Daddy Tree: Tiny Footsteps

On weekday mornings, Willow likes to venture into the master bathroom to watch Mommy get ready for work. She watches with astonishment as Mommy brushes her teeth and fixes her hair. But mostly Willow sits in the floor and plays with her bath toys. She was doing just that this morning as Mommy stood at the mirror prepping and Daddy sat in the kitchen eating breakfast. All was peaceful and routine. Then the screams started. They were the screams of a panic-stricken Mommy, not of a hurt baby. I have to deliver full disclosure here. In the flurry of excitement, I don't recall exactly what was said, but it was something like, "Brian! Oh, my God! Brian! Come here! Oh, my God! Clean her hands! "And CLEAN HER TONGUE!!!" < OK, in a sense of obligation to the dramatic pause, I'm going to pause dramatically here. > Tick. Tick. Tick. Let it sink in. Tick. Tick. There. Good? OK, I will continue. I dropped my fork and rushed, no, walked very briskly into t...

I realize it's been a while since I've updated you about the case of the missing house elf. I haven't abandoned the case like the elf has abandoned me, but I had been losing hope. Until recently. I'd been encountering scant clues. Here and there I'd witnessed evidence the house elf or his replacement had been stopping by to clean the odd appliance or toilet or do a load of laundry, but it wasn't much to go on. And on Christmas Day we awoke to find a note from a most jolly elf thanking us for cookies and milk. But there had been little else, and I think that jolly elf stops by only once a year. I think my lot of cleaning has changed, though. I have a theory that the storm that blew through our yard last week might be the push the house elf needs to return to his job, which is cleaning our house instead of leaving all the work to me. The storm blew over a tree in the woods behind our house. It's the same tree I've been scouting for months thinking tha...

Willow-proofing is a continuous, life-altering process. I think she's covered every inch of this house, going places I never knew existed. She's pulled up on, knocked over and tugged on chairs, cords, doors, knobs, lamps, pictures, books, coats, blankets, magazines, packages, boxes. Everything under the January sun, it seems. She's falling and tumbling and pulling small avalanches onto herself. Most times she cries. Sometimes she snorts and crawls off offended. Other times she laughs. Every time she repeats the offending activity, sometimes immediately, other times eventually. The house is ever-changing. Cherish and I don't recognize our house. We've installed safety latches, outlet covers and furniture bumpers. I've even draped comforters over our coffee tables to soften the impact of little heads on hard surfaces. I've moved lamps. I've relocated books. I've hidden furniture. I've thrown up unsightly obstacles to keep our little adventure...

Last night was our first night as a family braced against a violent storm. Luckily, even though the storm was the worst we've experienced in the five years we've lived in this house, it didn't damage our property other than knocking down a tree in the woods behind our house and blowing down some limbs. But the night was scary, for me mostly. Cherish woke during the storm but didn't get out of bed, and Willow slept through the whole howling thing. We anticipated the storm, so Cherish asked that I set up the Pack-N-Play in our bedroom so Willow wouldn't be alone when the thunder and lightning hit. I charged up my phone and got our emergency radio and flashlight ready. The storm hit a little after 1 a.m., and I was up for it. It was a wall of wind and rain, really, with few lightning strikes. Something cracked in the backyard, so I peeked out. I couldn't see far because of the slashing rain, but Willow's swing was flying parallel to the ground. During the ...

Cherish is my Internet guide, it seems, constantly pointing me to entertaining tidbits and touching stories. The story link I include in this posting is to a touching moment between a mother and her 7-year-old daughter after the girl frowns at herself in the mirror and says, "I'm fat." I know Cherish will have the strength to lift up Willow as the mom does in this story. I hope I will too. I want Willow to grow to be a woman who sees radiance shining back in a mirror. I hope Willow will be "strong and fierce" just like her mother. Here's the link: http://www.rachelsimmons.com/2012/01/mom-im-fat-one-mothers-inspired-response-to-her-7-year-old/

Here's a quick update of all the stuff Willow is doing: Sometime last week, crawling just clicked with her, and like that, she was off! As my sister told me, "Uh oh, it's started!" The first day she was able to crawl more than a few strides, she took off across the play room, found the music table and pulled herself up. Just right up. Now she's into and onto everything. Over the weekend, we gave her some Gerber puffs, and *puff* they vanished. Into her mouth. Snap. Snap. Snap. Gulp! And what's come from all this learning and doing? This morning, I experienced a bittersweet moment. As I was holding her, she kept trying to loosen herself so she could get to the floor to crawl. She had places to go, and Daddy's lap wasn't one of them. Sigh. Really, she's entertained herself all morning. Daddy not required. As she was playing with her blocks in the living room floor, I stepped into the kitchen to empty the dishwasher. The switch triggered, and Wi...

I am new to being a stay-at-home dad, so it's difficult for me to speak confidently about what it is to be one, especially the challenges of being one. The unknown is part of the excitement, I suppose, but at this point it's all relatively unknown to me. And that's scary. Since Cherish and I made the plunge in August, our lives have been an adventure, an exploration. We don't know what each day will bring us. We've been tiptoeing around each bend in the path. We've encountered joys, such as the sweeping views one might encounter on a path. They're the views that rouse breathtaking optimism of what's to come (or of what you should be celebrating now). And we've encountered challenges, such as the barbs one might encounter on a path. They're the brambles that distract you from the sweeping views. Even thought the joys overwhelm the challenges, those challenges can be a prickly constant. Cherish and I chose this path for Willow (and her siblin...

The excitement of the holidays (plus a week of two of wind-down) is fully behind us, so Willow and I have put some serious thought into how we're going to defeat the winter doldrums. Willow needed a few seconds to create and refine her list. Here it is: Play. I needed a week to think about my list then the whole morning to start to write it down. Here is a glimpse (please keep in mind that it's a working list, constantly evolving and changing according to the weather, the economy and the mood of the GOP political base): Have all homemaking chores done in the morning, so I can concentrate on afternoon time with Willow in the following ways: Go to the park or zoo when it's warm. Play out back when it's cooler. Stay inside when it's cold, preferably spending as much time in the play room as a 37-year-old man can tolerate. Spend more time with Willow on sign-language lessons. Read more to Willow. Read "Lord of the Rings" to myself. Teach Willow geometr...

Willow and I took advantage of unseasonably warm January weather to go to the zoo and enjoy the annual membership Mimi bought for our family. The temperature was in the upper 50s when we arrived, and it hit 73 degrees by the time we left four hours later. Willow had a blast. Her favorite animal attractions were the flamingos, the monkeys and the meerkats. The monkeys and the flamingos put on a show for her, and one of the meerkats looked her in the eye from his sentinel perch by the glass. The flamingos probably provided the most fun. They woke from an early-afternoon slumber and splashed and bellowed in their wading pool. Willow was enraptured by the large and pink birds. After the flamingos, Willow enjoyed the carousel and the playground. Both are the best you'll find in Middle Tennessee, and I've never seen a better playground. Truthfully, it's worth the price of admission. Hop on over to my Facebook page to see videos of the monkeys and flamingos.

The monkeys at the zoo started hooting and hollering, so I took Willow to see them. She couldn't take her eyes or ears off them. I'll post a video on Facebook when I get home.

In this pic, I'm holding Willow off screen at the elephant exhibit. She's much more interested in pulling Daddy's hat off than looking at the elephants. She tolerated the giraffes next door as well.

We've arrived for the first of many trips to the Nashville Zoo on our membership from Mimi. The day is wonderful, and there are plenty of families here. In the picture, Willow is hanging out at the carousel. She loves watching it go round and round.

But Daddy, there aren't any DVDs in this drawer. Oh, yes! I love helping Daddy organize his DVDs. I'm mostly to blame for the mess in the picture on the left, but Willow contributed. She's not a champion crawler yet, but she's starting to get around, mostly by a short crawl then lunge or by rolling around and pulling. So while I was cleaning the living room the other day, she rolled herself over to the pile of DVDs, CDs and books I'd started to compile to move upstairs. She'd started to pull them from their TV-stand shelves, you see. Once she reached the pile, she pulled it down and scattered it around, then she rolled all over it, chewing this and gumming that, throwing this and bending that. With a watchful eye, I let her play. Before long, it was time for me to dust in the nursery, so I moved to the floor there and gave her some toys while I started to dust. She immediately realized playing in the pile o' media was much more fun...

Willow and I are getting excited. Well, I am; Willow just wants to play with her blocks. With highs in the 60s and the sun expected to shine bright all day, tomorrow could bring Willow and me a big January gift: a trip to the zoo. Willow, Cherish and I are the new and proud owners of a Nashville Zoo membership (a Christmas gift from Mimi), and we're going to cash in tomorrow. Cherish and I love the zoo, and the Nashville Zoo is a good one to have nearby. We plan to be frequent visitors, taking advantage of the many programs, events and workshops the zoo offers children. I plan to take Willow to the zoo whenever it's warm this winter, and I plan for us to be frequent visitors throughout the summer and fall. I know she'll love it. I'll be sure to post pictures and vignettes here tomorrow while we're at the zoo.

Cherish and I survived the Poopageddon. I don't say this lightly. It was ugly. It was messy. And most of all, it was stinky. The stink penetrated my very being, down to the roots of my soul. Experienced parents probably already have guessed what happened over the New Year's weekend. Yes, Willow had a bout with Cha-cha (that's what Cherish and I call it; you probably call it diarrhea). Poopageddon went according to book. "The Willow Manual" (aka "Baby 411") told us Willow had a stomach virus, commonly referred to as the stomach flu. "The Willow Manual" told us Willow would vomit on the first day then have diarrhea the next three or four days. And that's what happened. "The Willow Manual" DID NOT tell us we'd be doing multiple loads of laundry, disinfecting multiple surfaces and taking multiple trips to the trash bin in the garage. After we put a second set of sheets and baby clothing in the washer, we knew our weekend ...