Greetings Little One

New Year's Resolutions 2009

Since you’re not able to do so, little one, I thought I might write up a few New Year’s resolutions for you to adopt in 2008. Nothing too difficult or harsh. Just some simple goals to strive toward in the coming year.

1. Let Mommy and Daddy sleep with minimal disturbance.

2. Learn to use the potty as soon as possible.

3. Master the art of burping on command.

4. Love thy babysitter.

5. Walk.

Mommy and I will do whatever we can to help you in these endeavors.

Conversation in perpetuity

Here's a glimpse into the life of your mother and me from a December afternoon in 2008: 

Charles and I were in Foxboro, attending the last Patriot home game of the year, and your mother was at home, more than eight months pregnant with you.  A snowstorm was dropping about a foot of snow on us making driving condition atrocious and the game less than comfortable to watch.  Later, I would later be heavily criticized by mamsy pamsys and worry worts who thought my decision to attend the game in dangerous driving conditions was foolish and misguided. 

During the game, your mother and I exchanged a series of text messages.  I thought that they provided an interesting account of how your mother and I communicate at this point in our lives.  Here they are, unedited:

Mommy: Just went upstairs to find two huge mounds of cat vomit on the rug. Finding him less endearing.

Mommy: Actually, make that three.

Me: Sorry honey. Weather getting worse. What’s it like in CT?

Mommy: Weather not bad. Cat in jeopardy.

Mommy: My back is now killing from cleaning up after the cat.

Me: So sorry, honey, but “cat in jeopardy” very funny.

Mommy: Glad you think so. Retaining my humor through my rage.

Me: Still funny. Charles thinks so too.

Mommy: Cat doesn’t think so.

Someone thought of it first

I have an idea, little one. 

I'd like to create a line of clothing that allows father and son, mother and daughter, to dress identically.  Though I wouldn't want us to dress alike, no one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public. 

HL Mencken said that.  One of my heroes.  

So just when I thought I've found a goldmine of an idea, a means of exploiting the stupidity of the consumer, I find companies like matcheez.com. 

"Where great families dress alike."

This company has lines of clothing named Mommy and Me, Just Like Daddy, Super Siblings, and even Couples Corner, because who doesn't want their husband or wife dressing just like them?

Oh well.  I'll have to find another way to pay for your college tuition.  

Sad day

When the Jets lost yesterday, closing out the Patriots' chances for a playoff run, I was sad, little one. 

I remain upset today, and I will probably feel awful for weeks.  Eleven wins and no playoff berth, while teams like San Diego and Arizona enter the playoffs with 8-8 records. 

Let this be a lesson, little one.  Life is not always fair. 

I heard your mother chatting about the loss on the phone last night, and I heard her say, "The one good thing about the Patriots missing the playoffs is that I won't have to worry about a playoff game during my delivery."

While I don't think there is anything good about the Patriots missing the playoffs, I found it remarkable to hear how devoted your mother is to our team.  Just imagine.  If we found ourselves in the delivery room during a Patriot playoff game, even she would be thinking  about the Patriots a little.

The word fan is derived from the word fanatic.  Can you see why? 

Plastic

Speaking of baby paraphernalia, what did these baby product manufacturers do before plastic?

Every goddamn thing is made of plastic. 

Some assembly required

I have learned a valuable lesson when it comes to giving baby shower gifts, little one:

If you are giving a gift that requires assembly; a swing, a highchair, or anything like this, take the time to assemble the gift before handing it over.  I have spent the last week assembling assorted baby paraphernalia, and it has not been easy.  The directions are indecipherable, the pieces number in the millions, and the time consumed in this process has been outrageous.

I hope you enjoy these plastic monstrosities, little one, because so far, I have not. 

Your first Christmas (in utero)

Merry Christmas, little one!

Your mother gave me a number of wonderful gifts, but none brought me more smiles than this one, which will eventually find its way on you.

She also purchased this one for herself, which I think you’ll like as well.

We're hoping that you love music as much as we do.

Don't underestimate your mother's level of coolness

Christmas Eve, little one. I am spending most of my time assembling a new desk for me and a bouncy contraption for you.

Your mother is sitting in the living room, resting her sore back and in the midst of a South Park Christmas marathon. Episode after episode of South Park hilarity.

You can’t underestimate the level of happiness I feel in knowing that I married a woman who chooses to spend her Christmas Eve watching South Park. I honestly feel as if I have married the coolest girl on the planet.

Ordinarily we would join the Wolgemuths for midnight mass at their church, but with the arrival of Ariadne less than two weeks ago and your mother’s prodigious pregnancy, we decided to skip services this year.

Maybe next year.

Speaking of South Park and your mother, let it be known that your mother is one of the best gift givers in the world. Her gifts to me are always highly personal, remarkably clever, and most impressive, she often spends less than ten dollars per gift.

Take last year. My favorite gift was a chocolate version of Mr. Hanky, the indelible Christmas character from more than one South Park holiday episode. Your mom found a chocolate popsicle, complete with face and holiday hat, that resembled the cartoon character, and to the hat, she adorned the words Mr. Hanky. It probably cost her two bucks, but it was my favorite gift from the Christmas last year.

   

No matter what you hear or see in this world, little one, never judge a gift by the amount of money spent on it.  Rather, consider the thought and wit that went into the gift and the amusement that it brings.

Important thoughts on gift giving

Over the past few days, I’ve been receiving holiday gifts from friends, students, and colleagues. All are much appreciated, but if I had to choose my favorite so far, it has to be a card given to me by friends and parents of a current student.

It’s a blank card (no adoption of Hallmark sentimentality for this family) that reads:

Dude!

Peace!

And is then signed with the couple’s first names.

For all the gift cards, books, cookies and chocolate that I have received, it was this card, with its informality, its simplicity, and its sincerity that has brought me the most pleasure. It made me laugh and continues to make me smile every time I think about it.

Let this be a lesson, little one.

For all the money and time spent on the purchasing of gifts, sometimes just two little words can bring more joy than anything bought at Macy’s. And while I’m certain that I will adore the gifts that your mother will be giving me, this card will surely remain as one of my favorite gifts of the year.

Predetermined for success

I’m in the middle of Malcolm Gladwell’s book, The Outliers. It’s quite compelling. The book is written in an attempt to explain why some people succeed while others do not, and he writes about a phenomenon that elementary school teachers have known about for a long time:

Your birth month greatly determines your chances of success.

Gladwell cites numerous studies that have shown that in academics and sports, children with January, February and March birthdays have a significant advantage over children born later in the year. Since the cutoff date for placing kids in kindergarten is typically December 31, babies born early in the year tend to be the oldest in their class, and as a result, they begin school with a distinct advantage.

Ask any school teacher about a December baby and you’ll likely hear that these children tend to be less mature than their peers. I’ve known teachers who actually evaluated their incoming class by the number of December birthdays on the roster.

It might not sound like much, but when you’re only 60 months old, a difference of even six months is statistically significant.

Add to this the power of cumulative advantage, in which high achieving kindergartners are placed in stronger learning groups, receive greater amounts of enrichment, and are able to access opportunities that their significantly younger peers cannot, and this advantage of three or six or twelve months grows exponentially. And this advantage continues in first grade, where these kids are now soaring thanks to the advanced reading groups that they find themselves in as a result of their successful kindergarten career. By the time these kids enter middle school, this advantage has compounded many times over, making these January-March children the gifted and talented kids in their class, not because of ability, but because of birth month.

The same holds true in sports. Gladwell cites one Canadian junior hockey team (which also has a December cutoff date) on which 87 percent of the players were January-March babies. Examinations of similar hockey teams, from Pee Wee all the way up to the NHL, show a significantly greater number of players born during the first three months of the year. These kids were just bigger and more developed when they began playing, and as a result, they were given more opportunities to practice, to play in games, and to join travel teams.

What does all this mean to you, little one? Maybe nothing, but note that your mother is a January baby, I am a February baby, and you will undoubtedly be one or the other.

I expect great things from you.