An exciting month, of sorts.

This month has been by far one of the most hectic months of my life.

It started like any other month, and since it was a May, hope that summer was soon to arrive.

That all changed with a little pipe. We had a pipe burst in our house and flood much of our downstairs. Thankfully, since our home was under warranty, we were able to get the repairs done at no cost to house, but then came the saga of the carpet. The carpet in our living room area got quite wet. We got a ShopVac and drew out much of the water, but it didn’t matter since the underlay got so wet. After watching our niece and nephew at their First Communion, we came back home and pulled up the underlay ourselves and laid down new carpet padding.

But in the following days, it looked like the damage had been done, our carpet was too wet to salvage, and it started to smell mildewy. So we made the decision to get new carpet. Thankfully, the great people at Rite Rug were able to get our brand new carpet installed quickly, and now we’re enjoying some brand new carpet downstairs.

But man, it was just so hectic. But, it’s sparked me to get some housework that I’d been putting off done. It seems better to at least control the things I can control, rather than worrying about the things I really have no control over, like a pipe burst.

I had to call my mom, though. Because even in times of overwhelming stress, it still makes me feel good to remember that I’m someone else’s son. That I’m still someone else’s responsibility. And it’s something I hope Parker sees too, that no matter how stressful life can be, or how much responsibility you have to take on, you’ll always be your parents’ child.

I got out today and did some further housework, and it feels good just to sit down and feel a bit accomplished.

Next week is Memorial Day with my family, followed by the LSAC meeting in Hollywood with my friends and colleagues. I’d love for this summer just to be relaxing.

I can hope, can’t I?

How my son will never know bin Laden

An adolescence and early adulthood filled with a war on terror.

For millennials, Osama bin Laden defined a decade of their formative years. He was quite literally the face of terrorism. 9/11 is our “remember when” moment. Many of us were in high school or college on that dark day in September and remember vividly when the attacks were tied to bin Laden. And we’ll likely remember where we were when we heard, ten years later, that bin Laden had been killed.

But to my son, bin Laden will be a figure in an historical book. 9/11 will be like our JFK. bin Laden’s death will be a Challenger explosion, here when it happened, but with no memory of it.

Video footage will be available, but he won’t ever know what it “felt” like. How will our children read about this, how will they understand what happened?

Then there’s an older generation of kids that are of age now, but not for 9/11. Today’s 9 and 10 year olds who are asking their parents who bin Laden was and why many are celebrating his death.

But how do we explain this last decade to our children? How do we even explain who we’re ultimately fighting now? And how do we try and explain to our children how this was worth it? When our children are still burdened with our massive debt and deficits, and they see the war on terror as a line item on that receipt, will they think the death of one man was worth it?

I’m watching CNN, my son is sitting on the floor playing with toy cars. A moment he’ll never remember. But one I certainly will.

Can Little Boys Wear Nail Polish?

Foxnews.com the other day posted what may be the most ignorant article I’ve ever read, an article written by “psychologist” Keith Ablow. The article was lambasting J. Crew’s decision to run an advertisement with J. Crew’s president painting her son’s toenails pink. The reaction was an ensuing debate on our kids’ so-called ‘gender identity’.

Gender identity and stereotypes, first and foremost, are social and cultural constructs. Girls aren’t born with the innate sense to want to paint their toenails, toenail painting is largely reserved for females because society deems toenail painting a female trait. Simple as that.

Throughout history, men and women have had a certain set of roles to play. What many of the critics of the J. Crew ad fail to realize is that gender roles change with history. Men and women of ancient China and Egypt painted their nails, as doing so was a sign of social status. Little boys up into the mid 19th century regularly wore dresses, and before the World Wars, the color pink was considered the domain of boys, not girls.

A recent debate ensued on Facebook about if painting toenails (and an ad showing a boy getting his toenails painted) is part of a rise in effeminacy amongst males in our society. For some, it would seem that crossing gender lines leads to effeminacy leads to homosexuality (I know, right? The horror that your son might “become” gay!  /end sarcasm).

But again, the fact is that effeminacy is only dictated by the society in which it exists. Some may use a Biblical argument, that the Bible has laws against effeminacy. Look no further than Deuteronomy 22:5:

A woman must not wear men’s clothing, nor a man wear women’s clothing, for the LORD your God detests anyone who does this.

But what is “men’s clothing”? Women didn’t wear trousers until the mid 19th century and even then, it didn’t become common in the United States until after World War II. See where I’m going? Even a Biblical argument is flawed. Of course, it makes more sense when you eventually come to realize–even if you’re a Christian–that the Bible is constrained by the social, historical, and literary contexts of its time, but that’s another discussion.

The fact is, effeminacy 1) is shaped by the society in which it exists and 2) isn’t that big of a deal anyway.

If Parker wants to paint his toenails, I have no problem with that. His painting his toenails is not against the law, or dangerous, or detrimental to his well-being. I would rather my son be happy with painted toenails, than discouraged because his parents told him he couldn’t paint his toenails because it would lead him down the path to destruction.

I’ve said it before, but my son’s sexuality and gender identity is pretty low on the “things I ultimately care about” list. First and foremost, I want my son to lead a happy, healthy, and productive  life. Secondly, I want him to have parents that always support him. And three, I don’t believe that painting your toenails leads to effeminacy, and even if it does, I don’t believe effeminacy prevents one from leading a healthy, emotionally well life. I’ll wear nail polish with sandals if you want me to, I don’t care.

Parker loves Abby from Sesame Street. He sleeps with an Abby doll at bedtime. I’m not going to discourage him from liking what he likes, or redirect his attention to more “male” characters because that’s what a little boy “should” like.

Love your kids and love them for being them.

Life becomes busy again

Winter, for all that we complain about the weather, tends to be our “downtime” in our family. As it seems from spring through fall, we’re pretty constantly on the go.

April, for us, marks the beginning of busy season again. But at the same time, it’s great for us. It gets us out of the house into the sunshine again, we don’t feel like a bunch of caged animals all the time.

I, for one, am pining to be able to write these blogs outside, in the sunroom, on a warm spring or summer evening, while Parker enjoys being in his backyard again.

Around this time last year, we had just gone under contract for our house, and a year later, I’m sitting in it. I’m excited to actually enjoy a spring in it (since we didn’t move in last year until almost summer).

But life will be busy again. Weekends jammed with going to the zoo, or doing housework, or visiting our families. Vacations are again to be had. But it’s a wonderful time of year for our family, especially as Parker gets older and more and more gets to enjoy the life that he lives.

It’s fortunate what we have. Our friend just had two of her friends lose everything in an apartment fire, and my heart just feels so sad for them. It’s unfortunate that sometimes it takes times like that to realize what you have. We’re going through some of our clothes tonight so that she can give them some things of ours.

But you think about this and many people go through this every day. How fortunate I am to be writing this blog, sitting on my new netbook, in the living room of the house I own. Life is too easy to take for granted, when you can literally lose everything in the blink of an eye.

This weekend, we’re going to our friend’s coming home party. He and his brother just served nearly a year in Afghanistan as Marines. Giving up everything they had, running the risk of losing their lives, to help others. It only seems fitting to be thankful for what we have.

This post has been more rambling than anything, but I guess the point is, be thankful for being busy. Even though it may drive you crazy or stress you out, be thankful you have the ability to enjoy your life.

Sentences

‘Arker? Nap…yesh.

That was one of the ‘sentences’ that Parker spouted off the other day when it was time for a nap. Sentences in the toddler would generally aren’t well structured or grammatically correct, but it’s more the ability to string together multiple thoughts at a single time, generally applying a verb to a noun or answering their own question.

It’s hard to believe how well he has started communicating with us. We actually have legitimate back-and-forths now (usually him simply telling us ‘no’ to something we ask, but that’s okay). He’s also started following verbal directions more. As I typed this, I yelled into the living room for Parker to come give me a kiss, and in he came and a kiss I got. He’s also starting to pick up on cues based on a situation he might be in. In church, he knows he can’t yell, and if he thinks what he just did was too loud for church, he’ll say “shhhhh”.

He likes to help out around the house now, pre-empting what he does with a “thank you”. For instance, he’ll hand us a dish from the dishwasher and say “thank you” as he hands it to us. He helps pick up toys, he’ll close the door for us.

You think a kid can’t change much more than from birth to age 1, but I’d say age 1 to age 2 gives it a run for its money. While most of the change that occurs in the first year is mostly physical, it seems the second year is mostly emotional and mental. You think of the milestones in the first year: holding their head up, rolling over, crawling, cruising, walking, and then the second year: words, puzzles, sentences, identification of objects.

And of course, for me, the understanding of his language. Of course his words aren’t completely clear yet, so translating becomes a big part of what I do, but on the bright side, he’s willing to keep saying what he wants to say until you understand.

This year has been a lot of fun, and next month, we’ll be halfway through the second year, on the downhill to age 2. What more can he learn in just four months?

We’re a Google Hit

If you google “millennial parenting”, I’m happy to see that this blog is the top result, and actually occupies a couple spaces in the top 30 search results, similarly with Bing.

I have to say though, it seems to be a spartan group out there. In fact, I haven’t seen any other millennial parenting blogs. My goal over the next few days is to find them and link up with them. I know they’re out there in the interwebz!

Growing up

/PrepareForDeepThoughts

I’ve spent the last few days just ruminating on my life and came to the conclusion I’ve learned more about life these past two years than the previous 23.

Becoming a dad, being a husband that is also a dad…you grow up quick when these become part of who you are.

If you aren’t a parent, you probably will roll your eyes at how many times you’ve heard this statement, but being a parent is the greatest thing you can ever do. Being “addy” puts me on top of the world. I’ve accomplished everything I have to do in life by being Dad to the most incredible person in the world. My heart pounds out of my chest for Parker.

On the same hand, my wife and I married “young”. I had just turned 22, and she was 21. She still had two years of college left and I was holding down a job that barely paid the bills at the time. In a way, we were still just two college students. Flash forward to now and we’re parents that hold down full-time careers. She and I have done a lot of growing up together as well. I think she would agree that right now, our marriage is finally what a marriage should be. It’s one thing to have a spouse that is the mother/father of your child, it’s a whole other thing to finally connect with each other as parents.

But back to my original point, that I’ve learned more about life in these past two years than I had in my entire life before. I don’t feel like I ever understood unconditional, undying love until Parker. Don’t get me wrong, my wife and I love each other, we’re best friends and everything to one another, and our love is only enhanced because we had Parker together. But the love that I have for Parker exceeds what would be considered normal for any person. To look into the eyes of someone that you had a role in creating? Wow. A person that is literally half you.

I remember when Parker was first born, I cried. Not even because of happiness, but because it finally hit me that what my wife was holding was my flesh and blood. To have a child is to learn how it feels to laugh. Parker is the funniest person I’ve ever met in my life. And I can’t help but laugh to myself when he does something that might drive me crazy if someone else did it (my wife and I will constantly insist that he is “your son”).

But I’m Dad (well, “Addy”). And there’s nothing else I can do in life that will live up to that name. What life was I living before Parker? And how did I live this long without him?

In any case, I’m thrilled for us. Our little family could not be better right now. And it’s a great feeling.

/endDeepThoughts

Finding a hobby

As a twentysomething parent, I find it difficult to invest a lot in a hobby.

Sure, I like to read and be on the computer, blogging is enjoyable. But those are more just activities I do, not hobbies I want to experience and grow.

I’ve written a number of posts about beer. My experience with beer started after I turned 21 (yes, I did not drink for the first time until I was 21). Obviously the first beers I was introduced to were American adjunct lagers such as Budweiser, Coors, etc. I didn’t really have the taste for beer then, but like so many others before me, it became and acquired taste. I drank the AALs because they were readily available, cheap, and it’s what everyone else drank in college.

In the following year, I was introduced to what people called “dark beers”–i.e. a rudimentary way of describing any beer darker than the pale lagerness of America’s adjunct lagers and pilsners. Even so, these beers were still brewed by America’s macrobrewies. Beers like Killian’s (brewed by Coors) and Amber Bock (brewed by Anheuser Busch’s Michelob brand) became standard to me, I enjoyed what I consider to be “full” beers, with malt profiles that resembled caramel and chocolate rather than corn and rice.

In the fall of 2007, I was introduced to Samuel Adams Winter Lager and a love affair with craft beer began. It was a process that grew very slowly for me. I didn’t depart from Sam Adams often, perhaps here and there to Saranac, Newcastle,  or Guinness. I went to BeerAdvocate for the first time back in early 2009 and didn’t think too much of it. I went to the Top Beers and saw the names of 100 beers I’d never heard of in my life, so with Sam Adams and some other regional beers I stuck, even venturing back to the world of Coors or A-B here and there for a Blue Moon or another Killians.

But last fall, I decided to “up the ante” so to say. On a trip to Michigan, I decided to try some beers I’d never had before and were on that top 100 list. Two I tried were Founders Breakfast Stout and Bell’s Two Hearted Ale, and I was hooked. I started searching out other craft beers at the supermarket, and then expanded to small carryouts or stores that specialized in craft beer. As 2011 began, I decided that I would pursue craft beer with more vigor, actively searching for new beers, the best beers.

To many, it would seem, a vice is a weird hobby. Perhaps on par with gambling as a hobby or something. But beer, for me, has not been like that since I got into craft. Craft beer is about quality, instead of volume. It’s about pushing the boundaries of what is beer, using fresh and quality ingredients, while also trying to make a beer that is unique and delicious. It’s less “mass-oriented” and more catered to the individual drinker. Craft beer isn’t about using the drink to become intoxicated, it’s about enjoy a beverage that isn’t easily duplicated. As I’ve learned, in any single sitting, two beers is my limit.

But isn’t craft beer as a hobby expensive? Not at all. Sure, craft is easily more expensive than a sixer of Bud Light, and you’re surely not going to find a 30-pack of Founders for $15. But volume isn’t the goal, craft beer can be fully enjoyed on a macrobeer budget.

Craft beer as a hobby may certainly sound odd, but it’s not that different from wine tasting, or being a foodie, or even collecting stamps. It’s growing in popularity and changing daily as brewers perfect the beers they’ve been brewing for decades but also challenge themselves and each other to make the next great beer, the one that gets hyped for weeks before the release and is nearly impossible to find on store shelves. It’s a hobby which I’m glad to have taken up.

Less than perfect? Well yeah…

I was making the rounds this afternoon on the news websites and came across this article on CNN.com and wanted to share my thoughts.

Sharing the achievements of our children is commonplace, just as it has always been, amongst parents. Today, with the advent of social networking like message boards, Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter, it’s easier than ever to share with the world the latest achievement that the little one has accomplished. Have I done my share of bragging? Of course. But that’s because my kid, in my opinion, is the most amazing little kid in the world.

But if you’re a parent, you already know that parenting isn’t perfect. Of course there are times when Parker drives me absolutely bananas. I try to keep him from standing on the couch or hitting the dogs almost daily. We’re struggling with eating right now, as Parker is so independent with eating that he won’t actually let us try and feed him. It’s a learning process, and half the time ends with me wanting to slam my head into a wall.

I’ve changed my share of absolutely disgusting diapers. I’ve seen the worst this kid has to offer. And of course that’s part of parenting. Parenting isn’t about perfection, and I don’t presume that any parent that talks or brags about their child is saying that everything is perfect.

I understand the point of the blog–that we as parents don’t often show the “non-glamorous” of parenting–but I also think we run the danger of not sharing things about our children for fear of being labeled a braggart or a “perfect parent”. I’ll admit freely that everything I do isn’t correct. I’m sure I do things as a parent that others would frown upon, and I could share some stories that I’m sure would make a non-parent never want to have children.

But I don’t really remember those things. Changing a diaper is part of the job. But I’ll remember when my son took his first steps. I’ll video him saying his alphabet at 16 months old. I won’t take video of him throwing a temper tantrum or take pictures of his post-nap diapers.

I guess my point is, be proud of your kids. It’s okay to be thrilled when they take their first steps. It’s okay to post a Facebook status about the amazing thing they just did. I’ll continue to talk about the amazing things my son does because they truly do amaze me.

But until he does that next thing, I need to go keep him from standing on the couch.

Loving Abby

Parker loves Abby Cadabby.

I mean, he really, really loves Abby. He used to be big on Elmo, but that’s before Abby came along. He loves watching Abby on Sesame Street, has a stuffed Abby Cadabby he sleeps with, and now, has his own Abby Cadabby shirt:

We’ve been looking for an Abby shirt for a while and have no objections to having Parker wearing pink, but it seems like any Abby shirt is cut for a little girl, with really short sleeves or something like that. But our friend and babysitter was able to find this more “unisex” version of an Abby shirt.

It was so cute seeing him wear it. He loved it. He’d look down at his shirt and point and say, “Abby!” In a way, it’s unfortunate that Sesame Street doesn’t make Abby more of an “available” character for boys. I understand why Abby was introduced to Sesame Street, because up until that point, Sesame Street really didn’t have a “girly-girl” character on the show, and Abby, with her dresses, sparkles, and attitude was supposed to appeal to little girls as a character to whom they could connect.

But enter little boys like Parker who really, really love Abby, just as much as a little girl would. But today, he was finally able to wear something that would allow him to show off his love for Abby.