dnewman's blog
It's been awhile since I posted here. More on that in another post entitled 'Summer Happened'. It's been a nice hiatus but now it's good to be back writing...
The "Incident". Up to now, in her brief 6 years on this planet, Maddie has cruised through life incident-free. Many minor "accidents" - a bruised elbow here, a bumped head there, but no real scary "oh my god" moments. We have been lucky. And yes, many "mis-communications" - mostly with her parents. Frustrating times, these. Her little face will turn red and her feet will stomp all the way to her room, a loud slam as her door shakes in its frame. Moments of sadness as well, tears welling up in her big, beautiful, brown eyes. But none of this quite prepared me for what was about to happen. Upon entering 1st grade Maddie quickly made a friend. They became best friends. They did everything together. Maddie followed her around like a puppy. Since she is one of the youngest in her class, she tends to defer to her older peers. She let her best friend take the driver's seat in their adventures. Maddie was happy just to tag along. Soon, a playdate was set up. We met her parents and we all clicked. Everything was progressing swimmingly. And then it happened. The "Incident". Maddie and her friend were in line participating in a P.E. exercise. Maddie's friend turned and told her that she smelled and that she should go to the back of the line. Maddie complied, and crumpled inside. That night during bath time Maddie mentioned what had happened to me. It had taken her by surprise. I could tell she wasn't sure what to feel. And I wasn't sure what to feel, either. Initially, I didn't realize what a huge, traumatic event in Maddie's life this really was. I thought, 'Hmmm, P.E., they don't really sweat much in 1st grade, do they? How could she smell? Something she ate?' I failed to grasp the emotional impact. Then, later that week, during our parent-teacher conference, it came up again. Maddie's teacher had noticed a change in their relationship and she was sad. She thought it was wonderful that Maddie had confided in me and felt it was a testament to the strength of our bond, our father-daughter connection. I felt two very powerful emotions: 1. PRIDE - I was so elated that Maddie had shared her experience with me. There I was, on the bow of the Titanic, tears in my eyes, screaming, "I"M ON TOP OF THE WORLD!" This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment that I had worked for these past 6 years, the whole reason I had become a stay-at-home dad in the first place. 2. ANGER - After the shock subsided, I was mad. I wanted to grab Maddie's little "friend" by the shoulders and shake her: "What the hell is wrong with you, you...bully??!! Do you see what you did to my daughter?!!" It became an awkward moment for me, every day before and after school, having to face the mother of the "bully". She is the nicest mom in the world, a wonderful parent, and yet a small part of me was blaming her for what happened to Maddie. We never found out what exactly happened. We put our collective parenting minds together and tossed around some theories. Maddie's friend has an older sister...maybe she was transferring some anger or frustration...we don't know. Maddie is doing fine now and has made a new friend. All has been forgiven. We eagerly await with trepidation the next "Incident". Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, Life goes on, yeah La La, how the life goes on...
more @ http://www.googoodadda.com |
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I feel incredibly lucky to be in a position where I CAN reflect and muse and ponder, and set down those thoughts in writing, and share it all online. My wife and I have worked hard to create a shared parenting environment to give each of us some space to explore our own interests and goals while fully supporting the other and our children. Her salary supports us. Anything I make is a bonus. We don't pay for childcare. Without support from family and friends, financially, emotionally, I don't know how we could do it. My days as a Stay-At-Home Dad have been filled with so many powerful and transformative moments, I wish I could record them all and share them with friends and family, and someday pass them on to my daughters. We capture what we can through photos, videos, memoirs and the like (like this blog), and recount with knowing smiles the small, hilarious, and touching stories of our children's mis-adventures, and maybe this is all enough for us to feel satisfied, content that someone else on this planet knows how special they really are, like we do. And yet there is so much more that is not shared, that is not talked or written about, so many moments that we have experienced as parents that have enriched us and made us who we are today. It is all there, I know, sitting in our parenting minds, perhaps never to see the light of day, and maybe that's ok. What would the world do with all that pain and frustration and sorrow? Surely the world would explode from so much joy, pride, and contentment. I wonder if these thoughts ever occurred to my parents,and their generation, and those that came before. Maybe they did, but then were they quickly extinguished? Who has time to philosophize when there's a house to clean or a meal to prepare. Just keep moving and get through the day. No complaints. No excuses. It's all just part of life. And at the end of the day, the last thing you want to think about is how to be a better parent. Perhaps when I am older, when my children are older, I will have more time to breathe, and then I can reflect and look back on these days with an easy grin. But will I remember everything? I fear not. I do not trust my aging brain, and I feel that if I do not record it now in some manner, then perhaps it will slip away and be lost forever. (This is the second part of a series. You can read the first part here.)
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Fun with iMovie '11 and the new "movie trailer" feature. Enjoy! |
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Juliet was tired. I think. And she was still nursing a cold. It was just the two of us, lounging around the house on a rainy day. Maddie was at school, due to be picked up in 45 minutes. I began to strategize my next mission.
So where were we? Oh yes, Juliet was lagging. My usual method of strolling her to sleep was out due to the weather. She doesn't fall asleep this way in less than 30 minutes anyhow, cutting it too close for my liking. I considered my next option. Although she is 14 months of age now, more toddler than baby, we still load her in a pouch from time to time and wear her around the house like some human-kangaroo hybrid, sans the leaping. Add to that a darkened room and a CD entitled Sounds for Silence("Blended and layered sounds to distract, engage and soothe unsettled babies") and you've got yourself a fine recipe for nodding off. Well, for Juliet anyways. We all know that every baby is different. We became motivated early in on in Juliet's life to find a way to sooth her on account of the colic. It took us many attempts before we hit on the right combination, a customized made-to-order solution that we were frankly quite proud of, as it has undoubtedly saved us from innumerable hours of moaning and crying. Once again, however, the timing of this procedure came into question. If Juliet was still asleep when we needed to hop into the car, the transfer from pouch to car seat would most certainly wake her, and she would not be happy. I know this to be true. I was left with my third and final option - driving her to sleep, old school style. Well, old school to me anyways. This was my method of choice during Maddie's early years - a slow, winding drive through the nearby hills. It usually happened on the tail end of running some errands. As we approached our street I would glance back to check on her status. If she appeared sleepy I would just keep going, zooming by our neighborhood. If not sleepy, then home it was. This all worked fine until she began to recognize our street, becoming highly distraught when I would just blow on by. These thoughts came to me like a dream as I loaded Juliet into the car. All of this felt so familiar, yet it was different now. Different car, different child, different me. Definitely different child. While Maddie had succumbed easily to the lulling movement of the auto, Juliet has been curiously resistant to the magic. In fact, she HATES the car seat. We have taken her on a few long road trips and she has successfully fought off sleep every time, with a mighty will and exhausting bouts of back arching and crying. So it is with some trepidation that I set off on down the road. I whistled nervously. "OK Juliet, here we go!" I flashed a half-hearted smile. She looked back suspiciously. As we began to wind our way past farms with open fields, I turned on the heat and the CD player. Sounds for Silence began to play, tunes that shall evermore be ingrained in my mind. Whenever I hear it now I instantly go into a trance, its hypnotic allure too powerful for the likes of me. I haven't fallen asleep at the wheel yet, but it is awfully relaxing. And when the whole family is riding along, well, look out. It's non stop excitement as we all begin to nod off in unison. Under these conditions, and given our wacky sensibility, we have dubbed our vehicle The Wombmobile. After about a mile I checked on Juliet. Her eyes were closing! And with 5 minutes to go until the Maddie Pickup. Yes! I turned the car around and headed back. Cows and horses turned their heads as we passed, wondering, no doubt, about the jubilant driver and the odd sounds emanating from this speeding vehicle. I pulled up to Maddie's school and parked just outside the gate. She emerged with her classmates a minute later. I went to meet her and led her back to the car. Soon we were home. Just another successful parenting mission. I love it when a plan comes together. (cue A-Team music) * Read more humorous stories about parenting @ www.googoodadda.com
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And so it came to pass, that all of the toys in the house mixed with all of the other toys, until they became one integrated whole, one massive field of multi-colored plastic and cardboard, scraps of paper and twine, loose crayons, pencils, lonely blocks of Lego and Duplo, spare Lincoln Logs next to fake vegetables next to tiny Strawberry Shortcake accessories on top of a very realistic Dora the Explorer and her friends, sitting beside Ariel the Little Mermaid with her interchangeable tails waving at Diego and his adventure car parked next to Hello Kitty's house next door to a perfectly affable Playmobil family and their two-story home, all amidst so many assorted books and bouncy balls and beads and marbles, playdough, stamps, stickers, stuffed animals, games, puzzles, and musical instruments of all variety, all made with gentle care for small, eager hands. Once unique, new, and sparkling in their packaging, these toys now co-mingle, naked, brushing rudely against each other, congregating throughout the house, hiding in every corner, peeking out from under every chair. Humble and equal, they have lost their originality, their individuality, reduced to a common, seething mass, as day by day, week by week, month by month, this grand toy armada shifts and shimmers, their orders a mystery. And finally, eventually, it happens. These faded, chipped, and broken toys let out a collective sigh, and quietly collapse into one enormous pile of molecules. Free of their bonds, now completely nameless, these tiny pieces of matter drift lightly skyward. They beckon to the call, like birds flying south, driven by some secret code at their core. Up they float, past the clouds, out into the universe, home again amongst the stars. They leave nothing behind, to the great chagrin of all. And they can't wait to do it all again. And so it is written. And so it shall be. * More @ www.googoodadda.com |
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With the holidays fast approaching, here are some nifty books that you might want to consider for that favorite son or daughter of yours. What’s that? Christmas is over? Damn. And I started this entry WEEKS ago. Guess that is what happens when you have another baby (now we have two girls, Maddie (4 years) and Juliet (5 weeks). Really, nothing gets done. It’s like moving in slow motion. So, I get a sentence in here, a word in there, slowly, methodically constructing my blog entry over the course of a month. More on this in a future post (can you say twenty-eleven)… OK, so where were we? Oh yes, a fun book you should buy. Would make a nice gift for Groundhog Day. There are currently several books on the market that cover the stay-at-home daddy world. Some of my favorites include… • The Daddy Shift by Jeremy Adam Smith and a few books by Po Bronson. But there are a scant number of children’s books devoted to the subject, which is what makes “Daddy Does The Dishes and other Daddy deeds” such a fresh and fun new addition to the world of parenting literature. It is cleverly written by Kori Reed, the wife of stay-at-home dad Mike Becker, and wonderfully illustrated by Kori’s sister Kendra Reed. There are two other books in the series, “My Daddy Can Touch The Moon” and “My Daddy is Supersillious”, with others on the way, all published by ReedFamilyBooks. Really, this book celebrates all fatherhood, not just sahd fatherhood. Check it out! more at http://www.googoodadda.com |
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I would jump in front of a speeding car to save my daughter’s life. I say this with no hesitation and with a really powerful conviction which surprises, and, frankly, scares the hell out of me. Where does this feeling come from? I experienced it from day one with Maddie, when I hardly knew her. To think, I would sacrifice my own life for that of a tiny little stranger. I knew when our daughter was born that I would be taking care of her a lot. I prepared as much as I could. I read all the books I could find, talked to other parents. I knew this would be a huge responsibility. This small creature would be completely dependent on me, for food, for shelter, for warmth, for moving about. Her life was, literally, in my hands. What I didn’t consider, and what I slowly came to realize, was that MY LIFE was in HER hands as well. This was a two way street. While I was busy nurturing this baby and helping her develop into a little girl, she was doing the same for me, helping me evolve into the father I am today. She has taught me patience, empathy, and honesty. My intentions have become much clearer, my resolve much stronger, my energy more focused. She keeps me grounded and present. She has helped define me as a person and shown me what I care for most deeply in life. We are connected on so many different levels and we affect each others behavior. My view of the world has changed. This is what has surprised and delighted me the most about becoming a parent. And to think, she’s accomplished all this and she’s only 4…
more at http://www.googoodadda.com
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