Book Review: Pregnant: A field guide to Fathering by Gary Kleiman

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . March 29, 2010 . 10:50AM

A month or so ago, I received a book in the mail to review. Since I wasn’t Pregnant, or planning on becoming pregnant, I wondered how much I would have to add to this book to give it a review of any sort. However, I’m a trooper and when I opened the book, the time flew. I have to say that I was surprised by how into this book I really was. As somewho who, when she was pregnant, read what felt like every freaking parenting book out there, I was impressed by this little tome of information.

Let’s start with the obvious: this isn’t a large book. It’s not a step-by-step “how to be dad” book. It’s not going to give you the blow-by-blow details of parenthood that “What to Expect” would give you, nor will it scare you half to death like that book will. What it will do is give you a laid back view of fatherhood written by a man who has been a single dad for a long time.

At times, the book has a crunchy, granola-like feel, but overall, the information felt sound. Some of the most important advice in the book is simple: You are not your parents and you aren’t anyone else. Do your best.

The book hits on important topics such as how to hold a baby all the way through how to talk to your kids about important things. There are aspects of parenthood such as the “how to”s and the things you never consider when you are starting as a parent such as the inevitable poop in the bathtub. Yep. Been there, done that.

Overall, I’d say this is a good book for a new dad or for a new stepdad. It is a book to give to a dad who needs to not be overwhelmed with what is happening or about to happen. If you are a dad who is anal or who likes a lot of lists or being told what to do, this book isn’t for you. But if you just need a primer and a little encouragment, I highly recommend, “Pregnant: A Field Guide to Fathering” by Gary Kleiman.

The generation gap of cell phones

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . March 11, 2010 . 6:25PM

Last night, my phone rang and something told me not to answer the call. Not that it was a bill collector, or a survey, or even the pizza guy telling me he couldn’t deliver for some lame reason that would cause wailing or gnashing of teeth. No, I’d been sick since Saturday and didn’t feel like talking. I barely looked at the phone and willed it to stop ringing.

It ignored me and did what phones do. Glad to see someone around here has a work ethic, because this week I want to crawl in bed with a hot man and a bowl of soup and watch The Golden Girls while I lament about how our bodies break down and it’s not fair that mucus comes out of so many orifices of the body at a rate that is unequal to the rate of liquid I’m putting into my body.

I picked up the phone and saw that it was mom, which was good because I’ve been wanting my mommy for days. I answered and was immediately accosted with the accusation that my son was NOT responding to text messages.

Let this sink in for a minute.

My 9-year old…is not responding…to his grandmother’s text messages.

Now I get to explain why this is a huge deal.

AJ has a cell phone. He’s had one for almost 2 years of a 2 year deal. He does extra chores, beyond his regular ones, to help pay for the $10 his contract costs us every month. He takes his phone with him to his friend’s house and it has come in very handy. His phone has music on it and games and it keeps him from getting too bored.

Recently, Leon and I had made the decision to allow him to have text messaging. He is only allowed to text me and Leon and those who are in his address book. Those people include family and close family friends. He may only text them with their permission and ours. This is a strict rule. He is learning sentence structure and proper communication skills as well as spelling and it seems to be helping.

When I told my mother that AJ was getting unlimited text messaging (to avoid any potential charges and because we have it on a family plan), she groaned. My mother has held out on text messaging for years. In fact, when anyone would mention text messaging, she would groan, glare at us and say “Well, don’t you dare text me. That costs money!”

My mother is not an old woman. She is not yet 50. However, she is incredibly frugal and does not buy anything that is not on sale. She gets angry about how Abercrombie has their name on all of their shirts and that my sister and I do not necessarily share her ideas on thriftiness. She has held out on the peer pressure for text messaging from friends and other family members for ages. My sister and I have begged her to get text messaging for years.

Nope. It wasn’t happening.

3 weeks ago, I mentioned that AJ was getting unlimited messaging and that he would be sending her messages.

Say what you want about the woman, but she’s a devoted NeeNee.

She called last night TICKED that she’s been text messaging AJ like crazy and he won’t text her back.

Love. It’s a funny thing.

As the child grows…

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 11, 2009 . 10:49AM

When AJ was little, he had mad empathy. When other babies would cry, he would wail like crazy. This has never left him and I’m inclined to believe it’s part of his temperament. He’s always been the caretaker in this house, and I think it’s because he sees that when one of us is sick, we all take care of that person. It is how we handle sickness or sadness or stress. Since he was very tiny, he would play the nursemaid when Leon or I was sick. I still remember him fetching me lukewarm water in the bathroom cup when I was nursing a migraine because he’d seen Leon bring me water for my aspirin. I believe he was as young as 3 when he started.

When Leon or I am sick, he hates to go to school and when he is here, he will bring ice packs, aspirin, wet washcloths and as many hugs, kisses and cuddles as we will take. There are many nights that he went to bed on a Friday night at 7:30 because I was sick with a migraine and laying there. He would lay next to me, patting my hand, and would eventually drift off.

There is a certain sense of guilt that comes with having chronic pain–that burden that you place on the people around you. The feelings that you may have of feeling like less of a person some days often express themselves at the weakest moments and not always in the best of ways. They often present in anger, misery or irritability. AJ is immune to that when someone is sick.

This isn’t to say that he doesn’t have his egocentric “me me me” side, because he certainly does, but it has never been as strong as I expected. And I’m watching him shed it rapidly and sooner than the developmental scales predict and I wonder about the kind of man he’ll become, and how quickly it will happen. Will I ever be ready for it? People keep telling me to have more children. My guess is that they recognize that there is so much love within me for this little guy that it breaks me.

I worry less about it when I see that I haven’t done an awful job and that my health issues haven’t affected him so dramatically. As he was going to bed tonight, he kissed my cheek, hugged me tightly and said, “I hope you feel better tomorrow, mama.” Then, he gave me the dimpled grin that melts my heart and he and his hoppy little weiner dog went to sleep.

Somehow, I think we’re all going to be alright…

America is a litigious society

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . September 24, 2009 . 12:58PM

America is a litigious society. And America is being led by my 8-year old son, AJ, who, since his dad is in the legal field, believes that every perceived slight against him is tort-worthy. We’ve already had one discussion this school year as to why he cannot tell his classmates that he’s “going to sue their butt” and we thought it was effective. However, during our time in Chicago, and during our time with friends this weekend, it became clear that our message to AJ went unheard.

Tort-worthy reasons that AJ believes he can sue you:

If you will not play Pokeman with him.

If you play Pokeman with him and beat him.

If you imply that you are better than him at Pokeman.

If you do not share candy with him (though the vice versa is NOT true–his not sharing with you is not a sue-able offense).

If you make him eat Dominos pizza twice in one week.

Daring to use his batter’s helmet because all the other batter’s helmets were in use. It’s far better for you to risk head injury.

Beating him at Mario Kart.

Grounding him.

Daring to drink the last cold cola in the house.

Not saving him any cheese.

Diverting his attention from Teen Titans.

Double-knotting his cleats the WRONG WAY.

You can see where this is going. So, because I’m a good citizen, it’s up to me to nip this litigious little self-righteous being right where it hurts. We’re going to have the torts discussion again and then he’s going to sit through his Daddy telling him all the 8 million tort worthy offenses until his little ears bleed and he is so bored that he never wants to hear the word “sue” again.

You’ll thank me when he’s older.

It’s all a lie: Why we chose not to tell our son about the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . April 19, 2009 . 2:09AM

The Easter Bunny creeps AJ out

When I told my family that I was not going to honor the timeless tradition of mythical creatures bringing my son gifts on holidays that celebrate Christ in one way or another, I was met with shock and outrage. Why would I deprive him of the “magic of the season” or the “fun of the day!” We’re talking about Christmas and Easter. Currently, I’m on a religious journey of sorts and I don’t celebrate these days as the technical birth of Christ or the true day that Christ has risen. For me, if I am to celebrate Him, then I’m going to do it all year round or not at all. Mainly, though, I was not going to lie to my child and shake the trust I’d spent years building when he found out the truth from some cynical child looking to spoil a good time who decided to spill the beans to my little one.

At the time of my admission to my family, however, I’d spent years and years as a Catholic and my childhood was spent with the magic of Santa Claus and the hopes that the Easter Bunny would eat a carrot at my house. It was also spent waiting for my grandparents to get home from church before I could go upstairs on Christmas morning where, unbeknownst to me, we were really waiting for Santa to put out the goods. It was the Easter Bunny who screwed me over. Santa had the excuses. Easter Bunny didn’t.

I was little, probably close to AJ’s age of 8. I didn’t realize what was happening, nor did my mother. As far as she knew, the Easter candy/basket/goodies were all on the dining room table and ready to go. So, when my wide little eyes popped open that Easter Sunday, she gleefully allowed me to run to the dining room and see if the Easter Bunny had indeed come. What happened was the beginning of disillusionment.

My grandmother, bless her heart, was still spreading candy on the table. The carrot was not yet eaten, the water not yet drunk. I looked at her, looked at my mother and my heart dropped. Everything came together in my 8-year old mind. This says a lot being that I was a particularly sheltered, naive 8-year old. What followed wasn’t pretty. I still took the candy, oh yes, I did. But it felt like the beginning of the end. The next year my grandfather passed and my life slowly went downhill for a very long time.

Don’t think that I’m merely passing my baggage along to my child. I’ve heard similar tales of woe amongst others my age. For many firstborns, myself included, we are the guinea pig children, and AJ was not lied to about the holidays. We actually chose avoidance rather than flat out discussion. For the first several years, we didn’t have to talk about Santa or the Easter Bunny as he was too young to deal with it. Later, when it finally did come up and he asked questions, we explained about the presents and the beliefs of others and how it was important to honor those beliefs and not spoil it. For five years, he has kept the secret and managed to avoid spoiling it for everyone involved, including his cousin of the same age, who he sees every year for the entire week before Christmas.

I have no guilt about our decision. The magic of our season comes from making family time special and important. It comes from making sure that AJ knows why there are such things as holidays and that he can choose to celebrate them if they are in line with his particular beliefs. It comes from honoring the beliefs of others and loving them enough to keep your knowledge quiet when it might spoil something they cherish.

My conscience is clean and my son is happy. For me, this is good parenting.