Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 08, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Defining Moments
I guess there are moments in fatherhood which really help define the parenting experience. I believe one of those happened last weekend and I thought I'd share.
Rowan had a fever last week. It didn't last long and we didn't think too much of it as it simply made her a little more huggy and sleepy. It passed the next day and we figured it was simply the effects of another couple of teeth coming in. No big deal.
Last weekend roles around and Rowan was being her usual self and running around the house, playing with toys, reading books and naming everything she can see. She comes over to me as I'm laying on the couch and asks to come up. This is nothing unusual and often results in her climbing up for two seconds before realizing that all the cool stuff is on the ground and down she goes.
This time, I lifted her up onto my chest and in the space of a second or two, she proceeds to spew the contents of her dinner onto me and the surrounding area. Rowan is shocked, scared and not sure what just happened. Jennifer immediately springs into action and gets the necessary cleaning supplies as I try my best to comfort my daughter while covered in vomit.
After the shock wears off and we get Rowan settled and into the bath, she's her normal self and joining mommy in playing with her bath toys. Meanwhile, I have to go about the task of figuring out just how you clean vomit off a couch.
This little event led me to a few conclusions:
1. All my life, I imagined that my own parents simply knew what they were doing when we threw up everywhere. It's like they had some hidden playbook and were just enacting #121-Vomit Clean-up Option Left. This playbook does NOT exist and they, like me, were simply making this crap up as they went along with equal amounts of shock and awe.
2. Being covered in your own child's vomit is simply not as disgusting as I would have imagined. However, it's the point when the adrenaline kicks out and you know your daughter is ok that it becomes TRULY disgusting. I've learned it's best to get to the cleaning as fast as you can while the adrenaline is pumping. That's probably why my parents moved so damn fast as well.
3. When vomit or any sort of extreme mess is involved, a person can move with AMAZING speed and intensity. I'm the guy who doesn't want to find the remote as it may require getting my ass off the couch. But hit me with disgusting bile and watch me sprint around the house ten times to find more paper towels. If it weren't so disgusting, I'd get puked on more often in an effort to fix that front step I've been neglecting.
4. No event more than the disgusting, no choice but to deal with it, smelly emergency moments make you feel more like a parent. It's like you have to earn your stripes and no one tells you how that will happen. You might envision a great moment where lights shine and you realize the majesty of life as a parent. But in reality it involves things that are smelly, sticky and require one or more powerful cleaning agents in order to fix whatever damage may have occurred.
And God help me when the next defining moment roles around. I'm gonna go find that plastic tarp in the garage.
Rowan had a fever last week. It didn't last long and we didn't think too much of it as it simply made her a little more huggy and sleepy. It passed the next day and we figured it was simply the effects of another couple of teeth coming in. No big deal.
Last weekend roles around and Rowan was being her usual self and running around the house, playing with toys, reading books and naming everything she can see. She comes over to me as I'm laying on the couch and asks to come up. This is nothing unusual and often results in her climbing up for two seconds before realizing that all the cool stuff is on the ground and down she goes.
This time, I lifted her up onto my chest and in the space of a second or two, she proceeds to spew the contents of her dinner onto me and the surrounding area. Rowan is shocked, scared and not sure what just happened. Jennifer immediately springs into action and gets the necessary cleaning supplies as I try my best to comfort my daughter while covered in vomit.
After the shock wears off and we get Rowan settled and into the bath, she's her normal self and joining mommy in playing with her bath toys. Meanwhile, I have to go about the task of figuring out just how you clean vomit off a couch.
This little event led me to a few conclusions:
1. All my life, I imagined that my own parents simply knew what they were doing when we threw up everywhere. It's like they had some hidden playbook and were just enacting #121-Vomit Clean-up Option Left. This playbook does NOT exist and they, like me, were simply making this crap up as they went along with equal amounts of shock and awe.
2. Being covered in your own child's vomit is simply not as disgusting as I would have imagined. However, it's the point when the adrenaline kicks out and you know your daughter is ok that it becomes TRULY disgusting. I've learned it's best to get to the cleaning as fast as you can while the adrenaline is pumping. That's probably why my parents moved so damn fast as well.
3. When vomit or any sort of extreme mess is involved, a person can move with AMAZING speed and intensity. I'm the guy who doesn't want to find the remote as it may require getting my ass off the couch. But hit me with disgusting bile and watch me sprint around the house ten times to find more paper towels. If it weren't so disgusting, I'd get puked on more often in an effort to fix that front step I've been neglecting.
4. No event more than the disgusting, no choice but to deal with it, smelly emergency moments make you feel more like a parent. It's like you have to earn your stripes and no one tells you how that will happen. You might envision a great moment where lights shine and you realize the majesty of life as a parent. But in reality it involves things that are smelly, sticky and require one or more powerful cleaning agents in order to fix whatever damage may have occurred.
And God help me when the next defining moment roles around. I'm gonna go find that plastic tarp in the garage.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Life is Good
Been awhile.
Really, life has simply been too full and too busy for me to sit and write something about it. I guess I've just been too busy experiencing things to sit down and really think about all that has transpired in my life as of late.
All I know, is that at this moment in time, life is very, very good.
Happy birthday to my favorite person in the entire world, my partner and my mate. Jennifer, you are and will continue to be the brightest and most important person in my life. I'm the luckiest.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Look At That Face
We took Rowan in for her sixth month check up yesterday. I realized something very cool as we sat there for an eternity and waited for the doctor to show up.For the first time I feel like a "Dad". I own the title, I love the title and I feel it's reality and validity in my very bones. And it only happened when this little girl started to smile when I walked into the room. It's only when she started to say "dadadadada" when I held her and when she falls alseep in my arms because she knows it's safe that I really earned the title.
The name of "Dad" is given to you when your wife gets pregnant but I never felt like I deserved it. I got Father's Day presents and I didn't know how I felt about them. I read countless pages (actually there are only ten pages in the known world, but whatever) that had the words "For Fathers" on them but I never really related to the term.
But when Rowan started to recognize me as someone special, when she put me into some category of safety and comfort in her mind, then it's mine. She gave me the title and only then, at least for me, was it real.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
