Baby Madness

April showers are falling and the baby day looms.

This past week has been something of a reckoning for me and my little family. Life changed when the Mama stopped working to go on maternity leave, and even our boy noticed the difference. We all had varied responses.

Jeep was suddenly up a night, displaying crazy attachments, and generally out of sorts. It was kind of a "WTF?!? Why is Mom home all the time?" kind of response. I think he knows the game is up, and asks about baby all the time.

But Mama and the Daddy Life deal with the coming changes in their own ways.

First there were the lists: a slavish attempt to control the future and prepare for all possible eventualities. This is my wife's response to stress, I think. I began to resent them immediately, but of course I knew enough to just get out of the way.

Me? I played more golf, and filled up all my "extra" hours in the day with cocktails and cooking projects. This was not helpful in the other extreme.

Of course there was a crash, and it came on suddenly, with blunt force. There was no fight, and in fact my wife was very sweet. It involved a half magnum of white wine, a complex recipe for coq au vin, and a late night kitchen accident that could have happened to anybody.

The bottom line, Mama has been steeped in something akin to dread. New baby coming, late nights, no sleep, boob whispering, toddler neediness, et cetera, et cetera. Daddy was thinking along some other lines: how can I get my short game under control, drop my handicap, get out for a run, drop my boy at pre-school, meet the boys for drinks, and pick up a pizza? Basically, avoidance.

I pictured our "maternity leave" month as something different. I was thinking more along the lines of vacation, walks in the park, and time spent together as a family. I was also thinking of action, projects, and dinner parties. I wanted all of this before it changed, before we lost track of the sweet mornings in bed with our little boy, laughing and reading and playing and soaking up the love of two parents at once. Any day now the little girl will come, and our family circle will explode into something new. There will be baby diapers and visitors and presents and cooing and crying and it will all be wonderful and sticky sweet and a little sad for me.

The loss of this time we are in now sits heavily with me. So I have reformed myself, to savor it. I cut out the drinks, and ramp up my exercise. I work on the lists, and drop the social events. I am trying to embrace the quiet, but I know that I come off as surly and recalcitrant.

Well, we are what we are. Sometimes the madness takes us, and spits us out as something we never expected. I think this is the root of it for me. I know how becoming a father to the Jeep changed me entire life experience. Will Daddy's little girl knock me off my balance? I know with certainty that change is never easy, but I will do my best to rise to it.

My gut tells me that it will both impossibly hard, and the most natural thing in the world. Sacrifice, humility, and acceptance will all come easily when the time is right. I love my boy Jeep so impossibly that I would allow him to ruin me. How much more will I feel this for my girl?

Daddy Addy

My life as the daddy rolls on.

I seem to be well-suited for the changing faces of fatherhood. The boy is both challenging and charming, and Mama's growing belly gives us all a sense of the future. I report myself as happy and settled into the rhythms of stay-at-home parenting. The Daddy Life was conceived out of my own discomforts and anxieties of this new "career change" into fatherhood. It serves as a record of my (mostly) anonymous alter-ego and the strange trip we're on around here.

Jeep is healthy and well. We survived the travel to Mexico, the tantrums, the strange food, and the mosquito bites. He has undergone stunning changes these past months. His desires remain strong, and his language and energy are increasing to keep pace. My boy is active and soaking up the world around him. Full blown tantrums have decreased, but they still lie there under the surface. It seems to me that Jeep has stepped back from the edge of TOTALLY LOSING IT. Maybe he discovered that its not much fun, and doesn't get him what he wants.

The weather is changing - it is spring here in the Pacific Northwest. We go for walks now, these short rambles up the street or through the park to take note of all the important things: dogs, birds, flowers, pine cones, and buses. There is a lot of pointing and naming. Daddy gets outside for some ambitious work in the yard and an occasional ambitious golf game. Last week was spring break, and Jeep seemed relieved to return to the routines of school.

The baby is coming. My wife begins her maternity leave today, with roughly four weeks before Birthday Zero. The house is showing signs of her arrival. A room has been prepared, furniture moved, and baby clothes sorted. I am beginning to feel the warmth of a new life in our home. Our new little girl will bring a new dimension to our family life. This morning as I write this, I am feeling the awe and weight of the coming changes.

Growing

I was putting the Jeep down to bed one night this week and a startling thought entered my head.

This job, being a dad to my own little boy who loves me, this is the best job I've ever had. I feel happier, more satisfied, more fulfilled, and I finish each day with a profound sense of purpose and well-being.

I've been entrusted with a sacred responsibility, and the potential to fuck it up is great. This initially brought me a fair amount of daddy anxiety, but I must be gaining more confidence in my new career. Each day I watch my little baby grow into a boy and my boy grow into a man. The potential for success is giddying.

No wonder welfare mothers have twelve children. I totally get it.

The Tantrum Faze

He looks so sweet. My little boy, crouched at Daddy's knee, plays happily with a spoon. We carry on delightul father-son banter while Dad smokes a pipe or reads the paper or sips his Manhattan project. This is not the stay-at-home-dad world that we actually live in, but let me carry on a little longer in my fantasy. Son, let me tell you about the important things. "Yes, Daddy?" He sits, amazed, as I tell tales of pre-baby travel, romantic exploits, and clever comebacks. "Wow, Dad - you're my hero!" Of course I am, son, of course I am.

There is some truth to this fantasy, I am sure. I think that at some stage all little boys make heroes of their fathers. They want to grow up in their father's image, and imagine their own hopes and dreams. And my boy loves me madly, despite the fact that we are the hard-hearted Cry-It-Out parents you've all heard about. But babies grow into little people, and those people begin to develop their own motivations and desires. They call this the toddler stage of childhood. It comes before the terrible twos and after the thrill of learning to walk.

Until just recently I thought parenting through this stage was going to be pretty easy. And then suddenly, the tantrums began. Tantrums are something I have been expecting. I understood, rationally, that young children have a disconnect between what they want and what they are able to say. I also thought I would be able to control my reaction, or emotional response to these occurences. Be patient, don't take it personally, et cetera. Those were my expectations, but the reality is somewhat different.

My boy throws tantrums over stupid things. He doesn't want to wear the blue jacket. He wants to watch Elmo. He doesn't want the orange peel to touch any part of his plate. He wants to hold his own spoon when we eat the yogurt. These are simple things, and I know my boy well enough to read his desires. This is not the problem. The problem is that the desires are SO STRONG. It is like he just learned to want something and now suddenly it is ALL HE WANTS. He becomes fixated on that one thing with such force that is scares him. It is almost a chemical reaction to his emotions. I MUST DRINK FROM THAT EMPTY BEER BOTTLE. Or the world will end. Period.

Second, I am surprised at my impatience with these behaviors. A few times now he has gone completely out of control. I have used the strategy of picking him up, carrying him away for a few moments (maybe 30 seconds?) and letting him cry. Then I give him some sympathy, explain that we can't COMPLETELY LOSE OUR SHIT like that. We have to maintain some modicum of acceptable social behavior. Then I ask, "Do you want to try again?" Through the tears, the response has always been "Yeah." We try again, and everything goes much better the second time. I hate to take it to that level. WAY better to distract, give him what he wants, or just move on from this increasingly whiny emotional roller coaster.

We leave on a family vacation this month. Mommy, Jeep, and Daddy will all be traveling the world, eating in restaurants, sleeping in strange hotels, and chasing bands of developing-world stray dogs around the beach. I fully expect the tantrum monster to take on new life with the rigors of travel and schedule interruptions. What will the Daddy Life do to combat this monster? Stay tuned.

Naturalist Daddy

While my boy was sleeping yesterday, I spied a bird of prey out the window.

This stage of parenting is an interesting one for me. Being home alone during nap time has been a constant struggle with my own restlessness. I can't (in good conscience) step out for a walk, or a trip to the store, or a quick nine holes. I also seem to avoid getting involved in "house projects," as the nursery and the tools are in very close proximity. That leaves me with cooking, reading, and computer time during Jeep's naps.

Occasionally I come up with something that sparks my interest. We've been interested in eagles these days, so I tried to catch this guy with my ten-dollar telescope off the back deck. Managed to snap this shot with the camera before he flew off after some field mice.

Co-operation

Last year about this time I made a discovery that has profoundly enriched my experience as a stay-at-home-parent: we found a co-op preschool for Jeep.

From the beginning, Jeep was interested in other children. I knew instinctively that my job as a Stay-At-Home-Parent (SAHP) would be to find and facilitate these social interactions as much as possible. So of course I was enthusiastic when I stumbled upon a local co-op preschool with a "young toddler" classroom for kids aged 1-2 years. We visited, we loved it, and we signed him up.

My boy was born in late August, which makes him the youngest among his peers for life in the school system. Schools generally send kids with September birthdays into the next school year. Jeep turned 1 in August, and in September he started school. He had just learned to walk.

This particular school is only available to SAHPs, because it requires parents to work one "shift" throughout the week. School runs from 9am to 1pm, and there is a full time teacher there every day. We sing, we read books, we play outside, and we go for walks. Jude knows the other children, and they know him. We have gotten to know other families, and I have been exposed to some different methods of parenting and child management.

The people at the co-op are not my best friends. But somehow, someway, the experience of parenting together (often in close quarters) creates an intimacy that comes quickly. I trust these people to raise my child. In return, the takeaway for Jeep is huge. He loves our class, the children, the teacher, and the other parents. When I walk out the door on my "daddy day off" he doesn't even look up.

There was something lost when our modern civilization moved out of small communities and into the developed world of private homes and freeway commuting. We lost the mentality of the village. In a place like our co-op, we have managed to find it again.

Where would I be without them? I am basically a gregarious person. It helps make the sometimes lonely occupation of stay-at-home-parenting a little more friendly.

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?