Is Singing to Your Children Really the Responsible Thing For ALL Parents? I’m not sure I’ve ever felt as helpless as holding my son the first time. That was two years ago now, but I remember that moment like it was yesterday. There was so much joy, and due to the circumstances we were just thrilled he was here. But as with all newborns there was crying. Lots of crying. That cry was instinctive. The smile was learned. I knew that babies like to be sung to. I knew that the sound of a human singing somehow soothes these crying fits. And with some humans, I can certainly understand how that might work. When it comes to singing, I’m not one of the chosen – I am a parent who can’t sing. There are few sounds in the world more obnoxious than the sound of my singing voice, and that took a long time for me to get over as I began singing to Jamie. Stemware in China cabinets everywhere is at risk when I attempt to carry a note. But when a baby or toddler cries you REALLY REALLY want to make them stop. At all costs. You want to somehow bring comfort to a human who sounds like he is going through something more torturous than water boarding or watching Chicago Cubs baseball. In order to do this, you need to get over the sound of your own voice, and you need to find something to sing. As I was holding Jamie in those first few moments it occurred I didn’t know any lullabies. I hadn’t really learned anything appropriate to sing. Well, there was one thing I could think of. Meg and I are both fans of the show Big Bang Theory. For those unfamiliar, the character Sheldon – a notable physicist – loves for his friends to sing him a song called “Soft Kitty” when he is sick. The song sticks in your head like an ear worm. So in the moment I began singing it to my son. It seemed a little strange, but it got him to stop crying, at least momentarily. Mission accomplished. I know more lullabies now. We still sing with Jamie, and I’ve largely learned to overlook the wretched sound of my own singing voice for the greater good. Jamie somehow seems happy in these moments. Jamie is probably ahead of the curve for a 2-year-old piecing the world together, and I’m not just saying that as a proud parent. But the fact he finds his father’s singing pleasurable may be a strike against him in this category. We continue to learn and teach him more songs. We sang him “Soft Kitty” for a long...

I used to view the phrase “acting like a toddler” as fairly innocuous. Then I became a parent, which provided fresh perspective. Acting like a toddler means that you are acting like you have a free pass at life. It means that you don’t care about ANYBODY or what they might think. Some people might call this a healthy perspective, but I am here to remind you that there are rules in place for a reason — because adults aren’t half as charming as the little people who act this way on a regular basis. When toddlers act this way we can say “Awww,” and move along. When adults act this way, the rest of the world wants to collectively punch them in the face. Next time you see a child crying uncontrollably in the grocery store because his mother bought the wrong type of macaroni and cheese, mentally age this person by 30 years and picture them acting this way in front of their significant other. I wonder how long that marriage would last? Think about how different the world would look if we allowed adults to act like they had a free pass at life. No rules, no boundaries, and pure joy. But alas, we have significant others, bosses and friends to keep our basest behaviors in check. It may not feel like it at the time, but they are really doing you a favor. Without any rules or boundaries my day might look like this: When Meg and I are having a conversation about dinner and she says “Do you want tacos?” I could shake my head violently and say “No, this??!!!” I would do this while pointing at nothing in particular. I would then expect her to read my mind and know exactly what I’m talking about. I work at a computer all day. This has been shown to lead to an unhealthy lifestyle, unless you can break it up with small exercises throughout the day. I could get up from my desk at work and run across the room while yelling loudly until I hit the other side. Never mind my coworkers. Next time I’m somewhere in public, like the doctor’s office, I could stand up, straighten my limbs, and rhythmically shake my butt, while smiling widely the whole time. Generous people would call this dancing. When the song ends I would then run up to the receptionist and say “Again? Again? Again?” I could go out for dinner in a fancy restaurant and order the ribs, while leaving my napkin unused, right there on the table. I might say the word “messy” but it would be in a way that makes it clear that I really don’t care. Instead of using the napkin I...

Earlier this week I told my son that a giant bunny entered our house in the middle of the night for the purpose of leaving him candy and toys. Jamie seemed oddly comfortable with this, mainly because of the candy and toys, I’m guessing. To be honest, I’m not sure how much of it he truly understood—he’s 2. I had a more difficult time explaining the Easter bunny to him than I expected. He’s been through two Christmases, but hasn’t quite understand holiday tradition or concepts yet. He is definitely more impressionable every day and that probably has something to do with my difficulty. Part of me feels like I’m trading on that impressionability by building these holiday traditions. It is sort of like when I told him Elsa plays first base for the White Sox, so that I can get 30 seconds more of baseball before my son melts down because baseball is not Disney. His ability to believe any of that has an expiration date. Every day he is internalizing more of what we do and say, which is a little nerve-wracking on a day-to-day basis. You never know what you said that you shouldn’t have until it is randomly parroted back at you. Luckily he hasn’t repeated a swear word yet, but I’m sure it’ll happen before I want it to. On a brighter side, his ability to internalize also means he is ready to start learning concepts and traditions for the major holidays. Every day he is advancing further into boyhood. Next Christmas will already be Jamie’s third. That is hard to believe. He’ll start to understand more about Santa Claus and Christmas traditions. We’ll tell him about the fat man with the gray beard who travels down chimneys to give all the children presents. We’ll probably ave to be more careful about where we hide the presents at home, as well. Maybe we’ll tell him that Santa really likes pizza and beer, and can forgo the cookies and milk. Maybe we can embellish to our tastes a little bit? I want Jamie to have the traditional magic of the holidays, but I just never realized how ridiculous some of these concepts sound until we have to explain them out loud. I want him to revel in the magic. There’s something extraordinary about a bunny that brings you chocolate and jelly beans, or a tooth fairy that brings you money for missing teeth. There’s something special about an overweight man who manages to jetset across the globe with his fleet of reindeer and a small sleigh to bring EVERY child in the world presents. I have no qualms with a little magic and tradition. Last week...

I would consider myself a supportive parent. I even wrote a blog post about potential careers for my son when he grows up. Like any reasonable human, that support has limits. My 2-year-old received a toy kitchen for Christmas from his Nana. While he’s shown great potential in other areas, I’m a little bit concerned about some of his culinary work to this point. It should be noted that I’m not a fussy eater. I have pretty much lived my life as a member of the clean plate club. My son’s toy kitchen antics could have me rethinking that later in life. Another way for me to look at Jamie’s culinary adventure is to be impressed with his creativity, and to realize he’s just a toddler. Maybe I will come around to this viewpoint if I can keep him out of the real kitchen until he’s 21. Here are a few of the toddler recipes he worked up for his mother and I over the last few days. Anyone who wants to come over for dinner is welcome to join us. I hope you brought your appetite: Chocolate Hershey’s bar with sardines. Yes, out of ALL the toy food ingredients he has, these are the two things he stuck in the same bowl. If we’re going for sweet, I think I’ll stick with Swedish Fish. There’s no chocolate, but it would still be the safer bet. On a side note, what toy kitchen is complete without sardines? Boiled hamburger buns. I’m not sure they would even survive. Maybe that’s because I haven’t tried it. Could this be the secret to a great burger? Fried strawberries. Who looks at a strawberry and says: “I wonder what that’s going to taste like after it’s been on a frying pan?” I’d hate to see what he’d put over these to add flavor. Coffee with salt. They may look similar, but salt is not an acceptable sugar substitute. Ever. Boiled grapes. I really don’t know what this fruit would taste like after being dipped in a pot of scalding-hot water. Maybe there’s a reason. Eggplant and watermelon. He also placed these two strange bedfellows in a bowl together. Not sure what the desired outcome is. It may be too soon to tell, but I don’t think I’m raising the next Julia Child. I might have to wait until he goes to culinary school for real before I eat anything he cooks. Of course he’s 2 and learning how to play with fake food. So who knows where any of his interests go. In case there’s anyone out there feeling brave, this blog post doubles as an open invitation to dinner. Jamie is in front of the stove....

It is easy to get caught up in a daily, humdrum routine around the house. There are things we do because they are necessary, not because they are fun, such as loading the dishwasher or cleaning up clutter. Let’s face it, only slightly demented people and children find a high level of fascination in Children may not want to constructively participate, but there is no denying their interest. Want validation in your boring household routine? Have kids. Toddlers will be enthralled with every move  you make. Every parent is the equivalent of Dos Equis “Most Interesting Man In The World” in the eyes of their toddler. Five day-to-day activities toddlers find the most fascinating: Loading the dishwasher — This is a nearly impossible task because plates, cutlery and glassware captivate all of a toddler’s attention as they make their way from the sink to the dishwasher. Your toddler will be reaching desperately for the objects in your hands, especially as you bring them down to his or her level, to place in the dishwasher. Cleaning up toys or books — Just as soon as they find the shelf, your toddler is following close behind making sure their toys and books return to their rightful place on the floor. Let’s face it. A toy on the shelf is useless. You may find this task utterly mind-numbing. Your toddler has a vested interest in the outcome. Especially if the toys are unreachable in their new location. Drinking coffee — I promise if it is juice, water, or anything else room temperature, toddlers will find it completely boring and not give a care in the world. But the second that you have to stretch your arm to keep coffee out of their reach, or utter the words “no” and “hot” in the same sentence, they will make it their life’s mission to find what’s inside. One of the greatest days for me in Jamie’s development was when he learned how to take stairs. It meant that I no longer had to carry him and my coffee up the stairs in separate trips out of fear that he’d knock it over. Going to the bathroom — Toddler’s aren’t much for following social norms or giving their parents privacy. Despite your deepest protests, they find bladder relief utterly fascinating. Eating something you’re not feeding them — The most fascinating food to a toddler is the food that is not directly in front of them. It is always a risky endeavor (but sometimes necessary) to eat something that you aren’t feeding them. Do this at your own risk. It doesn’t matter if it’s green beans and broccoli, toddlers will desperately want what you have. I’m sure I missed a million of the most fascinating things that parents do. If...

“Play books?” Jamie asked the other day as he approached me with a few options for his reading pleasure. I interpreted it as a sign that reading is fun for him. I think my son will be an early reader. Not just because he enjoys being read to, but because he’s showing signs of being a big time DIYer. Most nights when we read him a book before bed, Mr. Independent needs to be holding a different book. It’s important not to misconstrue this as an invitation for help, however. That’s the book he’s “reading” while you are reading to him. Removing it from his hands so you can read it to him results in a meltdown, because he wants to do it himself. This is why I think he’ll learn how to read sooner rather than later. Something tells me he’ll rest better once he can make sense of the words on the page himself. Right now we read the book we are handed, and all is happy. And that, is how we “play books” in our house. There’s also a running hug that he likes to give us, while making as much noise as possible on the approach. He likes to be chased around the upstairs, so that we tickle him when we find him. He also likes playing peek-a-boo and hide and seek. I cannot wait until he is old enough that we can teach him some actual kid games — such as Sorry, Life, or Candy Land. But he’s got some time before he understands strategy and rules. So chess and Risk are also out for the time being. It’s not just the fun things that turn into games at our house. Meltdowns can be averted by turning the most unpleasurable experiences into games. Pouring water over Jamie’s head to wash his hair in the bathtub? Met with cries. Those cries are diffused shortly after by playing with a toy fishing pole. Jamie wasn’t a particular fan of having lotion applied when he goes to bed. And then I started taking his limbs one-by-one and making as much noise as possible while I squeeze and tickle him—all the while applying the lotion. Now as we change his diaper he’s begging “Lotion? Lotion?” because it’s a game, and one of his favorite parts of the nighttime ritual. Sometimes when he’s on the verge of a meltdown, my wife and I will sing the ABCs with him. That has morphed into him saying “Mommy, Daddy, ABCs!” He wants us both to sing the alphabet with him at this point. If I leave this to him and his mother, Jamie will call me out on it. “Daddy sing!” The other morning I attempted to sing...