"Dadography" from Parents Express

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2010-03-27T10:36:00.001-07:00

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Aidan, 6, is smarter than Dad, 483

2010-03-24T13:22:00.000-07:00

I am happy to say that, unlike most parents, I can actually pinpoint the date on which Aidan surpassed his father in the area of brilliance. It was yesterday, March 23, and it happened after a long day for everyone.

Upon returning home, beaten by life, I encountered my son asleep on the couch. My wife told me he had been snoozing for about a half-hour and that her attempts to waken him had been unsuccessful. I went over to him, said hello quietly and brushed his hair. He made a groan that seemed to say, "If you don't get away from me right now, I am going to kill you."

We Kaye men are known for our violent, if not overly wordy, groans.

He turned over and went back to sleep. A few minutes later I tried again, only to be met with an identical experience. By the third time, I just knelt down next to him and whispered, "Do you want me to carry you upstairs?" To me surprise, he nodded and wheezed a tiny "yes."

I scooped him up and made my way upstairs. Since he is 6 and I am old and feeble, maneuvering the stairs was not as simple as I would have liked. The fact that I didn't bash his head into the wall, banister, window or door was remarkable.

We crept into his room and I gently put him on the bed. As I was about to make my getaway, a small but strong voice said, "My eyes are open, you know."

Nex thing I knew, we were on our way back downstairs. He was too fully awake to be in bed; heck, it was even still light outside. But his groans returned and I offered (for reasons I cannot fathom) to carry him downstairs on my back. He was happy to take that ride, and within minutes we were back where we began.

How this proves that Aidan is smarter than me is the mere fact that, based on a groan, I carried him all the way upstairs, gently and slowly so as to not wake him. He was evidently very much wide awake and was seeing all this as a big joke. Then, after the fraud was revealed, I offered to carry him back downstairs.

These are not the actions of a healthy mind. These are the actions of a father, head over heels in love with his child. And when that happens, and when the dad realizes how helpless he is over it, the child has won. The student has become the master.

Next time, I'm making sure the little monster is asleep. Where's my ibuprofen?

Bubble Plays Beatles' at The World Cafe

2010-02-21T11:30:00.000-08:00

For a while now, I've been including all the Peanut Butter & Jams' kids' concerts held almost every Saturday at World Cafe Live, on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania, in the calendar section of PARENTS EXPRESS. But it wasn't until my friend and coworker, Frank (the editor of Ticket, the entertainment section of 15 Montgomery Newspapers) asked me to write a story about the concert that i finally decided to go see one.

After all, it was Beatles' music, for cryin' out loud! Who wouldn't want to enjoy some John-Paul-George-Ringo tunes? And with so many Beatles' events happening (including "Rain" at the Kimmel Center), it was time to get Aidan, 6, deeply involved in the integral music. So far, he know a handful of their songs, but not nearly enough to be considered MY son.

I did the interview for Frank, talking to the very friendly and very cool Dave Foster (lead singer and Bubble co-founder) and that story can be found in the Ticket section of www.montgomerynews.com. Dave made me want to attend even more, mainly because he did the interview with a toddler yelling joyfully in the background, without Dave getting upset once.

So Wendy, Aidan and me, jumped in the car and went down to the concert. World Cafe Live - at 11 a.m. on a Saturday - is a fairly quiet place. But you can see that the joint must be a jumping good time other nights of the week. They have an eclectic concert schedule chock full of acts you probably don't know yet, but will. But then, they also have bigger names from the past that are sure to delight all comers.

As soon as we got downstairs, sat on the floor (yes, we all could stretch out on a clean, wood floor) the lights went off and the band came out. For more than an hour, it was a wonderful trip down memory lane. The band highlighted all the songs from "Revolver," a favorite record of mine, and did their versions wonderfully, adhering to the boys' versions. The sound was great, the music fun and lovely, and the sight of seeing so many children, babies and new parents laughing, singing and dancing was terrific. Aidan didn't want to leave until the last song was played, and that is a definite testament to the band and the Beatles.

If you get a chance, go to www.Bubbleland.com to learn more about Bubble, and be sure to go to World Cafe Live to see a great concert in a great venue. You'll go back again and again. Oh, and then rent "A Hard Day's Night." Aidan and I watched it the next morning and it was a silly, funny blast.

2009-11-22T11:09:00.000-08:00

With a child, there's something especially fun about introducing them to new things. Aidan, 5, loves new things, always trying to figure out what they do or mean, how they work, and what comes next. He does it with a smile and that infectious, earnest attitude that is cute in a child and annoying in an adult.

A few years back, They Might Be Giants (that fantastic band from my college years that never got its due) began putting out kids CDs. They had dabbled with kids' music for a while but now had created this music/video learning concept that married their imaginative sounds with some great animation. Of course, I bought whatever they came out with and excitedly looked forward to the next installment.

When Aidan started to get very interested in science a little while ago (he went out as a mad scientist for Halloween), I started looking for science-related kids' stuff for him. When I found that TMBG had just released an item called "Here Comes Science," I couldn't believe the luck. And then, when I found out they were coming to the Theatre of Living Arts in Philadelphia, I knew we were going to thier concert. I mean, we HAD to!

So that's where you could find us, November 21, at the TLA, crammed in with hundreds of other parents, grandparents, teachers and - of course, kids - jumping, singing, clapping and laughing along with this wonderful, smart band and their wonderful, smart music.

They even gave out stickers to the audience afterwards, and we got them handed to us by John Flansburgh! (We were looking for John Linnell, but he wasn't around just then.)

The long and the short of it is that, if you have a kid that loves music and learning, or just music...or just learning, go out and get any of the kids' music from They Might Be Giants - "Here Comes the ABCs," "Here Comes the 1, 2, 3s" or "Here Comes Science." The children will learn things (and you will, too) and everyone will love the music.

And if you ever get a chance to see them do their kids' concert, go. I mean it - just go. They are wonderful.

Me on the PTA

2009-09-23T08:36:00.000-07:00

I don't think my mother was ever on the PTA and I KNOW my father wasn't. Both were awfully busy when I was in school: my mom with work and college, my dad with work and with not being around. So all I knew about the PTA was what I saw on TV - "Harper Valley PTA" and such. (Yes, I am that old.)

So after Aidan began kindergarten a few weeks back, we saw a notice on the school calendar that the PTA was meeting on a Thursday night. Wendy couldn't do it, but my schedule was a little flexible that night so I thought I'd go. I didn't give it too much thought, thankfully, because I probably would have convinced myself not to go, and would have missed an enlightening experience.

The place was pretty packed when I got there and I stood around looking dopier than usual as I tried to figure out what to do. Everybody seemed to be talking to someone, or filling out their names on forms or appearing equally comfortable with what was expected. But all I could think of doing is walking around looking at things and smiling nervously at whoever would look at me.

Finally I saw someone I knew, a friend of my wife's, and went to say hello. I sat down near her and she started to explain what would happen - speeches, questions answered, calendar of events notices - and I began to feel more comfortable. Then I was tapped on the shoulder by another friend. Things were getting better. Then I saw someone else I knew, and another, and another. Any nervousness I might have been feeling went away. I was still only one of about four or five males in the room, but things seemed OK.

What followed was a series of quick speeches or updates from the president of the PTA, various officers and the school's principal and vice principal. There was a mention of someone named Sally Foster, but she turned out to be some kind of decorating product thingy (as I found out just before asking someone who Ms. Foster was and why everyone would want her).

I was especially made comfortable by the president of the PTA, a young mom who seemed to be very clear that parents today are terribly busy and that money is tight, so that we shouldn't feel obligated to come to every meeting or donate to every fund-raising sheet that came home with our children. She was also very appreciative that we were all there that night and that we were willing to hear her ideas and share our own. I think the fastest way to a person's schedule is through expressions of appreciation.

I honestly enjoyed the evening. It was nice to get a 21st century definition of the PTA and to meet so many interested parents. It was interesting to see that people - no matter how busy they are - want to contribute to their child's life. It was inspiring to hear the projects they had planned for the kids and how we could all play a role.

So I'll be going back to the PTA. I've already signed up for a project and am maintaining an email chat with the PTA president. I'm doing it because I want to, not because anyone is forcing or guilting me into it. I'm also doing it because I want Aidan, 5, to know how much I believe in education. By going to these meetings and getting involved, I hope he'll see his schooling as important, fun and integral to his life.

Me, on the PTA. Hee, hee, hee...

A Quick Chat with Cecily Tynan

2009-09-04T21:25:00.000-07:00

Today I had some fun, speaking with Philadelphia-area meteorologist Cecily Tynan. I had met Cecily through Facebook and we began a new friendship. We go to each other's homes, do each other's hair, talk about the healthcare crisis.

Wait...no, that's not it.

Actually, Cecily has been very cordial, not calling the police about me even once so far. Instead, she answers my questions, laughs at my jokes and shares all sorts of information about her life as a mom.

As normal and sweet as she is on TV, she is on the phone. Sure I'm a journalist writing a story about her, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with it. She is just genuine, laughing about her kids and beaming through the phone everytime she mentions her husband and children.

By her admission, her life is kind of normal. There are tasks to be done, discipline to be handed out and fun hugs to be embraced. She has her job to go to, her home to maintain and her family to love.

It was a fun time, talking to her.

Now, when is she going to invite my family over to go swimming?

Look for the full article about Cecily Tynan in next month's Parents Express magazine!

What time of year is it anyway?

2009-09-04T21:20:00.000-07:00

It's hot and I'm sweating. The flowers are drooping, the cats are drooping, our droopings are drooping. So what time of year is it? Why, time to get ready for Halloween, of course!

My son, Aidan, 5, loves Halloween. Well, "love" is kind of a weak word for it. Let me explain it thusly - for Aidan, there is no time that is not Halloween-y by its very existence. It is either just past Halloween, or on the way to next Halloween. Oh, well, there's that period of time when it is exactly Halloween, but that date is left open to interpretation...his.

So when we stopped by Michael's Craft Store and saw a few Halloween things lying about, the calendar shifted and summer was virtually at an end. By the time we got home with our $1.99 foam skeleton, costumes had been discussed - for this year and next - and plans were being percolated inside his little skull for a Haunted House unlike anything the world had ever seen.

To be fair, this wasn't his first Halloween jolt. A few months back he saw - oh I don't know - a bird, and that got him to obsessing about how it should be Halloween soon. Suddenly I am making paper ghosts, darkening my home office to make things scary and pretending to be terrified every time I saw the faint glow of a dying flashlight focused on a colored rubber pumpkin from last year.

So here it is August and I'm deep into Halloween territory. I suspect that the next 10 weeks will be chock full of booing and vampires and things that go bump in the night. Well, maybe until 12:01 a.m. November 1, when Christmas slams into the house.

Fame Comes Calling and We Answer

2009-08-06T12:04:00.000-07:00

If you want to pinpoint the moment at which you first realized that my son, Aidan, 5, was going to be a global phenom, it is right now, in this blog. If you also want to mark the moment at which you came to fully grasp the reality that I have absolutely no charisma or talent, it's here, too.

On a recent trip to Philadelphia's Please Touch Museum for a press preview of their theater program, my family (myself, wife Wendy and offspring Aidan) were asked by a local news crew to appear before the camera. I knew a few things right off the bat: Aidan would say "yes," but would then hide behind me, only to be lured back to the camera after much cajoling and manipulation; my wife would NOT want to appear on camera and would shoot me a terrified, debilitating and vicious glare; and I would spend the entire segment wondering how my advanced age and weight gain would translate to TV - especially in a high-def world.

I nailed all three.

Joey Fortman, the reporter from MyPHL-17's morning show "Better Philly" (and the new afternoon drive host on 97.5fm), approached us kindly and asked us a series of innocent questions, which we appreciated considering Aidan is just in preschool. Fun and comfortable, we answered easily. Then we did it again. And again. And again. And again. They needed several takes to make sure Aidan's quiet voice and "deer caught in headlights" look would register well. That and I think they were a little terrified of the fat, ancient geezer sitting to his left.

And even though I pursued Joey (as well as Please Touch's Frank Luzi) to nail down a broadcast time and whether Aidan would even appear in the piece, we dropped all discussion of it at home. You just don't want to tell a kid he might be on TV more than 3 seconds before the show airs. I could imagine the 135 million times I'd hear "When is it going to be on?" Wouldn't that be fun? Kill me.

When the show aired, I just switched on the TV and Aidan and I watched. He was excited because it was about Please Touch, and he loved seeing the areas and people from the museum he recognized. When he came onscreen, he just sat there for a second without any glimmer of recognition. And then he exploded in joy, screaming, "I'm on TV," before running and jumping around the house and pretty much missing the whole part where he appeared.

So here we are, mere hours after this magical moment happened. Needless to say, I have not been approached by any directors, producers or groupies. I haven't assembled a posse. I have turned away a few autographs, but they were all from sarcastic coworkers. I am starting to think I am not experiencing a life-changing moment.

The one thing I did come to understand is that - even though a kid can have his picture in an award-winning parenting publication every month - there is nothing like seeing yourself on TV. Besides, being dad's magazine is normal, but being on "Better Philly," that is the stuff of legends!

To see the piece, click on the link. (Just look for us about 1:30 into it) http://www.myphl17.com/videobeta/watch/?watch=158bd089-1a74-47a8-9769-705649d708ef&src=front

The First Tooth Goes and So Begins His Journey to Manhood

2009-07-30T10:51:00.000-07:00

Is there anything more important in a young man's life than the first time he loses a tooth? Well, I mean aside from his first time walking, talking, sleeping away from home, riding a bike, conducting the Royal Philharmonic, dating Madonna, etc.

For Aidan, 5, the moment he discovered his tooth was loose was wonderous and magical. He would wiggle it with his finger, push it with his tongue and show it to pretty much anyone who could stomach it. He would talk about it incessantly, asking what would happen when it came out, what if he lost it, how would the Tooth Fairy know where he lived, what would happen if she couldn't find it under his pillow, and on and on. In this, he was certainly a normal kid.

I remember when I would loose a tooth. It was fascinating and bizarre and seemed absolutely wrong and super cool all at once. Sometimes it hurt a little, but mostly it was just gross - so that made it awesome! It was also regarded as another step toward growing up. I was losing my "baby teeth," which meant I was no longer a baby. I was so excited about it, I regularly went to biker bars and pushed over as many motorcycles as I could, in the hope that someone would knock all my teeth out and I could speed jump into adolescence. I can tell you, it's not easy to push motorcycles over when you're 5, but the payoff would be tremendous.

Aidan spent the few "Wiggling Tooth Days" just being happy with the situation, and if you really think about it, that's odd. But even weirder than that, were the reaction he received from his peers. One little friend of his was absolutely crestfallen that Aidan could lose a tooth before she did. She cried about it and was obviously angry when the subject came up. I had to tell Aidan, "Now don't brag about your tooth being loose. You know that could hurt some kids' feelings."

I swear he looked at me with an expression that said, "Yeah, right. Whatever dude. Like I'm not going to talk and talk and talk about this. Heck, this is going on YouTube."

When the tooth came out, in the middle of a pool party, he skidded inside the host's house looking for me, soaking wet with a little blood in his mouth, holding the tooth like King Arthur held Excalibur, with the same look of delirious joy on his face. His voice, three octaves higher than usual, shook with delight.

When he returned to the party, all the kids were talking about their Tooth Fairy experiences. While the grownups told stories about getting dimes and quarters as prizes, one little girl explained how she was given $5 for her first tooth. Aidan looked at me wide-eyed with a bloody, semi-toothless grin that took over his head.

And knowing full well Aidan would not get more than $1, I told him the one thing every parent probably tells their excited, hopeful, ecstatic child. "Sorry buddy, I think the Tooth Fairy likes her a lot more than she likes you."

Will a Visit to the Please Touch Museum make Aidan a Star?

2009-07-28T11:45:00.000-07:00

This morning, Aidan, 5, his mom, Wendy, and I were invited down to one of Philadelphia's most wonderful kids' attractions, the Please Touch Museum, for a media day event. Since Aidan is always looking for an excuse to go down there (and I am always looking for an excuse to be a dopey 41-year-old kid), we leapt at the chance. It was a great roadtrip for the Kayes of Abington.

For those of you with children in your lives who have not gone to PTM, shame on you. PTM, now located in a magnificent Fairmount Park setting, is chock full o' good times. From the water area (Aidan's favorite) to the space section (my favorite), PTM keeps kids involved with everything. And it teaches them along the way, which is also a nice thing to do on a hot summer day.

The reason for the media day was to experience the newest installment of the Please Touch Playhouse theater for children. The show, "Getting There," an interactive, imaginative retelling of how modes of transportation came to be, was funny, well done and kept everyone's attention - even dopey 41-year-old kids.

Then, while we were admiring everything, we were approached by a TV news crew filming a story on the Playhouse series. Aidan was asked if he would be willing to talk on camera about it and (after a little cajoling) he agreed. It was great to meet the very nice Joey Fortman, a reporter from "Better Philly" (myphl17, weekdays at 8 a.m.) and Aidan was given the chance to tell the world how much he loves PTM and the series. (He really does. I am not kidding.)

Now, being that I am in the media (albeit far, far, far, far in the distance), I know the segment that hits the air might not include Aidan. better yet, the segment won't include me. But it was great for the museum, and its wonderful pr guru Frank Luzi, to get some much deserved praise.

If you have a chance, go see the museum. The kids will love it. And if you're smart, you'll get a membership (like we have). And if you're really, really smart, you'll contact "Better Philly" and beg them to put Aidan on TV.

Aquaman lives at our house

2009-07-25T20:29:00.000-07:00

Aidan, 5, has taken to water like, well, I was going to say a fish but that sounds a little too obvious. Let's say he has taken to it like a 5-year-old boy who loves to swim. Yes, that's far more witty.

As I continue the never-ending excitement that is "Learning All About Aidan," I have been delighted to find out how much the water means to him. At his camp, he swims twice a day and that is fantastic. He has two great teachers - Alex and Dan - who are young and full of mirth and craziness (just like Aidan likes it). His camp day is complete only when he has been tossed around the pool, gone underwater to touch the bottom, and has wound up absolutely exhausted. On the few days where there has been rain and the swimming curtailed, he is heartbroken. "Tomorrow," I tell him. "There's always tomorrow."

He has taken this love for swimming to his weekends, too, strongarming his grandparents to take him to his great-grandmother's pool. There he suns himself, swims for hours on end, and charms the heck out of 85-year-old women. He is funny and full of life, and I dare say, I think he makes some of the residents very, very happy.

When the family goes to a pool party, you better have Aidan's suit on him. Like a moth to the flame, he lunges poolside and is reluctant to exit until the car is running, the sun has gone down and he has been repeatedly threatened with a loss of nighttime books and songs.

I admit, I was not unlike the boy when I was a child. If there was a pool to be found, I was in it. I liked to sink to the bottom and push off, like Superman escaping Earth's gravity. I would dive for coins, attack friends with inflatables and fling myself off of diving boards.

Now, three decades later, I get to watch an insane nearly-4-foot-tall lunatic who does the same thing. And what am I doing? Jumping in beside him. After all, there are coins to be found, the children of friends to be attacked and diving boards to throw myself off of.

Hey, there's no way I can let Aidan have ALL the fun.

Aidan the Investigator

2009-07-23T06:26:00.000-07:00

Aidan, 5, is unbelievably curious. He needs to know how everything works and why things are the way they are. It doesn't matter the subject matter - buildings, cars, monkeys, the Gross National Product of Argentina - he is consumed with the idea that how something comes to be is of the utmost importance.

Yesterday, that took the form of the dismantling of an old portable heater. At 6 a.m., he and I found ourselves sitting on the floor of our very dirty, very messy basement, staring at said heater longingly. He wanted to see how it worked, why it had stopped working and what pieces were being hidden inside.

So we picked up several screwdrivers and a couple of pliers and went to town. It was like an old Bugs Bunny cartoon. There was a big ball of smoke and all you saw were various hands working feverishly. When we got to a particularly difficult part, I forcefully broke it apart - eliciting squeals of approval - so we could get to the treasure inside.

When it was done, all around us were torn wires, screws and bolts, long pieces of copper, bent metal and broken plastic. True, we didn't learn anything about how a heater worked or why this one broke, but we did see everything inside.

And then Aidan and I looked at each other, with sheepish grins, and he said what every dad wants to hear after such an experience.

"Daddy, that was AWESOME!"

Aidan, the investigator

2009-07-22T13:41:00.001-07:00

Better late than never

2009-07-17T14:06:00.000-07:00

There was a time when a monthly column was, well, monthly. But that was then and this is now and all that has come before has gone away, or changed, or been forgotten. Today, we stand on the edge of a technology that we should have embraced a long time ago - the blog.

For those of you parents out there who don't know what "blog" means, it is from the Latin "queritor," which means "to complain excessively, whine, gripe." Actually, it has nothing to do with that word. But that's what I'll be doing here.

My son, Aidan, is 5, and that pretty much speaks for itself when it comes to anxiety, stress, laughter, embarrassment and exhaustion. I am 41 years old, which also speaks for itself when it comes to anxiety, stress, laughter, embarrassment and exhaustion. He and I are pretty much perfect for each other: I have no idea why he does what he does, and he has no idea why I don't want him to do what he's doing.

I hope you'll share your confusion with me, and will pick up the free monthly magazine Parents Express, within which I have been sharing stories of Aidan in my "Dadography" column for the last six years. If nothing else, it will give you something to do while your child runs around the living room screaming for no apparent reason.