Attachment and Desire

The Daddy Life has been silent for some months now. Roughly two months, between the time when my boy moved from 15 months young to 17 months old. I assure you that we are all well and busy, navigating the paths of Christmastime, family, the new year, and co-op preschool.

Somewhere in the midst of all those traditions, my little boy took new steps toward becoming a person. He has begun to express preference and WANT things. And I mean REALLY want them. He is no longer to be distracted by a quick switch from the toybox, or a funny face, or a book. He REMEMBERS. He's a persistent little guy.

Sometimes he gets what he wants, and sometimes he doesn't. We have been very careful not to introduce the word NO into his 20 word vocabulary, but it's bound to come out soon. Instead, we try to find ways to moderate our language.

ME: (very calmly) We don't put our hands in the toilet water. You can wash your hands in the sink.

JEEP: (splash splash)

Fortunately, he's still small enough that I can pick him up and remove him from most situations. Last week he was underfoot while we were in the kitchen making dinner. His mother and I were both standing nearby when he GRABBED A PAN OFF THE STOVE. What the H? How did this kid get so tall? He's tall enough to get things off the countertop, but still too small to trust near the stove. Superdad over here snatched that hot pan right out of his little hands before there were sauteed onions all over the room.

There are boundaries, and then there are REAL boundaries. The ones that involve safety are hard and fast. I might have yelled out a NO! on that one.

As the Stay-At-Home-Parent, I am sure that the setting of boundaries and molding of behavior will fall on my shoulders. I have experience in this, from my former career as a special education teacher. But never before have I been quite so closely tied to my client.

I tend to laugh it off when he gives me THE LOOK (see below). But who am I kidding? I love this little guy, and I hate to see him upset.

I guess my job is changing again. Its moving from keeping my boy safe, dry, clothed, and well-fed, and into more challenging arenas. He has discovered DESIRE. There are eastern religions which attribute attachment and desire as the cause of all unhappiness. I don't really buy that. My boy has a boundless capacity for happiness, and I won't squash it. Have we entered the realm of PHILOSOPHY here? Does it fall upon me to teach my boy to moderate his own desires in the world around him?

Number One in Our Hearts

Jeep is 15 months old today! It has been an amazing run.

Trip report: our first baby has successfully crossed the line to small person. Tonight his mom asked out loud - "Jeep, how can you be so short, but still be such a regular person in every other way?" He was banging all the pots in the kitchen with a carboard wrapping paper tube. It turns out that they all make slightly different sounds. Jude did not reply to this, but I could see some sarcasm in his gaze as he glanced back at her. What are you thinking, you little monster? Maybe something like, "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Jeep has successfully completed the race distance of 15 months of life. There was a close call at the Children's Museum treehouse last week, but we've put that behind us. Tonight he was awarded this medal for bravery in combat and courage under fire. Actually, he just found it in the toy bin and wouldn't put it down. But it looks good on him.

What will the next months bring? Our boy is healthy and happy in every way. You had better live it up, little Jeep. There is a little sister or brother on the way that will change your life forever. In the meantime, you get all our cheers, all our attention, and all our love. Go for the gold, baby! Sprint it to win it!

Be the Man Your Kids Want You To Be

I've had some sobering news this past few weeks.

A close friend was in a car crash late at night on a curvy road. There were four people in the car, and they had all been drinking. My friend was driving, and the accident crushed both of his legs. His girlfriend is under intensive care, and the other passengers were thrown from the vehicle, but walked away unharmed.

I visited my friend in the hospital. His injuries were healing, but his emotions were still on a roller coaster. He reminded me of another night, about a year ago, when were were out drinking and driving around the city. "You are the shittiest designated driver I've ever seen," I had joked. That wasn't quite so funny anymore.

Another friend recently confessed to me that he was drinking too much in the evenings. This was time spent at home with his family, and he wanted to break the pattern. He found that the hour between arriving home and having dinner was a crucial one for self discipline, so he arranged his computer calendar to send him text messages every 15 minutes with reminders. These reminders would say things like "Be the man your children want you to be." That is some heavy emotional blackmail, if you ask me, but it was effective. I admire this.

I told you those two stories so I could tell you about this one.

Yesterday a couple followed some tire tracks off the road near a creek on the Oregon coast. They found an upturned SUV, filling with water, the passengers hysterical. Children were crying. They called emergency services, and a local guy heard it on the police scanner. (Who listens to a police scanner on a Wednesday afternoon?) He jumped in his truck and drove up the road.

The first man plunged into the water to help remove the passengers and couldn't open the doors. He broke the windshield with a rock to rescue the driver, a woman in her twenties. The second man arrived on scene and entered the water with a knife in his hand. He found the children in the back seat and cut their seatbelt straps, then passed them to safety through the icy water.

The woman was hysterical. "There's three!" she yelled, "He's in the front seat!" That's when the men went back into the water and found the six-month old baby, strapped into the carseat, submerged in the water. They cut the baby out, carried him to shore, and began CPR on the little lifeless body as sirens and paramedics arrived at the scene. Doctors were able to revive the little boy, who is listed in critical condition.

The police indicated that the driver was "very intoxicated" at the time of the crash.

There were a number of rescuers that day, made up of friends and neighbors and good samaritans, but I cannot stop thinking about those two men in the water.

These are sobering stories. This is not meant to be a comment on the dangers of alcohol, or a confession of fears, or a condemnation of drunken drivers. These stories bring up a lot of feelings for me.

Maybe I want to point out this simple fact: parenting is a sobering activity. Learning to love and be loved by the children in your life is its own kind of rush. Taking good care of your own little family brings many surprising rewards. It leaves me a little unsettled, and quiet, and much, much more careful.

If I'm going to be the man my boy wants me to be, then I need to remember these stories. I want to be the man in the river, holding the knife. That's the man I want to be, and I think I can be that man. I might to have to get a good knife.

Here's the story.

http://www.oregonlive.com/news/index.ssf/2009/11/rescuers_wade_into_a_lincoln_c.html

Fall Adventures

The Daddy Life and son are compelled to report on a successful adventure.

Jeep, Daddy, and our good friend all drove out to see my grandmother on a bright fall day. The weather was warm, we played in the leaves, drove through small towns, ate french fries, went for a hike, and generally wore ourselves out.

We dropped off my friend and rolled back into Portland just as the sun was fading. Setting sun, slow traffic, children's music on the radio, and The Daddy Life experienced something he hasn't felt in a long while.

I was tired.

We got home, fed the Jeep, read some books, and he went to bed an hour early.

At this point I had a brilliant and startling realization. Being a Dad, living "the daddy life," and generally fulfilling the needs, wants, and dreams of my 1 year old son - this is an exhausing job. This day we had together, this fall adventure was everything I could have hoped for. I was my best daddy self, and my boy was happier for having shared the day with me.

We had a grand and successful adventure, and I welcome years more of them. Maybe I just never realized how easy my own dad made it look! But Damn! My full time job is a lot of WORK.

Halloween

This is my favorite holiday.

Halloween is the only holiday left in our mainstream, washed out version of suburban American culture in which the unexpected can happen. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Groundhog Day, Easter, 4th of July, or the Day that the Blazers Make the Playoffs? Sure, these days have a lot of goodwill, brotherly love, and church attendance to go around. But HALLOWEEN is the only holiday in which we OPEN OUR DOORS to the general public. It is generally accepted that groups of costumed children will roam the streets, knock on doors, take their handfuls of chocolate largesse, and disappear into the night. There is also this underlying assumption that people will scare each other, and the potential for childhood fear adds a mixture of excitement and adrenaline.

I've never been one for Haloween parties. For me, the real action happens at the front door. Most years, I don't even have a costume to speak of. I just put on some kind of crazy wig, and a funny hat, long tights, a cape, and anything else that looks crazy. Then I make a big fire, we drink cider, and I lie in wait for the little cherubs to come and visit.

This year will be no different. The script will play out as it always does. But this year, we will go out on the early Daddy rounds, knocking on our neighbors' doors before the real ghouls and goblins come out to play. Jeep will be dressed as a pumpkin. Daddy will be wearing a warm coat and holding a cold hand. If you see us, wave hello! This is my favorite holiday, after all. But maybe, just maybe, it's because I love the tricks and treats.

The SAHD Gig Ain't for Everyone

I may have mentioned, but I think I'm a pretty good dad.

Specifically, I'm a good Stay-At-Home-Dad. If indeed the Stay-At-Home-Dad movement is really a movement and not just a bunch of guys too bored or lazy to work, then I definitely belong to it. Hell, I'm an advocate. I think all guys should be SAHDs. Unfortunately, I have discovered that the daddy life is not for everyone, and for some it's a downright bad idea.

This is the story of a bad stay-at-home dad. He's a good dad, but he'd be better off with a job and a good daycare. Sometime early last year, I met this guy and his young son. We'll call him Curtis. He lives in my neighborhood, and we "hooked up" through our wives who met one night while they were walking their respective infants through the hills of West Portland.

Sadly, this is a classic story of young romance and harsh breakup. I was excited to meet another dude whose situation was so similar to my own. But somehow there was no spark. We met a few times, took our kids for hikes, and met up at the library story hour. We even we went out for lunch. Not only did this SAHD "dating" make me feel like Harvey Milk with a 1-year-old, it just wasn't fun.

Curtis was a downer. He had a generally negative outlook on the world, and seemed unhappy with every aspect of raising his child. Eventually, our relationship devolved into a bi-monthly phone call and a halfhearted attempt to get together. Let's be honest here - I blew the guy off. He was genuinely looking for dad-friend, a buddy to hang with and ease his burden down the lonely road of childcare. I just couldn't be that guy.

The last several times we talked on the phone, we had the same conversation. I would say (in all honesty) "I'm pretty busy this week." Curtis would reply, (skeptically) "That's amazing." Then there would be this short pause, where we both considered what this might mean.

I feel bad for this guy. He didn't see his days ahead of him filled with adventure. The wonders of learning to walk, read books, climb stairs, and eat with a fork were lost on him. A few short years ago, I would have found these things just as dull. It makes me wonder - what is the difference between us?

My life with the boy isn't just baby talk and diaper changes. I don't stay at home, watching the clock. We go out EVERY DAY. While it is true that I don't cover as much ground as I used to, pre-baby, we still use every minute of our day to find some action, go out to lunch, or walk through the park. I figured out early, to make this thing work, you've got to have some get up and go in you.

Playing with Fire

My boy is thirteen months old now. He has seen a lot in his short life, travelled, and experienced the love of his parents and family. He had a good run as a baby, and now we are rapidly moving into the land of Toddler, also known as the Land of the Lost.

I say Lost, because that is how my Toddler seems. He can't say real words yet, and really only points at what he wants. We tried to teach him some signs, but he seems to prefer the "Uhh-uhh-uhhh" that is so effective when coupled with a pointed finger or hand. At times, he seems to want everything, and nothing at once. He is exploring everything, which makes the Daddy Life very nervous.

Over the past week we have had a cold in the Daddy Life household. This means that we are home more, wearing sweats and slouching around the house. The kitchen is a minor wreck, and on top of that, the Indian Summer has turned into Fall Chill. One of my many household duties, The Daddy Life started a fire in the fireplace.

This has provided young Jeep with one of the first opportunities to test the limits of his parents and their newfound parenting skills. The fireplace is one of the first arenas in which we are beginning to struggle with the magic word: NO.

Actually, I don't say NO at all. I say BE CAREFUL, IT'S HOT. And then of course my young Toddler looks at me to make sure I am watching, and moves to touch the fireplace screen anyway, which isn't really that hot. So then I pick him up and move him away and we find something else to entertain ourselves. This has worked pretty well, but suddenly these limits are sprouting up all over the house.

NO, YOU CAN'T PUT YOUR HAND IN THE TOILET (while closing the lid)

NO, THAT IS DADDY'S CUP OF COFFEE (I give Jeep his own plastic mug for pretend coffee)

NO, YOU CANNOT STAND ON THE KITCHEN TABLE. WE STAND ON THE FLOOR.

When he wants something that I don't want to give him, I usually just sweep him up in my arms, carry him out of the room, and we find something else to focus on. This almost always works.

I can see trouble brewing on the horizon.