Stages of dad-hood and pinewood derby cars

Call me thick-headed, but I've just come to the realization that dad-hood is a series of stages.

So what is the catalyst for my new revelation of the seemingly obvious? My son joined the Cub Scouts last fall.

Let me rewind for a few moments and tell you what I've learned about the stages of my own dad-hood journey.

First, there's the carry and push stage. You carry the baby (sometimes). You carry the baby accessories. You carry the poopy diapers to the trash. You push the baby stroller. You push the grocery cart. You push the baby furniture into different configurations. It doesn't take a lot brain power. It can be tedious, but you don't mind because you're a proud papa.

Second, you have the chase and grab stage. Junior or Juniorette is now a toddler and an active toddler, at that ...... extremely active. If you've effectively kid-proofed your domicile, this stage on the home front isn't really a big deal. It's when you leave the safety of your effectively kid-proofed dwelling that you experience trials and tribulations.

At the grocery store, they're grabbing random items off the shelf and you're coming behind putting them back. At the department store, they're hiding under clothing racks as you frantically search for them, then they pop up behind you and ask you what you're doing. Parking lots are a nightmare scenario of their own. The church hallway is a race track. Restrooms are water parks.

"Hey! No! It's not a water fountain! Oh man ..... No. That's not candy, bubby."

Next, it's the school stage. In preschool, you're helping them learn all manner of vital lessons: coloring inside the lines, not to eat glue or pencils or crayons or markers (washable and non-toxic, of course). Preschool is much more complicated than it appears on the surface. You also have dress-up days, parties, field trips; it's a busy time. Plus, illnesses that you've never experienced invade your home.

"Pink eye?!?!? Really?!?!? Pink eye?!?!?"

Then it's on to kindergarten and the learning process is ramped up, not only for Junior/Juniorette, but more so for the parents. All of a sudden, you're no longer the main authority figure in their life. You come to realize this the first time that Junior/Juniorette comes home and states in response to something you've said, "Well, that's not what Mrs. Teacher said."

"BAM! Down goes Daddy! Down goes Daddy!"

Which leads us back to the present time: the Junior/Juniorette branches out stage. Our son first started branching out in the fall of 2010 when he wanted to play organized sports. We played rec league soccer followed by Upward basketball and a second session of rec league soccer. He wasn't as interested in the competition as he was in the socialization with his buddies, which is fine with us. He's more than a social butterfly; he's the mayor of everywhere he goes.

The next phase of the branching out stage led us to join the Cub Scouts. Our son is in first grade complete with a first-grade attention span, so Cub Scouts is, how can I put it, challenging. Yep. Challenging is good.

So what have I learned from this challenging stage of dad-hood? I need to learn how to do more stuff, like how to make a pinewood derby car.

I've never been particularly handy with tools. Okay, so I have zero skills as it pertains to anything that deals with using tools, technology, etc. And yes, I had to memorize "lefty loosey, righty tighty" just to be able to replace light bulbs. What!

Now about that pesky pinewood derby car. It's helping me to stretch a little, helping me to realize that I need to learn some things that aren't necessarily crucial in the overall grand scheme of life, but that are now important to me because they're important to my son.

Hmm. In light of what it means to my son, I guess it does make learning how to build a pinewood derby car crucial in the overall grand scheme of life.