In the latter part of the 15th century, an Italian navigator
named Cristoforo Colombo talked a Spanish queen into a sub prime loan on a few boats for a vacation to the
Which leaves this working father alone for the day with a 19-month old girl. A girl who has changed quite a bit since the last time we played hooky together. That was President’s Day, earlier this year, when she was on the verge of walking. Now she’s not only walking, she’s well on her way to talking.
That means she not only can get into pretty much anything she sets her sights on, but she will yell at you if you don’t help her get there. It’s not really all that bad, because she only knows a few words… but they’re the one’s she knows will work to get her where she’s going.
Right now, her favorite words include: up, more, no, binky, bunny, blanky, Elmo, juice and shoes. She wants or is looking for most of those things. No just happens to be the response when we want to take those things away.
No is also the first word to be set into some sort of sentence, like “No, Daddy.” I’m sure I’ll be hearing this sentence for many years to come. Luckily, today, I didn’t hear too many “no’s.” Today was mostly following her around and either picking up after her or keeping her from getting hurt.
Of course, I was technically working, today, so I had to try to split my brain with one half on the computer and the other half watching Finley buzz around. I can see that if you are used to it, you can make it work. But if you only do it every once in awhile, like I do, it’s not so easy.
I’ve decided that a toddler is not much different than a chimpanzee. Sure the kid may be able to talk a little better and the chimp may be a bit more dexterous, but in the end they are just eating, mess-making, climbing little primates.
My monkey has figured out how to climb up onto the couch and free the pillows from captivity. Often, she does this with cookie in mouth, which leads to a stickier-than-normal drool, which finds its way to the couch cushions fairly regularly.
She’s also a big fan of doors. I’m not talking about the late Jim Morrison’s band, I’m talking about hinge-based room separation devices. She thinks it’s pretty funny to run into a bedroom and close the door. But after a few minutes, it’s not so funny because she can’t reach the doorknob and get out.
And she has this fascination with shoes. It must be something imbedded in female DNA – this shoe thing. She has to take shoes out of our front door shoe box and either bring them to us – she thinks we need them, badly – or she tries the on, no matter the size.
So, my morning consisted of chasing a monkey as it drooled, made messes and narrowly avoided smashing her fingers in the door. Then, when she decided she could sit in one place for more than a minute, I was pulled and dragged to my formal position on the couch to help her read a book. And then another and another.
And heaven help me if I didn’t follow along in the book the way she wanted me to. One thing about my little princess… when she’s not happy she lets you know. She’s got a fine set of crocodile tear-producing eyes and the lungs to match (from her mother’s side of the family, don’t you know).
Somewhere before noon I was able to feed the girl, then get her to agree to a nap. I should have agreed to join her. Two hours later, after an attempt at work and cleaning she was up again for more fun in her private zoo.
Luckily for me, Momma came home after her day at school and spirited the little one away for some outside time. I was able to pick up a bit and finish off a little more work. By the time bedtime rolled around, Finley wasn’t the only one ready for nigh-nigh. And as I look back on what turned out to be a very long day, I realized learned a few things from this go-round of Daddy Daycare:
- I should probably just take the day off when I have to watch her
- Chris Columbus could never have reached
- I have the cutest and smartest monkey on the block.
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