My daughter started day care a couple of weeks ago. Early returns have been, for the most part, positive, albeit with a few rough days - though none in the last week or so.
Me, on the other hand, I'm day-to-day; some days, I'm thrilled at the idea that my daughter is in day care and is interacting with other kids, the teachers, all that stuff.
Some days, though, I'm a mess. I think about how the little hermetically-sealed bubble of "Daddy, Mommy & Baby" has been forever and irretrievably punctured. We'll never get that bubble back; the baby bird is out of the nest, etc.
I think about how, in those first few days, she would cry at drop off and hold out her arms to be taken back. How our "happiest baby in the world" would seem sad sometimes.
Mostly, though, I felt like the worst parent in the world; when forced to choose between being home and caring for my child or handing her off to strangers so I could make a buck, I chose money...
Here's the thing, though; it's not really a choice. My wife and I struggled with this everyday (her much more than me, since she had been home with our daughter every day since she was born), often feeling bad about our choice. I've come to realize that it's not a choice - in order for us to provide our baby girl with a home, clothes, a future, and all that stuff, we have to work. Life is too expensive - day care ain't cheap, that's for sure - and money is not just a necessary evil; it's required.
On the way to our parental steel-cage wrestling match with this existential crisis of money vs. family, a funny - and wholly unsurprising - thing happened: My daughter adjusted and is FINE. She's still happy.
She still giggles when I imitate Cookie Monster (an admittedly poor imitation, but she doesn't know that yet)... loves Peek-A-Boo... thinks "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" is the best book ever... basically, she's adapted and is as happy, playful and smiley (Scrunchy Face) as ever. Seeing that, and hearing from the day care folks that she such a happy baby, helps, too.
Mommy and Daddy still can be prone to over-thinking and suffering paralyzing paroxysms of parental guilt, but we're learning to deal with it. Once again, I'm finding that I - we - have just as much to learn from her as she does from me.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
The Scrunchy Face
I was once told, probably sometime during my wife's pregnancy, that the day your child smiles at you for the first time will be magical and amazing and will melt your heart and make you realize you have a little person, etc., etc.
And when my daughter smiled at us for the first time, it was all that. It really did send me to another place. But I knew she was "my daughter" when she started making what my wife and I call "The Scrunchy Face."
It is exactly what it sounds like - my daughter will, in moments of happiness (laughing or babbling), scrunch up her face in a "super smile" that is both insanely cute and wildly entertaining. Her eyes crinkle and her dimples will pop and she will smile her biggest, almost toothless grin.
And the best part about it is that, when she does it, I do it right back to her and we look alike.
Now it may seem strange that it would take something like this to make me feel like she is my daughter, especially since a lot of people have said she looks like me. It's not her looks, though, that I am talking about. It's the fact that when she does it, I do it back to her - and we both laugh.
So, more than my "looks" (God help her), maybe she has my sense of humor. And that's something unique to me and her.
And that's how I know she's my girl.
And when my daughter smiled at us for the first time, it was all that. It really did send me to another place. But I knew she was "my daughter" when she started making what my wife and I call "The Scrunchy Face."
It is exactly what it sounds like - my daughter will, in moments of happiness (laughing or babbling), scrunch up her face in a "super smile" that is both insanely cute and wildly entertaining. Her eyes crinkle and her dimples will pop and she will smile her biggest, almost toothless grin.
And the best part about it is that, when she does it, I do it right back to her and we look alike.
Now it may seem strange that it would take something like this to make me feel like she is my daughter, especially since a lot of people have said she looks like me. It's not her looks, though, that I am talking about. It's the fact that when she does it, I do it back to her - and we both laugh.
So, more than my "looks" (God help her), maybe she has my sense of humor. And that's something unique to me and her.
And that's how I know she's my girl.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
So this guys walks into a delivery room....
"It's a girl."
You could have pretty much knocked me over with a feather when the doctor said that to me. I mean, really and truly - my legs were wobbly and everything.
And it wasn't because we had been told it would be a boy and it was wrong. It had just become an unspoken agreement between my wife and I that we were having a boy. After all, I was one of three boys, my brother had two boys of his own... and our baby had been tracking bigger all during my wife's pregnancy.
During those 41 weeks (our daughter was a week late), I used to joke with people all the time that "My family only makes boys" and that "if I have a girl, I'm screwed" because I had no reference point for how to raise a girl. My wife, also one of three, has a younger brother and sister and seemed a little less trepadacious about having a girl, but still... we just thought "boy" all along.
The funny thing is that, all throughout the pregnancy, I stubbornly refused to find out the sex of the baby. I had always said that having a baby is one of life's few, true surprises - if you choose to not find out, you really won't know what you're having unil that magic moment when the doctor says "it's a..."
Even when I asked my wife to marry me, I was reasonably sure she would say yes, mostly because we had always talked about it and we were living together, etc. But this was a true surprise. And one that I would never have spoiled, no matter what.
I know how to raise a boy. I'm a little out of my depth when it comes to a girl. And the truth is, I love that.
Because now my daughter and I get to find out how to grow up together.
You could have pretty much knocked me over with a feather when the doctor said that to me. I mean, really and truly - my legs were wobbly and everything.
And it wasn't because we had been told it would be a boy and it was wrong. It had just become an unspoken agreement between my wife and I that we were having a boy. After all, I was one of three boys, my brother had two boys of his own... and our baby had been tracking bigger all during my wife's pregnancy.
During those 41 weeks (our daughter was a week late), I used to joke with people all the time that "My family only makes boys" and that "if I have a girl, I'm screwed" because I had no reference point for how to raise a girl. My wife, also one of three, has a younger brother and sister and seemed a little less trepadacious about having a girl, but still... we just thought "boy" all along.
The funny thing is that, all throughout the pregnancy, I stubbornly refused to find out the sex of the baby. I had always said that having a baby is one of life's few, true surprises - if you choose to not find out, you really won't know what you're having unil that magic moment when the doctor says "it's a..."
Even when I asked my wife to marry me, I was reasonably sure she would say yes, mostly because we had always talked about it and we were living together, etc. But this was a true surprise. And one that I would never have spoiled, no matter what.
I know how to raise a boy. I'm a little out of my depth when it comes to a girl. And the truth is, I love that.
Because now my daughter and I get to find out how to grow up together.
New direction, same author
So about 100 years ago, I started this blog ostensibly as a way for me to keep the (very) dim pilot light on for my nascent sportswriting career.
A lot has happened since then, tho - including a seismic event in my life that has, quite simply, profoundly straightened out my priorities and simplified my worldview.
On January 11, 2010, I became a father. And, to use the most devalued and overused word in today's popular lexicon, it has been the most amazing journey of my life.
Hence, this blog will have a new "flava" - it will be about my life as someone's father. I might still discuss sports or pop culture or politics or whatever, but it will most certainly be through that prism.
Because that's exactly where everything in my life that really truly matters now begins.
I'm someone's Dad.
And it's the greatest thing in the world.
A lot has happened since then, tho - including a seismic event in my life that has, quite simply, profoundly straightened out my priorities and simplified my worldview.
On January 11, 2010, I became a father. And, to use the most devalued and overused word in today's popular lexicon, it has been the most amazing journey of my life.
Hence, this blog will have a new "flava" - it will be about my life as someone's father. I might still discuss sports or pop culture or politics or whatever, but it will most certainly be through that prism.
Because that's exactly where everything in my life that really truly matters now begins.
I'm someone's Dad.
And it's the greatest thing in the world.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Soxycontin
Brought to you by Paul "Fitzy" Fitzgerald... Check him out on NESN's "Pocket Money"!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEEwGZixc6Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEEwGZixc6Y
Monday, August 24, 2009
Lost weekend?
So the Red Sox dropped 2 of 3 to the Yankees and, for all intents and purposes, said goodbye to any chance of taking the AL East division title this season.
And with 39 games to go in the regular season, it's all about the following numbers -- 1, 6, 20, 22.
1 - The Wild Card standings currently have the Sawx sporting a one-game lead over the Rangers. The Sawx currently have a 2-7 record against the Rangers, who just dropped 2 of 3 against the Rays, the other serious Wild card contender. Which brings us to...
6 - That's the number of games the Sawx have remaining against the Tampa Bay Rays. The Sawx have posted a 4-8 mark against the Rays this season, looking old and slow against the youthful Rays. The six games are split evenly - 3 in Boston, 3 in Tampa - and that bears watching, as the Sawx have gone 3-3 vs. the Rays at home, but 1-5 at the Trop. At the very least, they need to hold serve against the Rays at Fenway and try and steal two games at Tampa. FYI - the Rays are 3 games back of the Sawx in the Wild Card standings.
20 - At 70-53, the Sawx have 39 games left, of which 20 (slightly more than half for you math majors out there) are against teams with winning records. Eleven of those games are at Fenway, where the Sawx are 39-20 (vs. 31-33 on the road).
22 - Of those 39 remaining games, 22 are at home. The Sawx need to take advantage of this advantage and win these home games, especially since they finish the season with 7 games at home vs. the under-achieving Blue Jays and Indians, both of whom should be well into "playing for next year" mode by the end of September.
Before I sign off, a quick note on last night's 8-4 homer-happy loss to the Yankees last night. After both Derek Jeter and Hideki Matsui hit Josh Beckett's first-pitch fastball home runs to start the first and second innings, respectively, I turned to Mrs. Wikked Hahd and said "I guess the Yanks plan is look first-pitch fastball for tonight"...
Come to find out that indeed was the case, as almost all of the Yankees homers on Sunday came on first-pitch fastballs and two-strike curveballs - Buster Olney on ESPN.com pointed that out here (scroll down to the "Sunday's Games" segment). So why could I see that but Beckett, Jason Varitek, Terry Francona and John Farrell couldn't? Is it because of Beckett's legendary stubborness? Or is he due for some pounding after being so brilliant for so long? He insists he's healthy and has no physical issues, so it could just be a blip.
Either way, it's never a good sign when I can see what's going on from my couch better than the Sawx from the field.
And with 39 games to go in the regular season, it's all about the following numbers -- 1, 6, 20, 22.
1 - The Wild Card standings currently have the Sawx sporting a one-game lead over the Rangers. The Sawx currently have a 2-7 record against the Rangers, who just dropped 2 of 3 against the Rays, the other serious Wild card contender. Which brings us to...
6 - That's the number of games the Sawx have remaining against the Tampa Bay Rays. The Sawx have posted a 4-8 mark against the Rays this season, looking old and slow against the youthful Rays. The six games are split evenly - 3 in Boston, 3 in Tampa - and that bears watching, as the Sawx have gone 3-3 vs. the Rays at home, but 1-5 at the Trop. At the very least, they need to hold serve against the Rays at Fenway and try and steal two games at Tampa. FYI - the Rays are 3 games back of the Sawx in the Wild Card standings.
20 - At 70-53, the Sawx have 39 games left, of which 20 (slightly more than half for you math majors out there) are against teams with winning records. Eleven of those games are at Fenway, where the Sawx are 39-20 (vs. 31-33 on the road).
22 - Of those 39 remaining games, 22 are at home. The Sawx need to take advantage of this advantage and win these home games, especially since they finish the season with 7 games at home vs. the under-achieving Blue Jays and Indians, both of whom should be well into "playing for next year" mode by the end of September.
Before I sign off, a quick note on last night's 8-4 homer-happy loss to the Yankees last night. After both Derek Jeter and Hideki Matsui hit Josh Beckett's first-pitch fastball home runs to start the first and second innings, respectively, I turned to Mrs. Wikked Hahd and said "I guess the Yanks plan is look first-pitch fastball for tonight"...
Come to find out that indeed was the case, as almost all of the Yankees homers on Sunday came on first-pitch fastballs and two-strike curveballs - Buster Olney on ESPN.com pointed that out here (scroll down to the "Sunday's Games" segment). So why could I see that but Beckett, Jason Varitek, Terry Francona and John Farrell couldn't? Is it because of Beckett's legendary stubborness? Or is he due for some pounding after being so brilliant for so long? He insists he's healthy and has no physical issues, so it could just be a blip.
Either way, it's never a good sign when I can see what's going on from my couch better than the Sawx from the field.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Favre = Chump.
I know this space is reserved for Baw-stahn spoohts postings, but I just had to say...
Brett Favre is a chump.
Why do we care? It's a freaking joke. The guy is killing his reputation and legacy in some sad Quixotic quest to remain relevant. And like Roger Clemens - the most recent "can't let go" athlete - he's ruining any goodwill from his career because he craves the spotlight too much to go off into the sunset (holy mixed metaphors!).
In the process, he's making fools of all football writers - from Peter King on down - whom he told just weeks ago that he was "done" and was "really" retired. Imagine you're Peter king: Favre is your real football BFF with whom you've shared innumerable dinners, locker room chats and text messages. He tells you "I'm done" and you report it to the world, only to have him reverse field a week later and come back. So now King, who is to the NFL what Peter Gammons is to baseball, looks like a fool. You think his reputation didn't take a hit and he's not upset? Check out the first half of this story for the former, and this one for the latter.
Don't forget, he's also pissing off his die-hard fans in Green Bay, folks who stood in sub-zero weather with foam cheeseheads on their head cheering for their icon. So now his fans look like fools, the football media cognoscenti look like fools, and - worst of all - he's burning bridges left and right.
Sigh... when November rolls around and he's hurt again and throwing wounded ducks up for grabs - ruining the Vikings chances for the playoffs and beyond - we'll all have to go through another stupid news cycle of "Favre done?" again. Only this time, hopefully no one will want to listen.
Hopefully...
Brett Favre is a chump.
Why do we care? It's a freaking joke. The guy is killing his reputation and legacy in some sad Quixotic quest to remain relevant. And like Roger Clemens - the most recent "can't let go" athlete - he's ruining any goodwill from his career because he craves the spotlight too much to go off into the sunset (holy mixed metaphors!).
In the process, he's making fools of all football writers - from Peter King on down - whom he told just weeks ago that he was "done" and was "really" retired. Imagine you're Peter king: Favre is your real football BFF with whom you've shared innumerable dinners, locker room chats and text messages. He tells you "I'm done" and you report it to the world, only to have him reverse field a week later and come back. So now King, who is to the NFL what Peter Gammons is to baseball, looks like a fool. You think his reputation didn't take a hit and he's not upset? Check out the first half of this story for the former, and this one for the latter.
Don't forget, he's also pissing off his die-hard fans in Green Bay, folks who stood in sub-zero weather with foam cheeseheads on their head cheering for their icon. So now his fans look like fools, the football media cognoscenti look like fools, and - worst of all - he's burning bridges left and right.
Sigh... when November rolls around and he's hurt again and throwing wounded ducks up for grabs - ruining the Vikings chances for the playoffs and beyond - we'll all have to go through another stupid news cycle of "Favre done?" again. Only this time, hopefully no one will want to listen.
Hopefully...
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