Our First Trip Down Daycare Lane

Having been able to subsist through the good graces of relatives and friends for our baby sitting needs for the past three and a half years has been a blessing indeed. Now, today, for the first time ever we left our 3 1/2 year old daughter with complete strangers (who work at a bonafide, certified child care facility). It was might unnerving I must admit. We, of course, went and checked it out ahead of time, and asked all the pertinent questions and saw all the qualifying certificates, but even still there was a little first timer's fear in the back of my mind as I knew that my daughter was being 'taken care of' by complete strangers at a new place to her and us. It was her that I was concerned about the most---her impression and experience of the place and people. It's a good thing that my daughter is such a sociable kid, and shyness is not a word that comes to mind when I think of her. In fact, I think , at least at this stage that she's a kind of communal kid. She'd love nothing better than to live with a whole gaggle of children, and if that wish were granted she'd probably tell her mom and I that we could come visit a couple times a month or something like that. Even at three and a half she displays a serious dose of individuality and independence. Her mom and I are not planning on having any more kids, so her army of compadres will have to come from the outside world. So, maybe this whole 'occasional daycare need' will turn out to be good for her well-roundedness. I sure hope so. Kids need to be together. We'll have to see how she feels about it later in the week.

Front Butt, Back Butt....huh?

We are going to have to give our 3 year old Shayla a Toddler's anatomy lesson. I guess it is the time for more words and a little more info for her to take in and digest. Just this evening she was holding herself and I saw it and asked, "Do you have to go pee-pee?". "No. I was just scratching my 'front butt'. I don't have to pee-pee.", she said. "Okay. Well you know that's not your butt, right?", I asked. "Yes, it is. This is my 'front butt' ", she said pointing to her front, "and this is my 'back butt' ", she affirmed as she touched her behind.
"Ahh, I see. Well, that's not totally correct you know?...... *There's a little pause of silence as I search for the term that would be appropriate in mixed company because I know that it'll come out whenever she feels the need to explain what she's got her hand on and what she's up to with that. :-)*..... For now, let's just call the front your 'privates', okay? We'll call your 'butt' the actual part of your body that IS your butt, and the front we'll call your 'privates', okay?", I asked having buttoned it all up tight,...for now. "Okay", she said.
That's it for now. We're good for anatomy education for another 4 or 5 weeks, I think. Beyond that, we will probably need an update. Things are moving fast these days. :)
Parenting has so many comical moments it's almost impossible to log them all, but it sure is fun trying.

Running, Big Sticks, and Hot Coffee

Normally I would not make the silly mistake of trying to drink a hot cup of coffee while entertaining my 3 1/2 year old on my lap. I use the word 'entertaining' very loosely. It was more like "Daddy, I'm going to sit on your lap okay?". "Okay", I said as resistance is futile and besides, I like to have her in my lap for short clips of time. I would go for longer stretches than 3-4 minutes if she would sit still, but that may never be her way. She has been on the move since she was born--no exceptions. This was even true when she was on her back before the days of her Olympic crawling sessions. Even then, her limbs were on the move although they were not carrying her body anywhere at that time. That didn't seem to concern her. It was the act of some part of her moving in some form or fashion that was the means to that all-encompassing end called adventure or experience.
Today, as I patiently sat awaiting all the neurons in my brain to begin firing in some semblance of co-operation betwixt them all as I was mindlessly swilling my first cup of the dangerously thick brew that I call coffee, my toddler runs towards me as she returns from her routine morning inspection of the front yard. I unconsciously block all that is valuable to my person, for although I am always into her affection---she is dangerous! She doesn't know this of course. What 3 1/2 year old child does? None. "Dangerous how?" you may ask. Dangerous in the sense that not all parts of her body are committed to communicating with each other with every step that she makes. The arms may have one idea (of what they are going to do and where they are going) and the legs quite another. The resultant response is a shallow fear on the part of her dad when quick, impulsive action is underway. In these moments I am looking to protect myself as well as her---from Her. It sometimes takes an amazing amount of dexterity and agility to pull off the proper defensive move that satisfies the protection needed on both fronts. It's quite comical really, especially when you succeed. When you don't, well...it's less than comical. This morning we were dressed in nice clean clothes, she and I. We had come outside to greet the day and to sense what kind of day it would be. It was known within the first 5 seconds: Ah, yes. Muggy and it will be hot as hell by 2 in the afternoon. It was pleasant at the time, but the muggy quality was screaming hello by impregnating the clothes with dampness and covering the skin with excess moisture. This is Texas after all. I sit down with my coffee on one of the porch chairs as Shayla speeds off to harass all the insect inhabitants of our front lawn over grown with clover as it is. She runs in circles and then doubles back to go the other way, who knows why, but it's pleasing to look at as it gives the semblance of balance. Here we are, the young and the 'not that young' enjoying our simple pleasures. Me: being stationary, and she: running around in circles and other patterns with a big stick looking for things to hit. A type of 'Odd Couple' all over again, but in quite a different sense. It is in this state of relaxed, yet not quite awake, 'reverie' that my little 'bundle of hypertension' wordlessly bolts towards me. I unconsciously cross my legs and stiffen up a bit in preparation for one of our seemingly routine collisions. She then comes to a full stop right in front of me.
"Hey, Daaaaadie?" she coos.
"Yes, Honey?"
"Can I climb up in your lap?"
"Sure" I say as I relax and uncross my legs and allow her passage up.
We sit there perfectly happy for several minutes until I go to grab my cup of coffee off the porch's side table....
Young children do not know the reality of physical cause and effect timing. I think it takes them years to learn what that is. Sometimes we, as parents forget that for a moment here and there, to warn and prep the child for what is about to take place and thus subsequently reap the effects of poorly orchestrated timing.
I failed to tell Shayla that I was about to grab my coffee and to stay still. I grabbed it and brought it to within inches of my lips and just then she shifted her whole body to get more comfortable which resulted in us wearing that cup of medium hot coffee. Fortunately the coffee had cooled down a fair amount, but was still quite warm. She was genuinely shocked. That, in itself was pretty comical---the look of shock at gravity having done it's job. We didn't get burned, but our fresh clothes were now soiled and had to be changed. Since the coffee had cream and sugar in it we had to stick her in the shower and both of us required a change of clothes.
Afterwards we had a little talk about gravity and liquids, and trying to be still while sitting in Daddy's lap. Impossible I know, but I just hope that one of these days something more than just sugar, will 'stick'.

"Come Here, Boy!!": My Toddler's Universal Display of Affection.

One of the very pleasurable and many times hilarious aspects of raising a child is the stage in which they are learning their birth language. First, there are the unintelligible sounds that later become the consonants and vowels that make up the words they will use. This stage is one of audible attention on the part of the parents with nothing much more to do than observe. Next comes the stage of object and action identification where they assign these clusters of primal sounds to things and tasks in their environment. This is a slightly comedic stage with more work than comedy per se because you find yourself repeating back to them the word that you ascertain that they are trying to say ad nauseum. Yes, it's hard work as many of you know, but nonetheless it is rewarding and totally necessary on Planet Parenthood. The stage that follows this last one has been personally the best for me, as a father who loves to write and read the English language. In this stage the child is still earning their vernacular sea legs, and will be for quite some time although it is with a greater and greater sense of refinement. The funny moment that is the whole reason for this post is about to be revealed. I have said all that precedes this in order that I may share this comedic scene with you.

My daughter Shayla is now 3 1/2 and she has developed this little phrase, parrot-ed it actually, from I don't know where. When she is excited to be with someone she will say it with such verve and passion that it's contextual humor overrides the simplicity of the phrase itself. The other day she was spending time with her Grandma Joan and she was so excited to be with her and enjoying her company that she ran up and as she did so she said, "Come here Boy!!" and hugged her with all her strength and devotion exemplified. Grandma of course responded with, "I'm not a boy. I'm a girl!" Shayla didn't respond, but just continued on her merry way. Of course when she says this to me it fits, but she says it to her mom as well in all the same passion pockets of experience. Shayla understands that we're not all boys in her family, but somehow that understanding has not evolved it's way into her speech patterns just yet. For me it's one of the simple comedic pleasures of being the father to a great little 3 1/2 year old girl, and I just can't help but smile every time I hear her passionate little expression and see the resultant hug of her asexual love.