I have a bit of a thing for father-son baseball experiences. So when I saw that Justin Verlander was pitching for Detroit this weekend against the Yankees, my mind immediately flashed back to a Friday night last spring.
Alex Rodriguez sat at 2,999 hits on a Friday morning with Verlander taking the mound. A-Rod hits Verlander hard: .344 in 32 career at-bats with five home runs. So on a few hours’ notice I bought two tickets for the game, mostly for my son, Nathan, who despite his father’s repeated exhortations loves A-Rod. (“Well, Jeter’s my favorite Yankee, but since he doesn’t play anymore, A-Rod is my favorite. He cheated but he learned his lesson and now he’s a really nice guy.” Sigh. How about Gardy?) Our anticipation was that by being opportunistic we might be able to see a bit of history.
What we hadn’t quite anticipated was barely having settled into our seats when Rodriguez turned on a first-pitch fastball and blasted a home run for hit number 3,000.
The hit came in the bottom of the first inning. (That’s Rodriguez at the plate behind Nate in the photo above, seconds before Verlander’s pitch.) It was what the crowd had come to see, and it made for an early peak to the game: the two men next to us literally said goodnight and left, their plans fulfilled. Nate and I stayed for the whole game, though, and even found some friends in the bleachers in the late innings. I brought home our souvenir popcorn bucket and affixed a ticket (a real one, picked up at will call) to the underside as a memento.
I still don’t like Alex Rodriguez, but I love having constructed this memory–from the hit to the homer to the very late night for a seven-year-old at the Stadium. So we’re good. Even if Nate still thinks A-Rod has three thousand homers, not hits. Go Yankees.
Upside-down matchbox cars
Homemade Lego Beyblades
Varous other Lego and Duplo assemblages
A rubber stamp
Board game pieces
His younger brother
Nate, holding an Elmo doll: “Eli, look! Who is this?”
Nate: “Who is this?”
Nate: “Say it one more time and you can have him.”
Nate: “Eli, who is this?”
Nate: “Right, Eli, very good! Here you go.”
Seems my work here is done.
Behold: the Fisher-Price Apptivity Case, a protective baby-friendly cover for your iPhone.
I’m a digital guy, have been since I got an Atari as a second-grader. I now have two kids that can’t help but see my TV set, laptop, iPad, iPhone, iPod. They think it’s fascinating and fun.
So I did what any responsible parent should do. I downloaded and tested some age-appropriate apps and let my older son explore. The iPad and iPhone are genius devices in their usability, with their clutter-free fascia and immersive interfaces. So now the gadget is teaching the boy animals, colors, shapes, letters, memory retention and matching, spatial relations, you name it. We also set up guidelines: no screens between breakfast and dinner, no YouTube (Thomas the Tank Engine snuff films! who knew?), you have to play out difficult boards and not quit things quickly, etc.
That boy is now 4 and is as digitally savvy as anyone his age. He’s also wicked good at memory matching games, he can write his letters in capitals and lowercase, and he plays sophisticated games like Flow, Trainyard and Rush Hour better than many adults. Heck, he figured out how to unlock the home screen at 21 months. And he still loves his real-world toys, crayons and books.
Done right, gadgets are as wondrously useful for young people as they are for adults.
My baby boy is 15 months and dying to play with the iPhone. Right now he only gets glimpses when his big brother is engaged. Soon enough, Eli, soon enough.
I’m having a lot of fun helping Nate learn to speak and watching him communicate. One of his more perplexing pronunciations is “lion,” which he learned perfectly, then switched to “liney.” So I figured we’d work on it.
“Nate, who’s that?” I said, pointing to his gold teddy-bear lion.
“Yes, but it’s not liney, that’s lion.”
“Nate, can you say lie?”
“Good! And how about yin?”
“Good good! Now say them together. Lie-yin.”
Nathan’s mother, meanwhile, has him hooked on her chocolate chip cookies. So we have all the important things covered.
Nathan is standing by a coffee table in a Martha’s Vineyard rental house playing with a stack of red and black coasters. Dad thinks this is a good time to work on his son’s language skills, and picks up a coaster of each color.
“Nathan, this is a red coaster. Can you say red?”
“Very good! And this is a black coaster. Can you say black?”
“Okay, so maybe we won’t say black.”
“Want to try again? This is the red one. Can you say red?”
“Right! And this is the black one. Can you say black?”
Nathan has figured out how to “answer” the phone, by putting it up to his ear. He does it with the home phone, with our iPhones … and, um, with the digital camera.
Which, if you think about it, isn’t really far off.