Father Of The Blog

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 09/27/07 

Kim’s Tree
Kim’s origins are rooted in Houston, her whole family lives there, except for Nana (Kim’s mom). Over due by three years for a visit, Cousin Morgan’s high school graduation was as good as any reason for us to fly down and check in on the family.

Kim booked five non-stop round trip tickets on southwest airlines for herself, Olivia, Hailey, Nana, me and thirteen pieces of luggage. Everything about the flight went smoothly, a quick take-off, hardly any turbulence and a flawless landing. It was Hailey’s first time on an airplane and she belted out a big “whoaaaa” during take off. The kiddos quietly occupied themselves by watching movies on my laptop, munching endlessly on a feed-bag of junk and crafting cards for all their relatives.

Olivia’s Carbon Footprint on Hailey
Departing from our airport at the curbside check Olivia held Hailey back from exploring into the five minute passenger drop off avenue, which is ridiculously close to the security kiosk, while Kim, Nana and I dug out our ID’s and e-conformations. Olivia involuntarily buddied-up with Hailey and they strode through the airport hand in hand on the way to the gate, rolling back packs in tow. At the security check, Olivia made sure Hailey took her shoes off, showed her how to place all her belonging in the plastic container and then how to send it through the scanner. She had Hailey line up for the metal detector and told her to go one at a time. One might think that Olivia has traveled via airplane a hundred plus times seeing her instructive behavior while jumping through all the hoops at the airport. The truth is, she has been on an airplane only two other times; recently to Utah with me for a ski trip and on our last family trip to Texas when she was ten months old.

Hailey has an adaptive learning style, partly kinesthetic and mostly visual. Sure, she has learned a few important rules from mom, dad and from an assortment of caregivers. Predominantly she parrots her older sister. For instance, at around eighteen months old, following Olivia’s lead, Hailey started using the potty. She didn’t hear one bit of direction on the finer points of using the potty from Kim nor me. She refused the training bucket thing, she wanted to be like her sister and use the Dora training seat on the ‘big’ toilet. She wouldn’t accept any help getting on the ‘big’ toilet, climbing on herself, even if it took her two or three attempts. And recently, through Olivia’s example; Hailey has ditched wearing night time pull-ups, refusing to put them on anymore. She is not even three, she can’t hold it throughout the night and she is unable to wake herself to use the potty. We try to rouse her before we go to sleep but she will not get out of bed. So, what do we do? You guessed it, we let her sleep in her own urine or until she calls for mommy or daddy to dry her off at three in the morning. Ok, that only happened once, then we bought a mattress pad and a plastic liner.

Houston Hobby
While Kim, Nana and I claimed our tower constructed from suitcases, Olivia showed Hailey how to sit on top of the luggage carousel and ride from one end of the baggage claim area to the other. Olivia helped Hailey on her inaugural journey via airplane without a fight and with little guidance from the adults. Is Olivia a good teacher or does she like to control Hailey? I’m not sure, but Hailey enjoys big sister’s constant instruction, care and attention.

Thirteen suitcases teetering high on a bag-cart slightly impaired my vision. Relying on sound recognition I blindly followed our entourage through Houston Hobby, squeezing by groups of people, through entryways, corridors and elevator doors, praying for the luggage not to topple.

We made it to the car rental shuttle depot without incident, the luggage held, next time I will pack a bungee cord to secure the bags to the cart. The shuttled bus snaked through the airport’s access roads as Olivia and Hailey bounced from seat to seat. A light drizzle started coming down as the shuttle pulled up to a light blue van. I had requested a Grand Caravan with two built-in five-point-harness child restraints, which was offered at no extra charge. I opened the van’s sliding door to find a standard bench seat, thanks Budget, not to worry I came prepared and quickly procured two booster seats, one from large rolling duffel and the other from my hockey bag. Thankfully the van had latch and with a snap we were sheltered from the rain and on our way to Aunt Linda’s and Uncle Earl Lee’s.

Day I
Aunt Linda and Uncle Earl Lee live in a gated community. Their home is condo-esque, with neighboring houses tightly squeezed together. The great thing about staying with Aunt Linda and Uncle Earle Lee is that they own the house directly across the quiet cul-de-sac from their home. So, we get our own place to spread out and enjoy.

After ‘moving in’ we were able to enjoy the rest of the day. Cousin Morgan brought us lunch and she played with the kiddos for a few hours. The isolated misting had blown over and the sun came out in time for us to check out the neighborhood pool until dinner. It was a long day, no naps, we tried to get the girls in bed early, eight o’clock, however there was a bit of confusion on exactly where Olivia and Hailey were going to sleep. First we tried the loft. They weren’t comfortable up there. I moved both their twin mattresses down to the living-room where they discovered that the loft was much better. Back up the stairs I obediently followed carrying both mattresses. We planned on a short story-time which ended-up running ten books long (every book they brought with them) and then they jumped from one mattress to the other for over an hour before finally crashing out after ten.

Day II
Grandpa
This is a tough subject. What do you say about the person who calls his daughter the day before her wedding to say that he can’t make it? Someone who has two granddaughters that he has not once come to visit. I could go on with a dirty laundry list but I must refrain. I don’t know the historic details between Grandpa and Nana (Kim’s mom), I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. I try not to pry, although when Kim was pregnant with Olivia, I attempted to dig a bit; Kim and I were looking through Nana’s dusty photo albums. The early 70’s pictures of Nana are out of character. Usually fun-loving and out-going these set of pictures represent a gloomy person. I questioned Kim about one particular unsmiling photo of Nana; pregnant with Kim, Nana’s arm loosely wrapped around Kim’s dad, the only photo I’ve seen of Nana and Grandpa together. Kim’s explanation, Nana was embarrassed by her adult braces.

Our first full day in Houston we had plans with grandpa, (minus Nana). I am cordial, respectful and optimistic when we are with Kim’s father. Warning flip-flop alert: He is actually an interesting person to hang around with. He’s comical, opinionated, a conversationalist, with a hint of chauvinism. He could be the perfect drinking or golfing buddy. He and his current girlfriend Helen took us to NASA’s Johnson Space Center. It was my idea. I’ve been to Houston one too many times without seeing what was to be the vehicle of Apollo 18, the Saturn V Rocket.

Space Center Houston
Space Center Houston is the visitors’ center at JSC and has a vibe of something between a spaceport hangar / mission control / science center. We were greeted by a massive floor to ceiling at least thirty feet tall play structure. ‘Kids Space Place’ enticed Olivia and Hailey, they spent close to an hour exploring the multilevel kid sized habit trail. They stopped at an air gun trench to launch plastic balls at unknown yet shocked and awed adversaries. They tested and re-tested a robotic arm controller several dozen times, and the three-story triple-cork-screw slide was so tempting Kim had to try it.

Next we checked out “Grossology” a (possibly traveling) hands-on exhibit trumpeting all that is slimy, stinky, and yucky. An interactive jeopardy-parodied quiz show was enlightening. Plenty of nasty bug stuff to examine. The cow intestinal tracking system was a bit too much information. It was the kind of stuff that makes a great conversation base with the kiddos.

We spent another hour hopping through the half dozen galleries of space related exhibits and then our little ladies became viciously hungry. Grandpa suggested a short ride down the road to Kemah Boardwalk a seaside amusement area with a couple good places to get lunch. Everyone was on board with that, however in that instant my dream of seeing the Saturn V disintegrated. So close and denied… Insert; ‘story of my life’ here.

Kemah Boardwalk
The kiddos hurried through lunch which was not much of a break for anyone then we headed to the funfair area. Olivia and Hailey experienced their first Farris Wheel ride and it was unbelievable. Labeled ‘Century Wheel’ although I don’t think it was 100 feet tall, the scene overlooked Clear Lake Shores off Galveston Bay. Olivia, Hailey and I were the only ones who opted to ride the wheel. It stopped at the top for a moment, the basket swayed with the wind and Olivia asked “Is that the Ocean down there?” How could I tell her it wasn’t?

Pump It Up
The day was far from over. We had bummed around the boardwalk for a little longer then took Grandpa and Helen home. Cousin Morgan reserved a free, hour long, private room for us at the Pump It Up where she was employed. They climbed, slid, jumped, and jousted non-stop for the entire hour. We like the bouncy type places and even I get into the action. Cousin Mikey challenged, eluded and embarrassed me on the mushroom topped jousting platform. The day was another action packed, no nap, up till ten o’clock night. I think Kim and I were asleep before the kiddos.

Day III
The Toy Donkey Whisperer(s)
Not a toy donkey, a miniature donkey, a real one. Kim’s cousin Karen owns one and a horse with a bit of land too. Our whirlwind tour of the Texas family continued with a visit to Karen’s place. Uncle Earl Lee and Cousin Morgan (Earl Lee is Morgan’s grandfather) came along with us. Olivia and Hailey have ridden on small carnival horses a couple times at local fairs so they were merely semi-excited to ride the miniature donkey. Although once we got to the stable and acquainted with the animals they livened-up.

Olivia and Hailey felt comfortable on the miniature donkey named ‘Itty Bitty Banker’ but both didn’t like being on the fully grown equine. I can’t blame them. The beast was huge and a bit ornery. I was glad that Uncle Earl Lee and Cousin Morgan were close-by to assist when the kiddos took their brief turns ‘riding’ the steed.

A cool swift moving rain shower passed over stranding us in the stable for a while. Itty Bitty Banker received the brushing of its life from Olivia and Hailey. They petted, preened and fussed over the mini donkey until a break in the rain gave us time to dash back to Karen’s office where we had parked. Itty Bitty Banker tailed Olivia and Hailey almost the whole length of the field and seemed sadden by the departure of its new friends.

Day IV
Graduation
Cousin Morgan’s high school class was close to five hundred students and she was selected by her peers to lead the state anthem during the opening ceremonies. The graduation proceeded swiftly, only two hours long, which was way past the kiddos stay in one place for too long limit. But they kept themselves busy by visiting all their relatives, first Chris and his wife Glenda, jumping to cousin Rob and his wife Lori, skipping to aunt Linda and uncle Earl Lee, bouncing to cousins Sherri and Michael (Morgan’s mom and dad), plowing through to cousin Karen and her mother Ann, bounding over to Nana and sneaking up on cousin Mikey.

After the graduation we all met for lunch. The restaurant we met at was a cross between petting zoo / play ground / eatery and it was fun. After our meal we went outside to play, pet the animals and see the peacocks (Hailey’s favorite animal). As soon as we settled into a huge sandbox it started to pour down rain. The sand pit was situated under a pavilion so we weren’t getting wet, but once again, we were stranded out in the rain. Sure the restaurant was a twenty yard dash away but we were dry and the kiddos were content with the situation so I put my arm around Kim and we waited it out.

That evening Morgan and her immediate family had one thousand parties to attend. We all went our separate ways for the night. Nana went to visit some old friends. Kim, the kiddos and I met-up with Grandpa, Helen and her youngest college aged daughter at the local Chucky Cheese for an evening of instant gratification.

Day V
Party
Cousin Morgan had a Family and Friends Graduation Party the following day and it was great visiting with everyone. Michael and Sheri opened up their home, providing yummy edibles. The family congregated out in the garage reminiscing, updating and gossiping about things I can’t pen. Olivia and Hailey nursed blue frosting cup cakes all party long leaving blue kiss marks on anyone willing to receive one.

Departure
It was sad to go, especially since we had to leave the party in its prime to catch our flight home. Morgan got upset when it was time to say goodbye to her little side kicks and I couldn’t thank uncle Earl Lee and aunt Linda enough for their gracious hospitality all while Kim sabotaged our tightly scheduled itinerary by lingering several ‘one last’ goodbyes to everyone.

Where was Nana? She stayed in bed sick at aunt Linda’s that day. Possibly a nasty stomach virus, she flew home the next day and didn’t feel well for a week after.

Vacation Termination
The ride to the airport rental car return depot was rainy and somber. The airport was surprisingly crowded but the kiddos didn’t act antsy. Olivia reminded Hailey to touch the outside of the plane near the entry hatch for good luck as we boarded. The typically bumpy ride back home from Houston was smooth.

Bubie (my mom) picked us up from the airport and was surprised by Nana’s absence. We were home and unpacked within an hour of touchdown. Olivia and Hailey were beat-up, speaking in tongues, spastically jabbing fists and feet at anything within a two foot radius, struggling to keep moving. No nap and insufficient sleep for five days, it was like watching the terminator in its final hour.

Our Little Secret
Is this a coincidence; our last three trips to Texas Kim has been (and currently is) pregnant? Kim and I sat on this secret the entire trip. Kim did an ept test the day before we left, she was one week late. A faded blue line appeared. She called her doctor to make an appointment which obviously she couldn’t see him until after our trip so we decided not to tell anyone. Besides, we like secrets.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 06/15/07 

I call Olivia and Hailey kiddos all the time, mostly not to confuse them and god forbid, accidentally call them by the wrong name. “How was school today kiddo?” or “Bed time kiddo, lights out.” or “Morning kiddo, how are ya?” you get the point. On Thursday’s the kiddos attend a half day at preschool, nine to three. Two months out of three, Olivia has swim lessons after preschool which takes place on the schools campus at an indoor pool. It’s nice because that gives Hailey and me some one-on-one time, we go to the park or play in the gymnasium at her school or go to the ice cream parlor for an hour before it is time to pick-up Olivia.

Hailey and I were picking up Olivia from swim class, we just had ice cream. We parked the car, traversed through the labyrinth of hallways at the main building of their school and waited for Olivia outside the women’s locker room, correction I waited outside the locker room and Hailey went in to tell her sister we were there to pick her up. As always, when Olivia and Hailey emerge from the locker room they competitively race through the building, ignore security door protocols, climb up two lengthy flights of stairs and zoom past the main entry membership check area, all of that, to be the first one to press the handicap door button which fascinates them. The door opens, must be magic.

Lately, they have been competing for everything, who can get into the car first, who can get dressed first, who can wash their hands before a meal first, who can push the button first, etc, etc etc. The winner gloats and the looser will either throw a fit or proclaim, “It is not a competition!” Good sportsmanship is a concept preached daily too them, yet to be learned.

Back to the story: The kiddos clambered into the car; I buckled Hailey in then walked to the other side of the Forester to strap Olivia in her seat. She reached into my front shirt pocket and seized my sunglasses. I let her play with ‘em, just a cheap pair. She slid my sunglasses on her face and in her deepest possible voice said “It’s dark out kiddos.” I couldn’t help from laughing hysterically. Olivia started cracking-up too and Hailey was a bit puzzled as to what was so funny. I asked Olivia to tell repeat what she had said for her sister and the cognation of laughter continued the whole drive home.

I had been mocked by my own daughter. It was creatively funny, she spontaneously crafted the phrase, however I have a bad feeling that my impromptu hysteria will only lead to further mockeries.

Kim cried the night before reclaiming her status of working mom. She wept for Elizabeth Rose; not leaving the baby for more than an hour in two months, the anticipation of a severed attachment caused deep emotional and physical pain. One may have thought by the amount of tear fall that it was more wrenching than Elizabeth’s forced removal via cesarean section.

Kim bellowed at the thought of going back to work after six months. A consistent employment she has maintained for over thirteen years. The company is one of the few fortune 500 companies in our city and there are many benefits for full time employees. The corporation itself is great however her old boss was someone that Kim could no longer work with. Luckily while Kim was away on her extended maternity leave the department she worked in jostled a few positions around and Kim was on the receiving end of a promotion and would be under new management. Had the position change not occurred this journal entry may have been about a new stay at home mom.

There were many other concerns Kim mulled over the night before returning to work. One of which, for monetary reasons, we had to adjust the amount of preschool our girls attend, from three full days and one half day to four half days, 9am to 3pm. This meant that on two of those days Kim would have to wake up at 4:30am so she could work an eight hour shift and then pick-up the children at two different preschools. Kim also worried that I would have problems juggling the morning routine solo and getting the kiddos at preschool on time. Rightfully so, as the first week’s adaptation to mommy morning absence resulted in missing the curb side drop off every single day. The following week I made the necessary modifications to get everyone to school on time; got out of bed a bit earlier, had breakfast waiting for the kiddos, had a bottle warmed for baby, woke the kiddos earlier and had their backpacks stocked and parked by the back door awaiting our departure.

Two weeks later, two working parents later, Kim’s tears have subsided, the bank account replenished (three of the six months that Kim was on maternity leave was unpaid) and the kiddos may even be happier spending less time at school and more time with mom and dad. Although I can’t speak for Elizabeth Rose. She seems to be doing well at day care. She eats the same, sleeps the same and poops the same, so it is hard to tell at this point whether she is innocuous to the change.

Elizabeth Rose is doing great. She consistently sleeps through the night. Smiles when she sees familiar faces. Makes bubbles with her tongue and lips. Kicks and swings for dangling objects. The tumultuous four hour of colic a day has subsided to a mere fifteen minute 9pm fussy phase. She has added 2 pounds and 3 inches of size. Her back is strong and she holds her head high at great lengths while sitting up watching her big sisters or possibly watching out for them.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 05/18/07 

Leopards of Botswana
Flipping through the April issue of National Geographic I came across an interesting photo journal of a baby leopard and her mother. In short, a journalist followed the mama and cub for thirteen months until the baby grew into adolescence and foraged off to live on her own. What captured my attention in this article was a two page photo spread of the mama saving her cub from a sixty foot fall. The two leopards were playing high in a tree, the cub slipped and the mama instinctively clutched the babe using her paws and jaws to save her baby. I like to believe that I have that same instinctive reflex. A fatherly-sixth-sense, I call it ‘daddar’ which comforts me, assuring me that no harm will come to my girls as long as I’m around to protect them.

Black and Blues
Kim bruises easily, a flick to her thigh easily turns into a deep tissue contusion. She is also somewhat clumsy and constantly bumping into things, she gets a lot of black-and-blue marks. She has talked to her doctor about the bruising problem and was told to take a one-a-day multivitamin which as far as we can tell hasn’t helped. My suggestion was for Kim to stop crashing into things. Unfortunately this genetic trait of bruising easily has been past down to Olivia and frequently new boo-boos mysteriously appear on her legs.

Scared
I’m no stranger to bumps and bruises and I’ve had my share of emergency room visits. Starting from as far back as memory serves to the present: A few stitches in my forehead when I was three caused by my older brothers who sent me down a flight of stairs while I was coasting on a riding toy. A concussion when I was seven or eight from slipping on driveway ice. At age eleven, a broken left ankle, results of an aggressive game of king-of-the-hill. At fourteen, while horseback riding, a broken right elbow, a fractured left ankle and a lot of scar tissue from being thrown off a falling horse (the horse slid on top of me pinning me between itself and a cinder-packed road; that was a messy one). Then I started playing hockey. Ten stitches above my left eye from a high-stick split me open. The receiving end of a vicious cross-check ejected two bottom teeth, one tooth I was able to save by jamming it back into my jaw and the other I had replaced with bridge. That happened a few months before my wedding. Lastly, a deflected puck almost completely removed the top third of my right ear which was sewn back on with close to forty stitches and yes I had a helmet on. The point here is I know my way around the ER.

Father Figures
Logging hundreds of hours, I’ve researched treatments for countless ailments that have afflicted Kim, Olivia, Hailey and I. A couple recent illnesses come to mind; strep throat and the stomach flu. I may not be able to prescribe antibiotics but I know plenty of soothing home remedies. Right after Olivia was born, Kim thought I was delusional when I bought a Medi-Scope to check eyes, ears, noses and throats, “Do you even know how to use that?” She questioned. Maybe not at the time but I’ve learned how to use it and what to look for.

I’m an expert at mending cuts, scrapes and abrasions. A month ago Kim frantically surprised me with this one while I was in the shower. “Hailey ripped her toe nail off!” The nail on her big toe was torn down the middle to the cuticle, (she likes to chew her toes). Half of the nail was hinged off exposing the matrix above the bone. I calmly cleaned Hailey’s big toe with warm soapy water, a dash of peroxide, and wrapped a Dora band-aid around the nail and toe. We repeated that regimen for several days checking for signs of infection and her nail healed fine.

I’ve studied anatomy for a decade and a half through anatomical drawing. For two years in college I drew nothing but skeletal, muscular, circulatory and nervous systems covering four semesters. After college, for several years, up until the day Olivia was born I frequented a figure drawing group twice a week at a local artist guild.

This journal entry is all over the place, I know. One more piece of back story to go, stick with me.

Prima
Olivia is a few months shy of completing her first year of dance lessons. Ballet, tap and gymnastics all rolled into one hour. Nana (Kim’s mom) takes her to class every Saturday morning. In the past year Olivia has evolved from klutzy to graceful. She glides through physical activities with presence of mind and body. Smoothly she reacts to obstacles conscience of the space around her.

Olivia’s Fall
A couple weeks ago Olivia, Hailey and I met my sister Rachel and her two kids Sadie and Louis at one of our favorite parks, Stacey Park. Recently all of the park’s rusting thirty-year-old playground equipment was removed in favor of a monstrous handicap accessible play compound with wide-grated ramps, towering platforms, a dozen static generating plastic slides, climbing walls, monkey bars, fireman poles, hands on musical toys, a vendor window and several bridges that connect it all together. This play structure has it all and it’s set on top of a soft shock absorbing rubber safety surface. The park also has an infant/toddler playground about twenty yards from the new play fortress.

We had been at the park for an hour and a half. Storm clouds filled the sky. Rach and Louis were treading on a walking path. Olivia and Sadie had just dashed away from the toddler area over to the new play fortress. Hailey and I were having an argument over a squatty plastic water bottle left on one of the benches fringed near the toddler playground. The dispute lasted for maybe five minutes and this is an excerpt from the conversation’s ending.
 
Hailey wanted the abandoned water bottle. “I want dis, now! now! now!” emphasizing each ‘now’ by stomping her foot.

“I understand, you want the bottle, but I’m sorry sweetie that is not our water bottle. If you are thirsty we can get a drink at the water fountain” My tenth plea. “Let’s go find Sissy and Sadie.”

“No! Dis! Dis! I want dis!” Obviously she wanted to inspect the midget bottle, maybe take it home as a memento.

“Put it down Hailey, that is not our…”

“No! I want dis!” She snapped back interrupting me while possessively holding the bottle at her side.

I was about to go Alec Baldwin on her when Rach strolled up. “Oh she can have that.”

“This! Is your bottle!?” I wanted to grab it from Hailey and spike it.

“Yea, she can have it. Go ahead Hailey.” And then Rach said, “Uh Oh! I hear Olivia, she must of fallen or something.”

Temporarily stunned, I couldn’t see Olivia, I could only hear her crying for me. Impulsively I followed the sound of her cries.

After the Fall
A kind-hearted mother witnessed Olivia fall, picked her up and was bringing her over to me. “She fell from that platform,” pointing to a four foot platform. “She landed on her back.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Is all I could say as I gingerly transferred Olivia from the mom to me. Her body was convulsing and she was crying so loudly that I couldn’t think.

“She stepped off backwards.” The considerate mom informed.

“How did she land?” I asked even though she just told me but I needed more details.

“She landed on her bottom and then her back.” Wincing as she explained the landing.

I thanked the sympathetic mother again, held Olivia tight while I skimmed the back of her head for any tender spots and slowly walked her back to the bench where Hailey was drinking from the fat little water bottle. I placed Olivia on the bench laying flat on her tummy, lifted up her shirt and looked for damage on her back. Not one bump, not one blotch, not even a scratch. I pulled her pants down to look at her tooshie. Nothing, no soreness, no lacerations, no redness. I sat down with her and she curled up in my lap. I smoothed her head, one for her comfort, two I was still checking for wounds. Her whimpering subsided. I asked her if anything was hurting inside. She said “no.” I shielded her eyes from the sun which was barley visible through the thick green storm clouds. It was enough light to check her eyes for dilation and her eyes adjusted to the sunlight. I had her stand up, raise her arms and close her eyes. She stood firm. I turned her around, pulled her shirt up and put my ear on her back. Her heart rate was probably half what mine was and her breathing sounded normal. I poked around at her lower back then spun her around, I pressed at her abdomen ribs and chest. Nothing felt tender.  At this point I started thinking we may not need to go to the emergency room. Last test, I walked to the other side of the toddler playground and had her run to me. She ran fine. We walked back to the bench where Hailey was still sipping on her prize and I asked Olivia again if anything was hurting her. She said “no.”

I turned to Rach, “I think she is ok. What do you think?”

“She’ll live” Rach said nonchalantly.

The smell of rain filled the air. It was time to go. I had to decide if we should go get some x-rays taken or head home. I chose home. We said bye to Rach, Lou and Sadie, then plodded into the car just as rain started to fall. Big heavy drops. Leaving the park I started thinking about Olivia’s fall and my negligence to be there when she needed me most. Where was my daddar? Why didn’t it sound an alert? Is it broken? Do I even have a daddar? My cell phone rang, it was Kim, and she sensed something was wrong, her mommy intuition was working.

“Olivia fell…” I stammered on for a few minutes about what happened ending with, “should I take her to the ER?”

“Take her home; give her an ice pack and keep you eye on her.” Kim assured me.

Over the next few days we watched Olivia closely. She showed no signs of injury, not one bruise, her body and ego intact. She was lucky. I was lucky. Even though everything turned out ok, the whole incident troubles me. Where was my fatherly intuition? How could I have been so easily distracted? Should I have taken Olivia to the emergency room? What if her landing was not as fortunate? The scenario haunts me. My parental confidence has been shattered.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com  04/11/07

Zadie (my dad) plans a family ski vacation every spring. This year’s destination, Park City, Utah as it has been for the past four or five years. Absent in ’05 and ’06, due to the fact that ski trips and infants/toddlers don’t mix well, this marked the end of my longest stint away from the slopes since the age of fourteen when I first started skiing. I was dying to get back to the mountains. Skiing is therapeutic; speeding downhill from the top of a picturesque mountain, the only immediate concern is concentrating on each and every turn to find the best path.

The first and only mountain vacation for Kim was back in 2000, a scenic trip to Sun Valley Idaho’s Bald Mountain. By nature Kim is a beach bum and dislikes cold weather, but she trudged along with an open mind. Her first day she had a ski lesson on the beginner hill, she learned how to turn and stop, so I figured she could handle the easiest green run on the second day. I was wrong. We rode up two different quad-chair lifts to the summit, around 9000 feet and started down a gentle green ‘slow zone’ run. Right at the start of our slothful decent, Kim face-planted, going down harder than a giant sack of Idaho spuds and twisted her knee in the process. Quickly I slid over to her and I knew there was only one way she was going to get down the mountain. I drove her skis into the snow creating an upright criss-cross to alert ski patrol and within minutes Kim was assessed then carefully placed inside a safety sled. The ski patrol guy swiftly towed her down the remainder of the mountain, I skied close behind. She was finished skiing that day and perhaps forever. At the base lodge she found a soft arm chair and propped her twisted knee up near a raging fire where it was warm and relaxing.

I really wanted to go skiing this year. Kim did not. Hailey is still a bit too reckless for a trip to the mountains however Olivia is at the perfect age to learn how to ski. So, with Kim’s consent, I booked a flight for Olivia and me, planning a five night stay from Wednesday to the following Monday.

We flew Delta. I hate Delta. No pre boarding. No pre boarding? No wings for kids. Aside from that, I had called Delta’s customer service right after I purchased the tickets to find out if Olivia needed a seat restraint and the representative told me that she would need one. I was confused because I have heard different things about flying with children from other parents. I even looked the subject up on FAA’s website which was more confusing. Under two years (lap babies) no ticket required, over forty-four pounds no restraint necessary, between twenty and forty-four pounds was this grey area which I assumed would be left up to the airline to determine. So, at ten-thirty the night before the trip, Kim called Delta once again, (I was still packing) and the customer service rep told her that Olivia would not need a seat restraint.

Olivia has been on an airplane once before when she was ten months old, so flying was sort of a new experience for her. I could tell she was anxious to fly when she exclaimed “got to hurry dad” as I was forced to open my luggage and transfer three pounds of weight from one bag to another at the curbside check. She skipped along next to me through the busy airport rolling her princess backpack-carryon. She got a bit antsy waiting in the long line at the security check. “Why do we have to take our shoes off?” she asked. I told her that it was so all the travelers would feel safer and she gave me her confused ‘we’ll talk about that later’ look and I was glad she didn’t question the tight security any further. She was so excited when we got to the gate. I said, “Look there’s our plane.” She rushed to the window and pressed her face flat against the glass to see it.

Since there was no pre-boarding, Olivia and I waited until all the other passengers boarded. I figured, why rush to confine her to a seat for the three hour flight? We waited until the final boarding call was made to disembark. As we were walking through the jetway it started to shutter and then recoiled a bit away from the entrance to the airplane. It scared Olivia and she jumped into my arms, “I don’t want to go! I don’t want to get on the plane! I want to go home!”

I calmed her as best I could inside the jetway which bounced back to the entrance of the plane. “You’re scared and that’s ok sweetie.” I said something like that, “I always touch the side of the plane for good luck sweetie, try that it will make you feel better.” That statement was accurate because it is my personal preflight superstition. I place my palm on the outside of the plane as I enter. A connection between me and an uncertain faith in technology. By this time the characteristically pretty but unfriendly attendant was giving us the eye. I slowly proceeded through the entrance of the plane lugging my backpack, her backpack, my laptop and Olivia who was balling so loudly that the passengers at the back of the eighty-seat airplane were giving me sympathy looks. As we turned down the isle ready to make our way to the seats Olivia screamed, “Wait! I want to touch the plane!” And she did, just before the evil-eye stewardess closed the hatch.

After that, Olivia was great and enjoyed the flight without any complaints. A steady stream of lolly-pops, cherry licorice, computer games, markers, crayons, books and movies on my laptop kept her busy. “Look dad, everything is getting bigger again,” she said as we approached for a landing.

We took a forty-five minute shuttle ride from the airport to the lodge. Olivia’s first shuttle bus. She enjoyed the freedom of a booster seat rather than the five-point harness car seat. I was hoping she would take a little siesta during the shuttle however she was entranced by the mountain scenery and occupied in devouring half a pound of cherry licorice.

Zadie, my older brother Joe, his kids Nathan (sixteen) and Shaina (thirteen) flew in the day previous to our arrival. When we got to the lodge they were out skiing, so Olivia and I took a quick nap, the last nap for the remainder of the vacation.

Later that afternoon we took a bus from the lodge to Park City’s historic Main Street. Olivia’s first bus ride. She loved the bus, she could jump from seat to seat and she could pull the cord to alert the driver when to stop. Total freedom mixed with control. To Olivia’s delight, we ended up using the bus quite a bit on our vacation. Main Street is charmingly lined with t-shirt shops, art galleries, pro shops, spas and restaurants. I was specifically looking for a powder jacket and new gloves for Olivia which I was unsuccessful in finding. But I did rent some skis and boots for myself as well as a helmet for Olivia.

My older sister Rachel and her husband Alan along with their kids Louis (six) and Sadie (four) arrived late that Wednesday night. Olivia and I were already asleep when they checked in. The next day when we woke up, Olivia was excited to see Sadie and they fused together for the rest of the vacation. That morning we did more shopping and I found Olivia a new jacket and ski pants but no new gloves. She had to squeeze into her old ones which she could care less about. After lunch we went ice skating. Another first for Olivia. Unfortunately, she had some troubles, as I was renting my skates; she attempted to put her skates on by herself. Somehow she flipped over backward falling off the bench that she was sitting on and hit the back of her head hard on the cement floor. She cried for a while, I got her an ice pack, but when Sadie started skating Olivia collected herself and wanted to get on the ice. I had to try a few different skates on her because the figure skates were too narrow and she ended up in hockey skates which are not ideal for learning how to ice skate. She had a hard time just standing up on the ice and after one frustrating trip around the olympic-sized rink she was ready for a break. I got her a little bag of fruit snacks from a vending machine and she watched from the stands. Lou was also having difficulties keeping his feet underneath him and he really got fumed watching Sadie, his little sister, doing exceptionally well. It was also Sadie’s first time on skates and she did amazing, a natural. She was zooming all over the ice pretending to be a Disney Princess on ice. After her snack, Olivia wanted to lace-up her skates and give the ice another go and she did well the second time around. I was so proud of her.

Late Thursday night my other older brother Sam and his youngest daughter Samantha (fifteen) joined the vacation. They didn’t make it in until past midnight and they were up and out the door before anyone even woke up the next morning.

Finally, on Friday we skied. We signed-up Lou, Sadie and Olivia for ski school. I wanted to make sure Olivia and Sadie got to be in the same class so I lied and said that Olivia was four years old. Actually that turned out to be a good thing because the three year old kids only got to go out skiing once in the morning for an hour as opposed to the four year olds who got to ski twice accumulating almost three hours of ski time. Another first for Olivia, skiing. They all had such a great time at ski school that we signed them up the following day as well.

Later that afternoon we hit the lodge’s outdoor heated pool and hot tub. There were a ton of other kids and parents poolside and some of the kids got a bit wound up running and diving ignoring the clearly painted warnings of no diving and no running. Their parents were oblivious or indifferent on vacation from parenting as well as from their normal lives. So of course Olivia wanted to run and dive too. Some rules are bendable but pool safety is high on my must-be-a-smart-parent list so I had to say something to Olivia about following the rules and this was another first for Olivia, she responded with “well everyone else is doing it.” A mantra I had used many times throughout my own childhood. However I stood firm, “you follow the rules or no swimming.” She tested me and we ended up having to leave the pool.

The two days that I skied, the conditions were abysmal. Mostly slush, the temperature on the mountain was in the fifties and by noon it was like skiing in Elmer’s. I skied like a chump too, taking no real risks, I kept envisioning myself getting hurt, ending up in a body cast and unable to take care of Olivia. So I worked on mechanics and told myself I needed to fine tune my form.

Olivia wanted to go back to ski school a third time. If the ski conditions would have been better I may have let her. But it was our last day of vacation and I wanted to spend the day with her. We ended up driving the Dodge Caravan that Joe rented into Salt Lake to visit the zoo. Rach and Sadie came along too and it ended up being the perfect day to go to a zoo, sunny and in the seventies. Salt Lake’s Hogle zoo is just the right size, we walked it in about three hours and there were plenty of animals to watch. One surprise, a Red Panda, it looked like a cross between a raccoon and a fox with a beautiful fire red coat. The map for the zoo was coherent enough that Olivia could follow it and I was stunned by her ability to conceptualize our movements though the park. She even plotted our course by which animals she and Sadie wanted to see.

The zoo experience ended with an hour long playground romp at Discovery Land, a corner of the zoo dedicated to children. There were a few slick hands-on type things, a bat cave, a snake slide, giant eggs that Olivia and Sadie could hatch from and some other play apparati. It was a great place to parent watch. Unlike local parks where most parents are stereotypically the same, this play area undoubtedly attracted all sorts. I couldn’t help myself from analytically observing other parents. For instance, a morbidly obese father who’s son (five or six) was passionately pretending to be eaten by an alligator sculpture. The boy was screaming and animating himself with exuberance only to be rebuked by his father for being to loud. The large stationary dad, unable to lift himself off the bench he was attached too, yelling from across the playground at his son to be quiet. Another thing I thought was funny; a curvy mom had her daughter on a leash. In itself not hilarious because I seriously considered one of those for Hailey, but this poor little two year old was strapped to her mother inside an enclosed play area while she was actively climbing, running, sliding, the mom being pulled along while holding a conversation on her cell phone. The parent observations were much more intriguing than watching the animals.

We departed early the next morning. Our shuttle picked us up at seven to take us to the airport. Olivia made her way though the airport like a seasoned traveler. I have yet another complaint about Delta. They had everyone board the airplane and then discovered a problem with the lavatories. We sat on the plane for over an hour before the problem was fixed and then it took an additional forty-five minutes to taxi into position for takeoff. The three hour flight turned into five and I only had about four hours worth of activities for Olivia to occupy herself with. She was getting extremely fidgety the last half hour. Pushing all the buttons, playing with the stow-away tray, kicking the seat in front of her standing in her seat staring at the passengers behind us and she kept getting up to use the restroom. Tiny airplane lavatories are definitely not designed for parent-child uses and both bathrooms were completely disgusting even by an old fraternity boy standard. Seriously, these things resembled port-a-potties at a drunken Oktoberfest.

One more spit at Delta, when Olivia’s brand new pink polka-dot bag came off the luggage carrousel I noticed that one of the plastic pieces which aligns the pull-along handle had been severed; now the bag wobbles and rolls lopsided.

The night we got home Olivia was completely exhausted and she fell asleep before eight o’clock in her bedroom on the hardwood floor. It took her a couple days to catch-up on the lack of sleep during our trip. Coincidently, the insufficient rest had manifested itself while we were in Park City in the shape of night terrors. Thankfully, the midnight screaming, sobbing and convulsing disappeared once we got home.

Olivia had an adventuresome trip chocked full with many first time experiences. There was one big first time for me as well and that was traveling solo with a child in tow. Transforming me from nonchalant explorer into must bring the wipes into the airplane lavatory and scour it clean. Changing me from ‘Uncle Hocky has a Death Wish’ a song my nieces and nephew made up years ago regarding my audacious skiing style, into better not go down that blue (intermediate) run, may get hurt. The other big first for me was being away from Hailey for more than a day. I missed Hailey and Kim. The entire time we were in Park City I felt that something was missing and even while preoccupied with all the fun and exciting activities it was not enough to fill that emptiness.

“10 Secrets Every Father Should Know” Is the sub title of this book. Head’s up, there is no outline for the 10 secrets. However there are 10 chapters in the book, so I assume those are the 10 secrets that the sub title refers too. The beginning of the book is packed full of statistics pertaining to early childhood/teen depression, sexual activity, drug use, alcohol usage, and media influence, all of which are constantly marketed to our daughters. The following information is a reference to the astoundingly healthy effects that daughters with a close relationship to their fathers have on both the child and the parent. Great news for all the good dads out there who appreciate, initiate and carve out time to spend with the family.

The 10 secrets, err, chapters are:
“You are the most important man in her life” My head got big reading this.
“She needs a hero” Yes, my girls need someone to look up too, I agree and that hero should be me.
“You are her first love” I can see that with my girls, sure.
“Teach her humility” The author doesn’t specifically say how to do this (or give specific instruction on anything in the book for that matter), I do think that this a good piece of advice for keeping my girls grounded and may help them to realize that they are not entitled to everything and anything.
“Protect her and defend her” This one is kind of obvious.
“Pragmatism and grit: Two of your greatest assets” Ok this was the best line from the book ‘…there are two types of women in the world: princesses and pioneer women.’ I agree with that and this was possibly the most influential chapter in the book.
“Be the man you want her to marry” Model what you hope she will look for in a husband, good recommendation.
“Teach her who god is” The book just took a huge right turn as the author specifically sites the Judeo-Christian tradition and ostracizes half the world. Being of Jewish background I can relate to the types of values she is talking about, however Dr. Meeker alienates every other religion with her narrow-minded statements.
“Teach her to fight” I like this secret, but it is not about signing young girls up for classes at the local Tea Kwan Do studio, this is regarding finding a balance between feelings, reason and will.
“Keep her connected” This one is about spending quality one-on-on time with each other and creating powerful memories. Good advice.

The author of the book is well qualified (twenty years) in pediatric medicine and makes references to counseling many families.  She sites compelling eye-opening facts and makes persuasive arguments for the importance of influential fathers. One thing the author is not; believable. Doctor Meeker supports detailed information with fabricated Chicken Soup-ish stories from pseudo (or possibly a culmination of) patients. Each chapter contains one or two of these transparent page filler tales. I found these crumbs of fiction to be a distraction from the guts of the message and discredits the author’s authority. What kind of doctor brazenly severs their patient’s confidentiality? The scant fragments of sincerity were imbedded within the commentary from the author’s personal relationships with her father and husband.

My suggestion, check the book out at the local library like I did and skip the fluff because this book does have some great points validating the importance of fathers and the profound effects we have on our daughters.

Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters by Meg Meeker, M.D.
Published by Regnery Publishing, Inc.
Copyright 2006

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 04/01/07 

Three months straight, Olivia repetitiously pleaded for a pair of her own scissors. Having tons of practice cutting at preschool and various activity centers she was definitely ready. But there was one little problem, Kim and I were concerned that Hailey’s lack of sheering dexterity combined with her strong determined nature could be a dangerous combination. At what point do you sacrifice the learning experience of an older child while protecting the younger sibling from possible physical harm or mental anguish? We figured that close supervision would be the key, so Kim bought two identical training scissors and surprised the girls.

For the past few months Olivia has been methodically producing new and exciting artwork. She has evolved into a multi-media genius. Experimenting with papers, ribbons, string, yarn, cloth, anything clipable, also playing with several different tacking mediums, glue stick, tape, glitter glue, paints, hot glue gun (with my assistance), skillfully layering objects upon object. Her insatiable desire to create supersedes my own and I have a fine arts degree.

As predicted, Hailey was frustrated from the first cut. She had trouble holding the scissors. Her thumb ending up loosely in the big hole, her fingers crammed into the little hole, palms too small to open the scissors all the way and instead of trimming she’d end up tearing. Forget about explaining the correct way of holding and snipping to my independent thinker/doer, any assistance from me or Kim was (is) strictly prohibited. A few weeks of trial and error ensued and eventually she was able to make a few clean cuts. I was proud of her cut-above achievement and congratulated her, “You did it! Good job sweetie!” with high-fives, opposite her hand holding the scissors, obviously.

After a couple months of storing the scissors on a high shelf in Olivia’s closet we decided it was ok to keep them in the accessible-anytime craft box. This wasn’t a noticeable problem until Olivia’s slashing experimentation expanded from the limitation of her craft table or easel to any object she deemed detachable. I have caught her trimming the yarn-like hair from her groovy girl doll, by explanation, needed the hair out of her eyes. I also have found many of her little two-piece doll-house toys freed from the strings that hold them together, for instance, a miniature nightstand with half a string and a missing tiny hair brush or a bathtub figurine now minus a tiny washcloth. Also the doodle etch a sketch toy is now missing the etching pen. An alphabet caterpillar (I think that’s what it is) pull-along toy needed string repair. A wear around your neck toy drum is no longer wearable. On day she diligently chopped-up half of a fat neon green skein of yarn into tiny pieces, she was making grass. Do I ever stop her from what some may think is destruction? No. I say things like “I love your lawn, you manicured it so nicely.”

Am I negligent in teaching her what is right and wrong or am I allowing creative freedoms? All the lost or detached toys are irrelevant why not let her learn about the value of her possessions though making a few inconsequential mistakes. Until she finds my shoe laces or worse, my skates, I won’t keep her tied down. If I did, she’d probably cut herself free anyway.

We have closed on our old house. Almost ten years packed with many great memories wrapped-up and signed away within an hour at a sterile title office. I proposed to Kim at that old house. It was Thanksgiving weekend 2000: Mimi, then a mangy-just-picked-up-from-the-pound puppy was wearing a new purple collar and hanging from the collar was a heart shaped specially engraved dog-tag that read “Will you marry me?” Hence the dogs name Mary Mimi. Mimi for short. Kim keeps the tag on her key chain. The words are scratched and worn with usage and time, barely legible anymore.

Kim and I brought our little darling daughters home from the hospital after their births to that old house. Olivia and Hailey grew from infants into rambunctious preschoolers, they filled all the empty space with toys, clothes, shoes, art projects, kid-knacks, hair and countless other accessories, inflating that old house until Elizabeth Rose came along and burst the brick and mortar at the seams.

It was time to move on. Our new house, which happens to be the house I grew up in, was too good to pass up. On a quiet cul-de-sac, a large fenced-in back yard, a finished basement with a playroom and an elementary school within walking distance. The kiddos were familiar with the house prior to us moving in which helped with the transition. They have adjusted to the move well and only make reference to our old place on the way to and from their preschool. Daily they request a drive by and it is not far out of the way, so I always oblige them. We make note if our old neighbors are home and we fall silent as I slowly creep by the old house, ghosts of ourselves wave too us as we pass by.

Olivia Tests My Authority

This past Tuesday felt like an old ‘daddy day.’ Kim had some running around to do so I was home all day with the kiddos. Maybe she did that to prep me for the real deal coming up next week when she goes back to work. Olivia, Hailey and I had plans to go swimming after rest-time when Kim got home from her errands. Olivia and Hailey spent quiet-time bouncing off the walls in their room, normal for them. Around three thirty, I told them to start getting ready to go to the pool, Kim was still out. While they were getting their swim-suits on, I was getting all the swim gear gathered up and organizing it all on the kitchen counter. Towels from their bedroom closet, check. Extra undies from their shared dresser, check. A couple Barbie dolls for water rescue missions from their bedroom floor, check. My gym bag, which may as well be called the family swimming bag, from the hall closet, check. Lastly, goggles from their backpacks and this is when the problem started.

Me: “Olivia where are your goggles?” Shouting from the living room.

Olivia: “I duno!” Shouting back from her bedroom.

Me: “Well, they are not in your backpack!”

Olivia: “I want them! Get them!”

Me: “Well, sweetie, if they are not in your backpack then I don’t know where they are!”

Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?!” Swimsuit underneath her clothes and ready to go, she runs into the living room to inspect her backpack.

Me: “Your goggles are your responsibility Honey.”

Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?!” Rooting through her backpack.

Me: “It’s ok. Maybe you left them at the pool during your swim lesson? We will check when we get there Honey.”

Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?! Hailey took them!”

Me: “No sweetie, those are Hailey’s, I just took them out of her bag.” She looks through her backpack again and I place Hailey’s goggles next to the gym bag on the kitchen counter and go into my bedroom to get ready.

Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?! Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?! Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?! Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?! Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?! Olivia: “I want them! Where are they?!”… About five minutes of this.

Me: “We will look for them at the pool Honey!” Hiding from my bed room.

Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!”… Five more minutes.

Me: “I understand, you want your goggles, we will check at the pool sweetie.” I was almost ready just had to pack-up the bag.

Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” Olivia: “I want them! I want them! I want them!” … Five more minutes

Me: “Olivia! I know your upset that your goggles are missing we will look for them at the pool.”

Olivia: “I want them right now! Where are they?! I want them now!”

Me: “Olivia! If you ask me one more time about your missing goggles…I am not taking you swimming!” The ultimatum slipped out. I really didn’t want to say that, but I did.

Hailey: “And me daddy?”

Me: “You can still go Hailey. And so can Sissy. If she stops complaining about her misplaced goggles.” The room was silent for about ten seconds.

Olivia: “But I want my goggles.”

Me: “That’s it Olivia, you are not going swimming.”

Olivia: “But I want to go swimming!” Sobbing.

Me: “I asked you not to mention your missing goggles and you just did. No. No swimming!”

Olivia: “But I want to go swimming!” Sobbing, knees buckle and she falls to the ground.

Hailey: “And me daddy?”

Me: “Just me and you Hailey.”

Olivia: “But I want to go swimming too! I want to go!”

Me: “No, You are not going swimming!” I couldn’t back down now. I start to pack the swim gear into the gym bag and noticed that Hailey’s goggles are not where I had left them.

Me: “Where? What? Hailey now where are your goggles?” I tear apart the gym bag and head into the living room to double check the backpacks. I start to think I am losing my mind.

Hailey: “Here they are!” She pulls the goggles out of the trash can. Banana peelings cling to the pink Speedo’s

Me: “Olivia! Did you put those in the trash!?” She didn’t answer and I didn’t really need to ask. Flash backs of my dad lashing me with a thick leather belt enter my head.

Me: “That was a mistake! Now you’re in timeout.” I escort her to the designated timeout spot. “You’re time out for trashing your sisters’ goggles!” I let her sit for a few minutes as I assure Hailey that the two of us will be going swimming.

Me: “Why were you in timeout?” Kneeling down inches from Olivia.

Olivia: “I threw Hailey’s goggles in the trash.” Sniffling.

Me: “Why did you do that?”

Olivia: “I duno” She honestly didn’t.

Me: “Well sweetie, I think that you were so upset that you couldn’t find your goggles that you didn’t want Hailey to have hers either.”

Olivia: “Mmm Hmm”

Me: “Well sweetie, that was a mistake and I think Hailey would feel better about her dirty goggles if you apologized.”

Olivia: “Sorry Hailey.”

Me: “Look her in the face when you say that.”

Olivia: “Sorry Hailey.”

I consoled Olivia until Kim got home, replaying the scenario multiple times while offering better solutions to her mistakes but never mentioned my mistake which was an unfair punishment for her extreme emotional outburst and normal for a kid her age. She was upset that she lost her goggles and even though I let her know that we would look for them where she most likely had left them I couldn’t let her grieve completely. Maybe she just needed another few minutes to vent. Although once I told her that she couldn’t go swimming, had I reversed my decision, I would have made two mistakes. My authority is absolute and must always be. Not for me but for my girls.

Side Note: The lost goggles were not in the pool’s lost and found bin, but the very next day when arriving at preschool, the admin assistant, whom runs the school’s office, let me know that her daughter had come home with Olivia’s goggles.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 03/19/07 

Olivia woke up Wednesday with a crippling daddy day hangover. Slowly she roused, hands shielding her eyes from the meager dawns light, “Is today a school day?”

“Yes sweetie. Today is a school day.”

“I don’t want to go to school today… I don’t feel well… I’m sick…” She gasped out a pathetic cough. “My ear hurts…” Pointing to her left ear. “I want to go see doctor Bullivant…” I bargained her out of bed, leading her to believe that if Roz (Olivia’s preschool teacher) thought she was sick then I would take her to the doctor.

Just last week Hailey stayed home from school for a few days with a nasty virus and I was suspecting Olivia was attempting to test how she may be able to reap the benefits of falsifying an illness. During the blur of activity that involves readying Olivia and Hailey for and getting to preschool I asked Olivia if her ear was feeling better. She said that it still hurt. I asked her which ear was bothering her. She pointed to her right ear.

There was this one time, I was six or seven, I tried to convince my mother that an old scar on my hand was really a debilitating rash and there was no way I could go to school that day. My mom smartly didn’t buy it and callously sent me to school. She had a lot of experience debunking fake sicknesses before I came along. (I’m the youngest of four). Through the years I had to become increasingly creative when attempting a fake sickness. One bit was rubbing the old fashioned mercury filled thermometer on my pants to raise the temp. My mom would feel my cool forehead and say “hmm, one hundred and six? I’m surprised you’re not dead. Now get to school.” By the time I got to high school I would research medical journals for believable illnesses and sickly act out all the symptoms. “Hmm, bacterial meningitis you say?” My mom never fell for any of it.

Back to Olivia’s pseudo ear ache. When we arrived at the pumpkin room, (Olivia’s classroom), with a wink I explained to Roz that Olivia had woke up feeling ill. Roz assured Olivia that after breakfast she would send her to the school nurse. I told Olivia that I would come pick her up if the nurse thought a doctor visit was necessary. I didn’t hear from the nurse that day and when I got home from work that evening I asked Olivia how she was feeling. She answered, “fine,” her face wearing the expression of ‘why are you asking me that?’

***

The night previous to Olivia’s sickness charade, Bubie (my mom) came over for dinner and story-time. It has become somewhat of a Tuesday night ritual when Bubie is home from volunteer work in Israel. This particular night Hailey was more flamboyant than ever. She danced and ran circles around the house, naked of course, showing off for Bubie. “Watch dis (this) Bubie!” As she dove off the couch.
During dinner my mom remarked that Hailey must be feeling better from the virus that kept her home from school for a few days last week. Before Bubie could finish her statement, Hailey started wailing, “my mouth!…it hurts!”

Bubie instantly sympathized with Hailey, “Oh poor thing, her throat must be a little soar still.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “the girl who cries wolf.”

As those words were leaving my mouth, seemingly rehearsed, Hailey tilted her head back and howled out a piercing full moon wolf cry, “Auow, auow, auoooow.”

I can handle the world’s deceptions, I have too many years experience with that. Yet, from my own children? Sure, Olivia and Hailey may still be figuring out the difference between fact and fiction, testing their creative boundaries, perfecting guile and warping their own creativity. I understand that, for now.