One of our plans included a trip to Jacques Cartier Park for the last weekend of Winterlude. 

The weather leading up to the weekend was surprisingly warm (above 0º) and as a result Jacques Cartier Park was closed. 

I’d have [...]]]> This weekend was all about entertaining the kids – because that’s what parents do. 

One of our plans included a trip to Jacques Cartier Park for the last weekend of Winterlude. 

The weather leading up to the weekend was surprisingly warm (above 0º) and as a result Jacques Cartier Park was closed. 

I’d have to wait another year for a beavertail. 

But then, Jacques Frost came through for us and blessed our city with some cold enough weather. The park was open. 

Beavertail here I come! (Sounds so wrong writing and saying that) 

We didn’t just go to Jacques Cartier Park for beavertails; we went for the ice-slides! We’ve been taking the boys for years and they love it. 

Within seconds of passing through the main gate, we were heading up to our first slide. Adrian, who’s three years old, laughed at the bottom and wanted more. 

Adrian: That was awesome! Can we do it again?

Me: Of course, Buddy. 

And so we went up the same slide again. And again. 

Adrian asked me if he could go on his own (as opposed to being held onto by either me or Angie). 

Me: Of course you can! When you’re four. See that sign, that’s says you have to be four. 

The sign indicated the acceptable sliding positions.  

That didn’t seem to bother Adrian because we just kept going back up onto the ice-slides. As long as he could ride them he was a happy toddler. 

Parents, have you ever noticed that although certain activities may become memorable for you it is actually an instance that occurred with the said activity that seems to live on forever? We were fortunate enough to experience two of those moments. 

The first: eating a sinfully-delicious beavertail. 

Nope. That would have been third on my list. 

The first memorable moment was what is now referred to as, ‘the race’.

Angie, Colin, Adrian and I had lined ourselves up for a slide. Colin asked if he could team up with me to race against Angie and Adrian. 

Colin sat to my right, next to Adrian and Angie and when the attendant called, “Go!” we began our decent. Unfortunately, Angie and Adrian were a full body length ahead of us. I could sense Colin’s despair and defeat seconds away. 

For Dads, giving up is never an option! We adapt! 

There was only one solution. It was a long shot and it didn’t help that the sun was shining down at my eyes, blinding me! I pushed Colin out from me and lined him up on the outside of Angie’s right side. I used all of my P90X training and whipped him as hard as I could. The launch would be a success or at least a success in the sense that Angie and Adrian were bowling pins. 

But we prevailed! Colin zoomed (as he now re-tells the story) past Adrian and Angie and won the race! 

Our second memorable moment was not the most pleasant. 

After dining on some beavertails (finally), we decided to hit a few more ice slides before calling it a day. Adrian was paired up with me. I informed him that this was our last slide and after we had finished and began making our way to the parking lot, Adrian burst into tears. 

Adrian explained to me that it wasn’t the last slide. There was supposed to be a last slide after my last slide. 

Sometimes a toddler’s explanation is required in order to understand. 

Adrian: That was your last slide, Daddy. Not my last slide. 

You go wait for us in the car. We’re not finished!  

Adrian was quiet for most of the ride home. I could hear him sniffle while Colin shared captured moment by moment analysis of the famous come from behind race. 

“…and then I zoomed past Mummy! Mummy did you know that I was going to win?” 

And while Angie and Colin bantered back and forth I faintly heard Adrian say, “That wasn’t the last slide, Daddy.” 

I felt bad the little guy and apologised. I re-assured him next year that we would make up for the lost slide this year. 

Me: We still had fun didn’t we, Buddy?

Adrian: That wasn’t the last slide.

That was awesome, Daddy! We have to do it again!

I choose not to write about it when I began because I didn’t know if I could actually do it. And it would have been embarrassing writing a follow-up, that I’d given [...]]]> For the past three weeks, Angie and I have been getting our flabby bodies back in shape, following the P90X workout regime.

I choose not to write about it when I began because I didn’t know if I could actually do it. And it would have been embarrassing writing a follow-up, that I’d given up.

Surprisingly, Angie and I haven’t failed and we’ve discovered that we are committed and motivated to the workout regime.

So why are you doing this?

The answer is simple: I’m doing it for my kids.

My kids, Colin and Adrian (seven and three years old, respectively) have lots of energy and I don’t ever want to be the Dad who plays catch from a lawn chair.

Have you played with your kids lately? How many times have you had to call a break in the fun your having with your kids because Daddy’s heart is about to explode?

I’ve never wanted to be that person.

I’ll be honest. I’m not fat. I’ve never been fat. But I’m not in good shape. My diet is relatively healthy and that’s because of Angie. I rarely eat out and hardly ever drink pop (except for occasionally sharing Angie’s Diet Coke-which has also been reduced drastically since we began working out). If anything my weakness has always been sweets – especially chocolate.

Damn you Easter Crème eggs and your deliciousness!

But being in my forties and with two energetic kids – I needed to make a change.

Before we signed up with Tony Horton and his insanely intense program, we considered a membership at the local gym.

But there were too many cons against joining the gym: We’d have to arrange with Rica to watch the boys, it could only be done after the kids went to bed, and we’d have to alternate workouts on the weekend. You get the point.

And then Angie’s disgustingly fit brother, Roley, suggested the P90X.

Angie and I had never heard of it.

So, we did some research and decided to give it a go. And I’m happy we did because we haven’t looked back.

Week 1 was by far the most challenging. I could barely finish or complete the routines and especially found the second workout, which is mostly jumping and lunging (called Plyometrics), extremely difficult. I ended my workout with twenty minutes remaining. I just couldn’t do it and I became frustrated at my own inability – I had quit on the second day. Thankfully, Angie came through for me. She pushed and motivated me to remain committed.

Personally, my motivation is seeing Angie in her workout attire…especially during yoga.

So, here we are three weeks in and I’m feeling healthier and fitter than ever. Who would have thought that I could be so bendy in my forties!

And my kids have noticed changes, too.

Daddy, can you make you’re muscles talk again.

Working out at home has also been a major influence for our success. There are no arrangements required to watch our kids and there’s obviously no travel time. We work out after the kids are put to bed and if there’s any disruption, it’s solved in seconds.

Get back to bed! Can’t you see I’m doing Kenpo and very punchy at the moment!

For an interesting take on P90X check out these blogs: Kathy McDonald who lost 120 pounds on P90X and  http://www.fatlossblogger.com/is-p90x-a-scam/

Daddy, you're not a marshmallow anymore!

Please! Daddy, can't take anymore!

Ask any parent what they’re doing this weekend and guaranteed they have something planned.

“We’re taking the kids skating. We’re going to spend the day tobogganing. We’re checking out the museum.”

You’ll rarely hear a parent respond, “We’re just [...]]]> Why do parents (including me) feel that they have to entertain their kids every weekend?

Ask any parent what they’re doing this weekend and guaranteed they have something planned.

“We’re taking the kids skating. We’re going to spend the day tobogganing. We’re checking out the museum.”

You’ll rarely hear a parent respond, “We’re just going to relax.”

Relaxing happens as often as winning the lottery.

And yet I continue to spend money on lotto tickets.

Our past weekend, like every parent, was supposed to be a busy one: taking Colin to soccer, entertaining one of Colin’s class-mates and taking the boys to Winterlude for ice slides and beaver tails.

But then we won the lottery…sort of.

We didn’t win any money, but the good Lord (must be the recent Grammy’s and acceptance speeches) blessed Angie and I for all our parenting efforts (which must be the reason) and gave our kids a cold.

All of a sudden, our weekend became less hectic.

When I arrived home from work on Friday night, I didn’t have rush out of the house to take Colin to his soccer class. Instead I got to eat dinner while Colin slept off an ear ache.

We considered calling his friend to cancel the Saturday visit, but Colin was so excited to have him over that we decided not to cancel his play-date.

I certainly don’t enjoy cancelling my play-dates with Angie!

And really, so what if he caught Colin’s cold? Kids get colds all the time. If his friend caught his cold, his parents might enjoy a relaxing weekend at home.

Welcome him with open arms!

Anyway, I wasn’t so concerned about Saturday because I spent my day skiing with friends.

When I arrived home Saturday night I discovered that Colin was better, but Adrian had gotten worse.

Angie and I cancelled our planned Sunday activities and spent the day at home.

Colin and Adrian remained in their pj’s until after lunch and yet we managed to keep them entertained without going anywhere. Despite their colds, the boys happily played together and when Adrian went down for a nap (a whole three hours) we played Nintendo Wii with Colin.

Angie and I even had time during the day (as opposed late in the evening) to do our P90X Kenpo training. Although, I must admit that I suffered due to my ski trip the day before. I could barely reach the height of a shin and nearly toppled over a few times.

It was nice, though, to have a somewhat relaxing weekend.

Thank you Lord, for the break.

Perhaps you could come through for me on my lotto ticket, too?

Hanging out at home with the boys.

My apologies Macko if I’m spelling you’re name incorrectly. The letters (and numbers) provided by Adrian were way off. He is three years old.

We learned of Adrian’s make-believe friend when Rica asked us at [...]]]> Last week, Angie and I welcomed the arrival of a new family member: Adrian’s imaginary friend, Macko Seeno.

My apologies Macko if I’m spelling you’re name incorrectly. The letters (and numbers) provided by Adrian were way off. He is three years old.

We learned of Adrian’s make-believe friend when Rica asked us at the dinner table if we had ‘met’ him.

We hadn’t.

Rica went on to explain that Macko was seventeen years old, Colin’s height (which is just over four feet tall), wears a green shirt and has a big laugh. She also had to set an extra place at lunch time and make room for him on the couch.

I don’t know if I like having a teenager in the house.

Some parents might be concerned about a child who has an imaginary friend (I know my parents would question my sanity, but then again I am in my forties), but Angie and I thought it was perfectly normal and cute at the same time. Children have wonderful imaginations and as a parent I enjoy experiencing it.

Of course, if I (or any adult) had an imaginary friend, I’d be labelled a nut case. That is until I ordered my panther to attack!

I also wondered if there was any connection with being raised at home by a live-in caregiver (our wonderful Rica) as opposed to day care. Adrian doesn’t have a lot of interaction with other children (especially in the winter time). His brother, Colin, who’s his favourite play-mate, is at school during the week. Perhaps this is an expression of filling that void?

What really cracked me up was his choice for a name: Macko Seeno! Adrian has been exposed to hundreds of characters in books, TV and video games, but didn’t choose any of those. That wonderful imagination preferred to have the sounds spill out of his mouth and become a character. Surely, dear readers, you can relate to this experience.

It reminds me of this scene in “A Fish Called Wanda” (a classic by the way).

I finally got to discuss Macko Seeno this past weekend when I took Adrian up to Home Depot. We were walking into the store and I was joking and laughing with him when he let out a hearty laugh.

I immediately thought of Macko.

Me: Oh! That’s a big laugh. Your friend has a big laugh, too. Doesn’t he?

Adrian: Yes. Macko Seeno laughs like this.

Adrian gave me an act-out of a Macko Seeno laugh.

Adrian: He’s my friend.

Me: That’s nice Buddy. I’m happy you have a friend to play with when Colin is at school.

And I don’t think your nuts at all.

Playing with Macko Seeno!

A parental moment to say the least.

When I arrived, I was instructed (me so funny) by the Administrator to head to the library to fill out the required paperwork.

I walked into the library and was immediately greeted [...]]]> Last week I went to Colin’s school to register Adrian for kindergarten in the fall.

A parental moment to say the least.

When I arrived, I was instructed (me so funny) by the Administrator to head to the library to fill out the required paperwork.

I walked into the library and was immediately greeted by one of Colin’s former teacher’s. She was thrilled to learn that Colin’s younger brother was coming.

Teacher: That’s wonderful! Oh, Colin was such a good boy. I loved having him in my class. I smiled and reciprocated her enthusiasm all the while thinking:

You’re not getting Colin, lady!

I took a seat at the table that was nearest to me. There was already a Mom at the table and I’m sure she wondered why I choose to sit next to her when there were plenty of other tables and chairs available?

Wasn’t it obvious? I was going to cheat and look at her answers.

Actually, I sat there because it was closest to the exit. Once this paperwork was done, I was out of there!

I was given my booklet of forms and within seconds began to feel uncomfortable and fidgety. My focus was being distracted by the chair I was in.

I’d only written my last name!

It was one of those chairs made especially for elementary schools. I had one cheek balanced on the edge and wondered how I was going to get through this with all these forms to fill out. There were at least 6 different forms!

Damn these tiny chairs!

I considered walking up to the front of the room and asking for an adult sized chair, but decided not to.

What if she’s the Librarian and she shushes you. I wouldn’t look so cool to my table-mate.

After my minor setback I gathered my thoughts and concentrated on the task at hand.

With ease I began filling out the forms: Page 1, 2, 3, Section A, B, C, D.

I was feeling pretty good and my pace was smooth. The pile dissipated and I triumphantly smiled at my table-mate when our eyes met.

She sighed at the forms and I bragged, “I’m on Section D.”

And then I got to the last page. Yes, this was it! And it looked easy: a simple questionnaire.

I read the first line, ‘Can your child use scissors’ and the options that followed: Yes, No, With Assistance.

I went to the next question and the one after that;

Can your child dress himself?

He has his own personal Nanny! Heck No.

Can your child use a zipper?

See answer above.

Can your child use scissors?

See answer above.

And worst of all was the question parents dread to see:

Can your child use the bathroom?

There was no room to add my own question: Do you mean from start to finish?

He’s three years old!

Like Rica, our live-in Nanny, Angie and I are Adrian’s personal assistants.

I immediately recalled a moment at the dinner table with Adrian who had proclaimed himself to be sad. He was so sad in fact, that I was instructed (through his tears) to feed him.

Perhaps Rica could attend school with Adrian.

So what if he couldn’t do all those things yet. How many toddlers could? Right then, I wasn’t so concerned about his ‘current’ abilities.  Angie and I had seven months to prepare him. We did it with Colin and we’d do the same with Adrian.

I answered the questions truthfully and got up from my tiny chair, prepared to hand in my forms… only to be beaten by my table-mate.

Weight and grey hair was saved for me.

Observations about your children’s growth are the most commonly heard phrases by parents when [...]]]> I had my folks over to celebrate my Mom’s birthday and when they were greeted at the door by their grand-kids, Colin and Adrian, they immediately remarked, “They’ve grown so much!”

Weight and grey hair was saved for me.

Observations about your children’s growth are the most commonly heard phrases by parents when they encounter family and friends.

My response to my parents, without realising it, was similar to playing back a pre- recorded response.

“Yep, they’re growing.”

The truth is these changes in my children are much more subtle to me because, well, I live with them. With the exception of clothes, their growth almost seems static to me.

There are instances when I stop whatever I’m doing and realise that a change has occurred. For instance, while battling my Superhero sons (and I the evil villain, Amoeba Man), I all of a sudden realised that I no longer carry Colin to the playroom. This had been a morning ritual for the two of us. What’s worse was that I couldn’t recall when it had ended. It must have been quite some time ago because he is seven years old, over four feet tall and sixty pounds!

But there is one change I’ve noticed in Colin that seems to have impacted me most of all; being called Dad, as opposed to Daddy.

As a fellow gamer, Colin was vying for my attention while he explained a new discovery in Skylanders. Unfortunately for him, I was pre-occupied with getting the table set and only selectively listening to him (as opposed to actively listening). For those of you who are unaware of this inherent male skill-set, selective listening is the ability to filter and decipher key words without listening to an entire verbal assault while formulating a response (which is usually, yes).

Anyway, back to Colin.

Colin excitedly yammered on about his discovery and it was only when I heard him say, “Dad”, did I take notice.

The tires screeched as I hit the brakes.

I interrupted him and stopped what I was doing.

Me: Did you just call me, Dad?

His answer was simple.

Colin: Yes.

I looked back at him, surprised at what I’d heard and responded, “Ok.” While he quickly returned to the topic of Skylanders, I contemplated what I had heard.

At least he’s not calling you Dick, like your own family and friends used to.

Hearing Dad was heartbreaking to me.

I’ve been Daddy to Colin for 7 years.

Was I being overactive? So what if he calls you, Dad? It’s only natural. After-all, there was a time in my own childhood when I stopped calling my father, Daddy.

But I’m not ready for Dad.

It’s difficult to put into words, but losing Daddy is akin to witnessing the beginning of the end of Colin’s childhood. From the time he learned to speak, that’s who I’ve been. It’s hard to let go of that.

Dad has popped up on several occasions since then and even Adrian, who’s three, has begun using the reference, too.

I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.

At least they’re not calling me Dick.

I'll smile for you, Dad.

I'll smile, but I ain't lookin at ya!

Fiddler Lake Resort is my favourite ‘local’ winter destination for ski trips. I’ve visited the resort several times over the past five years with families (including at times, 9 kids) and [...]]]> I’ve been bummed out for the past few days because my annual ski trip to Fiddler Lake Resort was cancelled by the resort.

Fiddler Lake Resort is my favourite ‘local’ winter destination for ski trips. I’ve visited the resort several times over the past five years with families (including at times, 9 kids) and friends and I’ve never had an unpleasant experience.

I enjoy going so much that I take on full responsibility – I’m the guy who coordinates it all. And I absolutely love it. I’m so serious about this activity that I actually use MS Project in my preparation! My friends make fun of me for that, but that doesn’t bother me at all.

This visit was with the guys – twelve of us.

It was going to be a weekend of partying with good friends, playing poker and spoons, washers, skiing, snow tubing, alpine coaster riding, and pillow fights in lingerie.

Wait. The lingerie pillow fights is what I imagine happens at a women’s three night getaway.

The planning and coordination of twelve guys took months and in an instance it was gone.

Stop being mopey! What happened?

I received a call from the resort on Wednesday informing me that the owner of the chalet we had rented was no longer available. The owner had decided he no longer wanted Fiddler Lake Management managing his property and requested all contracts be voided.

The chalet was booked solid until the end of March.

I expressed my disappointment with the manager and he empathized with me. I also realized that I needed to think about this before losing my cool. I was that angry and upset.

I found it extremely difficult being Daddy to my kids that evening when my thoughts were so pre-occupied with what had occurred. What was really going on, I wondered? Was the resort intentionally bumping me for someone else? I couldn’t get my mind off of it.

I quickly posted to social media outlets like FB and Twitter- asking if anyone else had been cancelled.

If this had been any other resort I would have posted a scathing review on Trip Advisor and vowed never to return.

But I didn’t want to do that because it’s my favourite Laurentians destination!

The next morning I checked the website and discovered that the chalet was no longer being offered. That quashed any thoughts I had of my weekend being sabotaged.

And later that afternoon I spoke to the Manager and asked him to allow me to vent my disappointment.

I requested that customers be given sufficient notification for cancellations and be made a priority for discussion for the Owners who rent the chalets.

I explained to him the loyalty I’ve had to the resort and informed him of my support through my website and numerous posts and its inclusion in my blog roll.

I informed him of my support through Canadian Parents message boards, as a family friendly destination and lastly, I presented to him that I’ve been an exceptional customer: I’ve never received a complaint nor have our visits caused any damage to the chalets.

and that’s impressive with the guys!

I was satisfied with the response I received from the Manager and we’re still working out a possible solution. But at the end of the day, I’m out of a winter ski trip with the boys.

I was still mopey last night, but was rescued by Colin and Adrian. The two stood before me and begged me to battle them.

I could take out my chalet aggression on them.

“Let’s battle!” I shouted.

Adrian: Who are you going to be, Daddy?

Me: I’m going to be ‘the Amoeba’ and I’m going to tickle you until you cry of laughter! Ha Ha Ha (Evil laugh).

I knew who Adrian was going to be.

Adrian: I’m going to be T-top (triceratops) Fire Lion!

Imagine a triceratops with a mane that blows fire.

Colin said he was going to be the guy that just destroys me.

Our battle began with Adrian blowing ‘fire’ at my chest.

Me: Did you just burn a hole in the Amoeba man’s shirt?

Adrian: Yes!

Me: I was going to wear that to the Amoeba dance! You’re going down T-Top Fire Lion!

Half an hour later we were all red faced and beat.

And I was in a much better mood.

You're going down, Amoeba man!

Kissin the guns that will destroy you!

I remember the conversation we had and I recall his own self-confidence convinced me he was able to make that decision.

Me: Colin, do you want to do ski lessons this [...]]]> I think I may have made a mistake when I allowed Colin to convince me that he wouldn’t need ski lessons this year.

I remember the conversation we had and I recall his own self-confidence convinced me he was able to make that decision.

Me: Colin, do you want to do ski lessons this year?

Colin: No.

Me: Sounds good to me!

Eeking of confidence.

I probably should have thought that one through.

He’s seven, man! Kids need lessons.

Yes, that’s true, but (and this is where I may have been wrong in my judgment) when I was growing up I picked up sports very easily. It was natural for me. I could skate, play hockey, football, badminton, and it never took me more than a few outings to become comfortable with any sport.

The same goes for skiing. I never had lessons and learned by following someone who was an exceptional skier – mimicking their moves and motions.

You didn’t learn to ski until you were thirty!

Does that really matter? It only took me a season to become a good skier. Colin already had two years of lessons, so I figured he was ready. I’m kidding folks!

Colin and I spent our Saturday morning at the ski hill. Our first few runs were on a trail that Colin is very comfortable with. I asked him if he was interested in doing a different run because the one we were on was boring the hell out of me. He said he was.

We made our way to an intermediate run that turns into a beginner run. I wasn’t so concerned about Colin’s ability to complete the run because he’d done it many times before – well, last year. However, I was cautious and asked him to take his time.

The slope was steep for him and within moments he wiped out. I knew this because just as I stopped to watch him I caught his ski which was now minus one seven year old.

I made my way up to him and I knew right away that his tumble had frightened him. Seconds later I heard him crying.

Colin: Daddy, it’s too big. I can’t go down it.

What other choice do you have?

I felt bad for my son and tried to comfort and reassure him that he could do it. I was also aware that his fall and being frightened might have an impact on how he felt about skiing in general. He might decide that he doesn’t like to ski anymore. It’s very easy for children to stop participating in an activity when they become fearful.

I certainly didn’t want him to feel that way because I enjoy the sport and especially love sharing it with him.

Me: Buddy, you’ve done this run before. We did it together last year. It’s not a long run and we can do it together. I’ll stay right beside you. Okay? But first, you need to straighten your skis out.

Colin: But I’ll ski into the woods.

I wouldn’t do that – there may be a bear hibernating and you definitely don’t want to jab it in the back with a ski.

Me: Buddy, you’re not going to make it down the mountain with your skis crossed. Don’t worry. I’ll stay right close to you.

Colin was fine with that.

He wiped out once more, but I was there like I said I would be.

We took a break in the chalet and I shared some embarrassing stories about my first year skiing and while he laughed at some of the silly things I did, I realized I’m not skilled enough to teach Colin how to ski. He needs an instructor.

Monday morning I made a call and arranged for some lessons.

First run of the morning. It was cold (-15C)

Thankfully, there are enough distractions to [...]]]> Coming off a Christmas and New Year’s high with your family and into the dark and cold month of January is hard to get through. I find it the most unpleasant and unbearable month of all. No wonder we all want to hibernate at this time of year. 

Thankfully, there are enough distractions to keep my thoughts away from January and these dark times. 

Colin and Adrian are involved in recreational activities such as soccer, skiing and tumblers. 

That keeps us busy. 

We’ve also taken the boys tobogganing and played a hell of a lot of video games. 

Sometimes it’s good to be indoors! 

And most recently, we participated in some birthday celebrations. 

First up was Rica. 

It’s important for us to celebrate with Rica. She’s become part of our family and although she appreciates the recognition, it’s difficult being away from home and family. 

Angie baked a chocolate cake for her and we all sang Happy Birthday. Kids love singing Happy Birthday. Fortunately, we only had to sing it twice – after Adrian blew out the candles before it reached the table. 

I can recall a time with Colin when we had to sing that song several times over the period of one week. 

After finishing our cake we sat down in the family room and gave Rica her birthday presents – one of which was a heating pad. She thanked us for that. 

We don’t keep her in the basement! It’s January! 

I didn’t buy the gifts, but in appreciation I did clean up after dinner, did my own laundry and even put away some of my clothes – neatly. 

Apparently, cramming clothes into your drawer is wrong. It’s January! It’s too cold to put things away neatly! 

On Sunday, I took Colin to his classmate’s birthday party. It was held at a Scottish Pub (kid’s parents own the pub) and that meant leaving my house. It was -28° C with the wind-chill. 

When are birthday parties going to become virtual?

I had to stay at the party. I didn’t really want to, but Angie was concerned about the setting and the likelihood that other patrons would be present as well. There were also twenty-seven kids on the guest list. How would the parents be able to keep an eye on all of them? 

What if some rub-a-dub makes his way into the party room?  

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The entire party section was blocked off from the rest of the establishment. 

In return, I got to spend most of my time inhaling chips and salsa and watching football.  

There were moments, too when I caught myself watching Colin. Really, when you think about it – how often do you see kid’s in this environment. 

I was totally interested to see how he interacted and socialized with his friends. I actually believed that he would be the sociable guy that I would be. But he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t maniacal and loud like most of the kids who were trying to be heard. He mingled, but instead of being the social butterfly (like I would have been) he selectively sought out his good friends. 

And when everyone began dancing (they really don’t know how to dance at this age) he took a seat and laughed at the silliness of his friends. Every now and then he would look at me for my opinion and I simply laughed along with him. 

Colin also experienced a ‘first’ at the party. 

It was the first time that he had ever tried pop. That’s right, we have never given Colin (or Adrian) pop. 

I was told that Sprite, Pepsi and water were available and I decided that he could try some Sprite if he liked. 

He wanted to try it. 

I poured him a small glass and watched him take the tiniest sip ever. He didn’t like it and spat it back into his glass. 

Colin: It’s all bubbles on my tongue. What is that? I don’t like it, Daddy.

Me: That’s the carbonation. 

We could go tae the bar and order a Guinness from Jock. It has micro-bubbles and is a lot smoother. 

I poured him a glass of water instead. 

And when the party ended we headed back into the cold, dark January.

Wait, Adrian!

Smilin for cake

Open the presents!

Colin's butt is so funny

That’s the response I get from my three year old son, Adrian, whenever I put on some music. Is it possible that I may have a musician or rock star for a son?

Adrian enjoys not only listening to music, but also enjoys dancing, air-guitaring and drumming to music [...]]]> “Daddy, I want it louder!”

That’s the response I get from my three year old son, Adrian, whenever I put on some music. Is it possible that I may have a musician or rock star for a son?

Adrian enjoys not only listening to music, but also enjoys dancing, air-guitaring and drumming to music that we grew up on and are fans of. Thanks to www.youtube.com, Adrian has been exposed to bands such as the Beatles (including Beatles Rock-band dreamscapes), the Rolling Stones, AC/DC, U2 and Depeche Mode.

Hey, I liked the Eighties!

With the exception of the Beatles and the Wiggles, Adrian only knows of a bands name. He isn’t familiar with who’s who in a band.

A few nights ago, Angie and Adrian were out running an errand and when they got home they headed straight upstairs to watch and listen to some vintage U2. They’d heard I Will Follow on the radio and Adrian wanted to see it on the computer.

I could have easily blown out the tune on my Yamaha receiver and Polk Audio speakers, but that only happens when Mummy is out of the house.

He’s seen the video before, but especially loves banging out the drum parts. He also insists that Angie and I participate – I have to sing and Angie has to dance. I get in trouble when I try to switch to air-guitar.

Angie and Adrian then took some time out to sit at the computer and search for songs to play when she came across a U2/Mick Jagger duet.

And the heavens shone down on Adrian.

“Who’s that?” Adrian asked.

Angie replied that it was Mick Jagger.

He was instantly captivated.

The song was a live performance of Stuck in a Moment.

Angie went on to explain that he was the singer for the Rolling Stones. Adrian knows the Rolling Stones because they’re one, if not, our favourite band and we play their music quite a bit in the house and car.

Adrian stared at the computer screen and watched the video four times with Angie and then once with me.

Adrian: Daddy, Mick Jagger has a blue shirt.

Me: My son, you have discovered the greatest and coolest rock star ever.

Adrian: Yes. And he has a blue shirt.

It’s so cool to be part of a child’s discovery.

Mick Jagger. Not the colour blue.

A while later, I put the boys down to bed and began to read like I usually do. Adrian wasn’t all that interested in the story and instead felt obligated to inform me of his new found interest.

Mick Jagger wears a blue shirt.

He’s a singer, Daddy.

He’s a Rolling Stone, Daddy.

Me: Dude, you keep on learning about Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones. We can listen to them whenever you like. Would you like to know who’s in the band?

Adrian: Yes!

I took a few minutes to explain the Stones and Colin eagerly pitched in some info as well. Colin’s, who’s seven, is a fan, too.

The next morning my phone rang at work. It was Rica calling from home. Uh-Oh. What was going on? She rarely calls me at work.

I picked up the receiver and my immediate response to her was, “What did Adrian do?” When Rica does call me, it’s usually because Adrian has pushed his behaviour far enough to warrant a call to Daddy.

Surprisingly, there were no cries in the background and Rica seemed to be struggling with what she was required to ask of me (I could hear Adrian barking out orders to Rica).

Rica: I don’t know what Adrian wants, but he wants to see a man in a blue shirt?

I laughed.

I explained to Rica who the man in the blue shirt was and Rica repeated the name to Adrian. I helped her find the video over the phone and then I heard it playing in the background.

My little rocker!

I also asked her if I could say hello to Adrian and when she relayed my message he said, “No. I don’t want to talk to Daddy. I want to watch Mick Jagger.”

I laughed again and said goodbye to Rica.

I was cool with giving up some father and son time to Mick Jagger.

I need to smash my drums

Mummy, let me go play my drums!

Daddy, watch me beat the crap out of my drums!