the sins of your parents

Dear Chicken Nugget,

It's been 12 days since my last letter and you've grown so much.  You've been laughing and playing and trying to grab hanging toys.  You've discovered your hands and are constantly playing with them.

I haven't been able to sit down and write much because of work-related activities.  I love what I do but sometimes it takes up a lot of mental energy; not the kids, the adults - more on that another day.

But, today I want to apologize in advance for the fashion sins of your parents.  Your mom and I are pretty laid back people and our philosophy on dressing you as been just as relaxed.  The way we figure it, babies don't care what they look like.  Right?

Well, in case you do some day and it seems you just can't get it right, it's probably our fault.

This is what happens when papi dresses you...

your mom would like to point out the overall shorts & yellow socks

This is what happens when mommy tries to fix it...

I'm just going to point out that you've got polka dots on your white pants

It's obvious that your mom and I differ in opinion on what you should wear.  I don't think either of us are too far off the mark but I also don't think we're cultivating any form of good fashion sense. 

Luckily, I do think you're too young to care at this point.  Someday you'll care.  Until then, God help you.


Eternally yours,

Tu papi

you have me wordless you chubness monster!

Dear Chicken Nugget,

I have to admit that I've gotten very little work done at home since you joined us almost seven weeks ago.

I'll start things - like lesson planning, writing letters, reading articles - and not finish them until 12 hours later.  Something that could take me 30 minutes will take a total of 12 hours from start to finish.

For one thing, you're requiring a lot of attention.  A lot.  I am more than happy to pay close attention to you.  I would much rather stare at you than have to figure out how make the texture of a rock exciting to a second grader.

Most of the attention you require is based around food.  You've continued to eat like a champ and put on weight like a sumo wrestler.  At 6 1/2 weeks we weighted you at 12lbs.  That's double your birth weight in less than seven weeks!  Luckily your mom is the provider of the food but that doesn't mean I'm jobless.  While momma takes care of you, I have to take care of the momma.

Even when you're not demanding attention I find myself struggling to find the words I need to complete my work.  Instead, I end up in wordless awe of the miracle that is you.  No words.  Just thoughts of you.

Speaking of which, I'm going to go stare at you while you sleep.

Te quiero siempre,

Tu papa

not your pee

Dear Chicken Nugget,

As a public school teacher, I've seen my share of accidents in the classroom.  In fact, today I had a kid pee his pants.  I thought I would be more OK with it than I was considering that for the last 21 days I've been changing diapers like a pro.  I've been peed on, pooed on and, just a minute ago, spit up on.  By you.

Side note: "Spit up" is just a cuter term for vomit.  Still even baby vomit is cuter than kindergarten bathroom accidents.  At least I think so.

My very first classroom bathroom accident happened on my very first day of teaching.  There I was, a 22 year old teacher with little training, surrounded by 26 second grade students.  I had been told by the veteran teachers around me that it was best to start the year acting as tough as possible.  I was told not to smile until March.

I had the students sitting on the rug and I was trying to get them to transition to their seats.  One student refused to move.  She said nothing and didn't budge.  I went into drill sergeant mode and dispatched the remaining students to their seats.  I acted tough.  I did not smile.  And I made the little girl cry.

I got louder.  Still, she didn't move.  When I finally got down to a crouch and spoke to her in a softer voice she said, "I had an accident."  Tough 22 year old me, the guy who wasn't going to smile until March, let out a little chuckle.  That made her smile a little too.  Then, I had to figure out what to do with the girl and the pee on my classroom rug.  I rushed to the door and called to the teacher across the hall for help.

Eight years later I still haven't been able to handle the pee or poo accidents at school gracefully.  And yet, I find myself dealing with them at home every day now.  Then again, this is what it looks like at home:

Knuffle Bunny keeps you company while we change your diapers

Pee away little one.  This I can handle.


Eternally yours,

Tu papa

Editor's note: A good friend pointed out that there is a difference between spit-up and vomit.  Spit-up is regurgitation of food, while vomit is the forceful expulsion of the contents of the stomach.  Still, if adults went around regurgitating their food as often as babies did, it would be disgusting.  With you, Nugget, it's still cute.  Keep on doing what you do.

Work stinks

Dear Chicken Nugget,

Work stinks!  It's not the actual work, I love teaching, and I love teaching science.  It's the idea of "work" in general.

I went back to work full-time on Monday, September 20th, just 14 days after you were born.  It was rough.  It's still rough three days later.

I had to leave you and your mom at home.  I had to leave; that's where it gets tough.  I love spending time with you and your mom.  Even when you sleep, I enjoy just watching you.  So when I have to leave it breaks my heart.  I would much rather watch you sleep than go to work.

Luckily, your mom's parents, Grandma Sue and Grandpa Dale are here visiting for the week.  They've spent a good amount of time with you, playing with you, taking pictures of you, and watching you while your mom naps.  They've allowed your mom to rest during the day, they've made her lunch, and made sure that we have a good dinner.  We couldn't ask for more. 

It makes me a feel better knowing that there's loving people looking after you and your mom when I'm away during the day.  Still, you occupy my thoughts throughout the day.  During class, in between class, during lunch, after school, all my thoughts are with you and your mom.

When the day ends, I've been cramming in as much work as I can so that I don't have to take it home with me.  When I get home, I just want to spend time with my family.

It will continue to be hard, going to work, but I have to.  There's lots of diapers and baby wipes and doctor's visits that need to get paid for.  I don't mind working to help pay for those things since they're for you.  I just don't like that I have to leave you to do it.

Maybe I can become a virtual teacher some day...

Until then, I miss you tremendously.


Eternally yours,

Tu papa

Be the best

Dear Chicken Nugget,

I haven't written about this yet, but I have a side project from my regular teaching career.  I am an Arbitration Advocate.  I help represent colleagues from the teachers' union and try to get them their jobs or benefits back.

I've been thinking a lot about this and it's one of those jobs where you have to be your best all the time.  Much like teaching.  And, a lot like parenting, I imagine.

In an arbitration hearing someone's career may be at stake.  In teaching, there's 25 kids wanting to learn.  And as a parent, there's you.  You're going to demand the best, I will do my best to be the best, or more.

If I should fall short on occasion, I'll have your mom by my side to whip me back into shape.  I fully expect parenting to be hard and I can't wait to take it on.

And, when the time comes, I hope to lead by example and help you be the best at whatever it is you want to be the best at.


Trying my best,

Tu papa