Just a love note… A reminder of how sweet and gentle children really are.
My oldest daughter, 5, has decided that she doesn’t want things anymore.
I should be thrilled. “She doesn’t want things?” I should cry from the rooftops (with safe, functioning balconies), “listen everyone! I have a daughter who doesn’t want things!”
Included in the short list of things my daughter doesn’t want are: breakfast, lunch, dinner, to go to the bathroom and to go to bed. Aside from her “furious five”, she’s golden.
So I wonder, being a wondering man who certainly takes plenty of time making and deciding upon decisions, should I be supportive of my daughter and her pursuit of not wanting, nay, requiring basics like food, toilets and sleep, or should I choose to be that “overbearing” parent who thinks of these things as daily necessities and uphold their sacredness?
I humbly invite you to let me know what you think, bloggers. If not you, then whom?
At this very moment, I’m surrounded by seven beautiful women (technically four women and three girls). One is on her way to school, one is crying to be fed, two are still in bed and the rest are in various stages of getting up.
I’m the only male in the entire house. I might be the only male still at home on the entire block. Might as well get my own dress.
I’ve read somewhere that we absorb hormones emitted by others. Whether or not that’s true is for the scientists to decide, but there’s a mighty large amount of estrogen in this household – no wonder my guy friends are grabbing me for short getaways and asking if I’m okay (no man asks another man if he’s okay).
It’s nice, though. I spent most of this morning (all 59 wonderful minutes of it) getting my oldest daughter breakfast and watching as she looked for the tooth she placed under her pillow, discovering instead a marshmallow and a loonie (if you’re not from Canada, a loonie is equivalent to $1). We just finished waving to one another as her bus took off. *sigh*
Last night my mother-in-law cooked curry with roti. Curry with roti – yums. I haven’t had to do a dish in over a week! How awesome is that! Can I get a high five or a hallelujah?
I’m also grateful that everyone’s in a good mood. We have a small house and there are very limited places to run to in case people aren’t “feeling pleasant”.
I can’t think of a creative closing sentence, so I hope you enjoy your day!
Among the many different things I remember looking forward to with our new baby were things like new baby smell (it’s intoxicating… there’s nothing like it) and hospital ice (what? you’ve never tried it? well, go get injured or sick or something & go to the hospital and try some).
Honestly, though, to pinpoint the one thing I was looking forward to the most… well… it’s a bit awkward, a bit weird, and (most of all) quite disgusting. In fact, you may want to set down anything that you’re eating or change to a different blog if you’re one of those people with wimpy stomachs.
I, (yes, me) Andrew Plait of Southern Alberta, was especially looking forward to green poo.
Let me write that again, a little slower for the people who weren’t sure what they read: G – R – E – E – N – P – O – O.
Green poo is, without a doubt, the best part of the entire parenting experience. Never mind the crying or discontent from the baby (actually, there’s usually one of three things to do when a baby cries, but that’s another post on its own) – green poo is to die for.
Why this fascination with feces? Well, I’ll tell you.
In my un-medical slang experience, a new baby dispenses green slime from his/her bottom within the first few hours of it being alive. You see it once, twice if you’re lucky, and then it disappears forever (unless your baby has a health problem or is from outer space or subsists on a formula/breastmilk/spinach diet).
The stuff is tougher than the strongest epoxy and extremely rare. In fact, I snapped a pic of it while we were in the hospital (but had the decency not to post that sort of thing on the Internet… just yet).
That’s why I’m a fan of green poo. Look for the collectible T-shirts coming out later this summer. We’ll start a poo-volution! Who’s with me?
My wife and family are quite supportive. I mean, they have to live with me, right? They do a great job of that.
With the advent of our daughter, Taleah, and the EI parental leave offered by the Canadian government + the blessing of my workplace, I have access to the opportunity to spend more time with my family, be of use to my wife (not every day you hear that, dads!) and work on things I’ve been wanting to work on.
I’ve always enjoyed music, but haven’t had the chance to ENJOY (ie. listen to anything worthwhile) since the beginning of the year. Now, thanks to YouTube, I’ve been listening / watching full concerts from some of my favorite bands (ex. Radiohead, Gorillaz) online. In fact, I’m watching / listening to Radiohead (Live At Reading Festival) at the exact moment I’m working on this blog post.
My wife and daughters have given me the gift of time. Not only can I be super dad (not that I’m not Super Dad all the time), but I can be the self-employed businessman I was before, but now with the ability to focus more on the directions I want to go in.
Family, thank you for the gift of believing in me, for the gift of loving and supporting me, and for the gift of time to spend with you and improve myself (and hopefully our situation as a result).
Sometimes life is full of irony. My daughter lost her first tooth mere hours before some major dental work took place.
The tooth was one of the lower front ones, but, despite repeated assurance that she’d be okay, she was quite reluctant to remove it.
We tried the wiggle first. You know, where you move the tooth back and forth with your fingers or tongue until it works its way out. The wiggle seems simple enough, but my five-year-old didn’t seem to get it.
To aid with knowledge of different ways to extract the tooth, we turned to a major Internet info-spot, YouTube. We saw kids with string attached to doorknobs, remote control cars, Nerf darts, a parent’s hand, a Lego action figure, etc. String seemed to be the way to go, but you think she’d go with string? Nuh-uh.
So, we went back to wiggling and pushing with her tongue. Grandma kept telling her to come so she could take it out, but girly-girl wanted to do it herself.
There were tears, fits, slightly violent acts directed towards adults… it was as if she didn’t want the tooth to come out. In fact, she’d said several times that she wanted to eat something hard so the tooth would come out by itself.
25 minutes into the tooth pulling I suggested tweezers. Sure enough, she tried them, but couldn’t seem to get a good grip. After repeated no-go’s, the waterworks resumed. Handoff to Daddy-o. Two quick tugs with the tweezers and that sucker was outta there!
As I said, that tooth came out hours before her dental appt. today, but that’s a story for another time. Later, all!
I am so tired. You know how some people, like doctors, have jobs that sometimes require them to be up for 24 hours straight, sometimes more? Well, I pulled a 20-hour marathon yesterday, and my brain is still feeling it.
Twice now I’ve woken up today staring at the back of my eyelids trying to piece together where I was. Twice now I’ve wondered if I was still dreaming, then realized that I was actually still awake and really tired. Is this a sign of early onset fathernesia? I’m too young to die!
My kind wife let me come home and rest after pulling the near all-nighter. Don’t worry, I left her in excellent hands (the hospital staff, her mother, sister and our two daughters). I took advantage of that time to sleep, catch up on posting and grab some food.
Well, another night of diapers and feeding awaits. Catch you later.