Losing the Battle, but Winning the War?

                                                             Comfortable Sydney


Well, it’s official. My daughter prefers my wife over me.

Sometimes it is subtle. She’ll sit and play with daddy, but she’s always stealing sideways glances at mommy to make sure she is still there. Other times, it is more obvious. The second mommy places her in daddy’s arms, the lower lip protrudes and the crocodile tears start flowing.

Ouch.

I guess I am just not the nurturing type. Who would have thought it?

As heartbreaking as it is to me to lose this contest with my wife, I am not the kind of guy to hold a grudge or seek revenge. I won’t punish my wife or my daughter for my failures. I am the kind of guy who rolls with the baby punches.

So, I penned the following email to my wife this week. I will let you know how it goes.

Honey,

It has become clear to me our daughter prefers your company over mine. This is heartbreaking to me, but I must accept the truth. You are number one in the race for her heart. I am chopped liver; you are scrumptious baby formula.

For the sake of our daughter’s future, we have to make her as comfortable as possible as often as possible. It will impede her development to force her to spend time at her most uncomfortable moments with anyone other than the person who absolutely soothes her best.

We must always make her feel as safe and secure as possible. As you know, I often worry about screwing up and raising a serial killer or a strung-out drug addict. I refuse to let this happen because of my selfishness. I will not force her to be with me at her most vulnerable times, the times when she really needs the person whom she prefers to comfort her.

Therefore, I propose we split the baby-rearing duties along the lines of “Duties Where Sydney is Uncomfortable” – those would be yours – and “Duties Where Sydney is Comfortable” – I will humbly accept these less-important tasks.

Clearly, Sydney is most uncomfortable when she has gone to the bathroom and needs her diaper changed. How embarrassing and shameful for her when daddy must answer this call. She is completely vulnerable at this time and absolutely must have the person with whom she feels most comfortable come to her aid. As much as it hurts, I cede this duty to you.

She’s also very uncomfortable during those 2 a.m. wake ups where she needs a bottle and a hug. Think about how scary it must be to wake up in the middle of the night to total darkness, the only sound being her mama snoring in the nearby room. I picture her little mind thinking, “Where is my mama? Where is the one person in the world I am most comfortable with?” I know I have come to adore these early-morning moments with her, but, for her sake, I will allow you to be in charge at these times. I promise to not get in the way and will force myself to sleep through them.

Her recent bout of double ear infection made me realize how uncomfortable sickness can be for a baby. She cried long and loud. My eardrums hurt more than her’s. I clearly did a horrible job soothing her. It is times like this when a young lass needs her mama. Again, as much as it pains me, I will stay out of your way. Maybe I will spend these nights in the spare bedroom with earplugs so as not to intrude on your mother-daughter time.

I only ask that you are as accommodating when it comes to my time with her.  She clearly has a great deal of comfort when she is playing, whether it be in her Jumperoo or with one of her many toys. Because this is a “safe” time for her, I will take on these duties. This is a time when she will be more likely to accept someone she is less comfortable with.

She also seems pretty comfortable when she is watching TV. She loves those colorful cartoons. I’ll take this duty. This requires someone who can sit with her for long periods of time and remain quiet, so as not to bother her. It won’t be easy, but I think I am the man for the job.

Nap time is also a very secure time for her. She even smiles sometimes when she sleeps. Clearly, she is happy and clearly this is a time when she would accept being watched over by #2 instead of #1. You can count on me.

I can see this method of operation working long into the future. You can take on the duties where she’ll most need you, such as potty training, menstruation and learning to drive. I will take on the less important tasks of reading bedtime stories, teaching how to hit the softball and chastity during the dating years.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now, let’s see how we adjust to the here and now. As I thought about how we might split these duties up, I realized that not all of the parenting duties can be listed. There are many moments not easily captured in a paragraph.

So I think we need a fallback. It is obvious to me that anytime Sydney is crying, she is uncomfortable and needs the loving arms of her mother. I propose that in those instances, I step aside. You feel free to do the same anytime she is giggling and smiling, as this is obviously a very comfortable time for her.

I hate losing, but I am not the kind of guy who doesn’t shake hands after a defeat. You seem to have won her heart. Let’s roll with it and make sure she develops in the most positive way possible. I think this is the blueprint for success when it comes to raising a healthy, happy daughter.

Love you!

Who is Tim Tebow?

I don’t know who Kim Kardashian is dating, whether Alec Baldwin has torn someone a new one lately or if Charlie Sheen is still WINNING.

I don’t know if the Miami Heat are on track to give Lebron his first championship (I hope not), whether the Massillon Tigers will be a playoff contender next high school football season (I hope so) or if Tim Tebow has ever had premarital sex (With the ladies he can pull, if he has not, he is indeed God on earth).

I am a parent of a 4-month-old. I know spit up, Enfamil and onesies. I know 4 a.m. wake ups, jumperoos and binkies.

I am daddy. Hear me roar.

My nights used to be leisurely. Stroll home about 6 p.m., kiss the wife, have some dinner, spend a couple of hours surfing the Web for interesting tidbits, watch a little television, hit the sack. I don’t even want to tell you what my life was like when I was just a single dude in a loose mood. Let’s just say doing what you want, when you want, never gets old.

Now, I hustle home as fast as I can to relieve my beleaguered wife, wolf down dinner during my daughter’s evening nap and spend the rest of the night alternating between the jumperoo, the activity floor mat and making funny noises to keep my daughter entertained.

Time for fun? I am the master of playing Words with Friends in one hand while feeding my daughter a bottle with the other.

(Speaking of Words with Friends, how about some of the losers on there? I am a former newspaper writer. I have a better vocabulary than 80 percent of the people I know. But somehow I end up playing people who can play a dozen words I have never heard uttered. The other day, a guy plays "ohed" and "hm" on me. Seriously? You are either cheating or a competitive Scrabble player who should be ashamed of yourself for stooping to play Words with Friends.)

Back to my new life. I haven’t read Deadspin.com in four months. Great site for crazy sports stories. They broke the story about Brett Favre texting a picture of his schlong to a co-worker while with the New York Jets. Who the hell does this stuff? Listen guys, if at any time you feel the need to take a picture of your schlong and text it, you are 1) really, really confident and 2) a COMPLETE IDIOT.

Anyway, I never read deadspin without laughing. I love to laugh. Yet, I have not visited the site since about September. I love to keep up on happenings in the journalism world, but I rarely visit Poynter’s media gossip site anymore and I haven’t even seen Jim Romenesko’s new site.

ESPN.com? Yes, still a daily must. But reading my hometown newspaper, the Massillon Independent, has gone by the wayside. I no longer know when some of my high school classmates get divorced, foreclosed on or busted for drug possession or drunk driving, depriving me of my right to feel superior to all those kids who thought they were cooler than me 30 years ago.

I do read the Cincinnati Enquirer still, but that is because it is a must for my job and I can get away with reading online at work. But I don’t have time to read my buddy Paul’s blog and see if his kids are still scoring soccer goals with Pele-like precision.

I do catch a little news every now and then. I know Rick Santorum is bat-shit conservative, Newt Gingrich is full of bull-shit for thinking African Americans make up the majority of people on food stamps, and that the working man is going ape-shit over Mitt Romney’s 15-percent tax rate.

I also know some chicken-shit Italian cruise captain abandoned ship early.

But now I get my info from the first 20 minutes of the Today Show while stuffing a morning bottle in my daughter’s mouth. No in-depth analysis for me. I haven’t studied enough to vote for American Idol, let alone a Republican presidential candidate.

What else am I not doing enough of?

Going for drinks with friends. People stare at you funny when you bring a baby to a bar.

Cleaning my house. When I have a few precious seconds of down time, I refuse to spend it with a vacuum in my hand. If Children’s Services wants to take my kid away for a dirty house, they’ll have to fight through a mountain of dirty clothes and dishes to get to her.

Making love to my wife. I’m 45 years old. I have a choice between five hours of sleep a night or four hours and fifty minutes. That extra ten minutes of sleep means a lot.

The understatement of the day would be to say my life is different. Even with my wife doing the bulk of the work, parenting is time-consuming. You don’t ever want to start anything new because you never know when you are going to hear the words, “How about Daddy takes over and plays with you for awhile?”

You don’t ever want to get too engrossed in a television show, because the next thing you know she is plopping off the couch and landing on her head.

You don’t ever want to use BOTH hands to play Words with Friends because the second that bottle drops from her lips, the blood-curdling screams start.

You get the picture. 

The other day I worked on staff evaluations all day on a Sunday. Talk about feeling guilty. My wife looked like Nick Nolte’s mug shot by the time I got home.

This parenting thing is a sacrifice. I accept it. I love my daughter. For the next few years, I am prepared to miss Kim Kardashian’s next marriage, Lebron James next failure and Lady Gaga’s next Madonna rip off.

But please, if Tim Tebow finally does get laid, somebody email me a picture of the chick.

Daddy Turns Into a Softie

A guy in my office told me having a child will expand my range of emotions. He said I will feel everything deeper and I will feel things I’ve never felt before.

He was right.

I have a job that involves abused and neglected children. Thankfully, I do not do the real social work. Those people are true angels who have to deal with situations and people no one should ever have to encounter. I have the easier task of handling communications and dealing with the media.

Still, I am frequently involved in discussing the intimate details of cases where children die or are hurt. I cannot publicly discuss them, but believe me when I say what parents and others do to children would sicken you to the point of throwing up. I cannot stress this enough: there are people out there who torture children. If you think today’s child abuse is something along the lines of what happened when your mom or dad knocked you around a little to set you straight, you are greatly mistaken. Whether because they are drugged up, mentally ill or just plain violent, there are people doing things to children that is beyond comprehension.  

And that is my point. While these cases have always elicited great emotion from me, I feel it much deeper now. I picture my little girl every time I hear the details of a case, and that nearly brings me to tears sometimes. It always makes me extremely angry.

I now know how tiny a four-month-old is and how ridiculous it would be to say the beating you gave them was punishment. I now understand how bathing a baby works and find it inexcusable that someone would attempt it while high on drugs or drunk on hard liquor. I cringe when I hear a father has isolated their little one, making them sleep in the bathroom or not feeding them.

I get angry enough to fight.  

That’s just one example of the way my emotions have changed over the past four months.

I have already told you I am not the kind of guy who gets excited about much. But I greatly anticipate the future I have with my daughter. I’m eager for that day we can talk and I can teach her things. I wonder what it will be like to come home and have her come running for a hug. I can’t wait until we can watch a football game together and I can discuss the Cover 2 defense with her.  

I get angry and sad knowing that she will be picked on at some point in her life, or have her heart broken. I have already told my wife I will watch sporting events away from the rest of the crowd because if I hear someone criticize my daughter, there WILL BE a fight.

One of my biggest emotions is fear I won’t be around to experience all of these times with her.

At Christmas, my mother-in-law gave my daughter a gift from a great grandmother she will never know. It got me thinking about all the people in Sydney’s life who would have loved and cherished her and how she will never have the chance to meet them. Her mom’s grandmother. My father. Most of my grandparents.

What if something happened to me or her mom? How much more difficult would Sydney’s life  be. How would my wife or I handle raising our girl without the other parent? How would we keep that missing parent’s memory alive for our daughter?

These are things I never used to think about. Now, with Sydney, I do all the time. It chokes me up. Having a kid has made me a softie. I cry at Hallmark commercials.

It is both difficult and fun to feel highs and lows that I haven’t felt in a very long time. That’s a good thing. The great basketball coach Jim Valvano said everyone should laugh, cry and think every day.

I agree. 

Shaping a Baby the Wrong Way

Ok, so kids are a combination of their parents. I hope Sydney gets my smaller head over her mother’s coconut-looking noggin. Brooke hopes Sydney gets her feet instead of my Fred Flintstone-like paws. I regret that she got my door-knob of a chin.

But what will she learn from me and what will she learn from Brooke? How will we shape this little girl’s personality? I had a seven hour drive over the holidays, and I thought about it. Seven hours is a long time. And it was a Monday, so I couldn’t even listen to sports.

What she will learn from me:

·         to yell at the television during sporting events.

·         to eat six slices of pizza and still be hungry

·         to keep all the blinds in the house closed so no one can see her walking around in her underwear

·         to double down on 11 and split aces and eights

·         to draft the perfect team in fantasy football

·         to live as much as possible in one room so the others remain clean

·         to consider a slow stroll around the neighborhood brisk exercise

·         to communicate with everyone via Facebook, email, blog, etc. so she never has to pick up the phone

  

What she will learn from Brooke:

·         to yell at the television during reality shows

·         to shop for Christmas on the day AFTER Christmas (This is a smart thing women must learn at birth.)

·         to have a million pillows on the bed that serve no purpose

·         to buy all kinds of jewelry she’ll never wear

·         to lose her keys six times in one week

·         to buy a dining room table that she’ll rarely eat at, but will use for storage (For this, I gave up my pool table which could have held a lot more scrapbooking items than the table.)

·         to buy a phone plan with a gazillion minutes and still somehow go over her limit

Ok, maybe these are things I don’t want my daughter to learn. In the end, who really knows what she will turn out to be? That’s the excitement of it all.

All I really know is she will laugh a lot and make people laugh; she’ll be compassionate and kind to those who are less fortunate; she’ll be intelligent and street smart; she’ll be respectful of people from all walks of life and she’ll know the value of hard work and will work hard to get what she needs in life. These are all qualities both of her parents possess, so she’s a “can’t miss” on those.