dad's son out of the game.
All those stories are true, and from my one summer umpiring 9- and 10-year old baseball. No, I didn't get my tires slashed. But I did get cussed at more that summer than during Basic Training in the military. At least at Basic I knew the Drill Instructor was cussing me for my benefit. All the dads that summer, and every dad who has crossed the line during his kid's game, did was embarrass himself and his family. It is a kids league, guys, with kids playing. No money is at stake, and the trophy is made of plastic. Should there be a winner and a league champ? Absolutely, because that teaches kids that there is a reward for success. But should the way we act also teach our kids something? You're darn right.
Which brings us back to Bryce Harper. SI is doing what too many dads do. J.D. McCoy's dad did it on this past season of "Friday Night Lights." Because we dads couldn't make it as pro sports stars, we try to force our sons and daughters to do it for us. And we forget that our first job is to raise our children in love. That means letting them decide how much they want to pursue sports, or music, or theater, or basket weaving if that's what they want to do. It also means not putting undue pressure on them to succeed.
SI should be ashamed for putting this much on a 16-year old's shoulders. Will he be the next Babe Ruth? I have no clue. How's about we give him time to figure that one out for himself?
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Raising a Culture of Wimps
Our babies are growing up in a world where they'll be forced to apologize for anything and everything they do. And let me be bluntly honest here, most of the stuff they'll have to apologize for will be absolutely correct!
In the last decade there's been a rash of political correctness that's forced untold numbers of people in the public eye to apologize for stuff they said or did. Examples include, but aren't limited to Clay Aiken expressing his opinion on "American Idol" finalist Adam Lambert, David Feherty after his joke about Senator Harry Reid and Representative Nancy Pelosi, and even a zoo in London after a gorilla farted in front of patrons. This has got to stop, for our babies' sake.
First off, David Feherty's joke was absolutely on point, because it expressed the opinion of many US service members (and yes I used to be one, and since I have friends still in uniform, I think I'm authority enough to speak on it). Are we not allowed to have opinions anymore? Clay Aiken, who I'm not a big fan of, did the same thing. He gave the readers of his blog his opinion of Adam's singing. Apparently we are not on notice that having an opinion that is not popular in the media can get you in trouble. Are we living in 1984 and no one told me?
Opinions are not facts, but if your opinion is backed up with facts, then it is a valid one. I'm teaching my son that as soon as he can learn it. And if you opinion isn't popular, but you have facts to back it up, hold fast to it. That is the measure of character.
Oh, and if you need to let a fart out in a zoo, LET. IT. GO! They happen, people. Get over it.
In the last decade there's been a rash of political correctness that's forced untold numbers of people in the public eye to apologize for stuff they said or did. Examples include, but aren't limited to Clay Aiken expressing his opinion on "American Idol" finalist Adam Lambert, David Feherty after his joke about Senator Harry Reid and Representative Nancy Pelosi, and even a zoo in London after a gorilla farted in front of patrons. This has got to stop, for our babies' sake.
First off, David Feherty's joke was absolutely on point, because it expressed the opinion of many US service members (and yes I used to be one, and since I have friends still in uniform, I think I'm authority enough to speak on it). Are we not allowed to have opinions anymore? Clay Aiken, who I'm not a big fan of, did the same thing. He gave the readers of his blog his opinion of Adam's singing. Apparently we are not on notice that having an opinion that is not popular in the media can get you in trouble. Are we living in 1984 and no one told me?
Opinions are not facts, but if your opinion is backed up with facts, then it is a valid one. I'm teaching my son that as soon as he can learn it. And if you opinion isn't popular, but you have facts to back it up, hold fast to it. That is the measure of character.
Oh, and if you need to let a fart out in a zoo, LET. IT. GO! They happen, people. Get over it.
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