Blogging since 1998. By David Wertheimer

Category: nathan (Page 1 of 2)

My social media parenting journal

Way back in 2009, I had an idea: I wanted to post my young son’s utterances on Twitter.

At the time, Twitter was a fairly new service, and still open to experimentation. I wasn’t the first person to post his precocious kids’ quotes there, but it was a bit of a novelty nonetheless. I actually started a little too early to be social-media-level interesting; the first few tweets I posted were about individual words.

It wasn’t long, though, before my son got wordy, and clever, and hilarious. I kept grabbing my phone and jotting things down whenever he made me smile. I thought, at the time, that it’d be funny, maybe go viral a bit, or at least give my friends a laugh.

What I got instead was something different. The tweets stayed fun, but also started capturing the sweet, the poignant, and the magical. As he got older, it inadvertently started to chronicle not just his progress, but his personality.

I soon spun up a Twitter feed for my younger son, too, which captured his own distinct character, including his growth (for example, how he went from individual words to full sentences in a matter of weeks) and his own takes on the world.

And so it went, for years and years. My sons got increasingly sophisticated but no less quotable. And I kept tweeting. It got tougher as they got older–we try not to stare at our phones when we’re together as a family, and they didn’t always want to be recorded. But the feeds endured and grew, for more than a decade.

In recent months, I’ve realized we’ve basically outgrown it. My boys are too mature now, their humor contextual and nuanced, and no longer the stuff of pithy short-form text capture. (Indeed, they’re old enough to have their own social media feeds, should they want them.) But once in a while I’ll catch and record a gem. And as it stands, the archive is wonderful. The boys enjoy reading their own histories once in awhile, and each other’s, simply because it’s such a delightful way to revisit the past.

Alongside the photo albums, the videos and the mementos, my children’s Twitter feeds are, unexpectedly, one of the most cherished items of their formative years. 

Best of all, they’re easy to share: and Have fun exploring.

On baseball, parenting and memory

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.


Nate, holding an Elmo doll: “Eli, look! Who is this?”
Eli: “Elmuh.”
Nate: “Who is this?”
Eli: “Elmuh.”
Nate: “Say it one more time and you can have him.”
Eli: [blinks]
Nate: “Eli, who is this?”
Eli: “Elmuh!”
Nate: “Right, Eli, very good! Here you go.”
Seems my work here is done.

On LCD screens and parenting

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.

English as a first language

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.”

For the record

Father and son, originally uploaded by netwert.

I taught Nathan to say “Yankees” this weekend. (“Yangee!”) He recognizes the interlocking NY and gets that we have matching caps. Between this and his Shake Shack dinner, I’ve hit a new fatherly peak.

Nathan’s mother, meanwhile, has him hooked on her chocolate chip cookies. So we have all the important things covered.

Conversations with my 15-month-old

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?”
[blank stare]
“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?”

It’s all the same nowadays anyway

Nathan answering the cameraNathan 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.

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