Movin’ On Up!

One of the most wonderful things about being a parent is watching your child grow and develop. It can also be quite sad. It wasn’t so long ago that there was this little tiny girl lying on my chest in the middle of the night. For a while, that was the only way to get her to sleep. The warmth and familiarity of being so close to a heartbeat reminded her of the womb and she would drift off curled up as I stared at her tiny face.

Eventually, she learned to fall asleep in her crib and although it allowed Heather and I a little more peace at night, I miss the way she curled up in my arms. It’s pretty much the same story with everything else. From sleeping to eating to bath time, the process has evolved as she has. She even thinks she knows how to read. See below.

But today marked a very big step in Finley’s walk of life. Today she moved up from the infant room at daycare to the toddler room.

Just like everything else, it was inevitable. That doesn’t mean we have to enjoy it! I’m actually okay with it. She’s walking and trying to talk and it’s time to spend her days with kids and teachers who will help her in the next process of her evolution. It was a bit more traumatic for Heather. That’s because she had to drop Finley off this morning. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been much easier for me.

It’s not like they threw Finley in with the big kids, cold turkey. The daycare powers-that-be had been gradually introducing her to the toddler room for several weeks. But today was the first full day in the Big Leagues. And right from the start, Momma saw what rookies go through.

I guess Heather sat Finley down on a little riding toy and as soon as Momma turned away, some big kid pushed Finley off. It’s the typical law of the jungle in the toddler room. Finley is new meat and will be until the next lamb enters the arena. This makes Heather more worried than usual. I’m not extremely worried, but I also trust the teachers and there’s a part of me that hopes this will make Finley tough… But not too tough.

I’m hoping that she can learn to stand her ground – or even better – figure out how to get that kid to share. I’m sure I’m asking for a lot, but it’s worth a shot. The thing is, we’re dealing with the most basic human instincts and emotions, here. And the teacher is not going to be able to see everything. It’s not like its “The Lord of the Flies” in there, but I’m sure there will be days when she’ll come home with a scratch or a bite mark.

This is a very important time for her. She’s moved up from coddling and babying to a place where she’ll have to learn the basic rules of society. It’s kind of scary when you think about it, but we all had to go through it in our own way.

Of course, there are many more good things she will experience than bad. This will be the time that she develops speech. She’ll be learning the words that will help her communicate with us and tell us how she feels. This is good because I have a hard enough time trying to read Heather’s mind, let alone Finley’s. This will also be the time she will make her first friends. In just a little while, she’ll have a buddy she will hang out and play with.

The bottom line is that Finley is growing up. And as hard as it is for us to deal with, it’s something we can’t stop. We might as well embrace it and be thankful that she has the opportunity to grow up in such a good atmosphere with good people. And maybe, just maybe, in the not-so-distant future, when the new kid comes into the room and sits on a toy, Finley will help her and not push her. That will make all the worrying worthwhile.

In the meantime, she’ll take her big steps and we’ll smile through the tears. Because as she grows, so will we. That doesn’t mean I still won’t miss her curled up in my arms.

Daddy Moments

Every once in a while as we make our way through life on planet Finley, there are moments that can only be defined as “daddy” moments. These are things that I most likely would have only experienced after becoming a dad. Things that single dudes probably never experience, let alone think about.

Many times these daddy moments are funny and crazy and others can be very serious or even sad. The perfect example of a daddy moment comes from one of my early blogs when in an early morning stupor, I changed baby Finley but forgot to put on the new diaper. I didn’t discover my error until after a particularly stinky blowout. Needless to say, I haven’t forgotten a diaper since. This past week, I got to experience another daddy moment. This one was almost as messy, but not quite as funny.

Finley had been feeling poorly for a few days and we weren’t exactly sure what it was. She had thrown up in her bed in the middle of the night on Sunday, but seemed fine the next day. Then the diarrhea set in and she threw up during dinner on Tuesday. No fever, no other vomiting episodes, just random sickness.

On Wednesday night, Heather was out and I had daddy duty. We were having a great night together, playing and learning. She ate her whole dinner of mac and cheese followed by pineapple chunks. In fact, I was actually thinking that this sickness bug – or whatever it was – had moved on. Bad mistake.

We were getting ready for bed and as I gave her the nighttime bottle, it hit. One moment she was eagerly awaiting her bottle and the next, we were both covered in mac and cheese and pineapple chunks. No matter what people tell you about what to expect as a parent, there’s not much you can do to prepare for something like this.

First of all, it’s such a surprise that there is this moment where you’re thinking, “did that just happen?” Then, the parenting gene kicks in and before you know it, you’ve somehow gotten everyone and everything to a sink and are wiping down everyone and everything.

This, was a daddy moment. Never in the forty years previous to last Wednesday did I ever think I’d be in this situation. I mean, I knew going into this child gig that kids get sick and I expected to be on the cleanup end of a few trips to the toilet. But, being the recipient of the blast is not quite what I had in mind.

And to her credit – even though she just exhaled her dinner – she was over it in seconds, giggling and playing with her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She wasn’t too terribly annoyed with having to change all of her clothes, either. I figure whatever it was that had been bothering her had been exorcised along with that last meal.

It turns out, after a trip to the doc the next day, that she may have had a touch of the rotavirus, which is why it wasn’t your normal flu or stomach bug. After a really rough Thursday at home with Momma, she made a full recovery and is her normal, walking, babbling self. And I’m happy to say I, too, made a full recovery after a full scrub of the bathroom sink and a change of clothes of my own.

So, I’ll just chalk that one up to another in my growing list of daddy moments. I know my list will get even longer and may include things like trips to the emergency room, the fixing of toys and/or dolls, many scrapes and cuts that will bleed and perhaps some sort of process in which I am the model for a little hairdresser wannabe.

The thing is, as much as some of these daddy moments will make me wince and shake my head, I’d rather be living these moments than wondering what I was missing.

Submitted for Your Approval

It’s no secret how enlightening raising a child can be. There are all these statistics about how much children learn in their first five years… How much of a sponge their little brains are. But, when you step back for a moment, you start to realize how much YOU are learning.

I’m not just talking about the ability to turn a routine diaper change into the equivalent of a NASCAR pit stop or all the things you never realized you could do while holding a child in one arm. I’m talk about discovering a little bit more about yourself than you probably thought you would. And in some cases, maybe a bit more than you really wanted to learn.

When you’re tasked to raise a small human, you find out how well you can deal with little emergencies and you find out how patient you really are… Not just how patient you thought you were.

As a parent you discover the beauty of a sleeping child. Not just the fact that they are sweet and innocent lying there, but the TRUE beauty – which is that you might be able to get a few things done around the house.

I catch myself staring a lot. I just like to watch her figure things out. I like watching her little body movements and the way she furrows her brow when she’s looking at something. I wonder what she’s thinking and how her little brain is processing all of this without the help of a language. And recently, we started noticing her doing something that I hadn’t really thought she’d be doing so early in life.

As she grows and learns, we make sure we encourage her along the way. Whether it’s taking steps or feeding herself, we’re cheering her on with applause and a “Yay, Finley!” And now she’s starting to expect it.

The other night, Momma was cheering her along as she was putting her little blocks into the right hole on one of her toys when Finley started turning around to make sure I was watching. She needed Poppa’s approval. It makes plenty of sense, because she’s so used to us reacting to her every move. It just makes me think how simple it starts and how many of us still look to our parents for approval years and years later.

Sure, we may be our own people as adults and have no one to answer to, really. But there’s a small bit in all of us that wants to make our parents proud. And it all started way back before we even knew what the word “approval” was.

How many times in the years to come will I be watching Finley at a recital or playing a sport and see her turn around to find me in the crowd or on the sideline? Part of me feels guilty for having her think she’ll always need me and part of me hopes she’ll always want me to be proud.

I’m pretty sure being a parent is keeping those two things balanced as best as we can. I’m also pretty sure that there will be some years between the ages of 12 and 20 when she’ll say she won’t care what I think. And as much as I know she probably won’t mean it, it will still hurt a bit.

But ultimately, our job as parents is to help her realize that the only person she needs to make proud, is herself… That she is the one she should be trying to impress. When she gets to that point, however far into the future that is, I’ll be there when she turns around to find me. And I’ll be proud.

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.