Whack Job

One of the things I try to pride myself on in this fatherhood thing, is to not be too overprotective.

I’ve said from the beginning that I believe that kids need to fall down and get scrapes… within reason, of course. I think bumping your head a few times now and again, teaches you to duck. I believe you’re not doing your job as a kid if you don’t have skinned knees every once in a while.

Sure, I want her to wear a helmet when she rides a bike and I always make sure she’s strapped in when we’re driving. But beyond that, I could care less about her clothes or what she spills on them. I’m not wrapping her in saran wrap every time we eat or every time she colors. Kids spill. I just don’t think she needs to worry about vanity at this point. And that’s the way I liked it… Until this past weekend.

For the past couple of weeks, Finley has been saying she wanted to get her hair cut. We had gone to a kid’s hair place before and she was a bit scared, but now she seemed interested and even requested to go back to the same place, because they had an airplane chair she could sit in.

So we made the trip to the mall in Bellevue where the kid salon was. It’s a popular mall with the Princess because they also have a bunch of 25 cent rides she can go on… a carousel, a car, and a horse, among others. We hit the salon first and I only had one request; DO NOT cut it short.

I’m not sure why I was so adamant to keep her hair long. I guess I’m just not a fan of short hair on kids. And I guess I’m just so used to Finley’s long hair, that I made sure to say something.

When Finley got set up in the chair, Heather told the gal to just trim up the loose and scraggly ends… not much more than an inch, really. Things were good. The stylist said she was going to layer the hair in the back and I stepped out to get some quarters for the rides, but when I came back, I got quite the surprise.

There, on the floor, beneath the chair, was more blonde hair than I was expecting. A lot more. Somewhere between “trimming” and “layering” the stylist decided that Finley would look much cuter with a bob.

Anyone who knows me knows I don’t get mad very often. I try to be as laid back as possible. But for a few seconds this past Saturday, I was seething. I decided to step out of the salon for a few moments and take a few deep breaths. I had to remind myself that hair grows back and there’s not much we can do about it now, anyway. That doesn’t mean I’m not still disappointed and that we won’t be heading back to that particular hair salon.

Again, I’m not sure why I’m upset over her short hair. Most of it is because I said I didn’t want it short and the rest is because, it’s hard for me to see my Finley without her hair. Maybe I’m being selfish, because she DOES look cute with the bob, but I really liked her with long hair. She’s the same crazy girl who I love a ton and who loves me a ton back. I guess I’m just going to have to get used to the change.

Which makes me think about next year and five years from now and ten years from now. All the changes that are coming up, that we’ll have to talk about. Hair, I’m sure, will be the least of my worries.

I’m sure we’ll have talks about earrings and nose rings and boys and lip rings and eyebrow rings and boys and tattoos and hair color and skirts and tops and boys. All the things she’ll be interested in, but that I’m not so sure of. Well, I’ll let her have a nose ring over a boy, any day, actually.

The reality is, I can’t control it. I can help guide the best I can, she’s going to have to make the decisions and live with the results. I can hand her the peroxide for her ear holes.

I guess I just have to learn now – with this new haircut – to just keep finding my Finley underneath it all. She always be there, no matter what the outside looks like.

Happy New Year!!

Happy Holidays!

See Finley Run

One thing we noticed early on as Finley got up on two feet

was how fast she was. I don’t know if it’s because she’s so low to the ground or if there’s some instinctive ability that switches on when we need her to do something, but that kid can run.

I think it’s more of the latter because whenever it’s time to wipe her nose she sprints for the couch. Or anytime her naked butt is showing, she has to do a lap around the house. It must have to do with escape and freedom, because it seems like we’re always chasing her. In fact, much like my parents did with me, we’ve purchased a little harness to keep her from running away or into the street. It’s a little monkey backpack but the tail of the monkey happens to be just long enough for mom and dad to hold onto.

For the longest time, I was convinced that our little FloJo was going to challenge peers for the short distance sprints. I was sure she was destined for flat track glory. That was until this past weekend.

This was our second year as a family to do the family walk version of the Jingle Bell Run for Arthritis. It’s a 5k (just over 3 miles) walk around downtown Seattle. It’s a big fundraiser that features holiday costumes from pretty much all of the entrants.

So we loaded up the stroller, complete with bows and Christmas lights. I donned my Winnie-the-Pooh costume and Heather had her Santa hat and Christmas sunglasses.

As much fun as it was seeing the other folks with elf, snowflake, and candy cane costumes, it’s still a bit of a hike and for a toddler like Finley, the first mile or so of people watching starts to get old and she wants out. We decided we’d wait until the last mile or so to let her get out – that way the crowd would have thinned out and we could always throw her back in the stroller and not have far to go to the finish, if she got tired or cranky.

And sure enough as we made the turn for the last mile we pulled her out and set her on the ground, complete with her backpack/harness. I was expecting her to shoot off right away, but she was still checking out the scene and wasn’t ready to go anywhere fast.

Finally, we had to encourage her to get moving, since we were beginning to get passed by the rest of the field. So she started to walk. Of course, her steps aren’t the biggest so her walk was not much faster than when we were standing still.

We kept encouraging her to pick up the pace, but she didn’t want to have anything to do with it. Then, out of nowhere she started to jog. It definitely wasn’t a sprint, but it was enough to get me into a quick walk behind her, as I held on to the leash. And she kept going and kept going. Suddenly, my mini Usain Bolt was turning into more of a pre-Prefontaine. She was turning into a distance runner. The best part was that as she jogged, she kept her hands in her coat pocket, so she had this little upper body twisting thing going on. But she kept on going.

I guess-timated that she easily went a half mile without stopping, which for her first go-round at 2-years old is pretty darned good. Of course, when we got to a steeper hill, things began to slow down and I eventually carried her across the finish line on my shoulders. But she did a good section of the last mile on her own.

Obviously, she saw it as a whole lot of fun in a wide open world, not a race or exercise. But, that’s probably the best way to approach running. It’s probably the best way to approach anything, come to think of it. It will be interesting to see what she’s like in a year, and see how much farther she can go. Maybe each year she goes a little bit more, until she runs the whole thing on her own. And maybe, just maybe, Momma and Poppa can run right along side. It would be fun to go from the stroller to running. Who knows, maybe in a few more years, she can push me!

Getting Ready for the Holidays

It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas

What a difference a year makes.

This time last year, we were introducing Finley to the lights, music, and excitement of the holidays. And for a one year old, the lights and the music were pretty much all the excitement she needed. Heck, the wrapping paper meant more to her than the presents inside. But it’s all changed.

Finley is now into it. She helped decorate our condo-sized or Finley-sized tree last night. And she’s quite interested in the concept of the stockings. She likes to point out whose stocking is whose. And she’s just a tad into the music.

She’s roaming around the house singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs – she may not know all the words, but she knows when to shout “Hey!” She’s also very aware of Santa Claus and his job in this whole “give me what I want” scenario.

She’s still young enough to not understand the reward system that the Santa thing entails. She knows the words to “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” but it’s clear she doesn’t understand them. There’s not much watching out and the pouting and the crying are still in play. In her defense, she’s really not at the age to completely understand the concept of a list of naughty and nice kids. If you ask her, she’s always on the nice list.

In fact, her whole understanding of Santa is that he’s here to do her bidding. She knows what she wants and she’s pretty much decided Santa’s bringing it all. Basically, she thinks he’s me. And she’s right. Well, actually, I’m sure there are a few grandparents out there that will help in providing the joy.

At this point, if you ask her what she wants for Christmas, it’s a pretty generic answer. She’ll either say, “A Dora present” or “A Ariel present.” She’s not into specifics, just yet. I’m sure the time will come when she’ll be able to rattle off exactly what type of Dora present or what color of dress this Ariel is wearing or what songs are included on this Dora DVD. But for now, anything with Dora or Ariel will suffice.

All in all, her excitement for the big day is still a ways away from peaking. As we get closer to Christmas, I’m sure it will be all we can do to keep her from exploding. And as she gets older, the excitement along with the planning and strategy that kids employ during this time of year will begin to reveal itself. We’ll have to work a little harder at hiding the presents and pushing the other side of the whole season, which is the giving aspect.

Hopefully, she’ll learn that as much fun as it is to get gifts, it’s equally as heartwarming to give them away and even help some less fortunate kids at the same time. Whether it’s donating some time or clothes or even a few old toys, we plan to get Finley in on the giving side of Christmas.

For now, we’ll listen to her mumble her way through all the Christmas songs and talk about what Santa should bring her. He’s making his list alright. A list of all the things she wants. How many Dora presents could there be out there, anyway?

Figuring it out

Near the top of my list of the thousands of things I love about

being a dad is being able to watching Finley discover. I love seeing her thought process as she figures out how to work a toy or maneuver around or over something. I like that, for the most part, she likes to take her time to figure things out.

Sure, she can get frustrated easily and can start to cry if she’s impatient, but we usually encourage her to fix the situation or ask nicely for help if she needs to. Most of the time she’ll figure it out and when she does you can see the look of satisfaction in her eyes and a sense that she’s storing that newly-found process away for later.

Sometimes it amazes me how much of our day-to-day activities we take for granted. Watching a toddler try to figure out how to zip up a coat or navigate stairs really brings home how much we really learn in our lives.

Take a look at everything you do in a day and think about how many of those actions would either be impossible or very difficult to a toddler. I’m talking about writing your name, tying a shoelace, or even putting on clothes. The mundane is a bit of work when you’re two.

This past weekend – in between rain showers – we went to the park to let her ride her trike and to climb on some of the toys. Some of the steps and ladders they have nowadays for slides and other playground toys are designed to be challenging. One of the toys had what was basically netting for her to climb. She had to figure out where to place her feet AND her hands as she navigated her way up. At one point she had gone a little off course but was able to correct her direction just by evaluating what it would take to get to where she needed to go. Again, pretty simple stuff for us big kids… something to learn for the little ones.

But there’s one other factor in learning one’s way in the world that I watched her figure out at that playground. It’s one thing to understand what it takes physically to get from point a to point b, but it’s another to have the courage to do it.

This particular playground had what was basically a balance bar with steps on it. You have to put your feet on each step to make your way across the bar that was less than a foot off the ground. One misstep and you fall.

At first she didn’t want to do it without holding on to me. But once she learned that if she took her time and concentrated on each step, she didn’t need my help. It wasn’t much of a fall, but it was enough that she was a little scared. But her desire to get across was stronger than her fear of falling and after a few slow and steady steps, she made it to the end.

The look of pride that she had was priceless. And I was proud of her for taking the time to figure it out. Of course, after that first trip, she wasn’t afraid and was ready to try again. In a few months or years, I’m guessing she’ll be able to run across it without really thinking.

It just makes me think about everything we do. About how much of a hurry we think we need to be in and how that can affect how well we perform or create. Patience is a hard thing to teach – especially to a toddler. But if she can learn now to work through problems and challenges, there’s no stopping her.

I just have to remember when I’m faced with something a bit daunting, that if I take one step at a time, I can make it across safely. Pretty simple stuff we all know, but don’t always remember or stop to do. Looks like the toddler isn’t the only one learning.