Happy "No" Year

So, now that we’ve survived last week’s ills, chills and spills I can return to my regularly scheduled diatribe on the evolution of Finley…. The “Finolution,” if you will.

The last part of December and early January saw marked improvement on her mobile abilities. She has become and expert crawler and can pull herself up and zip around the coffee table with no problems. Her vocal skills are also changing and she has added many more sounds to her already growing incoherent vocabulary. But an all new ability has reared its head in our household and we’re not sure we like its arrival. It has come to our attention that we are raising a Diva.

That’s right. Forget the first tooth or the first steps. Finley’s new thing is to sport an attitude. Okay, so she’s a baby and she really doesn’t know any better(or does she?), but when our little angel becomes "Prissy Missy," it’s not a lot of fun.

Of course, this was all inevitable. In her first ten months of life, she’s pretty much gotten everything she wanted, when she wanted it. But now that we’re actively taking things away or keeping her from things, she’s got no way to respond other than to let the tears fly. If you look at it from her point of view, it’s all she’s got. She can’t ask us for anything. She can’t understand why we’re taking the TV remote from her or why she can’t stick her hands in the DVD player. So why not do what she does best… (Well, aside from pooping, anyway) …just furrow up those little brows and scream bloody murder.

Most of the time, we can replace the object of her affection with a new, shinier and/or noisier object. But if she gets on a roll, it may take a bit to calm her down. I have a feeling that if someone were to one day create a device to translate babies’ cries into words, tirades like hers would only be safe on cable television.

It starts out innocently enough. One of us sets something, like a remote, on the table. In her little mind, she’s thinking “That thing MUST be very important if the big people always have it… I wonder why they grab it so much and more importantly… I wonder what it tastes like?” So off she scoots, crawling and pulling herself up to the coffee table. Then suddenly, the big daddy hand comes in, snags the new prize and replaces it with the same old building block she’s been gumming all day.

Right away, it’s the end of the world. It’s not just a cry, but a wail of pain. “How could you do this to me? ME! I will never be the same if I don’t have that shiny thing.” If you’re not quick enough to respond to the first leg of the tantrum, she’ll move on to the more dramatic round… the big, deep breath portion of the tear fest.

This particular feat can be part scary, part funny. This is where she sucks in so much air between cries that she can’t quite let it out - My sister perfected this act as an infant to the point where she would pass out from not letting any air out. Scared my parents to death - But once, she comes around and gets that deep breath cry out it’s quite a doozy. It’s got that touch of revenge that says “Now look what you’ve done. I’m letting the whole world know how mean you are to me.”

My favorite part is the final part, as she begins to calm down. The breathing returns to normal, but there are little pockets of anger like she’s saying “Okay, I’ll be calm… but don’t EVER do that again! Things are fine, I’m better now… HOW COULD YOU DO THAT? I’m good. Let me catch my breath. MEANIES!!!”

Of course if you get her what she wanted she turns into the sweet little thing that would never dare shed a tear or show anger. You know, the kid she is around every one else.

So now we’ve begun the journey into the land of “No.” She doesn’t quite understand it… We think. She’ll crawl up to the DVD player and one of us will sternly say “Finley… No.” And she does what kids for centuries have done… she turns to us slowly and smiles. This is why I don’t totally believe she doesn’t know what “no” means.

And every five minutes, she’s back up to the DVD player. And every five minutes we’re pulling her away and plopping her down amidst her toys. Sometimes she is fine. Sometimes she’ll let out a little whimper. Obviously it’s a bit frustrating to do all of this over and over again, but it’s more frustrating to me that I can’t explain WHY I’m moving her away from this highly interesting thing. But she’s terrible at speaking and I’m not fluent in baby talk, so we’ll just have to meet halfway.

And that’s how we learn. Both the parent and the baby. As much as I hate hearing her cry and curse us in baby language, we’re at the delicate point of making sure not to spoil. So sometimes you just have to let her go to town. And it’s really not that bad. She’s not constantly freaking out, because there really isn’t that much she can get into. It’s just the idea that this is only the beginning. Right now, I can deal with her little tirades and tantrums. At this age, she’s fairly easy to distract and can turn the waterworks off pretty quickly. Plus, most of the time, she’s just tired and cranky. And scooping her up and setting her in her crib is not only a bit of a time out, it can lead to a much needed nap.

But talk to me in thirteen years. We’ll see how well I can deal with her tirades and tantrums. AND, we’ll see who will want to lay down for a nap when she’s done. My bet… It’s this guy.

Sick Day

I had this blog all planned out. I was going to write about Finley’s first Christmas and the past few weeks, which saw many great advancements in our little girl’s development. But in FinleyWorld, plans have a way of being re-worked – often on the fly.

One of the things you learn as a parent is how immune to most sicknesses you really are. I, for one, have taken only one sick day from work in the last fifteen years. I rarely get sick – knock on wood. I get the occasional cold or a queasy stomach now and again, but it’s never anything that knocks me completely out of commission. And if I do get a whammy of a flu or something, it usually hits me, ironically, on a day off or a weekend. But for the most part, I haven’t been really sick since I was a kid. And that’s because kids haven’t built up their immunity.

The great stat we read is that in the first year of daycare you can expect your child to have twelve colds and the parents to have six. That’s because when they’re not running around with a runny nose, they’re acting as carriers to whatever germ hops from one of their classmates to them. So, as a parent, you read the stats, you deal with the sniffles and the coughs and the mucus… And although it may be a bit icky at times, it’s perfectly normal. But that’s just a cold. I was not quite prepared for what happened tonight.

Finley is nearing 11 months and has had several colds that have passed to Momma and me and back again. For the most part, we see it coming. She has a little cough or her nose starts leaking. Then her little throat gets a frog and she sounds like a pug when she sleeps. She gets a bit cranky and even sneezes a little. Momma pulls out the Vicks® vaporizer and we stand by with tissue in hand. Pretty standard stuff. Of course, just when you think you have a handle on reading the signs of sickness, you get a call in the middle of the day… Like we did today.

It was just after noon when the daycare called me to say that “as a courtesy,” they were letting me know that Finley had a rough morning, refusing her food and coughing a whole bunch. They had taken her temperature and it read 99 degrees. At 100 and above, the parents are required to take the kids home. So, they were basically giving us a head’s up that we might have to come get her. They were laying her down for her afternoon nap and would check her temp again when she woke up. After discussing with the Momma, we decided that even if she didn’t reach 100, we’d pull her out of daycare early so she could at least be at home. I checked with the daycare about an hour later and they said she didn’t sleep very long, but was up and playing. No need to get her right away, but a few hours later I was at the daycare picking up a very sleepy little girl and taking her home.

She seemed pretty tired and a little cranky, which is not a surprise. Her nose was running like a faucet, which makes things even more miserable because when we wipe her nose, you’d think she was being tortured. This girl does not like to have her face messed with. We can’t wipe food off of her cheeks or go after a stray booger without a little drama. According to her, it’s the worst thing that has ever happened to her and after we’re done, the waterworks may have stopped, but she goes on cursing Momma and Poppa in her little baby language.

So, I manage to wipe some snot while she screams bloody murder, making her poor, tired little face look even redder and more tired. Momma comes home and helps clean her up a bit and we decide to see if she’ll have dinner and then maybe a bath will help clear her chest and make her feel a bit better.

She does her best to eat but is not quite up to her usual hungry self, Momma notices. Obviously something must be wrong if she’s not eating. And then the coughing begins.

At first I wonder if something is caught in her throat because it’s not your typical cough… it’s more of a hacking/gagging sound. I’m just about to get up to see if I need to administer the baby Heimlich when someone, somewhere turns on a power hose and the contents of my baby’s stomach come shooting out her mouth onto her tray.

And then again. And then a third time. I had heard that kids are masters of projectile vomiting, but you don’t believe it until you see it. And where did all of this come from? Her stomach is maybe the size of a large orange, but it just kept coming.

The thing is, we have all been there. We have all been sick like that. And for the most part, it’s the best thing you can do to start feeling better – get rid of whatever it is that’s making you feel bad. But after you finish you feel weak and shaky and you just want to collapse. This was the first time this little girl had ever gone through any of this and it was just SO sad.
Of course, the first reaction is to get her out of there and cleaned up. And as I’m unhooking her from the high chair, she’s beginning to cry and look at me like “What did I just do?” The poor thing. It was hard to keep the tears back.

But thank goodness for kids and their short-term memory. Once we got her into the bath, it was like it never happened. She was playing in the tub and splashing like it was a normal night. Wouldn’t it be nice to move on from tragedy like that? It’s still playing in my mind. I keep seeing her little face looking at me wondering what just happened.

So, tonight as we laid her down for bed, we gave her a little extra loving. She may get the long rest she deserves, but it will be hard for Momma and Poppa to sleep. And for all of us – the baby and the parents – this is just the beginning. This won’t be the last time she gets sick and this won’t be the last time we lose sleep over it. The only real good thing is that as she gets older, she’ll hopefully only have a few bouts of illness. And for us… well maybe we’ll learn to take turns worrying and try to plan who gets to stay awake each night. But we know what happens when you make plans.

On Hiatus

Sorry it's been a while since I've posted. Now that the holidays are over, I'll put something new up on Monday, January 7th. See you then!

Early Christmas

Yesterday marked Finley’s 10-month birthday. And in celebration, we had a big family get together, where we exchanged gifts. No, not really. We, in fact, celebrated Christmas a bit early with my family. It turned out that my nephew, who lives in Hawaii, was able to sneak home a little early, so in order to have the whole family there at the same time, we moved Christmas up a bit and it just happened to be the same day Finley turned 10 months.

Now some of you may be thinking that if she’s 10 months old on December 16, that would make her 12 months on February 16^th, not March 11^th, which is her actual birthday. It turns out, when you’re keeping track of babies that just like during pregnancy; everything is in weeks, not months. And since several months have a little more than four weeks in them, it throws things off a bit.

This means that when Finley turns a year old on March 11th, she will actually be just over 62 weeks old. Those of you who want to do the math can add 10 weeks to every year of your life (a month and a half) and figure out how old you REALLY are. I’m not sure this works when trying to prove you can buy alcohol, but it’s certainly a conversation starter.

At any rate, this weekend, although a bit premature, was Finley’s first foray into Christmas festivities. Of course, this meant that Momma was prepared with a little outfit that turned out to be several little outfits once we showed up to my sister’s house. Sandy, it turns out, just became a grandma in October and when she realized not just one but TWO babies would be experiencing their first Christmas, she designated herself “Official Outfitter of Baby’s 1^st Christmas, 2007. “

You would think the babies were sisters instead of second cousins, but matching outfits were the plan of the day and after several thousand photographs, we got down to business with baby gifts.

Predictably, the wrapping paper and bows were far more interesting that what was neatly wrapped inside. But once the safety measures, shoplifting devices and other packaging gauntlets were breached, we were able to hand over the prizes to Finley who’s first matter of business was to decide how each and every gift tasted.

Once the gift satisfied her palate, we spent the next several moments showing her how to play with the darned things. We really should have known better, because all of her toys, now matter how big or small, loud or quiet, colorful or bland have three main purposes:

1. To be tasted.
2. To act as some sort of drum for her to beat on.
3. To be knocked over again and again.

Anything beyond these basic principles is really just an added bonus.

For instance, she received a neat little farmhouse from our friends in Portland, Tony and Michelle. It has a little barn door that plays “Old McDonald” whenever you open it. She doesn’t quite yet know how to make it play music, but whenever one of us sets the song off, Finley bops her head and then her whole body along to the tune. It’s pretty funny. And even funnier if she hears music when she’s pulled herself up to standing. Then the knees and the rear get into the act. But the thing she’s learned to do, that I find most fascinating, is that she’s beginning to play catch with her old man.

She has this little plastic ball that’s been a chew toy for her for quite some time. The other night, I wanted to see what she would do when I got on the floor with her and rolled it her way. She immediately got the idea and in her pre-toddler way, attempted to roll the ball back to me. There were actually a few times where she rolled it to me perfectly, and as I told her “Hooray!” for each time she tried to push the ball to me, she would bop her head back and forth and smile. She could tell it was a game and she could tell she was doing it right.

Now I know that it’s not exactly catch and really just a tail and a slobbery tongue away from being considered “fetch,” but it’s the beginning of something. She knows that the ball will be coming from me and she knows she has to try and send it back to me. She’s learned the basics of action and reaction. I think that’s pretty cool.

So as we head toward the actual Christmas holiday, I know we can expect a few more toys and a few more outfits. We will have several hundred more photographs to be taken and possibly multiple wardrobe changes. I’m enjoying watching everyone watching her and seeing what I’m lucky to see everyday; this little girl who’s crawling and climbing and growing. It’s cool to see how amazed everyone is by what she’s been able to learn in just a few short months. I’m amazed every day. Not just by the things she’s learning, but by the things she’s teaching me.

It’s not only the ultimate lesson of learning to crawl and taking things slowly, but it’s a lesson in how much joy even the little things in life can and should bring. Every single thing she does makes her smile and I envy that. But then again, every single thing she does makes ME smile. So my gift this Christmas is just watching and enjoying her. It’s the greatest gift I could ever ask for.

Back in the USA

Well, we are back from Mexico and quite travel weary. So forgive me if this post winds up on the short end of things. Jet lag is a crazy thing, especially with a baby in tow! But I can safely say that Finley was a fantastic traveler on her first big adventure.

When I last left you, The Princess had just discovered the glory of the Lazy River. And, no day at the pool was complete with out two or three trips to her new favorite place. She would smile from ear to ear the entire time and do her latest noise, which is a hearty laugh, almost fake in its delivery, like she is saying, “HA-HA!” This forced laugh combined with her flailing and splashing made for quite the hilarious scene as we made our way down the Lazy River.

Of course, the trip wasn’t all swimming pools and sun. Okay, it was MOSTLY swimming pools and sun. But, when she wasn’t splashing herself like crazy, Miss Finley was practicing her standing skills as often as possible. And by practice, I mean she was pulling her self up to any and every ledge she could get her little fingers on to. But it wasn’t just standing, it was also a few falls, but her new thing is to make her way around a ledge or table with little side steps. Yep, she’s figuring out this walking thing.

I’m not sure if I should be glad she’s figuring out or not. The tough part, right now, is that as she’s literally taking baby steps, she’s also taking baby falls. For the most part, I think the crying is more about the frustration than it is the pain, but every once in a while, she takes a pretty good tumble and winds up with a bump or bruise on her noggin.

It’s tougher on the Momma than it is on me, but a crying baby is never any fun. I’m from the school that she has to take these tumbles to learn how to fall properly or catch herself or just be more careful. It all drives Heather nuts, and every time gravity asserts itself, she’s either gasping or lunging to save the day. But Momma and drama kind of go together.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want her to get hurt, either… I’ve had a couple of diving saves myself… But, as long as there’s a safe place to land, I think she can handle a drop to the ground a few times. She’s a tough kid and pretty much made of rubber at this point. But like I said, a crying baby is never any fun, so I find myself inching a bit closer to the babe as she does her acrobatics.

That being said, one of the best parts of our trip home from Mexico was seeing Finley standing up on our laps, gripping the back of the seat in front of us and beaming her cute little smile at all the passengers boarding our flight. She made quite a few friends on the way home, and actually managed to stay in a good mood and keep awake on the first of the two flights.

After a hurried but smooth trip through customs and baggage re-check in Dallas, we boarded our final flight for a four-hour ride home, not knowing if she would keep her good mood streak alive or flip out in baby rage. Luckily for us, she decided to sleep… the ENTIRE flight!

We found our seats and prepped for whichever mood she decided on. Momma gave her a bottle as we left the ground, and she was out. Simple as that. We were lucky enough to have an extra seat in our row, which happened to be the perfect size for our sleepy traveler. Two time zones later, we landed in Seattle with a happy baby and memories of a great first family vacation.

So, now that rain clouds and wind have replaced the sun and sand, we can look back at a very successful trip with the baby. Heather and I are hoping to get her used to traveling so that she can grow up as a responsible and wise traveler. The way we look at it, Finley just had her first trip in a great big world that is hers to travel whenever and wherever she wants.

Hola de México

Greetings from south of the border! We've ventured to Puerto Vallarta for our first family vacation, and I must say, the little girl is quite the traveler. I thought I'd write a real quick note about our trip so far. I'll put up some pictures, next week.
We weren't sure how she would do on the plane, but we were prepared, just the same. Prior to our departure, Heather and I put together little bags of goodies for our fellow passengers. The "gift bags" consisted of ear plugs, mints, gum, aspirin and a granola bar and included a little note that said: "My name is Finley and I am 9 months old. This is my first trip on a plane, so please be patient with me and my parents. My mommy and daddy would like to offer you these treats to thank you in advance. Have a nice flight!" It was a good move.
Finley was actually very good. Our first plane left early enough in the morning and we were lucky to be able to get an empty seat in our row where she could lay down and sleep a bit. It was pretty much the same on our connecting flight from Dallas to Puerto Vallarta. She had a bit of trouble with her ears on the landing, but it didn't last very long at all. She gets that from her daddy.
Once we landed in PV(as the kids call it), we made our way to our resort, the Grand Mayan. Our rooms(Heather's mom is joining us on the trip), which are huge, are connected by a main living room and kitchen. That living room is now under the rule of Princess Finley. We threw together some cushions and other pads to create a play area for the little one. She spends her time going back and forth, crawling and climbing on anything she can get her little paws on. And as much as she likes that, she loves the pool even more.
We haven't had the chance to get Finley to a big pool, yet so we weren't sure how she would do. It was a little cold on her feet and legs at first, but once she got in she absolutely loved it! We bought a little infant pool floatie that she sits in. It allows her to float safely in basically an innertube with netting. You would think it was the greatest thing she'd ever done. The best part is the "lazy river." This is a water path that's 2-3 feet deep and goes in a meandering loop around the resort property. It has several air jets along the way that shoot up from the floor and create a constant current. You can grab an innertube and just go around and around if you like. It's not super fast, but it moves pretty well. Finley is crazy about it.
The first time we took her in it, she just cackled the whole time. She can kick and splash and zip along next to momma, poppa and nana. AND, when she's done, she's so wiped out, she nods off for a few hours. So, we've all been enjoying the sun (lots and lots of baby sunblock!) and fun and really enjoying relaxing away from home.
We miss all of you, but you understand if we don't come back right away! I'll have much more in my next blog, but I thought you would like to hear how things are and how well Finley is doing on her first big trip.
From our little sunny part of the world to yours, we hope all is well and we will see you soon!

Thankful

Well, it’s nearly that time of year where we make like a Turkey and stuff ourselves. For me, Thanksgiving has always been about spending time with the folks you used to spendevery day with. Heather and I are both lucky enough to have immediate family members within a few driving hours of us, so the holidays aren’t the only time we get to see family, but they are still very enjoyable.

We usually have fairly small, family Thanksgivings, because both of us have uprooted families. My parents left the dusty panhandles of Texas and Oklahoma for the clean Washington rain. Heather traveled in a Navy gypsy caravan and wound up going from Pennsylvania to Whidbey Island just in time for her high school years. So, for both of us, Thanksgiving was about immediate family… Mom and dad and the siblings. And as time has gone by, the parents who left a family behind now have a larger family, here. Which means Finley is fortunate to spend her first of many Thanksgivings with Aunts and Uncles and cousins.

So, in the spirit of being thankful, I would have to say the first thing on my list I am thankful for, is my family. I know that’s a pretty basic one, but it’s important. Without my family, I wouldn’t be the person I am. I wouldn’t have done all the things in my life that lead me to these past few amazing years. And there’s nothing that can compare to my life with Heather and Finley. So, thanks to my family for getting me here.

Which leads me to my girls. One of the things that makes Thanksgiving a little extra special around our home, is that it was about this time a few years ago that Heather and I “officially” started dating. I remember having Thanksgiving with my family and telling them about my “new girlfriend.” Of course, my mom needed to know every last detail, and I obliged. Fast forward, and now we’re on the verge of celebrating our first Turkey Day with our own little turkey. And that’s the second thing on my thankful list.

I can’t think of anything that feels more like a gift than the day that little girl arrived. Heather and I both knew I was in trouble from the moment we found out she was going to be a she. And it’s so true. Finley has her old man wrapped around her finger and I’m gladly wrapped. Whether it’s seeing that first smile of the day or kissing her forehead, gently, as she lays down for the night, there’s only one thing in my life to match the love I have for that little girl. And that’s the love I have for that little girl’s mommy.

I thought it couldn’t get any better, as I stood on the beach in Mexico, trading vows with the love of my life. I thought things were pretty great. I had this fabulous woman. We loved all the time we spent with each other. We had nothing but time. Then the stork came by and dropped off a package. And it just keeps getting better.

I like to think I’m a pretty good Daddy. I can be left alone with the girl for several hours and the house doesn’t burn down. I can change a diaper with the best of them, and I don’t get as wet at bath time as I used to. But when it comes to parenting, I am nothing compared to Heather. Everything I am as a dad comes from watching her. And you know what? It makes me love her even more. Last on my thankful list, but first in my heart… Heather.

I didn’t know what would happen after the baby came. I didn’t know if everything was going to be baby, baby, baby and no us. But somehow… because of Heather… it has never been an issue. There is baby time… which is 98% of the time… and then there’s us time. And all of it… Every single second… is great. I’m not saying we live a perfect life. I’m not saying we don’t argue or even drive each other batty. But there’s no one I’d rather be batty with than her.

It all comes together at the end of the day. I sneak into Finley’s room and lay a hand on her back and feel her little body breathing. Then I crawl into bed and wrap my arms around Heather and feel her breathing. And every night, I feel the same… it takes my breath away.