Day five - slow news day

Dear Alex had another good day today, but for a two-year-old, there's really not much to it. She spent the morning happily recreating the New York Holiday traffic jam outside the window (pictures 1, 2 ), with her fleet of taxis and Thomas, then went to play gym and a play date that daddy skipped. "Have a good time, I'll see you later" - To Which Dear Alex replied "Daddy stay here!" - Indeed I do, and I will. The challenge isn't in the day-to-day stuff, especially with Nanny J around to absorb some of the the time-suck of reading, and reading and reading the same books over and over again (while Dear Alex reads her own book or two) and taking her outside and walking and walking - all things that I've done too, and dearly enjoy. It's that moment of silence and responsibility that happens the moment we see Nanny J downstairs and into the cold night. This evening, she decided to be fire-girl (picture 3) for a while, so what the heck. I'm glad she's still into that costume. It's kind of fun. Note the pink rain boots - she put them on herself. There was some talk of a visit from, and dinner with Grammy n' George, but it ended up being George who showed up for a while to be entertained by Dear Alex, We spent a fair amount of time sitting on the couch, and sitting in her room, just watching Dear Alex play. Her imagination, and her narratives about what she's doing are fascinating to watch. (Note to self: I think Tom is still in the microwave in the play kitchen - "don't get sick Thomas!") The kid's a wonder. We closed on a high note with Dear Alex doing an astonishing interpretive dance to "These are a few of my favorite things" ( I'm feeling we may have a little too much Julie Andrews going on...) , although she knows the words, she didn't sing for George. All in all, though, a good time was had by all - but we're going to have to do some work to put bedtime back where it belongs...

Day four - the whining

Not Dear Alex, but daddy: Mommy come home!
Today was one of those perfectly forlorn, dreary mid-December days - cold, ended with spitting rain, not the sort of days that make for happiness and light, though Dear Alex was perfectly wonderful this morning, and we seem to have developed a routine that works for us pretty well. Once she's well and truly up, I go in and change her diaper and put her back in the crib, saying "daddy will be right back." Then I go finish making coffee and fetching the mandatory cup o' milk, and loiter in the kitchen a little bit to see how long it takes her to notice that I'm gone. Why? Because I can stay next to the baby monitor and listen to her talk to her awesome menagerie of crib-mates - It's pretty amazing. She doesn't make up stories so much as play back the things BW and I say to her, plus a few off-the-wall free association kind of things re-combined with bits of songs and books she's long since memorized. It's too random and stream of consciousness to even try to write down, but it involves Honey bunny, knuffle bunny, Tom, (her new name for Thomas the tank engine) Brother and Sister. "Watch out Sister, be careful Tom oooh haaa raindrops on roses round and round Brother!" Fun stuff.

In other news:
Today was a playdate day - So, two two-year-olds, two nannys from Trinidad, and two cats. The craziness I described the other day was multiplied exponentially - I was outnumbered six to one. All I could do was leave, as there was no way anything else was going to get done around the house for the rest of the day. The good news is that (as before) it all got cleaned up, and no one got hurt.

Dear Alex had her first bath since last Friday (Picture 1 - above) - after days of boycott, she actually said to me tonight "Bath daddy..." I was more than happy to oblige. That's her "smile for the camera" smile. She's getting better at it, I think. (Picture 2) We had a pretty good time picking out PJs, and hanging out with Brother and Sister, along with Tom and Honey and Knuffle - they seem to be back in rotation - we had a fun conversation about the nature of the two of them, who is who, and what they mean. She's certainly consistent with who's brother and who's sister, but she's not letting on about the why. (Picture 3 - above - from the archives
) I don't know why, but I'm fascinated by her relationship with Brother and Sister - it comes and goes, but it's consistent in it's tone and manner.

For a variety of reasons, today wasn't the best of days, but it does have one redeeming feature - we're one day closer to Beautiful Wifes' return.

Day three - wish I were there

I could be talking about how much I wish I were in Vancouver with Beautiful wife, but that really goes without saying. Today was one of those dreary spitting rain generic mid-winter days, full of the knowledge that there's surely many more like this to come- grey, rain, cold, grey.
The real wish is that I could somehow get into the mind of Dear Alex, and tease out the threads of her amazing imagination. The free-association connections she makes and the other-worldly dimensions of her creativity alternately baffle, and inspire me. Even though Nanny J. returned today, I still spent a lot of time playing with and wondering at Dear Alex's playtime fun.
This morning started at the usual and merciful 8am, giving me time to actually be awake and aware at the good-morning-milk-coffee-diaper-change ritual. Dear Alex was dressed and ready to go for her ballet class, (picture 1 - yes, there's a tu-tu under that top) which unfortunately was called due to the fact the she was the only one that showed up - apparently there's something (conjunctivitis?) going around. So home she came, and spent the next hour or so chasing the cats around the house (picture 2 - under the table, in hot pursuit of Gracie). Somewhere along the line Dear Alex noticed te Ella-bella pie-eye didn't have a tail, so she decided to give her one - made from a sticker from a book that Grammy Bobbi gave her. It was fantastic to watch, and it's fortunate that neither of the cats are inclined to scratch. After Ella-bella pie-eye got tired of being chased while having stickers applied to her ass and departed the scene, Dear Alex decided that Gracie needed a new tail, so took up the chase with her - All of this accompianied by Alex repeating "here's a tail, here's a tail, here's a tail".
What prompted this, I have no idea, but it sure was fun to watch.
After tormenting the cats (in the nicest possible way), it was time to empty out the footstool, play all of the musical instruments contained therein - including something I've never heard before: A drum solo of the ABC song, complete from A to Z completely unprompted, uncoached, right down to the extended "meeeeee" at the end (picture 3 - banging atonally away). Nanny J was there, I have a witness.
Up next, (picture 4) Dear Alex Played 'Alex-in-the-box' for a while, talking to herself about "in here-out here up-down-out" Fun and all, but then it was naptime. To wrap this up, Dear Alex got a new friend today - a Thomas the Tank Engine to go with her 'trainshow', that she immediately fell in love with - inventing an elaborate stories involving the toy and conflating it with the few Thomas books she has, and other odd bits of things - when the thing came off the tracks she said "don't get sick Thomas, it's okay" (Picture 5 - Dear Alex comforting Thomas the Tank Engine) - then we made a tunnel for Thomas to sleep in, so as not to add yet another thing to her already over-crowded crib. We end (Picture 6 - Just before her hypothetical bedtime, expounding on her day) with Dear Alex, back in her box, talking about her day. I love this little girl, and I guess it's a tribute to BW that she's got such a fun, open sense of play that can take her from ballet to music to trains and tracks in a day - I'm sure we'll get to princess this and princess that eventually, but right now I'm rooting for the engineer.

Day two - Mayhem and chaos and sweetness and light

It sounds more dramatic than it really is, but this was one of those days that I think exemplify the strange duality of life with a two year old. As Beautiful Wife is away, and nanny J. is off for the weekend I got to see the entire arc of the day, without interruption. Dear Alex started my day as usual with the 7am warning cry, where she simply wakes up screaming - then falls promptly back to sleep, leaving you a little dazed. I got up briefly, listened carefully for any further activity, and hearing nothing, chose to go back to sleep with the certain knowledge that it would not be for long. At 8 or 8:30 Dear Alex was up in full force - screaming "diaper, diaper!, poooopie diaperrrr"! That's the cry you really can't ignore. So, good morning my beautiful daughter - forgive me if I carry you at arms length to the changing table, but oh my, you are stinky. There is a certain delight in this, of course, because it's something that's easily fixed, and it certainly fosters a connection. There - I made that better, and got a great hug and wiped your butt and your sleepy-sweaty forehead to get those sleep-matted curls of hair off your face. Daddy made coffee, and a cup of milk, and the day got off to a slow start. That's something I've seen more of recently, this lazy morning thing with Dear Alex. She definitely did not want to do anything in particular, but wandered around the apartment in her PJs, flopping on the floor or furniture, usually with a book or two and her new "knuffle bunny" in the other.
We had breakfast, and read a lot of books and Dear Alex finally picked up some momentum - we got dressed, and finally her energy level soared. I was in a mood to clean - Dear Alex had a different agenda - wanton destruction. She went through the living room like a tornado, emptying boxes, pulling out books, and removing all of the cushions from the furniture. For a short while, I tried to keep up, picking up after the whirlwind - but I gave up, interested in seeing how it would play out. Awesome. Stuff everywhere. It seemed to satisfy her enough that she could simply throw herself down on the floor without any fear of injury, as there were cushions everywhere. (see pix above - I only wish I'd taken some wider shots of the devastation) This went on for a while, and I'd finally had enough - no anger, just a sure knowledge that it had to stop before someone (Dear Alex) got hurt. Without asking I chased her down, got her dressed to go out to howls of "no no noooooooo", and we went outside - no stroller, no diaper bag, no hassles, just a change of scene. It was great - Dear Alex instantly became the sweetest and cutest little girl in the world. We went to "the trainshow, the trainshow" the bookstore, and had a great time getting daddy coffee and Dear Alex a cup of milk. Today, we love Starbucks even more. We stopped at Ray Bari pizza for lunch (I love living in the city) By the time we got home, I'd completely forgotten about the mess that was waiting for me to clean... Dear Alex went down for her nap at 2:30, and the mess was gone by 3:00.
Note to self: It's very good to have a place for things, and to know where to put them.

Day one

Dancing with the fire chief










Knuffle Bunny!










Brushing, brushing, brushing...

This begins another minor Lil'screamie blog-a-thon for Beautiful wife, who's lucky enough to be spending a week away in beautiful Vancouver, BC - our favorite city, and a place that holds a lot of power and fond memories for the both of us. I am, of course, jealous, and remember the wonderful arrival in the morning, and seeing the lights on Capilano as we drove in from the airport, disconnected in time and place from our world to find Douglas Coupland's "City of Glass". Altogether too beautiful to deny, too powerful in it's precious setting to not fall in love with, and not fall in love in - We really do have roots there.
Tonight was a sad one, with the realization on Dear Alex's part that mommie was really "gone away" - we spent an hour with the camera looking at pictures of Dear Alex and mommie, made a chart with stamps on it for how many days BW would be away, brushed our teeth, and went to bed late after a lot of hugs and reassurance that BW would indeed return, when we got to the last house on the chart. I miss you desperately already, BW - please find that energy that we found and bring some of it back. With love, anything is possible.

Not a new picture, but from a beautiful day towards the end of October 2007 - Beautiful Wife and Dear Alex at play. It's one of my very favorites - a picture that sums up an awful lot of how it feels to be Daddy, and to live as we do these days.
Lil'screamie (the blog) was never abandoned - It's more as though it was allowed to lie fallow for a while as Daddy figured out a way to manage the sheer density of life and the progress of a spectacular child. There is an endless fascination in watching your own child grow, and how is it possible to share this magnificent intimacy? The truth is you can't - and I've really given up on the hope that this record, as evanescent as it is will capture the details of my new life's work. The only way forward, really, is to simply note the significant passages as one can, and hope for coherence later.
It seems that it will never be a narrative, but a series of snapshots that provide a little context and content - it turns out that there are no turning points, no real significant passages, just an endless and delightful parade of incidents and moment that demonstrate that the Dear Baby Alex has transitioned from infant to toddler to child seamlessly and without difficulty. And that's all you can ask for.

Snow. Tires. Responsibility.

We had the chance to get away from the city this last weekend, and I was more than ready for it - It was October - a month of weekend plans and halloween parties and business that kept us in the city with it's own promise and delight, but this weekend away was surely needed. We left the city in a very light rain, the roads a little wet, and I drove with my usual caution, hoping to carry both Beautiful Wife and Dear Alex safely and surely to The Undisclosed Location. As we left the city up the FDR all seemed okay until I hit some spots of undrained water on the road - the car hopped a bit and slid side to side, so subtley that I think only I (with my hands on the wheel) felt it. Ahhh, hydroplaning, a little slower worked better. I'd felt a little oddness in the handling of the car before, but put it down to something else (an undiagnosed noise and un-fixed squeaking from the front end) and chose to ignore it. I forgot the most basic instinct that I've learned from years of motorcycles and flying - If it feels wrong, it probably is. If there is a problem it won't go away by itself, and the best thing to do is fix it now, before it hurts you. I write this to 'out myself' and remind myself to never take what seems like a little thing for granted. Don't ignore your instincts. It was all okay in the end, but getting to Dear Alex's house in the country had me so tense and 'clenched' that I ached the next day. Under other circumstances, it would have been a great drive - the girl, true to form, did not fall asleep, and felt compelled to comment on all that passed, drop things from her car seat, and whine for them, all while I'm hanging on for dear life - The drive was maddening, but eventually magical as the rain turned to snow - and Dear Alex calmed down, probably as mesmerized as I was by the large snowflakes streaming hypnotically past the windshield. We made it home without incident, and I had the gratifying moment of silence as we shut off the car and the snow fell silently in the headlights. Beautiful Wife took the girl upstairs and to bed, and all was right with the world. On Saturday morning, Dear Alex had a great time looking at, commenting on, and walking in the freshly fallen snow before we left to get a set of new tires for the car. We spent Saturday morning (I took the girl to give BW a break) at a 'Tire Center', and Dear Alex had a great time seeing the car up in the air without it's wheels and walking daddy endlessly around the parking lot and splashing in puddles. It made a world of difference - nothing wrong with the car - just needed tires, all around. This is not really a lilscreamie post, but more of a reminder to myself to not ignore the gut, especially when there's others involved. I've come a long way from when I could just get on a motorcycle, make it work, and get away without a care. It's an odd and humbling feeling, being ultimately responsible for a new person's life.

New girl in the house

I've been busy not working lately - catching up, mostly on life and the things you put off while you're trying to find time in the daily work routine. One of the more important things that was on my list was to find a replacement kitty for Emma, my Manx cat that died way too young - Dear Alex missed her, and I surely did. I'd been looking and waiting since last February until I found a cat that seemed right, and bless the internet - and petfinder.com - there she was. It took a lot of email and some planning, but I'm happy to say that a new adopted Manx cat has a home, and feels right at home in her new place. She was adopted as 'Pepper' - a fine name, to be sure, but as she sang to me all the way home from New Jersey, and that I have a history of names with my cats, and that Dear Alex had a definite preference (When asked, the first choice was "Pie-Eye", then "Tik-Tik", her new names for everything) by parental fiat the name of choice is 'Ella', or occasionally 'Emma', depending on whether or not Dear Alex is paying attention. The names are interchangeable to her, and I guess that's okay for now. Ella's adjusted well and quickly to our routines, and her place in the household. After a few days of hissing, I think that Gracie (the other cat) has found a new friend just as she had with Emma. It is funny to me that Ella (or Pepper or Pie-Eye) has claimed Emma's favorite spot as her own, and is more or less open to the approaches of my sometimes less-than-gentle two-year-old. Many thanks to saracats@aol.com for helping make this happen. Adopt a cat.

Costume crazy

Although Dear Alex was certain about the fireman costume she did have a lot of play with other bits and pieces of other outfits - we'll haunt her with this one for a long time...

A week of halloween

It's finally over - an entire week of Halloween parties and festivities that have been by turns fun and funny and opressive and delightful. We gave Dear Alex plenty of choices when it came to Halloween costumes - she passed on the bunny, the ladybug, and the princess, and firmly let us know what she wanted to dress up as - a fireman. I'm not sure where it came from, but it was definitive. It may have come from the dress-up play at one of her classes, or maybe it was a visit to a fire company many months ago - I have to say that it was a good choice, a durable, wearable costume that looked pretty tough on a cute two-year-old. I liked her choice, and she did too - She wore the hat and coat around the house for days, and to at least four parties.
It's been dress-up time around here lately as Dear Alex has been trying out all sorts of combinations of clothes and costumes from her collection. She has an apron, and monster truck boots, and a poodle costume from last year, and a tu-tu that someone gave us when she was born - the combinations have been unintentionally hilarious and creative.

The fireman costume was something, though - It's very much as though she took it seriously. We made the occasion to take her for another visit to a firehouse, where she was warmly welcomed by a real fireman. (who was also impressed by her choice) Dear Alex got to see a real big red fire truck up close, see the lights and the steering wheel, and got to see what happens when a real emergency call comes in - the fun stopped, we stepped out, and they left in a hurry. I hope no one was hurt.

Goodnight moon

I just watched a beautiful golden half-moon set over water, and wished that Dear Alex was awake to enjoy the view, to say a quiet 'goodnight moon' to the light in the sky that has held her attention since she was just a baby. (I know I've written about this before) It has something to do with my own fascination, being of an age that lets me remember being a child that got to stay up all night to witness man's first steps... Looking up tonight I thought about that, and what she'll see in her lifetime. It's positively humbling to be a parent, and to have hopes for an unknowable future. It's enough for me now to marvel at Dear Alex's memory, and the fact that we read 'goodnight moon' to her often enough that she can still recite the back cover from memory: "This classic bedtime story has lulled generations of children to sleep..."
Beautiful Wife added the clause " and you are my child, so I read it to you" and it stuck -
So from now until she knows better, every book ends that way.

Teriffic twos

Dear Alex seems to grow a little bit every day, and so far (knocking firmly on real wood right now) there's been no sign of the dreaded "terrible twos". Honestly, she definitely has her toddler moments, and certainly has her share of obsessive behavior, but who among us doesn't? Of late, Dear Alex has been all about mommy, and can't seem to bear a moment without her, or without a careful explanation of where mommy is, and when she'll be back, and she seems to regard daddy as merely around to give her what she wants when she wants it - kind of like Beautiful Wife, now that I think about it. I mean that, of course, in the nicest possible way, in that there's very little I wouldn't do for either of them - it's an extraordinarily happy and easy time and Alex has an astonishing ability to hypnotize and / or charm you into forgetting the whining and crying and (so I've heard) two-year-old behavior by breaking into song, reciting words from favorite books, or breaking out into the most amazing and unintelligible stories of something she's done or wants to do. It's a great time figuring out what the heck she's talking about.
I'm impressed mostly by how many words she has, and the odd things (songs, stories and games - including the entire back cover from "goodnight moon", and all the words to "The wheels on the bus...") from the dim dark past of months ago that she remembers.
Another great delight of late has been her ability to express what she wants and what she's feeling - this is not something that she's completely mastered by any stretch, but it's been great to be able to hear and act on "Alex hungry, Alex tired, Alex go for a walk outside" - at least you know what she needs, and can help. That's what I'm here for.

Best toy ever

From Dear Aunt Linda: The magna doodle. I'm thinking of getting a few more of them for Beautiful Wife and I to play with, as well as one to keep in the car, one for the house and one for the city, and maybe one as a spare. Dear Alex loves it, and has a great time endlessly making dashed off expressionist gesture drawings, then making them disappear. No batteries, no mess, just quick gratification. Dear Alex likes to sit with daddy and make me draw things for her to erase. She gets wierdly specific about what to draw and where - then takes great joy in erasing it, and making me do it again. Forget the producer thing - she's got the makings of an advertising Creative Director.

Three years ago today

Beautiful Wife became Beautiful Wife. Though there have been many changes in our busy lives over the last three years, one constant remains: I'm still a lucky, lucky man.

Post Office

A couple of horribly (yet delightfully) blurry images of
Dear Alex in motion on her new favorite thing.

We live a couple of blocks from a really grand post office - the kind of thing the government built when mail was king. A vast space with marble floors, high ceilings, banks of P.O. boxes and best of all a two-story open lobby with working escalators. It's a public space, and of late Dear Alex and I have been going to the post office every day to go in the "door that goes round and round and ride the moving steps up and down. okay!" I can't take credit for discovering this marvel - Beautiful Wife took her here on a real postal-related mission, and it kind of blew Dear Alex's mind - I'm not sure what it is, but she dearly loves her "eskalaterrr - moving stepss". Of course writing it does no justice to the delight of listening to her get the word "escalator" out. A couple of days ago, Dear Alex came to me when I got home from work to ask if we could go outside and walk to the post office, go in the revolving door and ride the escalators up and down. It made me stop for a moment - she'd made a pretty completely thought out plan of what she wanted to do, found the right words, and asked to do it. I'm impressed, and more than happy to oblige. This is the stuff I live for right now - being able to understand what Dear Alex wants, and give it to her. I'm quite sure that there will be a time when those requests will be more complicated and less charming, but for now it's a lot of fun.

Happy birthday Dear Alex

...Happy birthday to you. Two years ago today Dear Alex came into the world a week or so early and perfect. The world is a much happier place with the kid in it, and it's enough to note that she seems to be having a lot of fun.

Pictures of Alex

It's been a while since I've had the will or inclination to write about Dear Alex - It's summertime and the living's been busy - not so easy, and there's been so much to do both in work and in life that it's been very hard to find that small quiet place that it takes to wax philosophical about being a daddy and the awesome responsibility of marshalling the force that Dear Alex has become - so instead, I take pictures.

In the way back time before there was Dear Alex (and even before Beautiful Wife) I took a lot of pictures, pictures by the thousands from the early days of digital photography - I have a box somewhere of hundreds of floppy disks from my first (and second) Sony Mavicas and more from smaller, sleeker, faster cameras that came next - I pride myself on being able to not only identify the place and time and even my state of mind when I took the picture - I'm mostly a visual person, and it does work - mostly. BW used to give me a hard time about the pictures, my "art director shots" as she rightfully called them - and I certainly did take a lot of random pictures, mostly of things that caught my eye, or in some way reminded me that I should always remember to look - because in life it's rare that we ever pass the same way twice.
Dear Alex has given me the perfect excuse ( and BW no longer coments on the ever-present camera) to take pictures madly, exuberantly, and without a care as to what it looks like. Secretly though, I take pictures in the hope that I'll remember the little things and important things in equal measure as Dear Alex becomes less cute and novel and becomes more and more a child, and that magic and wonder is lost to the day-to-day realities of pre-school and education and potty training and...

So, at least once a week - even whan I haven't had a word to say, I've been adding pictures regularly to the flickr photoset (hoping, of course, that each one will be worth a thousand words), and I'm hoping that really does capture what's new and important to daddy and Dear Alex - the analysis and philosophy will have to come later, as there's way too much to do before the summer's over to think about it too hard.

Stuff of dreams

Dear Alex has been growing by leaps and bounds, and she's been having a lot of wonderful experiences lately - but even the day-to-day stuff is very important to her, and it's coming out in her monologues and dreams. The monologues have been going on for quite a while - for a few months Dear Alex almost always started the day early (for us - say, 7:30 am or so, but she didn't demand that you participate - she would simply talk to herself and her friends in the crib for a while before she noticed that she was wet, hungry or alone. She would have a great conversation with herself and her stuffed animal friends, mostly unintelligible, and punctuated with a laugh or squeal, and a recitation of the things she's done recently - "Alex up and down, bunny bunny mmm,waaah! (that's an Alex air kiss), it's okay, walking sandbox fountains! Tricycle shoes daddy!
It's almost as though she was rehearsing the words and language that she was going to use during the day, and experimenting with the sound and feel of saying things. It was kind of a fun game for Beautiful Wife and I to figure out what she was talking about, and what those murmurings over the baby monitor meant. She certainly was having fun, and it's been delightful to listen to.

Fast forward to the past few weeks - as her verbal and cognitive skills have increased, the dreamy delight of her morning conversations have given way to more urgent and specific calls for "mommy and daddy! change diaper cup of milk! change diaper! cup of milk! Mommy here daddy here!" It begins as a murmer and builds to a tirade of angry need - that sounds a bit negative as I write but that's not my intention - Dear Alex is nothing but sheer delight, and it's been interesting to listen to her find and use the words for what she needs. As the words come easier and more clearly, it's been gratifying to listen to her remember and talk about the things BW and I do with her, and how much of it sticks and gets played back as she grows.

The haunting

I've gone on a great lengths about the intelligence and wonder of Dear Alex, to the point that I'm almost sick of writing about it myself (hence the sparseness of postings of late), but more and more of late Dear Alex will do or say something that completely surprises me, and gives me a clue that this being a father/parent thing - while rich and rewarding - will also have moments that truly humble me and break my heart.

On Wednesday morning of this past week, we had the usual bustle of getting Dear Alex up and Beautiful Wife dressed and out the door, and for some reason on this day I was moving a little slower - BW got out the door first after nanny J. arrived, and I did my usual walking back and forth gathering things and finding wallet, keys, phone, computer accessories, etc. . The kid was a little on edge anyways, asking for "mommy, mommy, mommmmmmy", and accepted only sketchily that "mommy went to work". That was okay, more or less, but Dear Alex saw my briefcase - "daddy work, daddy work" - and me getting ready to go, and she kind of lost it, and came out with the line that's haunted me for days: "Daddy (snuff) work Alex crying daddy (snuff) work Alex (sniff, sniff) crying". It stopped me in my tracks: Daddy work = Alex crying.

Yeah, I guess she wanted me to stay and play with her for a while, but I had some storyboards that needed finishing, and a print ad to revise and I was already late - and what's a daddy to do?
I had to go, and had to hand this beautiful child off to Dear nanny J. despite my desire to stay and hold her and comfort her and let her know that there was nothing else in the world that I would rather be or do than be her daddy always, now and forever and that I'd never leave her.

Guess what? I left. The ugly reality of life is such that I did indeed have to go to work, and unless I hit lotto big time that's not likely to change...

I wondered and wished for the longest time that Dear Alex could tell us what was bothering her when she was upset by something, and I guess my wish came true, but the first instance of her new associative skills really got to me - I've been thinking about it for days, in fact. It turns out that all was just fine when I got home, and we haven't had a repeat of that particular complaint, but I know now that I do wish I could spend more than the the three or so waking hours a day that we do have together. It all counts, and I do try to make the most of it, as does BW. I wish it weren't so hard, and I wish we could make every day a Saturday.

The name is Alex

This started a few weeks (maybe a month?) ago, but Dear Alex finally figured out who we were referring to when we said "Alex" - none other than the dear girl herself. It started around the time I started putting more pictures of her up on flick'r, and playing them for her on-demand, as in her sitting in the high-chair, pointing at the computer, and saying "picture picture". That's what she knew the computer as, as really that's all it was for in front of her - her generic term for computer for the longest time was simply "picture picture" - but it's since evolved*. We'd show her pictures of Alex, and pictures of mommy and daddy, and pictures of things, and a dumb little powerpoint alphabet that I made - but one day she asked for "pictures of Alex" - Now she narrates her life in the third person - "Alex goes for a walk outside, Alex hiding" - and rushes me when I take out the camera to see "pictures of Alex". It's getting harder to take her picture.

So, the newest challenge that I have is how to teach Dear Alex the difference between "you" and "me" when she's referring to herself - It's something I've never really though about before - when do we come to that distinction, and how do you teach it? ( I tried Strunk and White, but they presume a more advanced reader) When she's tired of walking, Dear Alex will say "daddy pick you up? mommy pick you up?" - of course we pick her up without fail, but just exactly how does one explain the difference between "you" and "me"?
(cut to daddy gesturing - "I am you, you are me, when you are referring to yourself" - Dear Alex stares blankly, sucking her thumb. )
(cut to daddy gesturing - "you should be me when you mean you" - Dear Alex stares blankly, sucking her thumb. ) it goes on.

*Dear Alex now refers to computers (at least the ones in this house) as "apples" - for the never ending little grey (platinum?) apple with a bite out of it that she sees as she waits impatiently
for the pictures of Alex to appear.

Looking out

Sometime over the last few weeks or so, while I wasn't writing, but mired in work and the usual day-to-day of getting by, Dear Alex crossed some kind of oh-so-subtle line in her growing awareness of the world. I don't think there's a word or classification for it, but there's been a change that happened so slowly that there isn't one thing that I can point to and go "aha!"
It's another subtle shift in her intellect, her curiousity, and her take on the world. I have no idea if this is something that's codified as a growth stage, or if it's just something that I'm getting hung up on - the kid switched from inward-looking sponge to outward-looking person - I'm doing an awful job of explaining it, but it's like this:
Walking down the street used to be an exercise in her gesturing madly - "this?, this? this?" as you patiently explained that that was a "building, tree, flower, garbage truck," etc., ad infinitum, as there are a lot of things to name in the city. - Dear Alex suddenly seems to know she knows things, and is more than happy to point things out with glee, and tell you: " bus, truck, people walking on the sidewalk" and everything else - but this goes beyond that - the kid will look you in the eye, and tell you something, seriously - no matter that I can't understand what she's saying, it means something to her - and she's earnestly trying to share it. ( Beautiful Wife is actually much better at deciphering what she's saying than I am, much to my chagrin ) All I can do is smile and nod. But the sponge that was Dear Alex is finally over-saturated, and the knowledge is leaking out in words and phrases that I know she's taken great care to form and share. It's exciting, and (sorry) heart-warming because the all-absorbing-sponge is also starting to give back affection and interest in mommy and daddy. (as opposed to being aware of only Dear Alex) This is an incredibly lumpy post for a truly amazing on-going experience, but It kind of came to me as I came home from work tonight and ran into BW and Dear Alex outside, and the kid stopped what she was doing, and ran to me (in that funny bouncy toddler way) and gave me an expert hug. Welcome home.

We're okay, daddy's just lazy.

I want to assure anyone who happens to find this dusty back-water of the internet by accident or on purpose that Lil'screamie hasn't been abandoned - It just seems like the "daddy story" post, some ugly advertising business and spending almost all of my waking hours at a computer screen - not by choice but of necessity, has taken a lot of the fun out of sitting at this computer in the wee hours trying to think of something new to say. It turns out that it's easy to find things to say with Dear Alex and her amazing progress in the world, but how many ways can you say "She's so cute" and "she's so smart" without boring yourself and any reader to numbness?

Perhaps it's simply to write as I originally thought, about what it's like to have this incredible responsibility and love that simply overtakes everything in your life and teaches you humility and patience and how to be amazed again by little things. I wrote about "mindfulness" a while back and why it's important to keep track of the little things about her development (oh, such a clinical word for such a miraculous thing) and the things that Beautiful Wife and I do with her and for her amusement and delight, (and ours, too, as it turns out) and I didn't keep up with my own hopes for that - there will be some gaps, and I'm feeling as though if it's not written somewhere, it's lost in the ever-changing now. I want to make note of the sweet moments, and the odd stuff that we do to keep Dear Alex and ourselves entertained and educated, like this:

We came back from the country early on Sunday, mostly because Beautiful Wife and I were feeling guilty about taking Friday off and we wanted to get a head start on worrying about the week to come, so we had a bit of the afternoon to kill. BW suggested that we take Dear Alex to visit a firehouse so that Dear Alex could see a "firetruck" up close. It's an amazing thing to do with a kid. All our child knows of firetrucks is the loud siren and horn and lights as the great beasts roar up the avenue past our apartment, all thunder and light - she never fails to shout "firetruck!" and point as they pass - so, we put the kid in her stroller and set out to find our local station, and found it easily. Holding her up to the windows in the great red garage doors made her point and squeal with happiness - "two firetrucks in the garage". It only got better when one of the firemen invited us in - It stuck me that the fireman was more than happy that anyone took an interest in them and what they did, and he was more than happy to open a door for show and tell. (The NYFD guys are truly great, and I am in awe of their service and how genuinely nice they are.) Dear Alex was stunned speechless. Two sleeping giants in this great garage, up close and shiny and red and real. She loved it (and recovered her speech later - "two firetrucks in the garage!!") - this is one that she'll remember.
I'll remember it, too, because having a toddler with you can open doors and give you a point of view that you would never even think to think about - what other reason on earth would motivate anyone to visit a firehouse in New York City on a late Sunday afternoon, and feel so good about having done something so simple, yet so grounding?

A daddy story

I took a break from lilscreamie - both mentally and physically - to take a trip to Florida to more or less close a chapter in my life that's been the hardest to deal with for the longest time. After almost two years of waiting and some inneffectual attemps at "getting something done" - my sisters and I are finally getting around to settling the matter of my father's very modest estate.

My mother passed away in early 2000, leaving my dad alone. It was an extraordinarily sad and difficult time, but we all got through it, as families do. My father lived quietly and well and finally came to enjoy himself again, walking on the beach and driving his convertible and occasionally making trips up north to visit me and the always Beautiful, but not-yet-Wife. He did get to see me married, and sometimes I think that was one of the happier days of his life - he loved talking about it, and loved Beautiful Wife. I visited occasionally, too infrequently, but when the timing worked, I'd take him flying - usually someplace relatively far away, for a breakfast in Sebring, FL or a lunch someplace north, just to get the hours in and share the delight with him, - he was proud of me, and it made me feel proud to make him happy. My father came from a time when men had short hair and nearly everyone (who was serious) wore a suit - I have a ponytail, and dress (for the most part) as though I'm getting ready for yard work or going into battle - and I work in advertising so I was always a little suspect. Over the years, we worked that out, and he really did get that I was doing something (he was never quite sure what, exactly) that would keep me and mine safe in the world. Once he figured out that I was going to be okay, we got along better and better - to the point that we actually enjoyed each other's company. I'm glad to be able to say that.












After several scares and some diet changes and my wedding and a visit or two to the undisclosed location, my father's heart finally failed him - he passed away in June of 2005, but not before he got to see an ultrasound movie of the squirming black and white blob that would be Dear Alex. I would that he had lived to see the wonderful child that she's becoming.

I write this because even though the grief has passed, it can be sad and hard to realize with certainty that this is the end of someone else's story, Cleaning out your parent's house - the accumulation of 50-plus years of life together, is an object lesson in the importance of living, and a cautionary tale about the relentless accumulation of things. All of it meant something to them, but it means nothing to me (save a nod to whatever significance it held for them) so what, objectively, am I to do with it? Let it go, I think, is the real answer. The artifacts that I've taken so far are simple and small, and will fit into the very different life that I expect for BW and myself. The largest and heaviest item by far is my father's toolbox - a bulky red craftsman thing with lots of drawers full of well-used hand tools - The sheer density of it, and it's weight say everything about how it feels to have it - I lived in awe of his ability to make and fix things, and I know now that I truly am my father's child by my constant urge to do the same. The toolbox, and a few other things I'm keeping don't begin to do justice to the life my parents led or the fun they had or the things that meant something to them.


I'm tempted to start labeling the boxes of things that BW and I have collected in our (relatively) short time together - "this box of maps and these rounded rocks are from a time before you when we were young and in love and we travelled British Columbia and walked on glaciers and rode in convertibles and rode motorcycles through rainstorms and flew airplanes for the joy of life and sharing our passions and this is how we lived - and we did, and this proves it."

That narrative and context is what's missing for me now, though it's possible to piece together a lot of life and little adventures from what my parents left behind, things I remember (the green caddy convertible, endless days at the beach... ) and the stories they told. but mostly it's a sad business, and the opressive heat and relentless humidity and the fecundity of south Florida takes it's toll - their once well-kept home is overgrown by vines and mold and it's pretty clear that there's really no one home, ever again.

Happy mother's day

To any and all that might check in. Dear Alex has the best and most caring mother, who keeps surprising me with the deep love and joy she takes with our wonderful daughter. She makes it look so easy, and she really makes me laugh. Special thanks to Grammy for raising such a wonderful daughter, and for having such great love and care for our Dear Alex. I would that my own mother were still alive to know this great kid, and to know that she taught me well - and I hope to do as well for my delightful daughter as she did for me.

Mommy motorcycle

Recently I've been putting up a lot of photos on Flickr - new sets under constant revision - not pix of Dear Alex, but pictures for her. It's a great entertainment for her, and she has a real fascination with the world and things in it - and it's even better if mommy or daddy are in the picture. So, for her delight I've been adding images from our collective past - a time before Dear Alex - for her amusement and delight. The "mommy motorcycle" picture is the one she asks for by name, and I have to admit that it's one of my favorites as well - though it bears no relationship to our everyday lives. Dear Alex loves the pictures, and for some reason, I love them too - it's a reminder, of sorts, of how we got here - and what we hope to share with this beautiful child. I haven't flown a plane since she was born, and BW hasn't been on a motorcycle since we were married - but I will, and she can, and we have pictures to prove it.

Producer in training part 2

Just like Beautiful Wife, Dear Alex loves her telephones -
And what could be better than one phone? Two telephones!
A scene I've witnessed many times on the job with BW.

Producer in training

Dear Alex had a busy Saturday - A long walk down Park Avenue, and a visit to Beautiful Wife's office ("mommy office mommy office steps") where she had the chance to wander about, turn the lights on and off in the conference room, and sit in the seat of power - she's a natural on the computer, and she certainly knows how to get people to do things for her - immediately.

Beautiful

A moment of Dear Alex and Beautiful Wife together.
The little black ribbon just kills me.

2:00am

Dear Alex woke up in the middle of the night tonight, Something that she hasn't done in a long time, and as I was awake and working (the work thing again) I sort of tried to ignore it, but at the same time, her apparent dissatisfaction with the world matched my own, so I kind of felt her angst - and felt compelled to respond. It's a rare thing to be able to so surely comfort someone as a crying child in the middle of the night - I took her out of the crib, and held her and changed her diaper and did nothing more than rock for a while, repeating "It's all okay, I love you and mommy loves you and the world is yours" - Ten minutes later Dear Alex is asleep on my chest, and I have to conciously tear myself away to go back to work. I would that I could have done a repeat of the early months with her and simply fallen asleep to wake in the morning with the wonder that she hadn't fallen out of my arms to the floor. It was a moment of remembering the sleepless care and love that we all could use every once in a while. I needed that hug tonight, and without even trying Dear Alex came through.

Alex at work

Work: It's what we do, and some days it's harder than others, and some days it's pure joy - a concept clicks and an idea sells and all is right with the world. Every day, though, it's harder to leave Dear Alex - even in the capable and loving hands of nanny J.
Recently, Beautiful Wife took Dear Alex to visit at the office - a nice day for BW and the kid, with pizza in the boardroom and lots of new things to see and do and people to interact with, and even a baby friend born of a co-worker of BW at around the same time - Dear Alex had a good day at the office, and came back with the words "office" and "steps". She loves the challenge of stairs - always has - and the office in question has a grand internal staircase spanning three floors - that she climbed repeatedly "up!" and "down" - surely exhausting for Dear Alex and BW, but somehow apropos to the endless ups and downs and the true nature of work, especially in advertising.
What this is all about really, is assuaging the guilt that goes with working for a living while wanting to celebrate every waking moment of your beautiful child - we go away for most of Dear Alex's day - to do what she can probably only imagine as endlessly climbing stairs.

Sooooo right.