Ian has named his (latest) favorite stuffed animal ‘Johnny’, which reminded me of this little slice of Disney nostalgia. I was pleasantly surprised to see that this is performed by the Andrews Sisters, whom I now adore but didn’t know existed then.
A few things you won’t find in cartoons anymore: winos, blackjacks, and police brutality.
Words that have never been used to describe our furnishings:
Even as a guy whose bathroom register is held in place by duct tape (seriously), I just have to assume that the same must be said for most people, let alone most parents. Yet, as The New York Times attests, apparently the learning curve of parenting encircles more than sleep deprivation, diaper changes, and keeping your child alive. You also have to navigate the living room furniture:
‘Ms. Brown and Mr. Friedman…were also determined not to let Harrison “take control of the house,” Ms. Brown said. They went ahead with putting in flat-front lacquered maple cabinets in the kitchen, even though they soon had to watch a professional babyproofer drill 300 holes in them for safety latches. (Ms. Brown still cringes.) They put up silk Shantung draperies in Harrison’s bedroom, knowing that they might well end up stained, as they soon did—with yogurt. And they held onto the molded-wood chairs, which were not an easy transition from the highchair.’
Read more →
The New York Times
This article from the Times goes into shocking detail of the plight of those whose children don’t match their carpet. It’s painful reading.
A woman traumatized after placing her ’18th-century mahogany dining table and chair set in storage’. A man ‘vexed’ by the problem of how to keep both a toddler and chairs with ‘razor-blade’ corners. A design technologist and food activist who convert an old factory into a home ‘that would be kid-friendly as well as sensitive to [their] need to live in a well-designed adult environment’.
I know, I’m being petty and childish. But, really, if you’re the parent of a four-year-old, and you import a cherry dining table from France, and are surprised when that girl—your daughter—carves her name into that table, aren’t you asking for it?
(Thanks, Mr. Big Dubya!)
* For the record, Mr. Cheng, ‘small-town guys’ don’t say things like ‘aesthetic point of view’ or ‘minimalist’ or ‘largely’.
Janet’s tagged me, kicking and screaming, forcing me to be sociable even in this most isolated medium. For which I’m grateful.
Coincidentally, I happen to have just finished The Road, by Cormac McCarthy, which is sitting on our dining room table waiting to be returned to the library. This is a chapterless book nearly devoid of punctuation, which a previous checker-outer obligingly inserted with a red colored pencil.
It’s a post-apocalyptic story of a man and his quite young son, crossing a desolated America, trying to find food, warmth, and safety. It is not the most uplifting depiction of fatherhood, but it is beautiful. Why I—a man disproportionately moved by Hallmark commercials—chose to read this book, I’ll never know.
‘He held it to the light. A single bit of sediment coiling in the jar on some slow hydraulic axis. He tipped the jar and drank and he drank slowly but still he drank nearly the whole jar.’
Let’s see what Mike (though I see he’s on ‘hiatus’), Jungle Pop, Phil, Jason, and, heck, why not the rest of the crew at DadBloggers have to say for themselves.
As tradition has been at Total Depravity, I’ll put a blogfatherly spin on this meme and limit it to children’s or young adult literature, if possible. The closest I can get is The Fellowship of the Ring:
‘They cased me all the way to the Ferry. I have never got over the fright—though I daresay the beasts knew their business and would not really have touched me. Pippin laughed.’
You think Ian has an expressive face?
One of the more beautiful moments of being a parent is watching your child discover that he can make you laugh.
Please Don’t Go
By William Fitzsimmons
…and I don’t believe your protest
that you swear you didn’t know
how to even change a diaper
or to teach me how to throw…
A Moment’s Sacredness
By Tony Woodlief
‘Before her baptism, our Caroline, who was only two, called our pastor “the creature,” which was as close as she could get to “the preacher.” After her baptism, she called him God. I always wondered what she saw or sensed as he prayed over her, to give her a sense of the moment’s sacredness.’
Read more →
World On the Web
Totally like whatever, you know?
By Taylor Mali
(Thanks, Phil!)
Remember DadBloggers? Yeah, I’m still over there, too:
‘Ian’s impromptu flights of imagination are harder to catch. His world is fully regulated, documented, and signed in triplicate. You cannot enter unless you’ve read the rulebook, which has yet to be published for all its revisions. He analyzes and tweaks and draws his boundaries with a straight-edge ruler. He has a very large eraser.’
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DadBloggers
In today’s Wall Street Journal, Tony Woodlief explains why I’ve named this site ‘Total Depravity’:
Don’t Suffer the Little Children
By Tony Woodlief‘Many parents in the unconstrained camp adhere to Rousseau’s sentiment: “Man is born free, but everywhere is in chains.” They not only fail to punish bad behavior but snarl at anyone who rebukes their precious darlings. In our house we have reversed Rousseau’s theory: You are born in bondage and should be darn grateful for the free room and board. Besides, if you want to talk about restrictions on liberty you can take it up with your mother, who hasn’t had an uninterrupted trip to the bathroom since 2001.’
Read more →
OpinionJournal
Parents, make no mistake: despite your best intentions or lofty ideals, and no matter how adorable your child, never forget that he will punch you in the head for no other reason than his fingers make a fist.
And I have the nervous tick to prove it.
