If I Could Turn Back Time

I am a huge fan of Cher.

Not really but this title totally makes sense. I was asked by Jamie at Chosen Chaos to share a letter to my for 18 year old self. A letter offering myself some advice and a look into my own future. It's funny when you write things like this because you have no idea what made a difference in your life until you really sit down and do it. This originally appeared on her blog and she asked all of us that participated, to link up and share it with our own audience. If you want to read everyone else's, feel free to click on the link that follows my letter. Without further ado, I bring you my letter to myself.

Hey Buddy,

You don't know me, at least not yet anyway, but I certainly know you. I was you 20 years ago. Damn I don't like the sound of that, it makes me feel old. Anyway, you are so naive. Look at you, your 18 years old now and you haven't even been on an airplane. There is so much for you to find out about this world and in only five short years, you most certainly will.

You think you are all cool being on all of these Intramural Championship teams at college, but you have to stop. Nobody cares about your T shirts and they most certainly won't after you graduate from college. My first bit of advice is to ditch them right after you graduate and go and buy yourself some new clothes. Those shoes you are wearing, you will soon find out they most certainly DON'T impress the ladies. I know know Pumas go in and out of style but not with giant holes in them. There will be this girl in a couple of years that you will try to impress, and you can't get it done with those shoes. Oh while we are at it, DON'T go to Payless, it doesn't work that way. I tried.

Listen, if I was able to relive the time that you are in now, I wouldn't take it for granted. College is the best four years of your life and you will NEVER experience anything like that again. LIVE IT UP!!! Don't get me wrong we had fun, but it goes fast, savor it!

So I mentioned a girl. There is actually one that is going to start stalking you this year. Be afraid, she doesn't give up.

But I am not talking about that one, it's the one that is going to notice your footwear. You will cross her path the day before Easter 1996. THAT day is the day where you will finally start to live. No longer will your only thoughts be about sports, sportscenter, and anything sports related. It won't matter that you have no game with the ladies, something natural is going to happen. A relationship is going to blossom and you are going to have no idea what is going on. I'll let you in on a little secret, it's love. You are going to be friends for a couple of months, although your every waking minute is going to be spent with her, and then on her birthday your relationship will change. It's going to get deeper, more meaningful and magical. That sounds like a stupid term but I really have no other way to describe it.

Little Johnny, you will have found the girl you are going to marry.

I know it's only four short years away, but that is the amazing thing in life, anything can happen, JUST LIKE THAT. Oh you'll have your ups and downs with this girl like anything in life, but you will weather the storm and end up with two awesome kids.

Hard to believe huh? Here you are sitting in your dorm room trying to figure out how to use your Mac Classic and I am telling you from my iMac (it's like your computer on steroids) that you are going to be a dad. Some would consider you the worlds greatest dad, well at least two little kids will. By the way, Apple will go out of favor but trust me, you won't believe what they have cooked up for the future. Lets just say you can ditch that old Sega you and the boys spend countless hours playing hockey on.

A bit of advice with the kids thing though, don't go out and buy the Legos right away. Wait until your oldest is at least five. Trust me, I have a house full of them right now and I could kick myself for it. But I tell though, they make for great blog fodder.

What's a blog?

It's this thing on the internet, you know that thing with the dot com at the end of it? Well everyone writes there own little articles everyday telling the world how great they are and what a perfect parent they are. They are quite amazing. I have learned the most from people that don't seem to know what they are doing. Speaking of the internet, buy some stocks and then sell them before 2000. Trust me, you won't have to work a day in your life.

As for that airplane ride, your senior year you are going to Jamiaca. Congrats! Just a bit of warning though, you will smoke something that will make you think you are dead and then come back to life. You are not Jesus and you never will be. Don't start up with that nonsense. People will think you are nuts. Don't you even dare think that you will walk on water. It was pot, thats all, nothing else.

Don't be an idiot.

All the best,

The Ghost of Johnny Future.

John Willey - Daddy's in Charge?

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Oh to be 18 Again

What would I say to my 18 year old self?

Obviously that is a very difficult question.  You don't want to give too much away, but you don't want to leave your 18 year old self just hanging out there with no guidance.  Part of the fun of life is that you just never know what is going to happen next.  Around the next corner could be something awesome, or something scary.

Well I was given the chance to speak to my former self on someone else's blog!

Jamie Walker has given me the opportunity to try and speak some sense into young Johnny at her blog Chosen Chaos.  She has a whole series of bloggers that spew their wisdom to their younger selves, it's really a cool idea.

So today that's where I will be, trying to knock some sense into that thick head of mine.

Click RIGHT HERE to see what I have to say.

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You can follow Jamie's Blog on Facebook or Twitter... Check it out!

John Willey - Daddy's in Charge?

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Out of My League

Baseball has always been my favorite sport.

I longed for the day when my kids finally were old enough to play in Little League.  Since I missed the registration deadline last year, this is the first year where they are finally hitting the diamond.  I have to say that the league that we are in has been great so far. Both boys have gotten the opportunity to play and they both really seem to enjoy it. Right now the league is stressing fun and fundamentals and since it's your typical instructional league, there are no politics involved.

Politics?  In kids sports?

I fortunately have not seen it yet, but I know it exists.  There will be a time when they have the opportunity to take their games to the next level and this is where politics comes into play.  Since I haven't experienced it yet, I thought that I would let an old college pal who's currently juggling parenting, marriage, work and coaching explain what is going on on baseball diamonds all across the country. Enjoy this guest post.

Out of My League 
By Dresden Wolf*

When my son started playing organized baseball two years ago, he was six years old and the emphasis was on fun and fundamentals. As parents, we were happy when they’d hit the ball without knocking the tee over, or run around the bases in the right direction (yes, we had a couple who tried to steal 3rd …from home). Hell, we didn’t even officially keep score.

But as the seasons went on, tee ball gave way to coach pitch, and coach pitch to machine pitch. In that time, a funny thing happened. My son and a few of his buddies got very good at baseball (pause to pat myself on the back as coach – ha ha ha), and the emphasis shifted. Now, it’s more like baseball. We not only keep score, but offensive and defensive stats. They’re eating sunflower seeds in the dugout. Kids SHIFT FOR LEFTIES. This shit just got real.

All of a sudden, everyone is scouting other teams, bailing to join travel teams, and our own house all-star process is worthy of an Aaron Sorkin screenplay. (Although I still don’t speak quickly enough to deliver the lines in one.)

I sigh and change the channel when I see “Pageant Kids” or “Dance Moms” or “I’m gonna grow up and have all kinds of issues because you started putting me in makeup and heels when I was 18 months old,” but I look around, and sports are no different. There are cliques, kids taking private lessons from coaches they won’t share. And everyone is jockeying to get on the “best” team with the best coach. Every playdate or schoolyard run-in is a chance to ask what team your kid is on, and if they’ve heard about the neighboring community’s travel team. There’s always rumbling about how competitive your league is (or isn’t). And everyone thinks they have an in because they know someone on “the board.”

As a friend said, “as long as the parents are involved, it’s always political.”

Back to my point. At the lowest competitive level, we’ve got 9U (the u is for “and under”) and 8U all-star squads. So, as you might imagine, many of the talented 8-year-olds try out for both. Where it gets sticky is when those 8-year-olds all get drafted by the 9U squad, leaving the 8U team with the less talented 8’s, as well as all the younger kids.

Having been to the tournaments these kids play in, an 8U squad of mediocre talent and a bunch 7-year-olds, no matter how good those 7-year-olds are, will get CREAMED. The other teams are huge. Like, “show me the birth certificates” huge. Then the kids will be discouraged, the parents will be sad, and the coaches (and the league) get blamed for setting the kids up to fail. On the flipside, a 9U team with a bunch of 8-year-olds will ALSO get creamed. BUT, everyone believes that “playing up” will get their kids a baseball scholarship (which coincidentally averages $5K, even at big baseball schools) and eventually into the MLB. But there’s a difference between playing with older kids and having your asses kicked by them.

So, is it better to be a big fish in a small pond? Or the smallest fish in a big pond? Personally I think being a goldfish in a plastic bag at a carnival is the worst, but that’s not relevant to this discussion. At the end of the day, I want my son to feel good about himself for being good at something among kids his own age. He’s got the rest of his life to compete with older guys for girls, jobs, social security checks, whatever.

Anyway, the opportunity to choose between the teams puts parents in a position to negotiate. And this is where it gets fun. Not.

So as the clock ticks on draft day (35 hours and counting), I find myself pouring over rosters, checking birthdates, and planning to call parents as late as 10PM on a Tuesday, trying to convince them to “play down” with the 8s instead of playing up with the 9s. Some have already asked “what’s in it for them.” Uhm, baseball…a uniform…a few nice days outside this summer? Some want guaranteed playing time, to only play a certain position, to bat ahead of (insert name here), or for their kid to be named team captain.

They’re EIGHT.

EIGHT. YEARS. OLD.

I joke a little, but I legitimately fear that the next call will be one asking for cash considerations or an actual contract.

Crazy, isn’t it? But in a world where kids get trophies just for showing up, and think they’re the best at everything, this sense of entitlement is not surprising.

But at the end of the day, the kids want to play. And at this age, they want to win, no matter what mamby-pamby, kumbaya, politically correct crap we’re supposed to be subscribing to. I still believe that kids’ sports should be fun, but anyone who’s ever competed with an 8-year-old boy will tell you, winning IS fun to them. So, we do what we can to put them in a position to win – or at the very least, compete. Because losing 24-2 because you’re out of your league stings a lot more than losing 6-5 to a team you can hang with. (I’ve done both.)

But if you’re a parent who cares more about telling people that seven-year-old Johnny “played ball with kids two years older than him,” than Johnny actually having fun playing, I don’t know what to tell you.

Ugh. I think I had a point, but now I’ve got a call from an agent on line two. (Insert touching conclusion that includes the phrase “for the love of the game.”)
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*To protect the parties involved, mainly the kids, Dresden Wolf is not his real name.

John Willey - Daddy's in Charge?

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The Anthem

It's not too often that you get your own theme song.  I mean seriously, can you announce to people that you have a song?  Well, I do!  Thanks to James at Edudad.com I can rock out all day to my very own song!

When I was in college, there was a band called Sons of Papaya that wrote a song about me.  I happened to run into the drummer in the stairwell one night after a long night of drinking milk and eating cookies.*  He started to repeat my name over and over, and when his band go together they started jamming to my name.  The song "Cabin Fever" was born.  I think its about a guy named John Willey (that's me) who runs into some sort of child predator, but the point of the song isn't the important thing, I HAD A SONG!

And so it happened again, this time because I have a blog and I play with Legos.  Thank you James for this:

I think he has promised a song to everyone he knows so you should definitely go and follow James on Twitter or Facebook.

*It was college, draw your own conclusions

John Willey - Daddy's in Charge?

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Guest Post From Daddy Knows Less

Today we are having our first ever guest post here at Daddy's in Charge?  I am honored to introduce you to Justin from Daddy Knows Less.  I was fortunate to work with him many years ago at my old job in television.  That was back before I had kids and my sanity was still intact.    For those that don't know Justin, I feel he has a tremendous ability to tell a story and his blog is one that I truly enjoy.  Without further ado, I bring you Daddy Knows Less.

I Can't Get Used to This

"My brain is like oatmeal. I yelled at Kenny today for coloring outside the lines! Megan and I are starting to watch the same TV shows, and I'm liking them! I'm losing it." -Jack Butler, Mr. Mom

I don't know why stay-at-home dads like John complain so much. Complain about their kids not eating. Complain about the not listening. Complain about all of the housework. If you ask me, stay-at-home dads have it pretty darn good.

Or so I thought after I took two days off just for myself in mid-July. My wife was at work. The Peanut (my 4 year-old daughter) was at daycare. I had the house to myself. I went for a run, I got errands done, I completed some projects around the house.

And those were just the mornings. In the afternoon, I made Starbucks my hangout and I got a lot of writing done. "This is the life," I thought to myself.

My wife thought the same thing, even though she was working. As I dropped her off at the train station for a second straight morning, she said, "I can get used to this."

I bet she can. Me too. But in reality, we both need to work. We both want to work. And even if I were a stay-at-home dad, the Peanut wouldn't be in full-time daycare. Half day? Sure.

I look back on those two days fondly. I was busy. I got a lot done. And I still cooked fresh meals both days. And it was relaxing.

That was not the case two other days later in the month. When it was just me and the Peanut. We try to keep her out of daycare enough to save a month's worth of costs during summer. And if we're not on vacation, I take off from work to be with her.

Laundry with her used to be fun

On the first day, we were leaving for a quick family vacation when my wife got home from work. I remember looking at the clock at one point in the morning. It read just 8:30am. I was knee deep in laundry (needed for the trip). The Peanut hadn't eaten anything (she "wasn't hungry"). Hell the dog hadn't even peed.

Serenity now.

I quickly tweeted my angst and almost immediately, John answered. Stay-at-home dad extraordinaire. "Run errands," he suggested. Oh, I've got errands. We're going to IKEA. Big mistake. The whole IKEA experience with the Peanut deserved its own blog post. 

Two things I'm learning about being a stay-at-home dad: First, there's a lot of watching the clock. They're like football coaches running a two-minute offense at the end of the half. Budgeting their time and their time outs.

Second, you need a plan. You need activities for pretty much every minute of the day. We did this when she was a baby. How come we don't do this anymore? When did we lose control?

Peanut had a fan on the jungle gym

On my second stay-at-home day, I did have a plan. We ate breakfast and went to the playground. I followed the Peanut on each piece of equipment, and noticed a little boy who couldn't have been more than eighteen months old was all by himself on one of the slides. I said out loud, "I bet your parents are paying someone a lot of money not to watch you on the playground." Then I noticed another little boy knock over a girl whose mother was busy talking on her cell phone. The boy's mother was mortified. I said, "That may not have happened if she wasn't talking on the phone."

I realized then I would make very few friends at the playground if I were a stay-at-home dad.

We came back for lunch, and I was going to take the Peanut to see the Jets at training camp. (She is a Giants fan because her favorite color is blue. I'm doing what I can to subtly influence her opinion.) But they moved practice inside because of thunderstorms. Crap.

We played a lot of princesses

I had no backup plan. So we played princesses. We watched Cinderella. We watched the same freakin' episode of Strawberry Shortcake on Netflix three times. I was going a little insane. At 4pm I called my wife at work. "Any chance you're coming home early?" Nope.

She then told me if I didn't let her off the phone she wouldn't get her work done in time to leave.

"Well, is your assistant there? Does she want to talk to me?" (Often when I call, my wife's assistant will pick up and we will strike up a conversation. I've never met her in person.)

"No, she's not at her desk," my wife told me. "You're really struggling for some adult conversation, aren't you?"

Yes. Yes I am.

"You'd never make it as a stay-at-home dad."

No... I wouldn't. This is why I think John is himself slowly going insane. And why I enjoy reading his blog.

This is why I can't wait to go back to my high-pressure, deadline-filled, demanding job in television news. So I can relax.

Thanks so much Justin!  It's nice to know that you finally understands what it's like to be me.  At least my job anyway.  If you would like more of DKL you can follow him on Twitter or Facebook, or just go to his blog for all the good stuff, Daddyknowsless.blogspot.com.  Tomorrow I will be appearing on his site, at least my lego guy will be.  Stay tuned for that!

John Willey - Daddy's in Charge?

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