After writing about Maurice Sendak and his work yesterday (You can read that editorial here), it inspired me to really think about what books I enjoy reading to my kids.
Oh, like my kids, I do have favorites… I also have the “opposite of favorite” books…
Am I the only parent who hides books they can’t stand to read again? Is that just me?
Anyway, here is my list of my 10 favorite books to read with my children: (more…)
Being a parent of young children has made me an expert in a few different, new, and exciting fields.
You need to talk about superheroes, I am your man. If you want to discuss which lullaby CDs are best, and more importantly, work, talk to me. Which TV shows for kids might actually educate your child, I’m an e-mail away. Also, if you want to know about Pixar, I have an altar for them in my house.
Well, maybe not a real altar, but it does feel that way sometimes. Of course, can you truly use the word altar to describe a state that seems to have taken over your whole house? From the toys on the ground to the boy dressed like Dash from The Incredibles.
In my house, simply put, we live Pixar films.
Heck, when I discovered I was going to be having a daughter, her first present from me was a talking Jessie doll. Looking back, I think I honestly made the purchase immediately after calling my family members.
Yet, my own personal love for Pixar goes beyond just the joy they give to my children. As a student of film and a writer, I respect them more than most filmmakers working today. I have yet to be disappointed by a Pixar film; and their weakest film is still far and away better than most exhaled from other studios for our children to consume (Alvin and the Chipmunks, how about The Smurfs, Shrek, etc.; I feel dirty just referencing these films in an editorial about the genius that is Pixar).
Here are three reasons why I am a fan, and would, quite honestly, sell my soul to work with them as a writer: (more…)
This was my end of the bargain.
My wife would have our two lovely children and when she was done I would go to the guillotine, as it were. I would be Sydney Carton from A Tale of Two Cities, with both hands tied behind my back being led to my destiny while reciting, “It is a far, far better thing I do…”
That sounds strangely noble in theory, but in actuality, I must admit, with the birth of our second child I had been avoiding this doctor trip like the plague. I had postponed the visit two different times (scheduling then rescheduling… twice), but after a year, I was running out of excuses for myself.
On the day of the appointment, I was freaking out. I tried to explain this to my wife, but, as sympathetic as she tried to be, she didn’t get it. And comparing it to what she had to experience in the birthing of our children, didn’t help. Yes, I am sure birth is a bigger life changing, panic-driven, and painful experience. But for a guy, this is something. Yes, it means something, and it’s not something that can be easily explained, it’s in the gut, it’s in the animal part of the brain. It is part of what defines us as male. Hear us roar!
I ended up making a quick excuse to run an errand, and then in a parking lot called one of my oldest friends to talk me down. I was the guy on the edge of the building preparing to jump, he was the understanding cop with the bullhorn explaining to me that I still will have a lot to live for.
I was going to be fine… I was going to be fine… I stepped away from the ledge. (more…)
Today, my daughter turns one.
It may seem selfish, but my kids’ birthdays always become a moment of reflection for me. They are milestones and milestones usually have that impact on a person, no matter if they want it or not. Yet, as first years go, this one seemed to speed past, leaving a soul wondering where all of the time went and why it had to go by so fast. Here are nine of my initial thoughts on her birthday and the last year…
1. I have heard that many say when your babies age, it makes a parent feel older. That has yet to be the case for me. Maybe I have a touch of the Peter Pan/young at heart thing going you see in the movies, but having kids has made me reclaim bits and pieces of my own youth. I wear brightly colored shoes now, I know all about superheroes, and I can read Fox in Socks incredibly fast. To be honest, I like being this guy, I like being a dad. In a way, it is a gift my kids gave to me… If that doesn’t sound too Hallmarky. (more…)
I am an entertainment parental snob. Which means, I am NOT about to just put anything on the TV to entertain my child like some parents do.
Yes, other parents I am silently judging you right now… OK, maybe not silently.
Oh, yes, there is a bar for me and children television, and I expect a show or movie to reach it; because, frankly, I want my kids to enter the world of the arts (books, movies, music, etc.) with an idea of what is aesthetically good and enriching, what is bad, and what is just generic noise. And, hopefully, in other words, I will have 12-year old kids someday who will consider books like Harry Potter over books like Twilight.
So even before my first child was born I had a list in my mind of starting points of what I was going to do my utmost to avoid; a partial list would include:
Thanks to the reaction to A Jane Austen Daydream, GreenSpotBlue.com, has chosen to publish a collection of my short stories entitled Upon The Ground.
Each Tuesday, for the next fourteen weeks, a new story will appear on their site which I will link to in a post (like this) and on a new page I will be creating for the book.
This collection contains some of my best writing, including today’s first entry, which I think is one of the best things I have every done, and may ever do. It is called “The Playground.” The story begins with a very flattering preface to the collection by Henry Williams, Executive Editor of GreenSpotBlue.com. After the jump is the first few paragraphs of “The Playground.” (more…)
This weekend, my daughter, who is about to turn one, said clearly her first word. It even came with a point of the finger for emphasis. “Dog.”
Dog…
I wouldn’t be so bitter about it, if it wasn’t for the fact that this is the second of my children to give this honor to our dog. Bronte (Yes, I am a writer with a dog named Bronte) is a border collie mix and does not have what I would consider the Hollywood-dog relationship with my kids. She is not running alongside them as they play throughout the day, with a waiting tennis ball in the mouth.
No, she is a herder and my children are her sheep. And Bronte’s day is spent laying in some corner of the room, watching the kids play out of the corner of her eye, ready to bark at any questionable passerby outside (or as she probably sees them- wolves). (more…)
Our time in high school haunts us. Some may brush off that idea (maybe pointing to college as more important), but a lot of who we develop into starts during those four years. We figure out things about ourselves then, to put it more simply, and later we fine tune it. Good or bad, that high school version of yourself still exists someplace inside your psyche, no matter how much you wish to deny it. Yes, the pimples are there still, but just under the surface now.
For me, I had a recurring dream that lasted for about five years after I graduated. In that dream, I am always in different locations (college classroom, my evening job, etc.) and my high school band director shows up in full marching band uniform (which is weird since he would never wear a uniform), screaming that there is an emergency and he is calling everyone back.
Recently, I have learned that my old school, Wyoming Park High School in Wyoming, Michigan, was going away. And upon hearing the news, I was flooded with memories around that old building. Remembering the days when I wore blue and white and proudly told kids from other schools that, yes, I was a Viking. (more…)
Ah, sweet nectar of the Gods!
What was life like before Coke Zero, and dare I even try to remember?
With two kids, early mornings, and a life that always feels like it is running and then suddenly asleep, Coke Zero has replaced the blood in my veins and my heartbeat now beats to the tempo of “I would like to teach the world to sing…”
This is my life force.
It wasn’t always like this. No, for a time I was off soda. Four months of semi-consciousness, bumping into walls, speaking incomplete sentences, losing words, forgetting to—I don’t know—wear socks. But thanks to my baby daughter’s teething, I was brought back into the fold and I am once again collecting My Coke Reward points like nobody’s business. Subscription to Entertainment Weekly? Nah, I’m hoping to earn enough points to take over their editorial staff (I have a strong opinion regarding their obsession around Twilight, reality shows, and Glee). (more…)
Recently, I’ve been listening to jazz a lot with my children. What can I say? It is like comfort food for me. I play it in the morning, around dinner time; it’s a Scott thing. Anyway, it got me thinking of an article I wrote a while back for Green Spot Blue (a literary parenting online magazine) about jazz and parenting.
In it, I recommend some records for the young listener and give some parental suggestions on how to listen to the music with the younglings.
Here is the beginning of the article:
As parents we all want the best for our kids, and our plans are filled with the best intentions. Many times this relates to music and our desire for our kids to know more than just what is on the pop stations. Some parents may try to listen to classical more, but for me I have always chosen jazz. Jazz, above all other music genres, seems to me to sing of creativity, the thrill of thinking outside the box. Songs are filled with experimentations, expressions. You feel love more, you feel pain more. There is a story there that surpasses any you may hear in the lyrics of a country song.
The problem is that many times when we parents sit back and look at our own musical choices, we can’t help but feel guilty. Usually it is the same artists, the same albums; we return to the comfort of what we like the most, not realizing that our child is hearing the same thing again… and again… and again….
Well, for the parent that wants to introduce their child to America’s great original artform, might I recommend 7 classical jazz albums to share with the family. Consider this an opportunity to lose The Wiggles, this is an introduction to jazz.
I go on in the article to recommend work by Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Louis Armstrong, Charles Mingus, and others. You can check out the article here.
I still stand by my anti-Wiggles statement.
The Stories of Scott D. Southard 