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(Reprinted from The Richmond Daily Journal, April 2, 2006)
NASCAR marketing to (very) young fans
I didn't believe it a few years ago when I heard it for the first time, but it's true -- NASCAR is the fastest growing sport in America.
Just ask my son.
Last weekend, I was marveling at the upset wim by George Mason over Connecticut and settling in to watch Florida take on Villanova. At some point in the opening minutes of that game, the channel changed to Fox, which was showing the Nextel Cup race.
I turned to find Hunter, who at 2 years old has mastered many small devices, holding the remote gleefully.
Usually, if Hunter is going to assert himself for the television, he goes for Sprout, the 24-hour PBS kids cartoon network. He knows all the characters, too, so don't try to turn off whatever he is watching, or he will plead with that character's name until he is back on the screen. He'll also expect an apology.
Back to the story. So, this time, no cartoons, he's got NASCAR on, and I ask politely if I can have the "mote" back (what adults call the remote), and he refuses. I remind him that Daddy wants to watch the Gators play basketball in the tournament, and this means jack to him, obviously.
Finally, he points at the television and says jubilantly - "Race cars!"
While glad that he is smart enough to make that assessment, I was still anxious to get back to the hoops. I said, "Yes, Hunter, race cars, that's pretty neat. Want to watch basketball?"
Now, in the past, he has shown some interest in watching basketball with me. In fact, when he was an infant, he was crying one afternoon uncontrollably until I parked his bouncer in front of the television and put on the Big East basketball tournament. He was enthralled and quiet for an hour solid.
This time, though, no deal.
"Race cars!" he said again with a smile on his face.
I sat back and watched, and he really seemed interested in watching the cars. He threw in some "vroom vroom" sounds and continued to be spellbound.
After humoring him a little more, I thought maybe I could use reverse psychology. Perhaps I could make him forget the race by showing him his beloved cartoons.
Shockingly, when I turned on the cartoons, he cried for the race cars to return.
I quickly complied, and I was starting to run out of ideas. I was basically down to waiting until this child of the no-attention-span 21st century got sick of the race and moved on to some non-television event.
That actually took a while, but it did eventually work, at which time I returned to find Florida already leading by eight points.
Hunter came in a few more times asking for the race cars, but I was kind of watching the race during commercials anyway, so I was able to find the balance between the two events to keep us both happy.
Fast forward to Saturday at Wal-Mart, when Hunter was picking out a Kid Cuisine frozen dinner.
I got him the one with the chicken nuggets that he likes so much, but I was quickly informed that I picked the wrong meal.
"Race cars!" Hunter said again, leaving me puzzled.
It took my wife pointing out to me that there is a special meal that has chicken nuggets shaped like race cars. There is even a macaroni and cheese meal for kids that has noodles shaped like race cars.
Again, this is all he would accept.
I guess he is a true child of North Carolina, the home of NASCAR's long history, and soon, its Hall of Fame. I suppose I'd better block off some time in a couple of years to take him over to Charlotte to see the new museum when it opens.
Who knows? By then, he may know the drivers by name, but I've got to work with him some more on his hoops, too.
Contact sports editor Matthew Osborne at 997-3111, ext. 14; e-mail [email protected]
(Reprinted from The Graham Star, March 10, 2005)
'Hunter the Cable Guy' and other tales
It is fascinating to watch your child learn new things. With my son, you can tell when he has figured something out.
He gives that wry smile like he is a first-time poker player holding a full house. He looks at you without using any words and says �OK, Daddy, what do I get to learn next?� Sometimes it is difficult to stay a step ahead of him, but we are giving it our best shot.
* A couple of weeks ago, Hunter discovered something about television remote controls. Sure, he had always liked to pick them up and play with them, but he recently found out what they actually do.
Now when Hunter gets his hands on the clicker, he points it toward the TV and starts pushing buttons. If it doesn�t have any effect on the program, he gets very upset, which eliminated the idea of giving him an old, useless remote to play with.
One afternoon, Hunter took the remote and somehow deprogrammed it so that it did not work. In fact, he deprogrammed the entire satellite box somehow, so I had to unplug it and call the company to get them to help me reset it.
Amazingly, Hunter froze the television on some obscure demo station that allowed you to watch six kiddie stations at once.
The woman on the phone had to go through several solutions before we found the one that would bring our television service back. She asked me how I thought this happened, and I told her that my son deprogrammed it. Then she asked me how old my son was.
�14 months,� I replied. She was at least a little impressed.
Lately, I have been calling him �Hunter the Cable Guy.�
* At the door to Hunter�s room, we put up a gate that allows him to play in his room without getting out into the rest of the house where he can cause damage. The gate is opened by pushing your foot down on a pedal and pushing the door.
Hunter knew how to close the door from the very start, since one of his favorite things is opening and closing doors. The gate is designed, though, so babies cannot open them.
Now, I won�t tell you that Hunter can open his gate, but I will tell you that if he had the strength, he could. Hunter was recently caught stamping his foot on the pedal, but he could not muster enough force to get the gate open. Somehow, I don�t think it will be long before he does.
* On the topic of opening doors, Hunter has known for a while how to get into my den, even if the door is shut. He can open latch-style door handles pretty well, and I had to put an extra latch on the door to keep him from trashing all my stuff.
We even call him �Hunter Boggs,� because we believe he will go in there to sign his own name on one of my autographed baseballs and present it to me one day.
* Hunter has recently started eating what we call �big-boy food,� which has included pasta, rice, vegetables, french fries, crackers and anything else he could chew up
properly.
One day, I was feeding him a plate of baked ziti, and he seemed to be enjoying it. When he finished the plate, I got up to wash the dish off, and he looked at me with that sad, pre-crying expression. He cried until I brought him more ziti, and he put away quite a bit of pasta for a small baby. That must be hereditary.
* Hunter has figured out that you can talk to people on the phone, but he holds the phone backwards. He holds it upside down and behind his head, and then he begins to speak his own form of gibberish into the wrong end. When he tires of that, he pushes buttons until he hangs up on the person. Maybe I should let him answer the telemarketers.
* The biggest lesson Hunter is working on now is walking. Some kids he knows walked sooner than him, prompting us to worry that we were doing something in teaching him. But he is coming along pretty well now. He showed us over the weekend that he likes walking on carpet, as he was shooshing all over his Pops� house.
Our house has mostly wood floors, but he is starting to walk there as well. It is just a matter of continuing to gain confidence now. Soon, he will be running all over the place, or so they tell me.
These are the fun days of watching a child learn to understand his world. Let�s hope the joy of these small lessons lasts longer than I expect it will.
(Reprinted from The Graham Star, May 6, 2004)
Hunter lucky to have a great mommy
For a while, Dec. 4 was a peaceful winter day in the mountains.
About halfway through the day, things changed � especially for my wife.
Samantha is one of the strongest people I know, and for all the time I have known her, there has been nary a situation she could not handle. On this day, of course, a doctor looked her in the eyes and gave her bad news.
It is not easy for anyone � even someone strong � to hear that her baby is in trouble.
Time was working against us, and after the doctor explained that a C-section was by far our best option, he left us to talk about our decision.
Of course, since the baby would likely not make it otherwise, there was no �decision� to be made. Sam knew what had to be done, as I did, and she was understandably just as frightened by the entire ordeal as I was.
Something happened, though. She looked through the tears at me and gave me the feeling that she would go through whatever it took to help our baby. I tried to assure her that everything would be OK, but it some ways, her look assured me.
On the way to the operating room, she was nervous, but she still held on to that inner strength. Her sense of humor was certainly still around, as she found a moment to smile at me wearing scrubs and looking rather ridiculous at that.
When they finally let me into the room, the operation was already well under way.
Sam was laying there, unfazed by the team working frantically to bring our son into the world. It was as if she took the advice from her favorite movie, The Wizard of Oz � �Pay no attention to that man behind the
curtain.�
By the time I held her hand, Hunter was out, and he gave us all a look of disbelief, as if to say �Who the heck are you people?� He went to the table to be cleaned and bundled, and he made a point to cry his way through that.
Soon, though, the crying stopped, because Hunter got to see his mommy for the first time. That was the first time our son smiled. Even though Sam was exhausted and still could not move, she smiled back and said �Hi, there, little guy.�
Over the last five months, Sam and Hunter have been an inseparable pair. Hunter helps his mommy deliver her Avon products, and she spends the better part of her days taking care of his many needs. She has taken time to read books and get every parenting tip she can find to make his life better. She has kept up with Hunter�s doctor appointments and driven him to Bryson City for every one of them. She reads him stories and plays classical music to stimulate his mind.
I love spending time with Hunter, but with my busy work schedule, that is 40-plus fewer hours per week that I have to help enrich his life.
Sam has made sure Hunter gets all the love and attention he deserves while I am gone, and when we are together, the three of us are as happy as we could be.
I am blessed with the most wonderful family in the world, and that would never have been possible without Samantha, who has shown that she will be a wonderful mommy for Hunter every day of his life. He is a very lucky little boy to have a mommy who loves him so much.
Happy Mother�s Day, Samantha. Hunter and I look forward to a lifetime of celebrating this special day.
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(Reprinted from The Graham Star, April 15, 2004)
Sporting lineage takes a U-turn
Over the Easter weekend, as family members ogled my infant son and told us repeatedly how cute he is, one theme was constant.
�This little guy is going to be a sports nut,� many of our relatives pointed out.
They are stating the obvious, of course, as anyone who knows me can attest. Fathers have brought up their sons to share sports with them for generations, and this time will be no different.
My dad hooked me on sports early and I never looked back. I think sports are a great way for fathers and sons to bond, particularly if they grow up liking the same ball clubs.
Unlike some father-son duos, my dad and I do not like all of the same teams, but there are some that we share.
As for the others, we take the time to duke it out over who is the best, and that has its charm as well.
I see Hunter as a blank canvas in the world of sports allegiances. I figure he will grow up and �do like his daddy done,� as Bruce Springsteen said.
The most important lineage passed through our family is our Philadelphia heritage. One would think it was an easy slam dunk for Hunter to love our Philadelphia teams as we do, but alas, something stands in the way.
Normally, your only competition for your son�s eventual sports team choice would be overblown media hype, but Hunter�s Philly heritage has a more powerful foe � his mommy.
The one guiding principle Dad taught me was that New York area teams were the sworn enemy of Philly teams. Then here I go and enter into what folks in the Northeast would call a �mixed marriage.�
Sam is proud to be from New Jersey, home of Bon Jovi, Tony Soprano and a whole lot of landfills. The pride of the Garden State is the New Jersey Devils, three-time Stanley Cup champions of the National Hockey League � and without a doubt, the greatest rival of the Philadelphia Flyers.
The Devils have dominated the Flyers at this time for more than a decade, and Sam has reveled in it since I have known her.
Now, she seeks to turn the baby on to her sporting heritage, a clear threat to our family line of Flyers
maniacs.
One might think she is doing Hunter a favor. All I seem to get from the Flyers is heartache when they blow a big game, but it is not about winning. It�s about sharing something with my son that my father, uncles, cousins and many friends have enjoyed for years.
Last Monday night, all three of us sat down to watch the Flyers and Devils face off in another springtime playoff series.
As the Devils began to pull into the lead, Sam celebrated and got some big smiles out of Hunter.
�Aren�t you happy the Devils are winning, Hunter?� she would ask in that happy, baby-talk voice that always gets him to laugh. I pointed out that he would do the same if the Flyers were winning, but results of that test were inconclusive.
As the game wound down, Hunter was sitting on the couch and cuddled up to me. It was almost as if to say, �It�s OK, Daddy. I know your team lost, but I still love you.�
That certainly made me feel better about the whole thing.
It is far too early to tell which teams he will grow up rooting for, but with parents into sports like we are, we will certainly have a hobby we can all share as a family.
That is something every father would wish for � win, lose or draw.
(Reprinted from The Graham Star, Jan. 29, 2004)
Hunter already trying to grow up too fast
Before you have a child, you end up reading scores of books about how the child will behave, how you should take care of him, etc. Many times, these texts will include a timeline of when babies should roll over, crawl, walk, talk, and so on.
Based on these figures, I am starting to think my son might be a prodigy.
It all started the day he was born. Once all the shouting was over and we knew everyone was OK, we took the chance to breathe it all in and just enjoy our new baby. As I was holding him, I took extra special care to make sure his neck was stabilized, since that is one of the most highlighted tips in the baby books.
A strange thing was happening, though. He was moving his head and neck around all over the place, looking at his surroundings and trying to figure out just what the heck was going on.
When one of the nurses came in, she remarked that he �wasn�t supposed to be able to do that yet.� Not being a doctor myself, I had no clue how he was doing it, but it sure impressed the people at the hospital.
Hunter also showed off his early muscle strength, as he kicked his way all over the little plastic bed provided him by the hospital. His grip was impressive, too, as he even grabbed my finger about 10 minutes after being born.
The latest step in this evolution is his sleep patterns, which at my last column on the topic, he was basically staying up all night. The books tell us that he will need regular late-night feedings until at least his seventh month and that he will not sleep long hours until then or later.
Lately, the baby has been fussier during the day, but we are reaping some of the rewards at night. It seems the Sandman has finally found our house to pay him a visit.
Last Saturday night, Sam and I were up late, waiting for the baby to wake up for his scheduled 12:30 a.m. feeding. When that didn�t happen, we waited some more, and after listening to music and shooting the breeze until 2 a.m., he was still out. At this point, we realized that we had better get our sleep while the getting was good.
Amazingly, Hunter did not wake up until 4:45 a.m.
I was shocked when I looked at the clock, as this was the longest he had ever slept at one time (6 1/2 hours). As one would expect, he woke up hungry as a bear, and I promptly gave him his long overdue feeding.
After he ate and got a change of diaper, we both fell asleep again, and this time, it was 10:30 a.m. before I woke up � and Hunter was still out.
I fed him again and thought to myself that this is too good to be true, but the next night, he slept quite a bit again. If this lasts, he will be at least five months ahead of the so-called experts� schedule for babies to actually sleep. That�s IF it lasts.
Hunter has proven he can roll over from his belly to his back, but he has yet to master it the other way. He is trying, though, and like his father, he gets easily frustrated if he cannot master something right away.
It�s the same situation with crawling. Hunter is too young to be crawling � in theory � but that has not stopped him from trying. Again, when he cannot do it, it ticks him off to no end. You can tell he wants to move around and explore, and at his current pace, he will soon enough.
People say that your kids grow up too fast, and that it�s gone before you know it. The way things have gone so far, I am waiting for him to walk right up to me and ask to borrow the car.
Things returned to some normalcy on Monday night, as Hunter was quick to wake up and cry for his meals again. While it was a hinder to my sleep schedule, it was somewhat comforting that he is not ready to grow up just yet.
Watching him grow and learn will no doubt be a blessed experience, but just don�t make it too quick, son. We are plenty happy to take our time and enjoy the ride.
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(Reprinted from The Graham Star, Dec. 18, 2003)
Catching some late movies with my son
If I had not come to work Monday, I might not have known what day it was. Such is the plight of the brand new father.
My son�s first week at home was an educational one to be sure, and I was immediately forced into a routine my body was not ready for. The mind and heart were willing, of course, but my inner clock needed a major resetting.
I have been known to stay up ridiculously late every now and then, whether it�s hanging out with friends, watching late night Laker games or playing video games way too late into the night.
You can do that on occasion and get yourself back on track with some ease, but try doing it every night. Not even some of my craziest friends keep those hours.
Hunter is the only one with that kind of schedule.
I used to work nights at a daily newspaper, and it was difficult to change my sleep clock back over to getting up in the morning. It took me a few months to get back in the swing of the normal work day, but that was nothing compared to this.
Hunter loves to sleep in the daytime, which so far has granted us blissful peace and quiet while the sun is up. The later it gets, though, the crankier he gets.
On average, he needs at least two late-night feedings, so one of us has to be up for that in any case. But feeding, changing and rocking him back to sleep combine for a minimum one hour process, and that is if he cooperates.
Once he is out cold, we place him gently in his crib and hope that he will enjoy the same blissful sleep we are seeking. Sometimes, though, he just doesn�t feel like sleeping, and it�s back to the drawing board.
Sometimes he would fall right asleep once he gets in Daddy or Mommy�s arms, but other times he was just plain fussy and unrelenting. At those times, we just had to wait it out, trying to calm him and hoping he would tire himself out.
When he was quiet, but awake, I attempted to entertain him with a variety of music and DVDs.
A few nights ago, we both fell asleep while watching The Lord of the Rings, proving the film�s tranquilizing effects. The next night, it was Undercover Brother, but the result was the same. The long journey that was a night with the baby always seemed to end with the two of us asleep in the den, the credits rolling on a movie we half watched and the birds chirping the first signs of sunrise outside.
I have been telling people that I am on the �Da Vinci sleep,� deriving the term from an episode of Seinfeld in which Kramer claimed he could sleep 20 minutes every three hours and live the equivalent of 25 extra years. Before long, Kramer was unable to keep up the pace, and I am finding similar results.
My last good night�s sleep was the night before Hunter was born, and it may be the last for a while. My mother came to town this week to help Sam and I out, and we have a litany of family guests scheduled for the next month or so. I just hope they like midnight
movies.
Despite the total lack of R&R, there is only one thing keeping me going � the adrenaline rush of being a father. Sometimes, you can�t help but stare at the little guy and admire the fact that he is yours. I have seen my wife doing it too, and he is cute enough that it is near impossible to take your eyes off him.
I can�t even begin to imagine all the challenges ahead, but for now, I am taking everything head on. Hopefully, we can convince Hunter to sleep at night for a change, and then I just might get some shuteye.
Just in case, I had better get some new DVDs for Christmas.
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(Reprinted from The Graham Star, Dec. 11, 2003)
Routine doctor visit ends with infant's arrival
Miracles come in all shapes and sizes, and while the birth of a child is always a miracle, ours went way beyond the normal amount of divine intervention.
Hunter Shawn Osborne was born at 5:25 p.m. last Thursday at Harris Regional Hopsital in Sylva, and his arrival sent a huge sigh of relief through our entire family.
Why? It almost didn�t happen.
Sam�s doctor was on vacation last week, and with her due date approaching on Friday, the doctor asked her to go to the hospital for some routine tests on the baby. She didn�t want Sam to go more than a week without being seen, and that turned out to be a brilliant diagnosis.
We brought our bags and our carseat with us to the hospital � just in case, of course � but we honestly were still in relax mode. We had not elevated ourselves to panic mode, since Sam had no labor pains to that point, and we have been frequently told that first babies are a little late.
So we hooked her up and pondered what time we might get home in the evening. We chatted about the weather and watched Maury Povich on a hospital TV. The constant battle between cheating husbands and out-of-control teens kept our minds briefly off the anxiety we were feeling.
Our anxiety got a lot worse soon enough, as the nurses became concerned with what they saw on the monitor. One nurse became two, and they felt it was necessary to summon the doctor on call.
To make a long story short, the look on the doctor�s face said it all � this baby needed to come out now. He recommended an emergency C-section, and under the circumstances, we gave him the OK to do it.
The other options sounded grim. In fact, the doctor told us that the baby would have difficulty surviving a regular birth. Then they hit us with this one � because of the low amount of fluid around the baby, they told us he would not have survived more than another day or so if we had not gone to the hospital when we did.
The bad news stopped there for the most part, as the surgery went exceptionally well. Sam and Hunter came out of it well, but I had some tough moments beforehand sitting in the waiting area before being allowed into the operating room.
I was so wired from all the craziness, but when I finally got to spend a little time alone with Hunter, it all sunk in at once. I was so blessed to come through this adversity with my family healthy and happy, and my son gave me his first smile while the nurses prepared him to go see his mom.
After a few difficult days in the hospital � with Dad sleeping on the worst pull-out cot in America � Mom and baby were finally allowed to come home Sunday. Hunter�s first night at home was strange for him, and he was basically unwilling to sleep alone in his crib. So, we took shifts and tried to entertain him, with neither of us getting any adequate sleep.
As Hunter and I stayed up virtually all night watching flics like A Few Good Men and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I silently thanked God for all our blessings and for letting my son come into this world. Sam and I could not have asked for anything more this holiday season.
Now, about sleeping in that crib.