Well, we did it. My wife and I made it to the one-year mark. (Oh, and so did Lucy.) The first two weeks seemed like a millennium, the last fifty seemed like a millisecond.

So, what have I learned, if anything?

• It sounds so dang cliché to say, “It’s harder than I imagined, but better than I imagined.” It may be cliche, but is it ever true.

• I’m still trying to figure out what a “normal” schedule should be. I’m never quite sure I’m spending time correctly. I feel like I’m still trying to get in a groove. It seems like I should have it figured out by now. I also get the feeling that “normal” is gone forever.

• I can be with Lucy, OR I can work on something else. Either way I’m a pretty patient person. But trying to do both at once drives me insane and obliterates my patience.

• Baby diapers can really STINK. But I don’t mind changing them as much as I thought I would. I think dirty diapers are overhyped.

• Most of the world is out of whack when it comes to life balance. What most would consider standard operating procedure is way over the edge, if you ask me. I think we all need to slow the hell down for two seconds and stop trying to be and do and have everything.

• We avoided colic but got to experience the worst of teething. Pick your poison, I guess…

[Read the rest of this article over at Dad-O-Matic, a cool site for Dads, by Dads.]

I was recently given a review copy of Ripley’s Believe It or Not! Seeing Is Believing.

The problem is, I’ve never done an official review of anything before.

I guess the first thing to determine is my unit of measurement. That seems to be the thing that really brands you and makes you popular, ensuring that more people will send you free stuff. I’m pretty sure Siskel & Ebert came up with the thumbs up/thumbs down thing. Rotten Tomatoes uses, um, tomatoes. And I don’t know who came up with the star system (I give this 4 out of five stars!), but I’m sure he must be making a lot of bank these days.

While thumbs, tomatoes and stars are all very good units of measurement, since I specialize in things that are childlike, I’ve decided go with marbles. They’re timeless, and everybody knows that marbles are cool and more is better. My top rating will be five marbles. Not four, because that seems too limiting, but not ten because that seems too nuanced and I sometimes have a hard time making decisions.

Now that I’ve got that cleared up, I’ve got to figure out what exactly am I basing this review on. That’s a big factor, after all. Some of the most entertaining movies of all time (I’m looking at you, Dumb & Dumber), would never be given a shred of critical acclaim or Oscar buzz (mainly because the Academy is stifled by Adultitis).

Again, I feel my area of focus requires me to overlook technical merits, production values, and the sorts of things that would make Strunk & White giddy. Quite simply, you get five marbles if your book/movie/product does an exemplary job of decreasing Adultitis and inviting the inner child out to play.

Finally, on to the review. (This is a lot of work!)

Here’s what I can tell you about Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! Seeing Is Believing…

[Read the rest of this article over at Dad-O-Matic, a cool site for Dads, by Dads.]

In a few weeks, my daughter Lucy will celebrate her first birthday. Last Thanksgiving, we had to skip the traditional two-hour drive home because my wife looked like she was hiding the Great Pumpkin under her shirt. At the risk of sounding like every other dad who’s ever lived, I can’t believe how fast the time has gone. (Even though the first few weeks did seem like an eternity.)

With another Thanksgiving just around the corner, and my first year of fatherhood coming to a close, I sure do have a lot to be thankful for, including sleep, football, and cheese. Here’s the full list:

1 ) Sleep.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been a big fan of sleep. It’s just that I’m much more grateful for it now. Every hour of sleep is pure gold and Sunday afternoon family naps are better than a juicy steak. Never more true than in the first year of parenthood is the old adage that says, “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”

2 ) The guy who invented disposable diapers.
You, my friend, are a saint. Now, my hat is off to all of the brave, patient souls who go the route of cloth diapers. I salute you, particularly because you appear to be some brand of superhuman. Although our choice to go disposable may not be as environmentally friendly, I take solace in the idea that I’m doing my part to jumpstart the economy.

3 ) Football.
Oh, football, you bastion of manliness serving as a needed escape from the jungle of fatherhood. For a few hours, you let me revel in grown men smacking the crap out of each other as I watch from the comfort of my couch in my fleece pants. Who knew that Jay Cutler’s 17 interceptions (so far!) could serve such a noble purpose?

4 ) Moms.
First, let me state the obvious. If guys had to go through the whole childbirth thing, there’d be a lot less people on Earth. Like maybe none. Plus, moms are so good at remembering those little things that we dads often forget, like the fact that it might be a good idea to put a coat on your baby when it’s cold outside.

5 ) Colors not named pink.
I grew up in a home with two brothers. The only females were my mom and our dog. There wasn’t a whole lot of pink going on. But now, in just one year’s time, I have already achieved a lifetime’s worth of exposure to the color pink. Apparently that is the only color you’re allowed to dress little girls in. I have a new found appreciation for the colors blue, orange, green, and yes, even brown…

[Read the rest of this article over at Dad-O-Matic, a cool site for Dads, by Dads.]

Click here to view the embedded video.

It usually gets a pretty good reaction from the crowd, including laughs and giggles of both delight and disgust.

The video is a little misleading, however.

You see, Kim originally heard the idea of feeding giraffes in this particular way from a man we met at a gig. We discussed it in our hotel room and decided it was a splendid idea. But when we got to the zoo and stood face-to-face with the googley-eyed, hairy-chined, goofy-looking animals, we almost chickened out.

One reason we went through with it is because of you.

If you frequent this site, you probably have an image of me and Kim as champions of fun. It’s an image that has built up over the years, one which we have enthusiastically embraced. Now I like to think we’re pretty fun people, but we know a lot of people who are just as fun (and even moreso) than us. But the reason we embrace this image is because it’s a worthy goal. It’s a picture of the kind of people we really want to be.

I often think back on the best teachers I’ve ever had (including my parents). The thing they all had in common was that they held me to a higher standard. They didn’t let me settle for average. They had a vision for me which was higher than where I was at the time. Their belief and expectations encouraged and challenged me to become that person they knew I could become.

Being Jason of “Kim & Jason” is kind of like that. There’s a little pressure to be a happy-go-lucky, never-stressed, perfectly-balanced ball of fun. But I don’t mind it, because that’s the sort of person I want to become. (And some days, I even do a pretty good job of it.)

So Kim and I went through with the giraffe shenanigans largely because of peer pressure.

But the confession doesn’t end there.

The first few attempts in the video are admittedly a little lame, or at least more reserved than the latter ones. Once we got through the first few, we thought we were done filming. We did what we came there to do. We were proud that we went through with it and relieved that it was over.

Then we saw some kids doing it.

They took our idea and elevated it to a whole new level. They were much more daring. And they were having a lot more fun. After watching them for a few minutes, we knew our filming had just begun.

We bought more crackers, got a little bit more wild, and had a blast. The clips at the end of the video are the result, and they are what transform the movie from mildly amusing to magical.

There are two morals to this story.

First of all, we struggle with Adultitis just like you. Our mission is to publicly work on annihilating the Adultitis within is and the world around us, while sharing what works and encouraging you to do the same. We are as inspired by your efforts in the fight as we hope you are of ours. You help keep us accountable, and for that we are thankful.

Secondly, as the kids at the zoo demonstrated, children are the best teachers. They’re little guides with wisdom we often overlook. That’s why we call them sherpas. What we try to do is point out the genius of children and give you permission to be more like them.

So, if you’re ever in doubt about how life should really be lived, ignore us and go watch some kids.

Sign up to receive our free newsletter to get regular reminders and tips for stressing less and having more fun. Consider it a well-deserved jolt of happiness for your inbox.

photo by hayopsaganda

I feel like I need to take a shower. Kim and I just got done doing a business-themed radio interview with a couple of female hosts who were two of the most Adultitis-ridden people I’ve come across in some time. Arrogant and pessimistic, the duo was unprepared, unenthusiastic, and utterly unhappy.

I normally have a great time doing interviews, but not this one. It was an hour in hell.

I should have known from the start we were in trouble when one of the hosts started talking about how she was going to Chuck E. Cheese’s to help celebrate her grandchild’s birthday. I thought she was sharing this as an example of how she’d be escaping adulthood, but instead she proceeded to lament about how much she dreaded going.

Kim and I tried our best to keep a positive spin on things and attempt to offer the listeners helpful insights. I’d hoped that I could say something that would bring a little light into the lives of the hosts. But I knew I faced an uphill battle. I learned long ago, that despite my best efforts, it’s impossible to make a dent in someone with full-blown Adultitis. For one, they don’t ever admit they have it. And because of that, they aren’t open to any kind of change.

It became pretty clear that they were more interested in hearing themselves talk. They barely knew what we did, didn’t know our website, and didn’t even know if we were husband and wife or brother and sister. I think we held our own, and gave out some good information.

Sometimes I wish I could be more unabashed in my opinion giving. I wish I wasn’t averse to hurting people’s feelings or caring so much what people think of me. Since I was raised to be polite, I kept a lot of thoughts to myself. But if I were brave, and living in Bizarro World, here is what I would have said:

* * * * *

(Click play to listen to my rant or keep on reading.)

I’m sure it must have been hard being a woman in business twenty years ago. I am sure that lots of people were waiting for you to fail. I don’t doubt that you felt you had to do twice the work to gain the acceptance of your male coworkers. But you did it. You took the slings and arrows. You persisted. You prevailed. You’re at the top of your field. You make a good salary. You have a great deal of influence in the community.

So why are you still so damn unhappy?

You can also complain all you want about the younger generation coming into the workforce with high expectations and an entitlement mentality. You say they don’t appreciate the value of hard work and what it really takes to make it in business because they’ve been used to winning more times than not and for getting trophies when they finished last.

But let me ask you this? Who raised this generation? Wasn’t that…you?

Perhaps you felt guilty because you worked so many hours and your kids spent so much time in day care that you gave toys and trophies at every turn to boost their shaky self-esteem and assure them that you did indeed love them. Perhaps you are now reaping what you sowed.

I also wanted to congratulate you for being so important that you have so many emails flooding your inbox. (It is after all, a competition, and you are clearly the winners.) Because you are so in demand, it’s impossible to keep up to it all, what with so many people expecting you to get back to them within minutes. And that stinks that the economy-inspired budget cuts have done away with your personal assistants that used to do your grunt work.

According to you, this overload is unavoidable. Your line of work insists upon this crazy pace, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Unless you want to get fired or something. Because as you seem to indicate, the only way to avoid losing your job in this terrible, terrible economy is to take your job (and yourself) as seriously as humanly possible and relinquish any hope of having time with the people you care the most about (unless those people are your co-workers.)

Guess what? Sorry to disappoint you, but you’re not the victim here. Someone gets the final say, and that person would be…you. I know it may be hard to believe, but you actually have control over your life. Shocking, isn’t it?!

But you’re probably right. Setting up limits for people on how to contact you and when they can expect a response is completely unrealistic and undoable. It’ll probably get you fired. And then you’ll end up homeless and starving on the street with absolutely no means to find another job (or create your own!)

Because after all, as you mentioned (about fifteen times), the economy is really, really bad. Funny I hadn’t heard about that before. Thanks for giving me a clue.

But here’s a thought: contrary to popular belief, just because the economy is in a recession doesn’t mean we all have to go around with furrowed brows and serious demeanors. Doom and gloom will get us nowhere, girls. Should we pretend that everything is all daisies and lollipops? Of course not. Clearly, we are living in uncertain times.

But are we ever living in certain times?

Pessimism is not the answer (oh, and I know you’d call it realism.) It’s terribly difficult to come up with creative solutions to our current problems when we’re choked with fear and worried about getting hit by pieces of the falling sky. In fact, a great way to sink your company even deeper in the hole is to stop smiling at customers, engage in pressure selling, and spend most of your time looking over your shoulder hoping to not be fired.

I know, I know, I’m just one of those unrealistic Generation Xers without a clue. Allow me to ask you just one final question:

What have you done today to add a little joy to your soul?

Nothing?

I thought so. Might want to start there, ladies.

Sign up to receive our free newsletter to get regular reminders and tips for stressing less and having more fun. Consider it a well-deserved jolt of happiness for your inbox.

We went to the doctor the other day for my daughter Lucy’s nine-month checkup. It included a smorgasbord of shots.

And I got to hold her down.

I was pretty nervous on the ride there, and I wasn’t even the one getting the shots. As we were driving, I told Kim that I would rather receive the shots myself than have to see Lucy get them.

“Spoken like a true Dad,” said my wife.

I’m not sure what suddenly made me a glutton for punishment, but I didn’t say that to come across like some macho dude. I really meant it. Which surprises even me.

You see, I’m not one of those manly men, with hair on his knuckles and steel hands that can pulverize granite. Nor could I be considered a metrosexual because I have the fashion sense of a twelve-year-old. I like to think of myself as a normal guy — whatever that means these days — but I am not a big fan of pain. Manual labor gives me the heebie-jebbies. I sometimes curse like a sailor when I’m in below zero temperatures. And I am likely to faint if I’m in a discussion that spends more than thirty seconds talking about anything internal: spine alignments, organ transplants, brain surgery…woah….I just got a little woozy.

Even though I have a history of going out of my way to avoid just about anything uncomfortable, I’d literally…(Read the rest of this article over at Dad-O-Matic, a cool site for Dads, by Dads.)

photo by calonda

With summer winding down, most kids are either back in school or soon will be. (I have to admit, not having to go to school is one of my favorite things about being an adult.) As school begins, stress levels mount — for children and their parents — leaving the door wide open for Adultitis. We collected a number of articles from our archives that will help you cope with the increase in busyness and give you some things to think about as the new school year kicks off.

• 4 Ways to Prevent Back-to-School Blues | A post about making the transition back to school a bit more palatable.
• The Root of the Problem | A post on how to REALLY help kids deal with stress.
• Ignore What Mom Said | A post challenging the conventional advice you received from Mom and your teachers.
• Do You Suffer From Sunday Night Dread? | A post about the icky feeling you get on Sunday nights during the school year (and what to do about it).
• 5 Ways to Prevent a Stressful School Year | A post about exactly what the title says.
• Yep, Tag is Way Too Dangerous | A post on the largely unknown dangers of a classic childhood game.
• The Price of Losing Free Play | A post about the bad things that happen when we don’t let kids have time to play.

If this whole talk about going back to school makes you feel a little nostalgic, check out this “Old School” hopscotch t-shirt and some other fun apparel that pays tribute to your favorite schoolyard games. Red Rover, anyone?

I remember certain summer days during my childhood in which my brothers and I, all out of ideas of what to do next, would complain to my mother that we were officially bored.

I don’t remember getting much sympathy.

It’s been a long time since I was really bored. I love what I do, and there’s always an impossibly long list of things that need to be done. And, frankly, it’s kind of hard to be bored in our “always on” society awash in laptops and smart phones and iPods.

Well, sometimes I’m bored when I’m with Lucy.

I get to spend two hours each afternoon with her — just the two of us. I look forward to it, especially if I haven’t seen her much during the day. I love her to death, and I love spending time with her. I could spend hours just looking at her. But five-month-olds don’t do much. The little games we come up with are just as much for my entertainment as hers.

Sometimes my thoughts drift off to other more “productive” things I could be doing. I’ve noticed that left unchecked, life tends to accelerate. Being forced to slow down is a good thing, even if I don’t like it at the time. For one, it’s a great opportunity to collect my thoughts. And it’s nice just to watch her cute little mannerisms, marvel at her little toes and fingers, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, as God whispers in mine.

One of my favorite things to do with her is just sit. It could be chilling out on the rocking chair, or outside on the tree stump in the backyard. There is something peaceful about that. For me, and I think for her as well.

Sometimes I feel guilty for wishing that I could keep working (to get things checked off my list) and sometimes I worry that I’ll regret feeling this way when she’s older. But I also sometimes feel like I’m being a bad dad (or maybe just not a great one), because I’m not engaging her more, teaching her more, or coming up with and endless array of things to do with her. I only get two uninterrupted hours with her a day, shouldn’t I want to do more than just sit with her? But the doing nothing is actually…nice.

Back when I was a kid, the boredom that set in during summer vacation was never welcome. But it offered a much-needed break and always resulted in an exciting new initiative. Boredom was actually good thing.

So yes, sometimes I’m bored with Lucy.

The thing is, I like being bored with her.

It might be the best thing for the both of us.

I challenge you to try powering down your computer and turing off your cell phone for a couple of hours today. Do nothing. At all. A little boredom might just be the best thing for you as well.

Kim and I recently returned home from another trip with our 3-month-old daughter, Lucy. So far, she has 12 flights under her tiny belt and has been in first class three times (although she slept through most of them.) Here is a list (by no means exhaustive) of some of the things I’ve learned in our travels.

• It’s not nearly as hard as I thought it would be.
• Lots of prior traveling experience and lots of research on traveling with kids probably helped with that first one.
• Leaving more time for everything is the key to staying sane.
• I’m way more patient than I give myself credit for.
• My wife is amazingly organized.
• TSA officials are actually friendly if you have a baby in tow. (Well, MOST of them.)
• Restaurant booths are a great place to sit so you can lay baby down next to you while you eat (in that period before they can roll over and until they can sit in a high chair without bonking their head on the table.)
• Babies are good at drawing people to your sales table in the back of the room.
• If kept fed and dry, babies have a much higher tolerance for 4-hour delays in Atlanta than grown-ups.
• If your baby is having trouble sleeping at night and you can swing it, you may want to try installing a jet engine in his or her room. Works like a charm.
• Babies can store an amazing amount of sand in their neck rolls.
• Even though it was a bit more complicated, it’s still more fun to travel with my wife and daughter than to leave them at home.
• Home is still my favorite place to be.

Bright. Cheery. Helpful.

These are words I’m not used to associating with people working in the airline industry. More commonly, I’ve noticed that security officials and airline employees tend to be among the most riddled with Adultitis. Little did I know that there is a simple solution to help raise them from their doldrums:

Just add baby.

Yep, our first flights with Lucy this week have actually bordered on enjoyable. Part of the reason is that we’ve alotted more time for things, which has taken much of the edge off travel. (It’s amazing how much less stressful life is when you’re not always in a mad dash to be first, be it first in line, first on board, etc.) But another reason things have been so nice is because of how pleasant and accommodating everyone has been. Maybe its sympathy or maybe it’s a melting of defenses, but people seem to be much more approachable, and, well…nice, when you have a baby in tow. Frowns turn upside down, help comes from nowhere, and friendly conversations start up without effort.

We’ll be sharing more of our adventures in travel in an upcoming episode of The Escape Adulthood Show, but for now I will say that I’ve been pleasantly surprised by this unexpected wrinkle.

It kind of makes me wonder why we can’t treat each other with such regard all the time. After all, we were all cute, lovable, little babies once.

Even the most hard-hearted baggage screener.

Sometimes technology can be a real pain in the keister. Like when my computer froze up right at the beginning of a speaking program I had last week. Not cool.

But the good side of technology makes me grateful that I’m living in these modern times, as opposed to the days of cavemen or pilgrims or hippies. In the last few weeks, my beloved iPhone has already proven to be my favorite tool of parenthood.

On the day Lucy was born, I had a lot of quality time with her because Mom was busy passing out due to low blood pressure. While Kim was getting taken care of and working on regaining her strength, I got to lounge around with Lucy. My iPhone was tucked into my pocket, and I was able to shoot the very first photos of her with one hand. Nice.

My iPhone has also served many other crucial purposes as well, including:

• Recording notes of things that I need to pick up at the store. Stuff like diapers, milk, and sleep.

• I had all my friends and family programmed into my Favorites list, which made the obligatory post-birth phone calls a breeze. I was also able to immediately email the photos I was snapping to Grandma and Grandpa. Eat that, Polaroid.

• I have had two speaking engagements in the past week, and my iPhone has served quite well as a mini photo album, allowing me to show off photos of Lucy to complete strangers.

• Kim and I have used our iPhones as fancy walkie-talkies to communicate from different rooms. When I’m in the bedroom taking a nap, Kim can call me from the living room if she needs help with something. It works a lot better than yelling. And no matter how tired I am, I’m pretty good at answering on the first ring.

• We’ve been having some minor feeding issues with Lucy, and the Calculator has helped me count up how many CCs of milk she’s had over the course of the day, ensuring that she will hopefully someday grow taller than 20 inches.

• The alarm clock feature has been crucial in making sure I don’t accidentally sleep until 2013. And the built-in timer helps me make sure dinner doesn’t burn.

• I have used the Internet to search for the phone number and address of our family doctor, which I then promptly entered into my address book. As a favorite. Which is a sure sign that I am officially a father.

• And of course, the ability to send and receive email gives me the false sense of assuredness that I’m still keeping up on the work side of my life.

I guess you could say that my iPhone has developed into a modern day digital Swiss Army Knife of sorts. I’m not a materialistic person by nature, and they say money doesn’t buy happiness, but I can’t imagine how Adultitis-ridden my life would be without it.

By the way, this post has been in no way sponsored by Apple. But if anyone from Apple is reading this and would like to contribute to Lucy’s college fund, give me a jingle.

I’ll try and answer on the first ring.

Photo by Saffanna

Move over, blood! In a move that is sure to outrage vampires everywhere, chocolate milk has been declared the official drink of Halloween.

This according to the Milk Processor Education Program. You know, the Got Milk? people.

(On a related note, I can also tell you it is the official drink of pregnant women looking to reach their required daily intake of calcium but are sick and tired of regular milk. Well, at least pregnant women named Kim.)

Of course, this is part of a marketing ploy designed to encourage moms to buy more milk for their kids. What I want to know is who made them the boss? How come they get to decide what the official drink of Halloween is? Maybe I’ve been inundated with too many campaign commercials, but don’t we get a vote in the matter? Certainly there are a few other options that should be up for nomination.

What say you?

By the way, if you love chocolate milk but are too lazy to spend all your time stirring, you won’t want to miss our Moo Mixer Supreme. It also makes a great gift for other lazy people in your life. Check it out in action in the video below:

Click here to view the embedded video.

I had just a few more thoughts to share expounding on the recent post regarding our adventure registering for the essential baby gear needed to parent effectively in the 21st century.

Contrary to the popular instant gratification trend of our society, Kim and I have decided to keep the baby’s sex a secret. (In fact, I intend to keep sex a secret from baby for at least thirty-five years.)

If I can use the word sex one more time in this post, maybe it will rank higher in the search engines. Sex. Sex. Sex. (That should do it.)

Anyway, there are too few surprises left in the world, and this is one we don’t think is necessary to spoil.

The downside is that it’s pretty clear that our baby’s favorite colors better be yellow and green. I’m not sure who decided on baby color schemes, but it works like this: If you’re having a boy, he is to be dressed head to toe in blue. Girls need to be plastered in pink. And if you’re not sure, well, yellow and green are your only options. Oh, and no matter what, each color only comes in pastel. Period.

Meanwhile, while the baby clothes are offered only in pastel, the baby toys are made with the brightest, boldest, most saturated colors known to man. I looked down an aisle featuring a wall of baby toys, and my corneas almost exploded.

But I digress.

I think this color-coding of clothes according to gender is strange, because if you were to look in our closet, it’s not like Kim’s side is filled with pink clothes, while my side is completely blue (let alone pastel blue). What’s a daddy got to do to get some black onesies in the house? Seriously, we were looking at some accent pieces to add to the nursery and Kim thoughtfully asked, “If we have a boy, is this too feminine?”

I looked around at all of the offerings and said, “Are you kidding? Everything here is kind of feminine.”

And that’s just how it is. Babies are cute, and somewhere along the line, the color gods decided that pastel was the appropriate shade for all things cute. Far be it from me to buck tradition.

Besides, yellow is kind of growing on me.

It’s true: This is the 1,000th post. Maybe by the time we get to 2,000, they’ll have developed the technology that will allow me to make confetti and streamers shoot out of your computer. Someday.

I can’t even begin to take credit for all 1,000 posts. Kim started up her own blog during the summer of 2005 and we combined forces and merged blogs last August. She doesn’t give herself nearly enough credit, but the truth is that she has written stuff that I wish I could claim as my own.

I started this thing on April 22, 2002 — over six years ago! — well before I had even heard of the term “blog.” The first post actually appeared in a thread called “Bird Droppings” on an infrequently visited message board called The Sidewalk. Some of you K&J veterans may even remember it! (And by “some” I mean Jenna.) Here’s an excerpt of the very first post, “The Beginning of Why“:

I’m not sure how this journal will evolve, but I hope it will be at least somewhat interesting to whomever finds themselves reading it. The reason for starting this is not because I feel that I have some great knowledge or experiential wisdom to share, but mainly because my wife thought I should. Apparently, she thinks there are people besides her who might like knowing some of the thoughts that take up residence in my head.

My plan is to just write stuff here from time to time; stuff about the strip, the characters, and the daily ups and downs that go with trying to live out this dream. I imagine it will be sort of cathartic for me, which is good, because even if no one reads it, I’ll have saved tons of money on a psychologist.

The good news is that people have been reading, and I have been touched by all of the kind words from people who have been inspired, encouraged, or entertained in some way. In looking back at my mention of chronicling the “daily ups and downs that go with trying to live this dream,” I can think of five lessons I’ve learned along the way. Maybe they’ll serve you as you pursue dreams of your own…

1) Just Get Started
It’s very common to hold off on chasing a dream until the conditions are perfect. The fact is that there will always be some reason to convince yourself to stay put. So if you want to start out on your dream, get over the fact that the economy sucks, you’re not as experienced as you wish you were, or your bank account doesn’t have as much money as you wish it did.

The other thing that keeps people from diving in is intimidation, especially when they compare themselves to the success of others. I’ve had people marvel at the design and comprehensiveness of our website. Sometimes they throw their hands up, lamenting that they’ll never have a web site like this. What they don’t realize is that this web site has evolved bit-by-bit over the course of eight years. It’s undergone countless revisions, thousands of tweaks, and we’ve added stuff to it one small piece at a time. Sorry to state the obvious, but Kim and I didn’t write all 1,000 posts in one day.

Everything worthwhile — including the pyramids of Egypt — has been built the same way: brick by brick. The only way to see a dream come to fruition is to get started.

2) It Will Probably Take Longer Than You Think
Optimism is what fuels the dreamer. This is good, because it gives you the energy to get up every morning and blow past obstacles that come your way. And there will be obstacles.

Eight years ago, I thought our revenues would be much higher than they currently are. I figured Kim and I would own a home and have at least two kids by now. Even though we are growing and moving in the right direction, certain things have taken longer than I expected.

But other than flash-in-the-pan Reality TV “stars,” there’s no such thing as an overnight sensation. Do a little research on the people who have achieved real success, and you will find a history of obscurity filled with hard work, serious setbacks, and marginal successes. You should expect the same. But don’t worry. Weeds grow quickly, sometimes overnight. Oak trees don’t. Which would you rather be?

3) Don’t Be Afraid To Change
When I first embarked on this path in 2000, the Kim & Jason comic strip was the center of everything. All of the products on the Lemonade Stand featured their likenesses, I had dreams of getting syndicated, and Club K&J was little more than a fan club for enthusiasts of the strip. (Check out the screen shot to the right to see what this site looked like when this blog began.)

But then the vision evolved, and my dream became much bigger than building a comic strip empire. I wrote a book. I started my speaking career. Kim and I began working together. The Lemonade Stand evolved to include thousands of new products, most of them having nothing to do with the Kim & Jason characters. We started impacting new people in new ways.

On December 11, 2007 I announced my decision to retire the daily comic strip. Let me tell you, that was a toughie. I feared that my dream was dying and I struggled to let go. But let go I did, and the business — and mission — evolved in remarkable ways. I took about a year off from Kim & Jason, which allowed my creative juices to bubble up. Now I am working on a new Kim & Jason project that fits better with my current lifestyle and has me more excited than I’ve been in a long while.

As you travel on your own path, don’t be afraid to change. It will be scary at times, but if you can go with the flow and follow where your heart leads, your dream will evolve beyond your wildest imagination.

4) Take Time to Look Back to See How Far You’ve Come
One thing I constantly have to remind myself to do is take time to look back at how far we’ve come. I tend to be a very forward-thinking person with big dreams. When you have big dreams, it’s easy to get caught up in a perpetual state of “never quite there.” To avoid burning out, it is vitally important to take inventory of what you’ve been able to accomplish.

In the past eight years, I’ve written three books (one of which was published by a major publisher), launched a career as a professional speaker, was named the “Rising Star” of the National Speakers Association of Wisconsin, secured licensing deals for Kim & Jason in countries like Japan and Australia, and moved into a ridiculously awesome new office. Not too shabby for a shy kid from a small town who started out in an old apartment with no money. These are the things I need to reflect on when I feel like we’re not making any progress.

When chasing a dream, be careful not to only compare where you are with where you want to be. Don’t forget to spend time comparing where you are to where you used to be.

5) Go With God
Faith is vitally important to me and Kim. We’ve had many dark and scary moments, moments that made us question our sanity and consider throwing in the towel. But time and time again, God has provided for us in amazing ways, often just in the nick of time. He’s guided me in directions I’d never considered and led me to people that I needed to know. And He’s given us the strength to keep going, even when the road was dark and hope seemed lost. I can’t imagine undertaking this journey without him.

I believe all real dreams come from God; they were placed deep within our hearts by a creator that loves us. The only way to achieve God’s best for you is to follow his lead. Pray for guidance. Pray for wisdom. Pray for strength. Somehow, he orchestrates things so that they always work out for the best.

These are five lessons I’ve learned while chasing my dream. And as the journey continues, I’m well aware that school is still in session.

Kim and I finally had a chance to officially “register” for this new little freeloader we’ll be welcoming into the home in around four months. Thanks, dear readers, for all of the helpful tips and suggestions.

Now I’m not sure if you know this or not, but there is kind of an entire industry that caters to providing stuff for babies. I’ve heard rumors about these giant, warehouse-type stores designed just for this purpose. I think there are even stores that I frequent often that supposedly have entire departments devoted to this sort of thing, but I’ve never noticed them before.

They have basically evaluated every single sliver of your baby’s life, and created one-hundred-fifty-seven trillion products that allow you to micro-manage it accordingly. They even have a special bar you can attach to your bathtub that has the sole purpose of giving him something to hold on to as he enters and exits the bath. If you wanted to, you could easily outfit your entire house to look like a nursing home, with the only difference being that the residents are under two feet tall. (I could write a whole post on the similarities between nurseries and nursing homes.)

So yeah, there’s a lot of stuff. Although it looks like we’ll have to go back, because the automatic diaper-changing machine must have been out of stock the day we were there.

I’m sure it’s a popular item.

I actually enjoyed the process of registering. I liked certain parts exceptionally well; especially the barcode scanning part of it. Most things involving baby cater to a decidedly feminine point-of-view, but I am reasonably certain that the person who developed the barcode scanner had the masculine soul in mind. And I appreciate that.

I liked being in charge of the gun. First of all, it looks like it was used as a prop in Star Wars, plus it shoots lasers. LASERS! Echoing back to the ancestral days of hunting and gathering, it was as if Babies”R”Us became a dense and expansive forest, and my job was to shoot down things that my baby would need. I felt like such a capable provider. (Never mind the fact that the things I scanned are items that I expect other people to buy for me.)

I feel sorry for any expectant (and frankly, emasculated) fathers whose wife takes control of the scanner. It’s an important role, ladies. For the love of God, don’t take it away from him.

The lady who helped get us all set up at Babies”R”Us tried offering some helpful advice. She said to register for things you need for the whole first YEAR of baby’s life, not just the first few months. This was not very helpful for me, as I’m still trying to get my head around trying to figure out what a newborn needs. The idea of prepping for a one-year-old at the same time just blows my mind.

My brain started drowning in possibilities: “Pants. We’ll definitely need pants. And sippy cups, I think. Or will she be past that stage already? Oh dear, do I need to start thinking about training wheels for the bike already? We don’t even have a bike yet! We should probably register for a bike AND training wheels…and a helmet, right?…”

Somehow, I was able to pull myself back from the nether-regions of near hyperventilation to focus on the task at hand: Get the stuff that’s already on Kim’s list.

Whew.

I am happy to say that as overwhelmed as we (and by “we” I mean “I”) might have been upon entering the store, we quickly got the hang of things. I could tell because I made Kim laugh when I said in a tone that was more serious and concerned than confused or sarcastic, “Do we need emery boards?”

Likewise, I knew we had hit full stride when Kim yelled, “YES! Sleep sacks!”

It was an exciting an productive day, and all of my thoughts just won’t fit in one post.

(To be continued…)

A little 4th of July fun for you out there in cyberspace.

Oh, and you might also like this post about kids and fireworks and delighting in the little things: I’ll Have What They’re Having.

(Click the comic to see it bigger.)

This weekend, Kim and I are planning to visit stores like Target, Babies ‘R Us, and Just Leave Your Wallet at the Door It’ll Be Easier in order to register for upcoming baby showers. (Raining babies, what a concept!)

In preparation, I, the dutiful father, have come up with an idea.

This could be one of my best ideas ever.

Or it could rank right up there as the one I most regret.

I thought it might be a good idea to get the advice of our readers on a few things, as I know plenty of parents are following along. We live in an apartment, so we don’t have all kinds of extra space for the at-home version of McDonald’s Playland. So here’s what I want to know: What are the must-have, ignore-them-at-your-own-risk essentials? And what are the fuhgedaboutit, don’t-even-bother-no-matter-what-everyone-else-says items?

So here’s your chance. Veteran parents, please leave your thoughts in the comments. Other than duct tape (of course!), what are your 3-5 must-haves, and what are your 3-5 top fuhgedaboutits?

A friend treated Kim and me to a Cubs game last night. (Thanks Teresa!) It’s been forever since I’d been to good ol’ Wrigley and it brought back a lot of childhood memories. Things like the glow of the emerald green grass, the barking beer vendors, and the skewed perspective that causes certain “home runs” to fall harmlessly into the shortstop’s glove.

It was 80º and perfect, and the Cubbies won 10 to 5, but I think the thing I enjoyed the most was the camaraderie. I didn’t know how much I missed that.

That’s one of the few downsides of living in Wisconsin, after having spent all but eight years of my life in Illinois: it’s hard being a Cubs and Bears fan in a land flowing with beer (the Brewers) and cheese (the Packers.) Oh sure, I’ll run into the occasional Chicago fan here in Madison, but usually I play the role of outsider. And last fall delivered more of the same when we were able to watch the Cubs take on the Diamondbacks in Arizona during the playoffs.

To be sitting among happy 41,000 fans, with all of us cheering the same balls and strikes and bunts and runs…well, that was a nice feeling. Between the shared rooting interest and the avalanche of good childhood memories, it felt a lot like home.

And that, as Martha Stewart would say, is a good thing.

When Club K&J was first conceived, it was pretty much a modest fan club for people who liked my comic strip, “Kim & Jason.”

Little did I know that it was the seed for something much greater, and much more important.

Over the past several years, as Kim and I have criss-crossed the country to share our ideas with people that are stressed-out, burned-out, and busy, I have begun to grasp the gravity of our mission. Enthusiastic and heartfelt encouragement of people who we meet along the way share phrases like “keep on doing what you’re doing” and “the world needs this, hang in there.” For a while, I absorbed these comments as little more than polite words of thanks, and sometimes as prideful pats on the back. Now I’m starting to see them as affirmations for when the going gets tough, and reminders that this journey is bigger than me, and certainly bigger than the little comic strip that started it all.

One thing I am starting to realize is that people whose childlike spirit is alive and well — the folks serious about not taking themselves too seriously — are too often in the minority. They often don’t have many other people in their life who share the same outlook on things. Sometimes Kim and I are the only ones telling them that there’s nothing wrong with them. What’s worse, the Adultitis-ridden people around them (sometimes even their closest friends or spouses) try to make them feel “irresponsible,” “childish,” or “immature.”

I am familiar with this sort of scrutiny, because we get it all the time. When we started this crazy ride almost eight years ago, I thought we had a pretty benign and agreeable message. I mean, who could argue with having more fun? With dreaming big while appreciating the little things? With spending our lives doing what we are passionate about?

Little did I know.

I guess people have a real problem with it. In a recent sampling of some of the online conversation going on about Kim & Jason, here are a few highlights of things actually said about us:

We are “delaying traditional responsibility” and are a “siren song coaxing people’s ships away from responsible channels.”

We are suffering from “Psychological Neoteny” a.k.a. ” a phenomenon that adults in modernizing liberal democracies increasingly retain many of the attitudes and behaviors traditionally associated with youth.”

We champion “a life that embraces a childlike spirit which is only really viable if someone else is paying for that life.”

We promote “cockamamie age-faking strategies.”

We “package childhood in a non-threatening way in order to sell things.”

We “use specious arguments designed to stress out caring adults to sell stuff in (our) store.”

Yikes. A benign and agreeable message indeed! (Public service announcement: you should probably run as far away from here as you can. We might just be responsible for the downfall of civilization.)

I could launch into a big diatribe on our stance between being childlike versus childish, but I feel pretty confident that anyone who has followed our blog or read our books or seen us speak knows where we stand. There are a couple of things I can take away from this. For one, we must be doing something right. Name someone who ever made history that was loved by everyone. Secondly, I can now see that this fight against Adultitis is not going to be an easy one to win.

Besides being greedy capitalists *wink, wink*, I believe that we at Kim & Jason are really in the permission business. It is my passion to let people know that not only is it more than ok to have fun and be childlike (not childish), it’s actually a key to a healthy, abundant, and fulfilled life.

Which brings me back to Club K&J. I believe the main purpose of Club K&J is to provide an opportunity for childlike people to connect with other people just like them, and to let them know that they’re not stranded on a deserted island. I want to build a community that inspires and empowers people to let that child inside come out and play.

Club K&J has evolved quite a bit over the years. Right now, the core features include a 25% discount from the Lemonade Stand, the quarterly Kim & Jason magazine (filled with articles and tips for escaping adulthood), and a continuously increasing treasure chest of exclusive content, such as bonus audio, video, and behind-the-scenes info.

The newly created Escape Events — our regularly scheduled opportunities for members to join together in doing something childlike — have the potential to become even more exciting as membership increases. As a wider number of people participate, we’ll enjoy a wider variety of solutions to each challenge. It could even grow to the point where Club K&J members are sending in suggestions for future challenges and the media is covering the phenomena because so many people are having fun with it.

Scale is a big key. As things grow, we’ll be able to more and more cool things. For instance, the monthly S.W.E.L.L. prizes and Escape Event awards will become more extravagant, maybe even including such things like cruise tickets or a year’s supply of ice cream. We’ll be able to look at creating our own social network, similar to MySpace or Facebook. With a bigger population of members, things like meetups in various cities become realistic. When Kim and I are somewhere for a speaking gig, I can see us inviting all Club K&J members in the area to meet us for desert afterwards. Another neat idea would be to organize Escape Adulthood themed-cruises, vacations, or outdoor festivals — almost like a Club &J annual convention!

This is my vision. I get excited just thinking about the possibilities.

Now, if you’re one of those curmudgeonly people against our “cockamamie age-faking strategies,” I would politely invite you to exit stage left. We’re not your cup of tea, and that’s ok. But if you love what we do, and if this vision excites you, I invite you to support us by subscribing to Club K&J.

Gasp! — he’s asking for money!!!

I understand that I am inciting the critics by asking people like yourself to plunk down $4.95 a month, but it’s pretty simple if you think about it. You can’t go very far in this world without money. To be able to create an organization I described above requires time and money and interested people. I’m perfectly content to be quite democratic about it. If people people like you see the value, buy in, and vote with their wallet, we can move forward. If they don’t, Club K&J will fade away. If we don’t do a good job of delivering value for people, they can unsubscribe at any time, as they should. Pretty straightforward stuff.

My belief is that Club K&J can be a catalyst to help us create a movement. Not a movement to amass any sort of power or to get any particular law passed. Maybe just a movement of people who join together in spirit and in action to prove to the naysayers that there is more to life than the cynicism, hectic busyness, and overwhelming stress that is typical of most modern lives. That we don’t have to spend our lives in ruts or believe in the pessimistic definition of adulthood that the world gives us.

And that yes, it’s possible to actually be childlike AND responsible all at the same time. What a concept.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I’m sure I’ll make a bunch of people angry, but I’m sorry. That’s about the only word I can think of to describe what I think about parents who let their kids have televisions in their bedroom.

With our blue collar jobs being outsourced overseas, the main thing that keeps America humming along as a world leader is our ingenuity, inventiveness, and imagination (all of which flourishes under capitalism, by the way.) Manufacturing and factory jobs are going the way of the dinosaur, and they’re being replaced by an economy of ideas and technology.

Television is a passive, mind-numbing medium. When a strong imagination and the ability to think creatively are the most important tools our kids need to succeed in life, I can’t think of one good reason to let a child have a TV in their bedroom.

Especially with all of the junk that floods the airwaves these days.

Stupid.

And it makes for stupid kids, too. From the New York Times:

According to a recent study of almost 400 third graders that was published in The Archives of Pediatric and Adolescent Medicine, about 70% of the group had a television in their bedroom. The data indicated that the children with their own TV scored significantly and consistently lower on math, reading and language-arts tests. In a similar study of 80 children in Buffalo, N.Y., the presence of a television in the bedroom increased average viewing time by nearly nine hours a week, from 21 to 30 hours.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of those people who think TV is the devil. It certainly has is place in our lives. I’m just not sure that our children’s bedrooms is that place. Can we shield our kids from everything harmful in this world? Absolutely not. But should we allow complete strangers into our kid’s bedroom to teach them a thing or two about “life?”

I know that there are at least 52 productive alternatives to TV. I’d bet there are countless more things that would be just as fun and serve our children better than sitting in their bedroom watching the boob tube. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I believe an imagination is a terrible thing to waste. You might be the “meanest” parent on the block, but the gift of letting your child stretch his or her imagination is one they will thank you for later.

So, what say you?