Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas!

Big Sister/Little Sister

Zoe is going to be a big sister in April!

Birthday

Zoe is two. Wow.

I need it.

This is one of my daughter's most frequently used sentences. Yes, she can speak in sentences. What are you doing? Where's Mommy? I made a poop. I need it! Wow, if these are the main things she says to me - I have a feeling i've already slipped below her in the chain of seniority around here.

Moving 462 miles with a Toddler

Yikes.

Mother's Day

I need to be (and want to be) a good father and make sure my daughter's mother - who's also a wonderful wife - has the kind of Mother's Day she deserves. But I can't just say "okay, leave everything to me honey. Just relax and i'll take care of everything today." I can't take care of everything. I can barely put Zoe's hair in a pony tail. But I can remind Emily just how wonderful she is, which I tried to do. Still doesn't feel like enough, though. So all of you mothers out there, please hear this: You're great! Just being who you are is a step above the general , run of the mill, ordinary, mundane, work-a-day, average Sally. Look in the mirror if there's no one else around to do it for you and say "I'm wonderful, I'm great, I'm special." You, and (almost) you alone know the secret to making little people blossom. Thanks. Happy Mother's Day!

A Gift?

I actually converted to Judaism today, in the salt water (and air) of the Atlantic ocean. After a year of study, I sat before the Beit Din, then we traveled to the ocean at Fort Fisher beach for the mikvah. It was a touching and fun ceremony - captured, of course, on film by Emily. I barely had time to contemplate this significance of my new status when I encountered an elderly lady. We had zipped out to a restaurant to enjoy a Mother's Day lunch, and a lady in pink shuffled by our table and plopped a tiny pamphlet down beside my plate and said "Happy Mother's Day, here's a gift for you. I glanced down at the gift and read the words "Back From The Dead" accompanying an eerie drawing of dark shadows, a yellow moon and the silhouette of an anonymous person. I practically spewed a mouthful of guacamole all over the table. The combined facts that she called it a "gift", back from the dead, and the fact that I had JUST completed my conversion to Judaism some how made this old woman's gesture seem hilarious. I never read the pamphlet, the cover was interesting enough on it's own to reinforce my confidence in my decision to adopt the religion of my wife and daughter. I wonder if that's what she gives everyone when a gift is expected...hmmm.

Driver's Ed.

Zoe explains driving. "It's a car! And push the button, and honk, honk, honk, and beep, beep, and driving!"

The Last Word

My daughter is learning to speak. I love experiencing this in action.
Daddy: You're such a good girl, I love you so much.
Zoe: Much!
Daddy: Don't put that in your mouth, honey - it's not food.
Zoe: Food!
Daddy: Get your boots and we'll go outside.
Zoe: Side!
Daddy: Zoe, I told you not to touch that!
Zoe: Touch!
Daddy: Do you have a poopy diaper?
Zoe: Poop!
Daddy: Zoe, do you want some pineapple?
Zoe: Apple!
Daddy: Please help daddy clean up this mess.
Zoe: Mess!
Daddy: Do not throw your milk on the floor, or you'll have a time out.
Zoe: Out!
Daddy: Daddy needs to concentrate, so please try to do that puzzle yourself.
Zoe: Self!
Daddy: Lunch will be ready in a few minutes, can you wait a little longer?
Zoe: Eat!

Exhausted - happy

Driving for hours with a toddler strapped in her car seat in the back is sheer parenthood. I try not to turn all the way around while doing 70, to see what she needs... but if my wife has fallen asleep beside me, isn't it just as risky to wake her up?

Nap Monster

Most of the time I rock Zoe to sleep in my arms, I fall asleep too. Half of the time I fall asleep before her. I'm not a geezer, but it's clear my body is an opportunist. I'm not certain how I can sleep through Zoe touching my mouth and saying "lips," poking my eyes and saying "eyes," and then - of course - her lovey, nestled between our faces, soggy and cold with her slobber. When I open my eyes, there it is - looming hideously just inches from my nose - daring me to make a noise and wake her up.

The Sheer Mockery!

Why does my daughter have to flail and kick her legs like a maniac when I'm trying to change her diaper or put pants on her? Also, does she really have to laugh at me at the same time? One more thing: Why does it seem that the more I'm trying to hurry, the more she laughs at me?

Saliva

I hate my daughter's lovey. I didn't hate it when we first gave it to her. It's a little Winnie The Pooh head and upper body with a blanket for the bottom half. It used to be soft and smooth and cuddly. Zoe enjoys it as if she were a dog. She chews on it. Apparently that's how it comforts her. She chews on the ears and sucks on them. She chomps on the nose like a piece of gum. She tugs and gnaws on it with her teeth so hard, I'm surprised it hasn't ripped off. She slobbers all over it so that it stays wet for hours. When it eventually dries, it gets hard and crusty, and it still stinks. It smells like bad breath. Did I mention that my daughter has bad breath. I don't mind it (she takes after me), but her mom does. To clean the lovey we have to rub liquid detergent into the head before dropping it into the laundry. Of course we bought a spare lovey, and we'll probably get several more. I can't truly hate the lovey, because it really does comfort her. She asks for it a lot. I guess the smell of her own saliva is as calming to her as it is gross to us. It doesn't even look cute any more. The ears are tugged and frayed and splayed, and the snout is all twisted and bitten up. It looks like a tiny gnarled beast of a varmint - it looks like it was chewed on and spit out by a bigger animal. The real Winnie the Pooh would have nightmares if he saw it. Sometimes she wants us to kiss it and she presses it to our face and lips. This immediately causes us to gag - especially if it's soaked with fresh slobber...mmm...lovey.

Welcome To My Perspective.

Welcome to my perspective of childhood as a parent, and more specifically as a Dad. I figured that if I'm getting to experience growing up all over again - only this time I'm aware of what's happening, why not write some of it down and share it at the same time? There are plenty of groups, sites, blogs for moms to commiserate/compete/educate themselves - but many dads are apparently only semi-available or semi-involved. My wife and I split the duties evenly. It's a lot - even with one child. It's exhausting and inspiring at the same time. So this is for the dads who are knee deep in diapers without enough sleep. I'm anxious to hear if it rings true for anyone else, as well as how it's a little bit different for everyone.

I have a 21 month old daughter named Zoe who keeps her mom and me extremely busy. She's currently in an endless phase of naming every possible thing she can. Her mom and I are prone to talking non-stop when it suits us, so it's no surprise that Zoe is practically talking before she wakes up in the morning. Her eyes closed, her head still on the pillow, ...bing! She turns on. I love that the first thing she often says is "all done?" - to let us know she's all done sleeping. She continues "eyes, eyes." She opens her eyes and sees the ceiling "fan, fan - it's a fan." She remembers she hasn't eaten in 11 hours. "Juice, bana, bar, seeyu." This continues all day, and - yes - she's just as quick to repeat any of those innocent little curses we utter when our tongues are just a bit faster than our brains.

She says "poop" when she's peeing or pooping, or even if she's just thinking about peeing or pooping - or if she spots her potty - or if she notices her crotch. She says "poop" a lot. It makes sense, after all, we're in potty training phase. Poop is on everyone's mind.