battery
powered "ding-ding!". I would have guessed the price to be $9-10.00.
But not in satanic Thomas land...where the cost was a WHOPPING $27! We
have asked that no family purchase any more Thomas items...but you can
only hold back the storm so long. 
followed, while Asher pawed through
all the really cheap toy junk that they have at the counter. So,
minutes passed as the "girls" could not figure out what the train
actually did, despite me explaining that it was broken. I had batteries
and a screwdriver in my pocket which I whipped out because the one girl
could not manage the screwdriver for the broken one. As I put the
batteries in the new one, I asked the manager (ha) "Does it make music
and just go?"...her reply was that you had to use the included
whistle to make it go- it was sound activated. Pause for a growing
embarrassment in me...see, Asher had told me they "wore out his friends
batteries" playing with it at daycare. But in reality, his friend did
not bring the whistle- so it never worked at daycare...he just WANTED it
to make music. So, as I realized how much of an idiot I was for
throwing the box away and not keeping the directions, or reading the box
(which I now noticed had a great big "SOUND ACTIVATED" symbol on the
side...top...front...bottom...), and BEFORE the gaggle of girls could
get the batteries in the old one (and possibly cure cancer) and notice
there was nothing wrong with it, I smiled and quickly strollered out the
store. I was rolling along when Asher exclaimed "UH-OH!". I looked
down, and he is holding one of those cheap toy combo suckers that had a battery
powered propeller and digital lights for $3.99. Rather than return in
shame, I quickly told him: "Oh, those nice girls gave that to you
because we had to come all the way back out here to get a new Thomas."
o start with the lowest of lows...movies. A few
years back they remade the Little Rascals
e Rascals reruns, I knew those 1930’s leftovers very
intimately. The shows raggedy dress and antics fit the 1930’s
depression era, but transporting that to the mid 1990’s was idiotic.
Clubhouses and trousers are a thing of the past. The child acting
is awful, and it panders to the camera with each one-line-moldy-old
joke. I can't watch a whole movie for the "aw, isn't that cute?"
moments. I considered this to be the high water mark of god-awful hollywood crap- until recently. Thomas and the Magic Railroad
avid
Bowie classic Labyrinth- and decided to make a lousy cartoon movie to save
the rain forest...surprisingly, it didn't work. I think children
may have ended up actually caring less about the rain forest.
television. Everyone oohs and ahhs at Dora the Explorer’s
cultural exposure…but is it really? Is it really cultural because she
uses a few Spanish terms? The show plays like an idiotic point and
click videogame. I have said it before, and I’ll say it again- this show
retards our youth. The character design is a mix of wishy-washy generic
Disney ethnic displays and bad big eyes anime. It has however perfected
invasive marketing. I can buy Dora backpacks, soup, notebooks,
hair gel, clothing, and jewelry. Congratulations on flooding the
marketplace with soon to be tossed in a landfill craptacular products.
Lazytown…yikes. Thanks Sweden for producing a freaky pandering show
to “make kids (sorry kidZ) get up and move”. From generic trance music
to creepy weird puppets and characters, I have simply banned this show.
And the best is for last, Boobah. Good god! This show is
possibly the worst thing I have ever seen. I tried to banish the memory
of the show from my brain by quickly banging my head against the wall,
but it only gave me a headache. I still remembered the show, but
now I can't do math. I can’t say much more about this show without
cussing, or without a thesaurus. I don't even answer my son when
he asks to watch the videos online. I just look at him, and he
laughs. He's smart like that, but he wouldn't be if he watched Boobah.
stly, books & music & technology. Specific books get a kind of
pass with me. It’s hard to screw up a book. Even the bad ones are
worth reading to expose story
and letters to a child. I guess if I have to go with bad, it’s the
cheap books that use extra-curricular items to hide the poor art or weak
writing. See Rainbow Fish, or most any sound activated super
annoying book in Wal-Mart for a good example. Music generally gets the
same pass, except for KidZ Bop. I know…let’s take popular pop
music and make a group of KidZ sing the lyrics- that’ll be a hit right?
Oh, and let’s make countless sequels by just adding a number. Now let’s
make it look super-happy-fun-hip-groovy by having plastic gap model KidZ
pretend they are belting out the heartfelt lyrics in commercials. Oh,
and what the heck- lets sex ‘em up. Technology is too wide open to be
specific, and this is not a discussion on age-appropriate videogames- so
I’ll avoid that. However, I have found an endless number of “CD games”
(they are generic, so I’ll actually call them "CD games") tossed in with
toys and cereals that are completely pointless for children. I could
hammer out a more comprehensible game on my 1981 compaq computer.
The
highs
new Disney airbrushed bland junk. The old Pooh is gentle, positive,
helpful, supportive and calming- a perfect example of Taoist life
philosophy. Pooh showcased classic voice acting, genuine relationships, and character
studies. We all know a depressed eyeore, a cranky rabbit, or a
pretentious owl...don't we? Pixar also makes consistently
excellent films. The art and the message highlight the blueprint for
making quality art. Form (the art or visuals) and Content
(the story) work as one. Finding Nemo
rk.
It seems like those that produce it really care about kids. It lacks
commercials (except for their shows), it’s fun, it's entertaining, and
educational without being pandering. There are too many children's
entertainments that force education, but it is not education with any
depth (see Dora). I think they are all trying to desperately be
Sesame Street. Franklin books never wowed me, but the
show does. Characters get angry with one another, utilize conflict
resolution, and face issues that
I know I had as a child. It presents real issues without being obvious.
The Backyardigans and Jack’s Big Music Show are shows that
mix true quality music with fun short stories- every kid loves music. 
th
that. Some are older like Goodnight Moon or Little Gorilla,
and some are recent like Cow or Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.
There are too many to mention, too many quality art books and a lot
of quality messages. Books have branched out from when I was kid.
There are books that confront every issue, where when I was a kid they
were mostly for fun. Music is the same. Although I am no fan of
groups that make kids music, I think there are a few doing good fun
things for kids. Most have exposure through Jack’s Big Music Show
(Noggin network) like Laurie Berkner and Nuttin’ but St
ringz
(even with that “z” they are too cool for words) and struggle in a
limited children's market. See, it’s my money that buys the music- not his, that
means sales are generally limited...for he has no income. My son
has, from day one had an affinity for music- but is an oddity. He prefers our
modern music to kids music. He has gone to sleep listening to
Thelonious Monk (jazz) for
most of his life. And for those parents who push nostalgic items
upon their children, I still think that the Schoolhouse Rocks
shorts DVD is one of the best around. 
station
2 game: Katamari Damacy. Maybe it’s the overtly japanesque-homoerotic
nature, or the clean bright graphics…whatever it is, he likes it and
it's fun.
Asher laughs so much
that I wonder if people
think that he may be
"special". I blame that
on Chris's laughing fits
while she was pregnant.
Anytime he moved she
would bust out laughing.
That's why "Asher"
(Hebrew name meaning
happy boy) is
so fitting. He
already laughs so much
that people (kids and
adults) gravitate
towards him. He used to
go to
daycare
right near my old job.
We had 2 or 3 half days
in the morning as a
necessity while we both
worked.
He
was so scared when he
started because at that
point he had limited
"kid" interaction
experience. But by the
second or third time,
when he would arrive and
leave -EVERYONE was
yelling his name.
Friends, older kids,
teachers...he is such a
people person. He is
infectious, and he is my
real art. Being a
father has been
bittersweet. I love it,
and I loathe it. I see
myself in him, and I am
at peace. A lot of
parents say that they no
longer fear death, I
don't know if I'll be
quite that morbid- but I
get the sentiment.
Adults can get so
distracted by life, and
I am not immune to that.
I do everything I can to
not project my
distracted adult mood on
him, but at times I
do...and I have to let
him know what I feel.
He deserves that
respect, as long as it
still allows him to be a
child. He is so
good at accepting that,
and even trying to fix
it, or rebound from an
issue. Kids are
resilient like that.
The most bittersweet areas are the lack of freedom and the difficult times of everyday life that all adults have. Anton Chekhov has a quote: "Any idiot can face a crisis, it's the day to day living that wears you out." I struggle to find the balance (like all other parents) where his life ends, and I get mine back- even for a few minutes.
Sometimes, I feel just plain selfish. Sometimes I miss my life.
The best are all the other moments. The small ones. The nightly bath routine, reading books, putting on Thelonious Monk for him to go to sleep to every night, watching a movie together (even for the 100th time). Making him laugh, the double kisses and hugs, the multitude of endless nicknames we have for each other (and the fact that he gets it) like when he says to his mama "Whoa Turny" when she makes a sharp turn while driving, getting his chocolate milk when I get my coffee, the demands for candy when he "poops" in the potty (He was potty trained with chocolate, so when he first started pooping he would yell "I pooped ...chocolate please")...all the little things make the bittersweet hurdles less destructive.
So I am embarking on week 9 of being a stay at home dad, and I am feeling isolated, drained, stressed, and overwhelmed. My days have been loaded with "I'm cooking 
what now?" , and playdough villages, and dance parties, and upsets, and chocolate milk, and hugs, and snacks, and thomas the train, and life skills, and art, and children's programming (both tolerable and frustrating). At times, I am left to wonder where "I" am in all this. Where is the adult "Alan"? It's not a new worry, I have had it for over a year now. Chris has worked nights since before Asher was born, so I am not new to the toll of childcare. I am like the people in that photograph stuck in the strings of Michael J. Fox's guitar at the end of "Back to the Future". I feel like I am fading, and for christ's sake- if they don't hurry up and kiss...I'll just disappear.
Career Dilemmas fuel disappearing
What about my career? For a very long time I balanced teaching part time with a career in social services But, the last few years have produced a lot of conflict between my career and fatherhood. I accepted a full time teaching position at a local college right after Asher was born, leaving my position in social services. I ignored the red flags about the administration and the supervision, and the length of the commute 45 minutes + one way, resulting in 7 hours of driving a week. My first fatherly conflict arose after I came home one late afternoon to the nanny showing me that Asher could now walk across the room...and I missed it. I watched him stand up, and stumble-run across the living room in the arms of the nanny. Not my arms, hers. I spent another year and a half teaching at the school. Every day was tense and filled with political nonsense. When I was given the opportunity to play ball "their way" or leave, I chose to leave. Was it teaching career suicide? ...yep. But I taught the next year at 2 other local schools, and I would have stayed on if they had a position. I accepted another job in 2007 returning to social services. Again, I ignored red flags on the character of the supervisor, and ignored the red flags within myself. As summer approached and the supervisor conflicts piled up, I chose again to resign. Career suicide? ...maybe. But in looking at the daycare and pre-school looming for the summer (at a cost of nearly $1,000/month), I decided to stay home. Now for just a moment, set aside your preconceived notions on career to see what I see long term. We all are influenced by our childhood. Some of us take years of therapy and drugs to never sort out a negativity based in our youth. We spend decades making poor choices for reasons we do not understand as it relates to our upbringing. Some of us figure it out and overcome the negativity. Some of us are raised in a positive environment, and rarely have to deal with our past. Some daycares are great, some so-so, and some awful. Our childhoods make us who we are. So, with that in mind- I had a career in art and social services. Neither of which would ever make me rich. After a lot of thought and a LOT of anxiety, I chose to be there for Asher. I could have stayed in a SUNY teaching position, or in social services and have someone else raise my son for large portions of the day. Or I could be there, and have him remember me being the one helping him through the days. It was a choice of career or his life. Which would you choose? Struggling with a career in art is not new, I think that I can struggle and be a better parent.
9/3/08 Asher's first day of pre-school begins. Today is open house day, so it's only an hour, but I am still so nervous. My first school day did not go well, and I want him to fair better that I did. Chris is at school today, and to be very honest- I have only done one child-life-meeting-event without her...his stitches. I had her do a dry run with me last night in fear that I would suddenly forget how to drive, or find my way around a city that I have lived in nearly my whole life. This is the beginning of his school years, and I feel like a deer caught in the headlights. While I don't think it's a severe life issue - it's pretty serious to me right now.
I guess if I have to
look at my parenting, I
can say that I did not
continue the cycle (or
create one)- I am not
perfect, but I did that
right. 
I am ar
ound
him all the time, and he
is very visible to me,
and he knows that.
There is so much
pressure for parents
today to be out of the
home- out of their
child's lives. We
are pressured to be so
busy, even when we are
home, that our kids
become invisible.
If parents aren't being
dogged for more and more
productive work hours,
then they are being
dogged to fill up their
kids lives with endless
activities. I want
to fill up this period
of his life with us.
Time with his mama and papa. He is
loved, and feels that- I
know it because in
return, he is loving.
He has a family, one
that is there and
celebrating the present
moments with him. Maybe
I have taken that book
"the Precious Present"
to heart, but I want to
be there everyday.
I don't want the
majority of his waking
day to be spent in
daycare, or with someone
getting paid to take
care of him. I
don't want him to be
sleepily loaded into a car
at 7am, dropped off at
daycare, and to be put
back in that car at 5pm.
This is NO judgment of
any other parent, it is
just a conscious choice
that we made before he
was born. This is the
one shot Chris and I
have, and we want to do
it the best that we can.
He'll get that time away
when he is in school all
day...and that time is
rapidly approaching.
In fact, it has arrived.
My greatest regret is that my father is not here to see him and love him- he was a great grandpa to my nieces and nephews. So, for the sake of some odd-weird-twisted-cyberspace-universe-theory, I put his picture here with theirs, where it stays together forever in a cyberspace realm. In a way, this journal is me telling my father that he did a good job in starting to break the cycle. He did the best that he could for me, he tried and was there- and I am passing on that love to my own child. My father Barney passed away in 1993, long before I met my wife and we were married -and long before his grandson was born. This is an introduction. Barney meet my wife Chris, and your grandson...Asher.