Safe at Home

Today was Opening Day for baseball and as Finley and I watched Seattle take on the Rangers, it dawned on me that I’m coming up on two years since I left the Mariners. It’s still a bit hard to just sit and watch a game without thinking about how I would have shown that replay differently or edited a video. I even catch myself shaking my head at mistakes most people wouldn’t see. I still have a bunch of the game in my head, but as every day goes by, more of that past-life stuff gets shoved aside by an ever-growing arsenal of Daddy things.

It really is amazing how much my life has changed in two short years. In fact, in an eighteen-month time period, I embarked on four of the most stressful things you can do in your life; I got a new job, bought a condo, got married and became a father.

The thing is, looking back at all of it, it didn’t seem that stressful. It’s probably and mostly because Heather was right beside me for all of it. And I think it’s partly because I really don’t stress out too much, anyway. Believe me, I can stress out – I’m surprised Heather is still with me after the first time she witnessed a freak out – it’s just that I don’t do it that often. I guess I see it as a waste of time.

Not that there aren’t or won’t be good reasons to stress… I guess I would rather work to figure out how to de-stress than to spend my time freaking out. Besides, the last thing I want is for Finley to grow up seeing me flip out because she spilled finger paints on the carpet.

Some people – and I won’t name any particular Momma’s here – see stress as a necessary evil. They think they aren’t getting anything accomplished unless there is a bit of panic involved. And I can see that point. You don’t want to take things too lightly, but there comes a time to calm down when you can’t sleep or eat.

Like anything in life, it’s all about balance. So, where am I going with this blog? I’ll tell you. I’ve been asked at work to help start a dialogue among my co-workers about work/life balance. It’s a company-wide initiative to provide discussion groups to talk about work-related issues including skill tips and life issues. And to get the discussions going, they’ve asked several of us to start the topics. Mine is work/life balance.

“But Randy.” You’re saying, “This doesn’t explain how this fits into this week’s blog.” Oh, but it does. You see, I am very aware how stressful my job could be. And there are times when I start to feel it. There are days when the little company-issued stress ball is about to burst. But there are two things that keep me at ease and help me through these perceived tough times… Heather and Finley.

I have said several times that I am very lucky. And it is so true. Because I have a wife that will stand beside me if ever things get tough. She’s seen me at my lowest and at my best. And she loves me the same, no matter what.

Then there’s that little girl. At this point in her life, there is nothing better than picking her up from daycare. When she hears me walk in the classroom her head whips around and with a smile of pure joy she gets as close to running as her little legs will go, just to get to her Poppa. And as she wraps her arms around my knees, I feel her head lean against my leg to tell me how glad she is to see me. Then I pick her up and lightly toss her into the air and give her a smooch on the cheek on the way down. That’s when she looks around the room as if to say, “This is my daddy.” If that isn’t the world’s best blood pressure reducer, I don’t know what is.

Sometimes I miss being at the ballpark, hanging out with the players and hearing the crowd applaud after one of my videos. It was fun being a part of the team and seeing some special players and special moments. But I traded that all in for a wife and a daughter to be named later.

My new job is far less stressful than working for the Mariners ever was. The thousands of fans applauding is reduced to a pair of tiny hands clapping and the big screen at our house shows the Wiggles instead of Ichiro, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

I like the team that meets me when I reach home. Because when I’m there, I’m always safe.

A Love Supreme

In the summer of 1991, I was finishing up some college elective courses and took a Jazz history class from a fantastic instructor, Dr. Greg Yasinitsky. It wasn’t just a look at how jazz began and who the notable musicians were. It was a lesson in what jazz music was, is and can be. In every class, Yazz would take out his tenor sax and explain what he was talking about. He would introduce us to things about music we never knew or could understand without seeing and hearing him play his point. The key to jazz, he explained, was, and is, improvisation. Improvisation is not as easy to explain as you would think. Which is why he always had his sax. It’s funny to think that the things he taught us would apply to life… Especially life with a one-year old.

This past week, my Oklahoma cousins came to town. Well, a small pack of them came to town, anyway. And as our family always does when the relatives come to visit, we rallied around a few dinners out and a couple of days of playing tour guide. I volunteered for a day trip to the zoo and figured Finley could join her cousins in the animal kingdom. It really never hit me until about halfway through the day, what I had offered to do. You see, since Heather had to work that day, I was going to be the sole parent on an all-day outing, far from the friendly confines of home.

Now, I have had several daddy days on my own in the past year, but I never really left the house and certainly not for more than a few hours. This time, I was to be counted on not only for the diaper changes but for everything else that goes along with keeping a 12-month old happy for a full day. Heck, even the daycare people have more than one person in the room!

But I didn’t panic. Because life with a kid, when done right, can be like playing good jazz. You see, the key to the Dickey Trio is a solid rhythm section. It all starts with a strong drummer… Someone who lays down the beat and keeps it steady. That’s Heather. I’m also in the rhythm section, but I’m the bass player. I just follow her lead – I might take a few liberties and go off for a bit, but I always come back to the beat she’s laid down.

That makes Finley the tenor sax – the soloist – at least for now. She’s always going off in another direction, wailing about this and that and it’s up to us to keep her back in the groove.

On this day, I knew I was in good hands, because my drummer had laid down the beat by setting me up with a fully prepared diaper bag and a second bag with lunch, dinner and all the formula I would need. It would be up to me to keep it all flowing, but I had a solid backing.

I also knew that I had to be ready to improvise at any moment. In jazz and in life that’s always a good thing to have in your back pocket and I like to think I can adapt to any situation. I’m not saying I’m a cross between John Coltrane and MacGyver, but if I need to make things happen, I can find a way.

The day started off in good shape. In truth, Finley is still a bit young to really get anything out of the zoo – she was more interested in watching the younger humans than the animals behind the glass. A few hours into the morning and I started seeing signs that she was getting a bit antsy and even a little hungry. Or at least, that’s what I read from her sounds and body movements. As I look back, it’s interesting that I could read her body language and figure things out. I couldn’t have done that a year ago.

So, around noon I swept her into a cafeteria and set up her lunch, which included diced carrots and pears. As I sat down to serve her, I realized I had nowhere to drain the pears without leaving her and running to the bathroom. So, it was time to improvise. I had noticed a bit earlier that her sippee cup was running low… Why not drain the pear juice into the sippee cup and fill the rest with water? It may not be the newest trick in the book, but for me and for that moment, it was daddy improvisation at work.

After a nice lunch and a quick cleanup, we were back on the animal trail. As I sat her down in her stroller I saw a look in her eye that said she might be ready to crash, so out of instinct I lowered the back of her seat and within five minutes we had a sleeping Finderella. Again, not rocket scientist work there, but somehow, somewhere I picked up her lead and guided her into a nice sleep solo that lasted a few hours. Of course, not everything went smoothly, but not every song is perfect… especially the live ones.

Nearly twenty years ago, Yazz explained the importance of making a song your own and exploring the music through improvisation. But, he also emphasized that you have to practice and you have to have a good group. After a few days on my own with Finley, I may have been exhausted, but I also realized that our little trio works really well together. We’ll have to see about adding another soloist in a couple of years. Until then, we’ll keep working on our own version of “A Love Supreme.”

Sweet Girl

Thanks to my daughter, I’ve discovered what makes the world go ‘round. Before her birthday party on Saturday, I was firmly set on the idea that advertising makes the world tick. Sure, it’s an off-shoot of the typical “money” answer, but after fifteen years in television, I was sure advertising ruled the world. That was until Saturday.

And no, I’m not going to get all gushy and say “love” or “family.” But those are definitely close to the top. To fully understand what I’m talking about, we have to go back to Saturday morning, a full three hours before her party.

As any parent of a child in the baby/toddler years knows, the cornerstone to having a happy, successful day is the nap. Everything else flows from that. Whether it’s a one-hour power nap or a three-hour siesta, a rested child is a happy child.

There’s nothing worse than a tired and grumpy one-to-four year old with half a day to go. Maybe not all of their synapses have formed, and they have trouble firing when fatigue sets in. Or, maybe, as Finley demonstrates from time to time, they become uncontrollably insane. Which is why the nap can save you from joining them in the loony bin.

So, our party is set to begin at one and at eleven Heather’s friend, pregnant-with-twins Gina, agreed to watch the kid while we got the party set up. Luckily for us, Finley went down right before Gina showed up and we were hoping for a two-hour snooze of sanity.

Sure enough, as folks started arrive for the soirée, the little birthday princess started waking up. It was perfect. She was happy and fun and for a one-year old, took in all the people and noise very well. Then her world was to be forever changed.

Then the nectar of the gods was laid before the tiny one. And verily, she dipped her hands into the well of wonder, and brought forth unto her mouth the elixir of Apollo himself. What I’m trying to say is that for the first time in her life, she dove head first into sugar.

Heather bought a small coconut cake for the girl and after a few minutes of daintily picking off the coconut shavings, she plowed into the flour and frosting concoction and made the mess we were all hoping she would make. And that was fine and fun.

Fast forward to an hour or so later, post-party at our place.

Our little princess turned into a raving lunatic. She flopped onto her pint-sized couch like a drunk at a party and giggled madly on the floor. Below is just a few of the “highlights” from her sugar-induced tirade.

Of course, we’ll be keeping a keen eye on the amount of sugar she gets moving forward, but for a first birthday it’s okay to have a little fun. But it does make me wonder how much sugar I’ve consumed in my lifetime and how much sugar is in the things we eat and drink.

Plenty of people have to have their coffee in the morning… add a bit of sugar to your caffeine and it’s the only way some people can make it through the day. And who wants sugar-free? I’d rather lick a piece of wood.

Which is why I now think sugar makes the world go ‘round. If it can propel my daughter into fifth gear her first time through, just think of how much it helps us ALL get through the day.

Not that love and family aren’t a close second… in fact I’m quite aware that a synonym for sugar is love. And after seeing all the great friends and relatives we have show up for Finley’s birthday, I can say that there was plenty of sugar to go around for that little girl.

Then there’s the fact that I call Finley my “sweet girl” from time to time. I certainly don’t want her to go sour. In fact, I may have to give her kisses every day to make sure she stays sweet. That’s the kind of sugar I like best.

365

There was a moment, one year ago, when I was scared. Flat out, spine-chilling, knee-trembling scared. I saw this tiny tuft of hair start to emerge and I buckled. It was nothing more than the top of her head but it was enough. I had been fine for the past ten hours or so as Heather went into back labor and when her water finally broke. That was nothing.

The cold reality of forty weeks of waiting – of childbirth classes and ultrasounds… of tiny feet kicking Heather’s belly and the first sign of contractions – came crashing into my brain as I watched that little girl make her way into the world. I was going to be a daddy. Me. What did I think I was doing?

Sure, I liked kids. I had been around babies plenty of times and was pretty good with them. But they weren’t MINE. I could give them back. What did I know about feeding and night wakings and colic? How am I supposed to raise a kid? What do I know about any of that?

All those thoughts and many, many more were bouncing around my brain but only for a split second. That fear I had disappeared faster than it had begun. Because I saw two things that put my mind at ease and made me realize that everything was going to be alright.

Before I really had a chance to know what was going on, there was a pair of little eyes searching around this bright, cold world for something to help make sense. And for a split second – but long enough to make a difference – those little eyes locked on me.

That may have been the single best moment of my life. And attached to those little eyes was this tiny little baby, gasping and kicking. I watched as her purple skin began to turn pink with every new breath she took… As her little lungs yelled for all they were worth… And I was amazed at how light she was as I held her for the first time.

Looking at her in my arms, I knew I could never, ever let go. I knew that I was there to protect her and that I would do whatever it took to keep her safe. With my daughter in my arms, I turned the fear around. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I watched as Heather held Finley for the first time.

All those worried thoughts about raising our daughter flew away when I saw the two of them together. Because I knew I wasn’t alone. We were a team… A family… and everything was going to be just fine.

I didn’t know it at the time, but over the next several months I would become the dad I am from watching how much of an amazing mom Heather is. I’m just the apprentice in this reality show. We are blessed and lucky to have a healthy and happy, easygoing kid. But I believe the reason Finley is so good tempered is because of how good she’s got it in the Mom department. And if you told me a year ago, I would be waking up two, three times a night to settle a baby and go right back to bed, I would have laughed. These days, it’s just part of the drill.

And now it’s a year later. I can’t say some of those parenting fears haven’t snuck their way back into my brain, because they have. But every time I start to worry, something will happen to ease my mind. Mostly, it involves a Finley smile or one of her squealing laughs. Sometimes it’s the amazing things she discovers, like how to hold a cup or when she rolled over for the first time or the way she walks around the house like she owns it (because she does).

But sometimes it’s as simple as watching her sleep, dreaming of whatever infants dream… Listening to her breathe her little sleepy sighs... Watching her curl up around her bedtime bunny. How can something so precious be so tiny?

I am thankful for every day I get to hold my two girls. They are there every day I wake up and are there every night I go to sleep. I can only hope the next 365 are half as good as the first.

Maybe it’s because I’ve got Irish blood in me and maybe it’s because we’re only a week away from St. Patrick’s Day… But one thing is for certain. Every March I realize I am a very lucky man.

The Beginning of the End

We’re down to one week left before Finley’s first birthday and a couple of things happened last week to signal the beginning of the end. What I mean by that is that the past twelve months have been pretty laid back, as far as Poppahood goes. There have been the occasional sicknesses and owies one can come to expect when raising a newborn. There have been long nights and short tempers. There have been a few sad faces, but even more happy faces, which is nice. But last week Finley did two things that signal to this Poppa that things are about to be different.

Both of these turns of events are inevitable. They are the things you see other kids do and wonder when your kid will get there. But, both of these things are on opposite sides of the Poppa Approval Scale(PAS).

The PAS contains many, many items and behaviors and events that I expect my kids to experience and many of them I hope they don’t. And in between are the other things and people and experiences that may or may not appear, but are not surprises.

For instance, at the high-end - the good-end - of the PAS are things like good grades, good sportsmanship, graduations and charity work. From the middle of the PAS and up are things like excelling in team sports, doing chores, saving money and family events.

At the low-end - the bad-end of the PAS - are things like boys, smoking, boys, reckless driving, talking back and boys. Fill in the rest of the bottom half of the PAS with things like trashy clothes, bad grades, and Britney Spears.

Our first event of the week lands somewhere near the top of the PAS. As you may recall from last week’s post, Finley has started taking more and more steps on her way to becoming fully mobile. Well, she’s officially fully mobile, now (See below).

What amazes me is not just the fact that she can zoom around the house at her own speed, but that she figured out how to stand up from a sitting position. This time last week, I figured that would be the last piece in her being a mobile munchkin and that it would take her some time to get there, but she figured it out and she’s off and running… Well, walking hurriedly, anyway.

The downside to her being a toddler is that now she’s a toddler. One blink of an eye, one turned head and she’s gone. We have to be especially vigilant when Finley is upright. It maybe high on the PAS, but in a slightly sad way, it signals the end of the infant stage.

Our second event lands on the high-end of the cuteness scale, but is the beginning of a slow march to the bottom of the PAS. I saw it first-hand a week earlier, but when Heather was witness to it and described to me the event in full detail, I knew it wasn’t just a fluke.

The infant room at Finley’s daycare holds up to eight kids. Right now, the oldest kid and the only girl, is Finley. She is definitely the Queen of the infant room… Especially since she can get around better than the rest. But, it turns out there is one little dude that can keep up with her. In fact they are buddies. The week before, when I dropped her off and last week, when it was Heather’s turn, we both noticed something interesting. As soon as we placed our little girl on the floor, she was off and crawling toward the little boy and he, in turn, was crawling toward her. Replace the padded carpet and toys with a field of flowers and you get the idea.

They met half way and began pawing at each other, like a couple of puppies checking each other out. Then it happened. Finley, not the little boy, leaned over and kissed him! Okay, so it was one of those open-mouthed-on-the-cheek baby kisses, but I knew what she was doing. Then she took off over to one of the cribs and he followed right behind, just like boys do.

All I kept thinking was, “You’re not even one!” All the teachers in the room and Heather the next week were saying, “CUTE!” Okay, so it was kind of cute, but not something I want to start thinking about, right now! Let’s go back to working on walking. Maybe I should buy that ball and glove a little earlier than planned.

The reality is that it’s all just a cute little playmate thing and I’m glad she can make friends. But deep in the back of my daddy mind, visions of boys at the door start to creep up into my consciousness. “It’s way too early for you!” I yell, and send them back to the part of my brain where I keep Air Supply lyrics.

At the end of they day, Finley is back home, waddling around the house, playing with Momma and Poppa and the world is right again. And just as sure as I am that she will go from walking to running, I’m sure there will be a day when she will ask me if she can go on a date. But until then, I’ll work on being top guy in her life. I’ll wipe her mouth, her rear end and her tears. I’ll tickle her and toss her and take her to daycare. And when she goes over to that boy, I’ll just smile and agree that it’s cute and when none of the teachers are looking, point at the boy and mouth the words “I’m watching you.” His infant brain doesn’t have a clue what I’m saying, but it makes me feel better. It must be a Dad thing.