2 and a half

A guy named Tiny and the pink dragon

At bedtime as a kid my dad would tell stories about an imaginary guy named Tiny.

Tiny was little - maybe as tall as a penny if you stood one on its edge. I never learned the details of what he looked like but my imagination suggests he resembles a miniature version of Ernie from Sesame Street. Tiny lived in my younger brother Brian's pant cuff, of all places, which means he would travel wherever Brian went (unless my brother wore shorts I guess). My memory is hazy but neighborhood bike rides or digging in the sandbox or playing tether ball probably consisted of adventures for Tiny.

Everything is bigger when you're a kid so even a trip down the block represented an epic tale, even if in each instance he was to return to the relative safety of Brian's pant cuff. In addition to the song Blue Spanish Eyes and some story about an invisible creature that scared me to death, this is what I remember experiencing before bedtime as a child.

My contribution to the legacy of child storytelling is now unfolding with Audrey. Instead of Tiny it's a small pink dragon and, to steal somewhat from my father, she travels around in Grace's pant pocket. Her name is Elizabeth and she is quite friendly, even if she does breathe fire every now and again.

The way we settled on the idea of a pink dragon named Elizabeth already eludes me but now, at bedtime, Audrey will ask for a story and when I respond, "What kind of story?" she says, "One about a dragon," and when I ask, "What color dragon?" she says, "Pink." There is no doubt that if I asked, "Which pink dragon do you have in mind?" that she would state, "Elizabeth," but I haven't asked her that yet.

I have to make up my stories on the fly and sometimes I think they turn out great and sometimes I think they flop. But Audrey always thinks they are great and sometimes laughs which is what is so nice about telling stories to your own toddler - they love you no matter what.

The setting of each story is the same as when I was learning about Tiny - stuff around the neighborhood, the yard, the house and so on. Sometimes other dragons (green ones, blue ones, yellow ones, etc.) are part of the story. And each time Elizabeth returns to Grace's pant pocket to reside with the lint and whatever else may be hiding in there. 

I've discovered the setting or the story isn't really the point though, even though I feel pressure to make the story interesting and tell it well. The point is that I have Audrey's undivided attention and she has mine - it's special father-daughter bonding time - and she likes it enough to ask me to do it again the next night. That's what makes it worthwhile. That, and it keeps me sharp, since I've got to do it on the fly. I wonder what the next installment will be like.

Milestone

I congratulated myself on orangehornet when it happened and I'll congratulate myself here now - 100 posts and counting. Good job John.

Watching movies

Audrey, at age 3, is getting so she'll watch movies with us now. We recently watched Wall-E and she patiently sat through most of it. Not long ago she could've cared less about animated films or cartoons - she was all about Sesame Street and Barney and couldn't sit for 5 minutes through an adult movie. But I even got her to sit through some of The Firm the other night. We can still forget about the movie theater though - my wife took her to Up! and they walked out minutes after the start because Audrey was scared. Too big a screen I guess. She'll get there. 

Standing

Yesterday evening I was stunned when I stood Grace up and she seemed to be balancing on her own. I let go for a second or so, then a few more, and she stood, even if only for a few moments, without my help. She turned 9 months old 3 days ago... Audrey walked on her 1st birthday. Will Grace do it sooner?

Coming home

There's something special about the moment when a parent comes home from a trip to see the family. Everyone is excited, there are smiles all around.

When I was younger I experienced this from a kid's perspective - my father traveled alot but when he came home there was a certain excitement about it. Sometimes he would bring us small gifts from wherever he had been but generally it was just fun to have everyone back in the same house. And it didn't matter what time it was - early or late, everyone stayed up until he got home.

Yesterday I experienced it from a parent's perspective - it wasn't me coming home this time around, but instead my wife, who was away for 4 days visiting a friend. Grace went along, Audrey stayed with me. Their 8pm arrival was delayed by weather so Audrey and I camped out on the couch and watched a movie. It wasn't until 11pm rolled around that I heard the garage door opening; Audrey had dozed off in my lap 20 minutes earlier.

But when Suzanne walked in the door it was as if Audrey hadn't been asleep at all - within minutes she was smiling and excited and we suddenly found ourselves in a circle on the floor playing Duck Duck Goose at Audrey's request. Even little Grace was in mix, sitting in our circle and probably only months away from being able to play the game herself.

All of us were happy to be back together.

Random stream of consciousness

A conversation between me and Audrey the other day on the phone:

D: "Hi Audrey, how are you?"

A: "I'm typing on the computer."

D: "What are you typing?"

A: "I'm typing for you. Will you come over for BBQ?"

D: "Sure. After work ok?"

A: "Will you come stay here all the time and in 5 days you could go home?"

D: "Home? That is my home. What day are we going to do BBQ? Thursday?"

A: "Yeah. I'll call you back."

D: "Why? I want to talk to you. What are you going to do today?"

A: "We're going to hang out. Will you stay here for BBQ and for the whole night?"

D: "Yes."

A: "K. Bye."

The most important job in a man's life

Barack Obama on fatherhood:

I second his call to action. Be a good dad.

Happy father's day...

...to all the dads out there.

Grace and THX

You know the noise that's made when you purse your lips together and blow air through them and they vibrate? And then you add some vocal chords to it and it kind of sounds like, "Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb." That's the noise that Grace loves to make. Expect she makes it sound so much prettier than any adult could. It sort of resembles the sound the little robot makes when he flies around in this THX movie intro - kind of soft and pleasant. Take a listen.

Negotiating with toddlers

In school I learned some of the basics of negotiating - anchoring, having a reservation price, understanding the bargaining range, focusing on interests vs positions, separating people from the problem, distributive vs integrative negotiation. etc. Each week we staged a negotiation and tried to implement some of these concepts. I think I did okay in the course but there was one tactic that I didn't use much. I call it the Audrey method although it's probably more apropos to call it the Toddler method, and it is used by stating something like the following:

"I really, really, REALLY want that!" 

Audrey, being 3, hasn't had the life experience or benefit of school to put the above concepts to use so she resorts to the one method she knows - (i) escalating emphasis on the word "really" followed by (ii) a tantrum if the outcome doesn't match her desires. Sometimes, "Please, please, PLEASE" gets added in there before the tantrum part.

Generally what she's getting after is sugar, staying up later or sleeping in mommy's and daddy's bed instead of her own. A recent variation on the sugar thing is throat lozenges (she calls them cough drops) - she got a taste of a cherry-flavored one the other day and now associates them with candy. Here's a conversation we had the other day to the best of my recollection:

A: (very politely) "Daddy, can I have a cough drop?"

D: "No, you may not. Cough drops are medicine and are only used when you are sick."

A: "But I really want a cough drop - my tummy hurts..."

D: "Your tummy hurts? All of a sudden? Where?"

A: "Right here, Daddy." (pointing)

D: "Why don't you lay down here on the couch? Cough drops aren't going to help your tummy."

A: "But I really want a cough drop!"

D: "Cough drops aren't for your tummy, they're for your throat or if you're coughing. Is your throat sore?"

A: (pauses, thinking) "Yeah..."

D: "So your throat is sore and your tummy hurts?"

A: "Yes Daddy."

D: "We'd better go to the doctor then - she'll need to take a look at you and give you some medicine and maybe a shot. Should we go now?"

A: "Noooo!" (shakes her head) "Can't I just have a cough drop?"

D: "No."

A: (suddenly, after more back and forth) "My tummy feels better Daddy. But I still need a cough drop."

D: "No, you're not sick."

A: "But I really really want one!" (face starts to crinkle up)

D: "Audrey, what did I just say?"

A: (ignoring the question) "I really really REALLY want one Daddy!"

D: "Let's focus on something else, okay?"

A: (tantrum ensues)

As you can see, in this scenario she has ignored each of the fundamental negotiation concepts I outlined above:

Anchoring - she might have started out by asking me for a bag of cough drops at first instead of just one (although I doubt that would have changed the outcome in this case).

Reservation price - she could have considered something worth less to her than a cough drop (e.g. some other perk or treat) that would have still been acceptable to her.  

Understanding the bargaining range - the cough drop was outside my range, and getting nothing was outside hers. Perhaps she should have considered asking for something like a mint or a Skittle - again, something at or above her Reservation price.

Separating people from the problem - impossible. We're talking about a 3-year-old.

Distributive vs integrative negotiation - her approach to the negotiation was distributive (i.e. a win-it-all approach). An integrative (or "expanding the pie") approach would have considered meeting her needs as well as my own (mine are as simple - for example, offering to draw me a picture for my office wall) to make both of us better off.

In a sense, though, "really really REALLY" is far more direct and probably less manipulative than the stuff above which is why I can appreciate it. Not to mention it's all my wife and I can expect from a toddler. 

As smart as Audrey is, pretty soon she'll be weaving circles around us, probably as Grace starts to use the Toddler method. And after that I expect they'll both conspire against us, and then we're in trouble.

Cousins

This past week Audrey's and Grace's cousins Sage and Bryce have been visiting from Las Vegas and her local cousins Jane and Trever have joined the party as well. That's six cousins who have been mixing it up at our house this week.

Having the Vegas boys around has reinforced how different it is to have boys in the house versus girls though (keep in mind I'm the only male in my household). They spend a lot of their time beating on each other, eating and playing video games - basically what you'd expect pre-adolescent boys to do. Audrey gets amped up and runs around after them but mainly hangs with Jane who is also older and who Audrey looks up to like no other. Trever is a year younger than Audrey and enjoys driving his battery-powered, toddler-sized car around the house. And generally my wife and I try to keep baby Grace out of harm's way. (One of the cousins forgot she can't yet walk and set her down on her feet to stand by accident - she was fine but you get the drift.)

Audrey is really loving it. Being a 3-year-old and having all your cousins around is like being... well, a kid in a candy store. But only because they are all eating so much sugar all the time. (What are you supposed to say when your daughter wants candy that her three cousins are munching on right in front of her?) She is really going to miss them when all of them are gone.

Meanwhile our house is a bit like a revolving door. Mi casa su casa, as they say.

My kids are the cutest

As a parent you just think that your kids are by far, without question, undeniably, the cutest kids in the whole world. 

The neighbor's kids? Not so much.

And then you catch yourself wondering, "I'm clearly biased which is why I think my kids are so cute. But are they really that cute from an objective standpoint? Would a complete stranger agree with me that my kids are among the cutest kids they have ever seen?"

You hope the answer is yes but the truth is you'll really never know. No one is going to tell you your kids are ugly. And if someone does tell you they are cute she might just be saying that to make you feel good. And if you ask her, "But do you really think they are cute?" you'll look like you are fishing for compliments even though she will certainly respond with, "Of course!" And then potentially walk off and mumble something like, "Compared to monkey, at least."

But you know what? Who cares. Boy or girl, cute or not, you're lucky when you have healthy, happy kids. And it only matters what you think, not what others think.

What will I do then? I'll go on thinking my kids are the cutest to ever walk the planet. I just know they are. Other parents will too. And everything will be just the way it needs to be.

The t-shirt

At some point I guess little girls like to start wearing oversized t-shirts. A couple days ago Audrey took a liking to her first one (it's one I bought for my wife last year that inadvertently was too small for an adult to wear). It's a blue shirt with a picture of a brown bear on the front that says:

I guess I bought it because it seemed to make light of all the other things people say are wrong with America. Audrey has worn it proudly for 2 days straight and shows no signs of taking it off. Just this morning, in fact, she pointed out her blue t-shirt and reminded me she was wearing it again today.

Butt cream

Butt cream is so important when you have babies or little tots running around.

The irritation caused by their diapers - whether cloth, chlorine-free, Pampers, Huggies or whatever - is unavoidable. It just happens by virtue of the fact that they are little human beings who are sitting in their own potty until someone cleans them up. That, plus irritation caused by other things like chafing or foods or baby medicines or... you name it. Which again is why butt cream is so important.

Lately I'm partial to Burt's Bees Baby Bee Diaper Ointment. Grace had a rash that just wouldn't quit and within a day Baby Bee started to clear it up. It's all-natural too. The ole Boudreaux's Butt Paste - a long time favorite while Audrey was a baby - wasn't doing the trick for whatever reason. Forget about Destin or A&D - we ruled those out long ago. Baby powder or Vaseline? Please.

The right butt cream can mean the difference between a happy baby and an irritable one so you've got to be dedicated about it and apply it liberally. There's nothing worse than being the middle of a diaper change when you discover the cream is missing. (Well, discovering you're out of diapers or wipes is probably worse.) Do you leave the baby on the changing table to go look for it? No, of course not. Do you take the baby with you to look for it and risk an accident on the floor, or worse yet, your clothing? Hopefully not but you might have to. Or do you put the diaper on without any cream and hope a rash doesn't begin to develop between then and the next time you change, at which time you hope the butt cream shows up? Maybe, unless it's before bedtime. And if it is you'd better find the butt cream and apply it before the little tyke goes to sleep.

All of this is why it's good to have tubes of it all over the place - changing tables, bathrooms, bedrooms, the car, etc. Butt cream is so important. And your babies will thank you.

Life jackets

Can they make kids life jackets any bulkier? We took Audrey and Grace boating the other weekend and the poor girls can barely move when they've got those things on. They need to have them on, no question about it - but couldn't theirs be more like mine? 

I wear a close-fitting vest that conforms to my body and is roughly half or a third of the thickness of theirs. It keeps me afloat just fine. Grace's, on the other hand, is designed as if they stuffed massive chunks of styrofoam in between nylon material and sewed some straps on it. When she's got it on she looks a bit like the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man. And because she can barely move when she's got it on, she cries, which doesn't exactly teach her to like being around water. 

Audrey's is in-between but is still bulky and rides up under her cheeks despite the strap that runs underneath her from the front of her torso to the back. She is none-too-pleased to wear hers either and is constantly trying to finagle her way out of having to put it on.

Is there room to innovate here? 

The future

When you're a dad with little daughters it's hard not to think about what's to come. Not next year, but in 10, 15 and then 20 years - adolescence, boyfriends, dating, wanting to stay out later, eventually going to parties, picking friends, doing well in school, making the right choices and (gasp) getting married.

It's hard on a dad. All he has to do is think about how he was as a boy and then a teen and then a twenty-something and it makes you want to lock your girls in a room until they are 30. No, 40. And if the guys come a-knocking you'll have your shotgun near the door.

When my bother got married I was impressed with the bravery of his soon-to-be father-in-law's speech. Near the end he held up a bottle of wine he had kept for many years that he had intended to open at his daughter's wedding. But instead he held up the bottle and said, "I was going to open this tonight but I've got a better idea. Let's save it for a christening."

There you have it - dads get past all this somehow. It probably helped that his daughter dated my brother for nearly a decade before Brian popped the question - he had lots of time to get used to it. But still - I'd imagine the discomfort never goes away completely. 

At least there's time between now and then for me to get ready.

Contractions

No, not the kind when you're having a baby. Word contractions.

Audrey's verbal skills have become so advanced that she's taken to contracting words that have never been contracted before. Her latest: "amn't." As in, "am not."

Daddy: "Audrey, are you tired?"

Audrey: "No, I amn't!"

It pops up regularly in conversation - we sometimes correct her but I kind of like it. It's one of only a very few words she gets wrong. 

I'm just glad she's not saying "ain't." It means the same thing as "amn't" but fortunately she realized how ridiculous it sounds.

Grace's grip and some hyperbole

Grace has an incredibly strong grip for someone who is 8 months removed from the womb. It's almost like she took Kung Fu classes before she appeared on the earth's stage.

Consider your hair, for example. If it's within her reach you might as well be prepared to wince in pain. She'll grab it and won't let go. Audrey has experienced it - initially she got mad but now she just endures. My wife - who has longer hair than Audrey - gets the hair treatment all the time which usually ends in a slow negotiation and pleading for Grace to let go.

I sleep with my shirt off (if you must know) and if she's crawling around in bed you'd better watch out - a fist full of chest hair (or better yet, chest skin) could be right around the corner. The pain is significant - you might as well have a scorpion crawling around in the covers.

If she gets ahold of a small object you're not keen on her having you'd better prepare for a fight - she'll keep it wrapped up in that little fist of hers. Prying it from her fingers is like trying to open a beer with your hand that isn't a twist off. (We don't use a bottle opener on her, of course.)

She's great at holding on to her pacifier though. And good at picking up Cheerios (although not so good at getting them into her mouth). She also seems to be getting close to holding a bottle but not quite there yet.

And of course when you hold her and she grabs your shirt and smiles you don't want her to let go. Mostly because it's special but also because she's not grabbing somewhere that hurts.

The old couple

Yesterday, Audrey to me as she observes a really old couple navigating a crosswalk in downtown Boulder: "Those people are really old, daddy. I think they'll pass away soon."

What can you say to that?