You'll Melt Your Eyes

I did it as a kid, too, but this is ridiculous.

Evelyn will stand arms length away from the t.v. screen and sometimes even reach out to touch it. Which annoys me because its a really nice television and I don't want sticky fingers all over the display while I'm trying to enjoy a football game or some Doctor Who.

"Evie step back or you'll melt your eyes!" I caught myself saying this morning. I don't know if that's true, but give me a break. It can't be good for her eyes, can it?

My mom used to tell me it would ruin my eyes, and I do have trouble focusing them sometimes. This leads to migraines, which lead to even worse blurred vision at times. Its frustrating to think that maybe my mom is grinning every time I go to the eye doctor and thinking, "I wish I was there so I could say 'I told you so.'" Not that she would, but it irritates me sometimes that she could be so smug and not even alive.

That was meant to be a little humorous, so if you're not laughing I ask that you forgive my morbid sense of humor.

Evie has started doing what I used to do. Scoot back and the second a parent's back is turned, inch forward. Except this kid doesn't know how to inch. She rushes in like a housewife at Wal-Mart on Black Friday.

Of course, the real complaint is that she's blocking my view. No, wait. Not really. The real complaint is that in about five years I'm going to have to shell out a few hundred dollars to buy her glasses, which she won't want to wear, so I'll have to spend more money on contacts.

Its frustrating.

Here's a message for my daughter in the future: So someday, if she reads this through Coke-bottle lenses, I just want to say "I told you so" and now you can pay for your own eye-care.

How ya like them apples?

Raising Evie

I don't know if you've ever seen the show "Raising Hope," but Jennifer and I got addicted to the first season thanks to Netflix. The show follows the exploits of a young single parent who ... you know, I can't make this sound good. He got a serial killer pregnant and now he's raising their baby. Despite that, the show is pretty funny and often has a good little moral to the story. And hey, Cloris Leachman is in it with the unattractive girl from the Goonies. You can't beat that, right?

One of my favorite stories on the show is where the main character, Jimmy, finds out that his dad would wear a disguise every Halloween in an attempt to scare the boy into running home and giving him a hug. "I’m sorry but when you turned thirteen you barely hugged me anymore and then that ... high five came along. I had to do whatever I could to feel your chest against mine." Jimmy of course felt betrayed, but by the end of the episode his daughter gives him a really tight hug and he understood.

Hugs from your kid are the best.

Evie was up sick last night. She kept crying and crying. For the first time since I don't know when, she clung to me until she fell asleep. I realized how much I love hugs from my kid.

Don't get me wrong, she's a sweetheart who will just walk up and put her arms around my leg to give me a hug, or if I'm angry at a football game while sitting in the floor she comes up and wraps her arms around my neck and mutters something that sounds a little like, "It'll be okay."

As a Jets fan, I expect to get those a lot.

But the fact is, as a parent, there are few rewards in life that are as wonderful as genuine affection from your child.

Burt Chance loved scaring his kid into giving him hugs, but the hugs that were given out of love are much better.

Top Ten - After almost 2 Years

I haven't made a list of things in some time on here, so I thought today I would have some fun and type up the top ten things I never thought I would say as a parent after my first two years. That's right, its been (almost) two years since Evie popped out.

Its crazy how time flies.

It also should be noted that these are in no particular rank or order, and most were said more to myself than to my daughter, but still...

The Top Ten Things I Never Thought I'd Say (as a parent, after two years of being a dad):

10. "We don't put things in the dog."

9. "Don't stare at people... oh, he's staring at us. [Whisper:] Stare back until he cries." [at a restaurant where another toddler was watching us eat]

8. "How did you manage to... never mind. Let me get the wet wipes."

7. "Don't eat the crayons. Don't feed them to the dog, either. Crayons are not food"

6. "Hey, sit down and watch Doctor Who like a normal person."

5. "When, exactly, did you start pooping?"

4. "You can sit on my lap but if you start farting nap time is gonna come early."

3. "Give me that. How did you get that? Okay... I don't want to know. I have to wash my hands now. Your hands, too."

2. "I don't know what you're saying but if I could interpret it I'm sure it'd be something about how much you love me, or how you're plotting something."

1. "You have to wear pants. People are going to start thinking you've spent too much time around grandpa."

That's all for today, folks!

When Did That Happen?

I've written before about the importance of cherishing the moments I have with my kid while she's little because I realize she'll grow up too fast. This morning I got smacked in the face with how true this is.

I had fixed Evie some breakfast, and since she was really helpful this morning, I turned on "Sid the Science Kid," a PBS show she really seems to enjoy. I don't know if you've ever seen it, but take all the annoying voices in the world and pack them into an elementary level science class, and you have a basic idea of what we're dealing with here.

Evelyn sat quietly watching her show and munching on her breakfast while I read some news. When the Science Kid made his way off the t.v. another show came on. An educational program that annoys me more than Sid the Science Brat... uhm... kid. Characters whose actions and voices grind on your spine worse than any Barney episode. The new bane of parents has a name and it is Word World.

I'm kidding, I actually don't mind that show. As long as that Duck character doesn't make an appearance. Seriously, if I still had an orange pixelled dog and my old Nintendo Zapper, that character would be toast (If you've never played the old Nintendo game "Duck Hunt" you're just not going to get that).

Anyway, the theme to Word World came on and I hear Evie's small red chair flip over, small stomps across the living room floor behind me, and a small voice exclaim "WAD WOOD!!!"

It made me laugh but then I realized, holy cow, she's talking a lot better. And not just talking, recognizing words, too. She will, if you ask, will point to her ears and say "eahs," her eyes and say "aish," and her mouth and say "mow." Even if you ask where her hands are she'll stick out her little mitts and wiggle her fingers, naming them "hans." Sure, its not perfect English, but its a lot more than she was doing around Christmas time.

Her progress in the past month alone makes me hopeful we won't have to go through any speech therapy. Most of the credit probably goes to my mother-in-law for taking a whole week while she was here and working with her on words and letters. Since Kaye visited, it seems Evie has really taken off on her enunciating.

But that wasn't the end of the day for me. No. She returned to her seat and finished cleaning out her bowl, then picked it up and walked to the sink, only to rest it on the edge of the counter. She put it right where we normally sit our dirty dishes after a meal.

When did that happen? Who taught her that?

Mind. Blown.

Its safe to say she's growing up even faster than I had anticipated.

Its almost scary.

Favorites #3: Its Meant To Be Humorous.

I love this blog because it is a constant reminder that not everything I write on here has to be taken incredibly serious. I don't always have to think deeply and come out with something prophetic, or semi-intelligent. Sometimes I can just have fun blogging.

You may not have enjoyed looking over the past few blogs, and I promise this will be the last of the Favorites for a while, but I've really enjoyed looking back through past blogs and digging out some of my personal favorites. Its also been nice having a small break. Hopefully this will keep me writing throughout 2012.

Yes, I am being dramatic. It's meant to be humorous.

The "Baby Crazies" continue, but I think I'm starting to make the most of them. After last week's post (the very night of the post, actually) Evelyn decided to show that she is not just a baby, she is a force of nature. A force to be reckoned with. Not just a baby, a villain. A horrible villain the likes of which Cobra Commander, Lex Luthor, and Skeletor have never seen.

And she did it with a smile.

That's how the sick, twisted minds of babies work. I realize that now. Babies, as I am now discovering, know that their parents are naive. They know we are gullible morons who believe they only want some milk and a diaper changed now and then.

I now that we are! We are those gullible morons. You may be reading this and saying to yourself, "I wasn't a gullible moron with my kids," but you're only believing that because they want you to believe it.

You must understand their cries are not the whimpers of infants. They are the battle shouts of a warriors in a never ending coup d'état on parenthood.

This is the past few nights have gone:

On Friday night, Evie (now known as "Evelyn the Skull Crusher" by her biker gang) decided to feign sleep from 10:30 pm to 12:30 am. No doubt using this time to plot her next great scheme. Without warning, just like an earthquake, she awoke with a fury so deep and bitter it was almost beautiful in all its glory.

My wife, who had sustained many injuries throughout the day from this tiny barbarian was too weak to continue in the struggle. So I grabbed my weapons and entered the fray. I remember looking her in the eyes, after at least two attempts to feed her from a bottle and muttering something to the effect of, "You may win this battle, but I shalt not die in vain!" An evil smirk twisted across Evelyn the Skull Crusher's face as she filled her diaper with a foul mustard colored stench.

I'll never forget the horror I experience upon opening that diaper. Never.

Every time I close my eyes I still see it's disgusting composition looking back at me as though it, too, were alive. It has been burned into my mind forever.

At the time, I tried my best to use it to strengthen my resolve.

I grabbed the formula I had already tried to feed her twice and with the resistance of a spy who was determined not to succumb to a truth serum, Evie fought back as she guzzled it down. To distract her, I had turned on the television to watch an episode of Smallville I had recorded earlier in the night.

Before the theme song and opening credits rolled, Evelyn, the great villain, the bane of parents within our home had fallen asleep.

I was victorious.

Yes, I realize I am being dramatic. It's all meant to be humorous. Because if there's one thing I have learned about being elbow deep in poopy diapers and sleep deprived, its that if you cant laugh about it you will go crazy.

But I have enjoyed it all, even more than I enjoyed turning that little adventure into some sort of fantasy story.

What really happened was Jen went to bed because she was tired and I volunteered to stay up with Evie. She cooed and "talked" for almost an hour before I finally got her to take her bottle.

I wasn't going to dare to wake up Jen, because a) I want to prove to the world and myself that I can do this fatherhood thing and do it well and b) because my poor wife has been sleep deprived since we got home from the hospital.

Finally Evelyn drank her bottle and yes, I was just starting to enjoy Smallville (which is almost an oxymoron at this point, that show is really dragging on....) and I took her to her bassinet and she slept for a solid 3 or 4 hours. Which was nice.

See? The dramatic version is so much more exciting.

I wouldn't trade the real experience for all the gold in Middle-Earth and Narnia combined.

Favorites #2: And I Felt Like Superman

This is probably my favorite post ever. Not because it was the most commented on when I posted it to Facebook, not because it was some great example of writing, but for two other reasons. Every time I read it I fall in love with being a father all over again, and I see how God touched our lives on that amazing day. How our little baby became our little miracle. I remember all the tests, the wires, the hurt, the worry, the spinal tap, the scared doctors, and the fear I felt. And I remember how peaceful I felt the first time I was able to hold my newborn baby girl.


And I Felt Like Superman

Evelyn Grace Williams was born at about 3:35 pm on March 29, 2010.

On the way out she pooped. Kind of a funny thought at first, except that it actually wasn't funny at all. She inhaled some of it and the doctors are afraid she may have gotten it in her lungs. So it became kind of scary.

We didn't get to hold her. I barely got to see her before she was whisked away to the Critical Care unit (CCN, but I don't know what the N stands for). I took pictures, posted them on Facebook and Twitter and stored them in my phone. I only got two pictures, though.

That evening we were able to go see her, but still not hold her. They were - and still are - giving her a bunch of antibiotics to fight meningitis, and any other kind of infection. Even Herpes as a "just in case" thing. Even though Jennifer and I have only ever been with each other, and it is a very small chance, I guess it is part of the standard procedure. Still kind of scary. We still didn't get to hold her.

The doctor did a spinal tap, and they found white blood cells. I'm not a doctor, so I don't know exactly what that means, except that it is apparently a bad thing and they're going to consult with a specialist. She does have some minor infections, but overall she seems okay - aside from the white blood cells. They want to know why they're there.

They did an ultrasound on her brain because they wanted to make sure she didn't have any kind of infection there. That was kind of scary, too, because the doctor said if they couldn't get a clear shot, they'd do a CTscan. "Scan her cat" as some might say. They don't have to, everything looked fine.

Every moment since our daughter has come out, we've prayed. Every waking second my thoughts have been on her fighting off infection, fighting the only way an infant's body can. She's been sleeping but they say her breathing has gotten so much better. She was green (from the poop) when she was born and since they used a vacuum her head was cone shaped - she looked like a little alien. Then she was blue-ish when they cleaned all that off. Now she looks pink - you know, the kind of pink babies are supposed to look.

I've prayed and I've fasted. I've done everything a man with my limited powers of intellect and strength can do.

And I've felt so weak.

But this morning...

I got told her in my arms. Jennifer got to hold her first, of course, I knew it would mean the world to my wife to get to hold our daughter before me. I also knew I wouldn't want to let her go if I got to hold her.

But this morning, I got to hold her.

And I felt like Superman.

Favorites #1: The First Post

Over the next couple of weeks I'm going to post some of my favorite entries, for those of you who maybe haven't read my blog or just recently picked up reading it. It is also a way to help me gather up some good material for future posts.

So for now, here's entry number one in my "Greatest Hits" I guess.

The First Post

I have decided to journal what I believe is about to become the greatest experience of my life:

Parenthood.

My wife and I are expecting our baby about two months from now. We've been told it will be a girl. We'd be happy if it was a boy or a girl, but this has certainly made the process of coming up with a name much easier.

It took us months to agree on a boy's name, then when we finally had decided on the one we liked, we got the news that the baby will be a girl. So, again, we toiled with our books of baby names and finally came to the decision. If the baby is born a girl, she will be named Evelyn Grace.

I'm very excited.

Of course, Jennifer is stressed and her body is doing all sorts of crazy things that I don't think she believed were possible. Like the trips to the bathroom every fifteen minutes. She's incredibly excited, though. I she's equally elated at the thought of no longer being pregnant.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize how much work went in to preparing for a baby. I am, of course, talking about the putting together of furniture like changing tables, bassinets, cribs, strollers, etc. Not to mention the new clothes my wife is going through or all the doctor visits. Definitely did not count on all the expenses being as high as it is.

Baby business must be good business. Thank God for our family and friends who have blessed us with the gifts we received at a recent baby shower. Our church family is having another baby shower for us, too. We really have been blessed in this entire pre-baby period.

Anyway, we're looking forward to this addition to our family, and I am looking forward journaling it all so that when our offspring are in our shoes, I can simply say, "Hey, check out this link." And they can laugh at their crazy old man's rantings.

A Different Side of Love

During a text conversation with my old college roommate, Jorge, the typical conversation that seems to crop up with old friends I haven't spoken with for some time began anew. "How do you like being a dad?" he asked.

"I love it. I'm training up a whole minion of my own for when I take over the world," I replied. "I even write a blog about my (mis)adventures in parenting." [In which you are now engaged in reading, might I add!]

I returned the question as he is now awaiting his second offspring. His reply was simple but incredibly insightful. Jorge simply stated, "It has shown me a whole new side of love."

At the time it was kind of a nice remark, but it stuck with me through the night and when I awoke this morning I decided it must be a theme I would install into this particular blog.

It seems I have also discovered this different side of love as a parent. In the English language we have so many different meaning for the word. One may state, "I love my car, I love a good hamburger and I love my wife." However, to marry my car is absurd and to eat my wife is cannibalism, not to mention the last time I drove a Big Mac I just got special sauce all over my hands.

I don't know if Jorge meant the love that is returned from our kids - like how my daughter can sense when I am stressed from work and comes to hug my knee, or pat me on the back if I'm sitting on the floor yelling at a football game. Of course, as a parent, you love your kid in a similar manner, putting band-aids on ouchies and reading to her all hours of the night so she can sleep, making special trips to the drug store for children's tylenol, and on and on.

Its just something to think about today, the different sides of love we experience, both as parents and simply as the relational beings we were created to be.

The Evil of Snow Days

You remember when you were a kid and it snowed about a tenth of an inch? You'd spend the first fifteen minutes of your morning hoping beyond all hope that the radio, t.v., or website you got your news from would come across with a bulletin exclaiming there was no school. Of course, most of the time, it was only a tenth of an inch and you had to go to school and now had fifteen minutes less to get ready.

But when the news came that classes were cancelled...

Free vacation. No homework due, no annoying bus drivers threatening you, and you could spend all day in your pajamas watching t.v. It was one of those things from our childhood we take for granted as adults.

I'm older now, with a kid of my own (hence the name of the blog), and have a whole different outlook on snow days. Granted, my kid is a few years away from having to ride the big yellow chariot to the village of the learned, but as the white flakes fell from the heavens today, it clicked within my head that snow days are possibly a nightmare for parents.

See, I would still have to go to work. As would my wife. Grown-ups rarely get snow days. Which now makes me think how evil the teachers, school boards, principals, whoever it is who makes such decisions are. How divided the hearts of parents must be. On one hand, my kid's excited she won't have to go to class and she has a few more hours of sleep. On the other, I can't spend all day in my pajamas like she can, I've got to scramble to find a sitter and get myself ready to go toil in the salt mines. Or, whatever it is I do at work all day.

It has occurred to me that in preparation for snow days, we are going to have to find a back up to our back up, should something like that happen. You know, a bullpen of baby sitters.

Being a parent hasn't matured me, its only made me see how incredibly contorted my view of life was when I was a child. Snow days are absolute evil, stress inducing holidays obviously created to destroy the happiness of parents.

Obviously.

An Imaginary Conversation

Me: Evelyn, someday you could be president of the United States.

Evie: Anybody who is stupid enough to get himself elected president should not be permitted to do that job.

Me: Oh, so you're quoting Douglas Adams now?

Evie: I don't even know who that is, remember? I'm not even two yet.

Me: You talk a lot better in these imaginary conversations than in reality.

Evie: Well, you're also about fifty pounds lighter.

Me: Good one! Man, I'm so glad I get to be your dad.

Evie: Change my diaper.

Me: Forget what I just said...

Sometimes I do that. I'll be talking to Evie and she'll go silent. Sometimes she talks back and its all "Mummmmaaa buh buh no. *whisper* bleh blah BUH bee?" Either way, I get the idea and just make up her side of the conversation.

Its a fun way to keep my sanity. If you haven't tried it, I recommend it at least once a week. Even if you don't have kids, but you do have a pet? Just give them a voice and have the conversation.

To be clear, this isn't some "New Age," "Hilary Clinton talked to Ghandi" type junk. This is just you being ridiculous to relieve stress. At all times you need to remember that the conversation you're having is actually in your own head, and you're just doing a little bit of crazy to keep yourself sane.

If you really think your dog is telling you to buy a different brand of dog food, or your child just quoted "Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy" before they can ask for more juice, it is time to call the big-white-van-that-hands-out-coats-with-sleeves-tied-together-at-that-back. You know, check into the hotel with the padded walls.

Seriously, don't do it if you have a history of crazy.

But, if you're a parent in need of a little self-amusement, knock yourself out.