DadCentric

DadCentric's List Of Least Popular Nicknames For Grandparents

 

Back in my day, everybody called their grandparents "Grandma" and "Grandpa". These days, it seems that kids have come up with all sorts of nicknames for their parents' parents: mine, for instance, refer to my wife's folks as "BeeBee" and "Buddy", and my parents are known as "Bubbe" and "Papa". Not bad, right? Those are tame in comparison to some of the ones I've heard: "MeeMaw", "Yaya", and "Pop Pop" are three that I could never say with a straight face. To be fair, most of the time it's the kids who come up with these names. Our crack staff of research interns scoured the nation to come up with this list of Least Popular Nicknames For Grandparents; when it comes time for you kids to bestow creative monikers on Grandma and Grandpa, keep this handy, to avoid any awkwardness or discomfort. (The complete list is after the jump.)

Trifling

I never thought it would happen to me; but my kids have arrived at that age. 

They used to call it the "Terrible Twos," but I've read a lot of literature (okay, blogs) arguing that three is worse, and four is even...um, more worse.  In any case, my formerly angelic 2.5-year-old twins have crossed the threshold.  They've always had the capacity to be fussy, of course; but now, with their enhanced cognitive and language skills, they can do so with much greater focus and intention.

Some days are better than others; and even on their worst days, I forgive them by the time they've been asleep for a couple of hours.  I even look forward to seeing them conscious the next day.

But some days are pretty bad, and I must say in all fairness, it's their fault, not mine. 

Is There a Right Age to Show Your Children Poverty?

I just opened an email with a subject line of "hola."  It said:

We wish you happy new year love of Christ in the health of my family and we hope soon to Nicaragua...

A few weeks ago, I was invited to fly down to Nicaragua to visit a school some friends' charity has supported for the past five years.  I signed up to see some volcanoes and maybe do some surfing.  Instead, I tied hundreds of bead bracelets around little brown arms and tripped over myself while trying to play soccer.  Mostly, though, I tried to figure out how children living in structures smaller than my garage could be so damned happy.

I also tried to figure out why one of the founders of the charity, Brent, brought his two daughters, ages two and three. When I saw them at the airport in Atlanta, I thought Brent was crazy.  By the time we flew home, I thought he was wise. 

If you live in America at the median income level of just under $50,000/year, you're in the top 1% of the world in terms of income.  Even a four-person family that's "poor" in the United States making $20,000/year is in the top 10% of the world.  But bloggers are way above median levels, which means most of our kids will potentially be spoiled, or if we're not careful, entitled.

How do you curb that effect?

I think they need to see how people in other parts of the world live. 

I'm planning to return to the little school in the mountains of Nicaragua in May 2012 to assist with construction of an additional building, and I've invited my wife and our 16-year-old to come.  But what about the five, three, and one-year-old? 

The child with whom I spent the most time is five.  I'd love for my five-year-old to meet little Jeremy and his family.  However, I want relationships to develop, not for this to be a "let's go somewhere to look at people who are different from us--like at the zoo!" trip.

One reason we haven't gone to Disneyworld is that I'd prefer to do it one time, and for that one time to take place when all the children are old enough to appreciate and remember the experience.  Is charitable travel to economically depressed areas of the world analogous?

I used to think it was, but now I think Brent's right.  Exposing our children to a less affluent part of the world at early ages, so that they grow up knowing not everyone looks like they do and has all the opportunities they do, is better.  Especially if the location is one where a few people can make a difference and improve the lives of the locals while developing relationships with them.  And, I want them to embrace studying other languages.

The email at the beginning of this post is from Jeremy's father, Rafael.  I handed him a business card after I finished the cup of coffee his wife gave me in their den, in case he were to get access to a computer any time soon and wish to stay in touch.  I told him I hope my niños can one day come play with his niños.  But will they?  If so, at what ages? 

Discuss.

New Study: More Men Are Sitting Down To Pee

Hot on the heels of a recent Chicago Tribune article about the rise in the number of male grocery shoppers comes a groundbreaking new study that shows a sharp rise in the number of men who sit down to take a leak. 

Researchers at Johns Hopkins University conducting an extensive nationwide survey of 2,000 men of various ages, asking them if they preferred to stand while urinating. The results were surprising. According to Dr. Juan Hung Lo, 35% of respondants indicated that they willingly sat down on toilets while voiding their bladders. "The numbers have been trending upwards for the past few years, coinciding with the statistical rise of staty-at-home dads. We don't believe this is a coincidence, nor do we believe that it's an indicator of the so-called 'feminization of the American male'. Rather, respondants to a man all answered the question 'why do you choose to sit down to pee' in much the same way: because they don't give a shit about ridiculous reverse gender stereotypes."

DadCentric's 2011 Last Minute Gift Guide For Dads

Let's cut to the chase: 'twas the night before The Night Before Christmas, and you totally borked on getting the dad(s) in your life a present. Not to worry: we got your back. Here's a few last minute gift ideas for you from us.

Jason: I love getting books for Christmas; getting someone a great book is about as thoughtful as you can get, IMHO. Here's a few suggestions.

• Susan Russo's The Encyclopedia of Sandwiches and Recipes Every Man Should Know. Susan Russo is a great food writer (check out her blog here), and these two books compliment each other well. Perfect for the foodie dad, or the wanna-be foodie dad, both are chock full of great recipes and helpful suggestions.

• Neal Pollack's Jewball. Our old friend Neal Pollack boldly decided to self-publish this novel; yes, we're helping a brotha out by promoting his book, but I'd do so regardless, because this tale of Jewish basketball players in the years leading up to World War II is a blast. 

• Brian K. Vaughan and Tony Harris' Ex Machina. This celebrated comic book series is available in trade paperback; I downloaded issue #1 for free over at Comixology and was hooked. The story of an average guy who becomes super-powered (in this case, given the ability to communicate with control any type of machinery with his mind) has been done before, but Vaughn puts a whole new twist on the genre when his protagonist becomes the mayor of New York.

TwoBusy: The single best thing I read this year: Alden Bell's The Reapers Are The Angels, a stunningly beautiful zombie novel. Yes, you read that correctly: beautiful. Think of it as Cormac McCarthy's The Road meets World War Z, filtered through the voice of Flannery O'Connor. The imagery, the lyricism, the characters... plus, y'know, zombies. I read several remarkable novels this year - including John Hart's The Last Childand Emma Donoghue's Room, which were both outstanding - but The Reapers completely blew my socks off. Absolutely worth seeking out. 

The single best thing I heard this year: the self-titled debut by Winged Victory for The Sullen, in a narrow win over the veryveryvery different The Big Roar by The Joy Formidable. Winged Victory is the kind of thing I simply don't have the musical vocabulary to adequately describe: it's a series of neo-classical collaborations between composer Dustin O'Halloran and Stars of the Lids' Adam Wiltzie that manage to be so wordlessly powerful and deeply emotional that it's almost impossible to listen to the album without feeling like the world around you has slowed and changed into the saddest, most haunting film you've ever seen. A truly gorgeous piece of work.

The Holmes: Does Dad love beer? Does he have a bit of the DIY spirit about him? Perhaps he'd like to try his hand at brewing up his own beer. Get him stared with The Complete Joy of Homebrewing. Or maybe Dad likes shiny things that go zoom through the air. RC helicopters are crazy-cheap these days. Or does Dad get bored sitting in a cube all day? Bring a little excitement to his workday with some weapons of siege warfare.

Kevin: Combine Dad's love of Star Wars and cocktails with the Han Solo in Carbonite Silicon Ice Tray. It's perfect for sucking back icy whiskeys while watching the 47th re-re-remastering of The Saga and bitching about how George Lucas has yet again played you for a sucker.

The Joys Of Dadblogging

 Last week my son got home from school and told me he had a project he needed to work on.

It was to create a timeline of his life.

But you couldn't include things like "my little brother was born" or "started elementary school." The key points on the timeline had to be specific to him. We sat around trying to think of some stuff when it occurred to me to turn to the computer.

This January I will celebrate seven years as a dad blogger, so it made perfect sense to consult my blog.

We found a big gap between his birth and age 4, but once we got to him to that age the timeline was rife with fodder for entries.

There was the time he got his first black eye and the time he broke his collarbone (4 clearly was an eventful year). He looked at me and said, "I don't want it to all be bad stuff, Dad." So we began searching my blog for the good times.

We discovered gems like his first soccer game just before he turned five as well as the time he caught the mighty conch at the beach when he was six.

The memories made me giddy.

For years I always questioned why I blogged. It's not like I have a shit ton of fans, nor do I make any money off of it. And it took me probably a year or more before I even outed myself as a dad blogger. I came to the conclusion years ago that the primary reason I blogged was for myself. It's that simple. It's a journal of my life and I never really cared if any one ever read it. As my boys started to age, there was more and more to add yet less and less time to write about their accomplishments, their personal highs and lows.

But being able to look back on their lives like this gave me a feeling of euphoria. It made me realize that it's not about a fan base or income generated but about the preservation of my family through words and photos.

A 21st Century virtual scrapbook.

Looking back through my archives also gave me a renewed interest in the world of blogging. Even more so now, post-burglary, where I suddenly had a laptop stolen with almost a decade's worth of kid photos on it. 

What else could we uncover on my blog?

Well, seven was a good year as he learned to ollie on his skateboard and started his own punk rock band with his little brother. He also played his first and only season of football in the year of seven-going-on-eight.

Age nine, as you can see by his timeline, was apparently the age he learned to "chill" and at ten his budding rap career both started and ended. 

He's currently eleven-years-old.

And I need to get back to blogging...

 

 

Why I Lie To My Kids About Santa

"Dad, do you believe in Santa?" They're both old enough to ask this now, past that age where they just assume everything, and start to question the things we tell them. The Age Of Why. 

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If you didn't think about the reason for it, the sight was impressive: a police helicopter, hovering in the canyon behind my house, rotor blades whirring below rooftop level, just hanging there. It would move a few yards every few minutes. They were looking for someone, and the initial thought was that this was a rescue mission - maybe someone had wandered off the trail and tripped over a hidden rock and sprained an ankle, or perhaps one of the neighborhood kids had gone on a bike ride and had taken a tumble. But no. Below, the police cars sat in the small trailhead parking lot, a few officers milling about. There were no lights, no sirens, no real sense of urgency. Later, I'd see the news: a woman who lived in the townhouses just down the street had gone missing on Thanksgiving morning. Foul play was suspected, and later confirmed: Kathleen Cary Scharbarth had been murdered by her ex-boyfriend, in her home, which is a five minute walk from ours. Lucas had seen the helicopter as well. He asked why it was flying around our house. I told him that sometimes the police practice looking for people who may have gotten lost. 

Gene Marks, The "If I Were A Poor Black Kid" Guy, To Write Advice Book For Dads

Forbes contributor Gene Marks has certainly stirred up some controversy. First, there was this post, Why Most Women Will Never Become CEO, in which Marks states that women will never become CEO because they're women. Then, Marks penned a post entitled If I Were A Poor Black Kid, in which he offers suggestions to poverty-stricken urban black kids based on his experiences as a middle-class white small business owner/columnist for magazine read by rich white guys, because really, one's pretty much the same as the other. Some of the pearls of wisdom Marks offers:

• "If I were a poor black kid...I'd become an expert at Google Scholar."
• "(If I were a poor black kid) I'd use Skype to study with other students who want to do well in my school."
• "If I were a poor black kid I would make it my goal to get into one of these (magnet) schools. Or even a private school."
• "If I were a poor black kid...I would learn how to write code."

See, Poor Black Kids? It's TOTALLY easy to escape soul-crushing poverty, rise above our failing public school system, and steer clear of a judicial system that tends to drop the hammer on young black men. Just get into a private school and learn how to write code! Like Theo from Die Hard did!

Now, word comes that Marks will be releasing a handbook for new dads.* The working title is If I Were A New Dad. We've gotten our hands on the manuscript, and here are a few choice bits of advice from Mr. Marks:

Christmas Trees Are Stupid, But I'll Probably Have to Get One Anyway

You know how much a real Christmas tree costs in San Diego?  I didn't know, because I've never bought one in the eight years that we've been here.  So I had to do some research.

Based on the 3 minutes I spent Googling "Christmas tree San Diego," I discovered that a 6-7 foot Noble Fir is going to run at least a hundred dollars from a local dealer.  You can order a similar one for $109.00 from Costco.  It comes in a box.

The fuck?

I'm supposed to drop a c-note on a dead plant that I'll toss in a couple weeks?  I've got all of them I need right here in my house and front yard.  I'll just hang some strings of popcorn and cranberries and call it Yuletide.

A Gallery Of Disturbing Christmas Tree Ornaments

This Saturday was Tree Decorating Day, so the whole family went to our local Target to pick up some ornaments. We told the kids that they could each pick out a special ornament to hang on the tree. I picked this one for myself:

Lucas picked a motorcycle, and Zoe picked a Christmas-attired Winnie The Pooh, and...wait. You're bothered by the Beer Ornament, I see. Well, if you think that's bad, wait until you see what's after the jump. I had to take some pictures. Because ho ho holy shit, they're just awful.