08 Jan

Dad and Buried Posted in Digression 2 comments

CES-capades: Part 1

Losing my Vegas virginity and my CES virginity on the same trip may not have been the best idea. There is a lot to take in.

Everything is just…big. Any by “everything” I mean the Strip, the conference itself, the casinos, the hotels, the crowds…the only thing that’s not big is the dividing line between the glamour of this town, artificial as it is, and the grunge that lies beneath, between and behind it. That line is razor-thin, as the walk from my hotel to the convention center made abundantly clear: from high-priced strip clubs to low-rent strip malls. But everything else? Big.

Of course, thanks to CES, that “everything” also includes the latest and greatest in technology, and I’ve seen a bunch of it.

The Boy Who Cried Gibberish

A few people have mentioned to Mom and Buried and me that Detective Munch has a good vocabulary for a kid his age. I don’t disagree, I mean, I’ve got him speaking jive, singing Christmas (and Beastie Boys) songs, and telling people “See ya later, alligator!” He can say some solid stuff.

Of course, he’s only two, so his vocabulary isn’t that good. Plus, a lot of the things he says are barely recognizable as English, and are probably only decipherable by me and Mom and Buried, if at all. And that so-called good vocabulary gets a lot worse when he’s distraught.

When he’s upset, whether it’s because he’s being a brat or because he got a boo-boo, words go out the window. Which can make solving – or even identifying – the problem quite tricky.

28 Nov

Dad and Buried Posted in Future 3 comments

Kids are Sponges

“Little kids are sponges.”

You hear it all the time, and it’s true. My son’s vocabulary increases every day, and most of what he’s learning he gets right from Mom and Dad, such as his first “curse” word, the relatively innocuous “dammit!” Needless to say, we’ve had to become a lot more careful about the words we use. It’s a bit of a pain.

But there’s a flip side to that coin. Sure, he parrots a lot of stuff we don’t even realize we’ve said around him, or don’t necessarily want him to be saying, but we can also train him to provide some entertainment. For example…

The “Kindness” of Southerners

I’ve been here almost two weeks now, and as I prepare for my first official Thanksgiving as a North Carolinian, I’ve decided that even if I can’t be expected to totally embrace my new surroundings, I can at least do my best to help my son acclimate.

After all, there are certainly some lessons he could learn from his fellow (gulp) Southerners.

Like their kindness. Or at least their courtesy.

19 Oct

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline No comments

Teach Impediment

The reality of being a dad has a way of completely upending your pre-parent expectations.

A few months ago, I wrote about looking forward to the “Rose Is Rose” portion of toddlerhood, in which my son would babble adorably and I’d be forced to puzzle out what he was saying. Like a sophisticated, more intelligent version of The Da Vinci Code (with much less Jesus but a much better vocabulary).

Unfortunately, it’s not difficult to decipher my sons favorite words, most of which revolve around refusing to eat things, refusing to do things and refusing to stop doing things. It’s not really that adorable.

The funny pages lied to me.

Dad and Buried

Category: Learning

CES-capades: Part 1

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The Boy Who Cried Gibberish

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Kids are Sponges

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The “Kindness” of Southerners

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Teach Impediment

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