Life & Times of a New Dad

Everyone's Doing It

I’m guessing that years from now, K-Man might come to us and ask if he can go on a trip to Lake Tahoe with 10 friends as part of a cigarette company’s promotion to gain new clients (or maybe to ask if he can buy a bong). And, I’m guessing that as much as his requests sound like good ideas, there’s a chance that we’ll have to break his heart and tell him no. I’m also guessing that, in order to get us to change our minds, K-Man might bust out with a, “But Daaaaaaad! Everybody’s going. Everybody’s doing it!” Sorry kid. That kind of reasoning just ain’t gonna fly.

But today isn’t “years from now,” and K-Man isn’t the one begging for something. It’s us. And, damnit, K-Man…everyone is doing it. Charlie’s doing it. Sophia’s been doing it for months now. Tucker’s doing it. (Well, not really, but you don’t know that.) Sara’s doing it. Need I name others, K-Man? What is it that these kids are doing? That’s right. Using the damn potty. No more diapers.

Yes, K-Man has used the potty intermittently. Even today, he’s more likely to pee in the potty than not. But…poop? Forget about it. He just won’t do it. Just to rub it in, in fact, he’ll stand next to the potty and then crap in his diaper. Nice, K-Man. Very nice. What the hell was that all about?

I know there are ways to do this. I know all about taking a weekend and blah, blah, blah. But, we live in California. Sunny California. Sixty-eight degrees in the middle of winter California. I don’t feel like spending a weekend inside doing this. (Yes, I know…then we have nobody to blame but ourselves. I get that. Shut up.) But I digress…

Enough with the damn diapers already. The kid gets horrific diaper rash. I’ve tried logic. “K-Man,” I’ve explained. “Diaper rash. Think about it. Without the diaper…there is no diaper rash!” He then usually says, “Okay, Daddy.” This is the equivalent of the mystical “vote of confidence” in sports. When a team owner says that his coach is doing a good job and will be with the team next year – you know he’s going to be fired. When K-Man says, “Okay, Daddy.” You know he’s about to crap in his diaper. This is about the time when I get especially skeptical about how smart my kid is.

Desperate times call for…bribes. We tried chocolate. Okay, K-Man, every time you use the potty, we’re going to give you some chocolate. He replied, “I don’t want to get fat, Daddy.” (And, once again…I felt okay about how smart my kid is.) All right, son, chocolate’s not enough. How about a scooter? That’s right, K-Man. You crap in the damn potty, I’ll buy you a freakin’ scooter. That got his attention and as I changed yet another diaper, he said, “Do I get a scooter now?” Time to look at junior colleges, maybe.

K-Man’s junior college tuition will be paid with the work we do in marketing. So, I figured, it’s time to get smarter about this battle. Perhaps we need a bit of marketing muscle. Perhaps we need to add some real incentive.

The scooter did seem to capture his attention (longer than the chocolate chips, at least). So, now…we’re going to print out pictures of the scooter and tape them to the wall above the potty. The message can’t be any stronger: Crap here. Get this. It’s direct marketing at its finest.

I have no idea if this is going to work. Everybody’s doing it kid. You should do it to. (At least for now...Please don’t remember this in 15 years.)

It Takes All Kinds

Earlier this morning, I took K-Man to the park. After spending a total of about five hours sliding down the “fire pole” yesterday, he was geeked up to go back this morning. (Unfortunately, the new friends that he made yesterday couldn’t make it today.) As K-Man was sliding down the pole for the 100th or 500th time, I noticed a few of the other dads and kids in the park.

There was the jock dad with a group of 10-year old (or so) kids. He was playing “permanent quarterback” while the kids enjoyed a spirited game of three-on-three touch football. This was clearly the former athlete (former because he clearly wasn’t participating in any sort of activity these days), sports dad, one-time fraternity president, coach the kids’ teams guy. He was pushing the kids, but not in that over-the-top kind of way we read about in the news.

Then, there was the dad who had his kids at the park to give his wife a break. He wanted very little to do with his kids and was merely killing time. This was the tight ship running dad. He kept counting down the time the kids had left in the park. He wasn’t all that interested in the fact that his two kids were having a good time. He was going to be there for 20 minutes…and nothing more.

Finally, there was the altogether invisible dad. His kids were dressed head-to-toe in camouflage and carrying toy automatic rifles. These kids were playing “war,” as they dropped into the sandbox, slid on their bellies and elbows and fired “play shots” at the other kids at the park. Dad, meanwhile, sat far away reading his paper and never looked up.

The entire scene struck me as parenting in a nutshell. In short, as I consider what my next book will be (and I think I’ve finally got it worked out), I realize there is no “parenting/fatherhood” market. What I mean is that that there are all kinds of parents. We all do things differently. We’ll eventually find our way toward other parents who have the same kind of views/styles we have, but it’s impossible to say, “I wrote a book for dads.” What kind of dads?

I received a review for my last book on Amazon (a couple actually) that just ripped me to shreds. And, there are others who apparently loved it. Clearly, the couple of people who ripped the book hated the content and the style of writing. And, equally clearly, I don’t think we’d get along. Based on the comments/critiques, we have different parenting styles. I don’t have a problem with these people ripping the book – I really don’t. The fact is, it wasn’t written “for them.” It’s impossible to write a book “for parents.” There is no category of “parents.” It’s far too segmented.

I read a ton of parenting content that I hate. Why? Simply because I don’t believe the things the writers are saying. Why? Because we have different styles. Just like people have different political beliefs. That doesn’t make what they write wrong. It just makes what they write wrong for me. But, I’m not going to rip them for the way they do things. I’m not going to judge them as good parents or bad. (Admittedly, however, when I saw the kids playing “war,” I made all kinds of assumptions about that dad. I quickly stopped myself. I don’t know that dad. I don’t know his history. Who am I to say what his kids are doing is wrong. He may very well think it’s crazy to let a kid pretend to be a firefighter all day…every day.)

Finally, as I got a few hours to myself this afternoon, I was sitting at a bar next to a woman who was drinking a martini and a beer. She was nervously handling a clear plastic shopping bag, which allowed me to see the EPT box inside. Clearly, she thought these two drinks might be her last for a while. So, why not go big and double fist? After a few minutes, she went to the bathroom with her friend. Ten minutes later, she returned. Negative.

If she had been pregnant…I wonder what kind of parent she would have been? There’s no telling.