Where Did My Baby Go?

No, I didn't lose her at the mall...not yet, at least. Although, I have uttered the phrase "Uh...where did she just crawl off to?" on more than one occasion since she gained mobility.

What I mean is that somehow, almost overnight, by baby turned into a toddler!

As I mentioned in "One Must Learn To Crawl Before...Never Mind", my daughter has been at least somewhat mobile for some time, as she learned to pull herself up on whatever was around her so she could sidestep her way around the house.

Once she had figured out how to support her own weight on her chubby little baby legs, my wife and I started to prepare her for the next step (heh heh, pun intended) by holding her hands and helping her "walk" around the house. While she really enjoyed this activity, whenever we would let go of her hands she would immediately drop down to her butt and crawl the rest of the way.

The other night she hit one of the biggest baby milestones when I aimed her at my wife and let go of her hands. She stood on her own for a second before taking two little steps on her own, ending in a final lunge for my wife's neck.

We were so excited that we played "pass the baby" for another hour, until her step count record had made it all the way to five. She seemed to be enjoying it too, because she would give us a huge two-toothy grin each time she completed a lap. Once she was too tired to take any more steps we put our new "play toy" to bed, where she slept for twelve straight hours in the same position, obviously worn out from practicing her new skill.

I'm pretty sure that during her twelve-hour snooze, she went through a metamorphosis, similar to the way a Caterpillar turns into a butterfly, because when she woke up the next day she seemed completely different.

In the morning, while we were all home and getting ready for work and school/daycare, she was was more smiley and playful than usual. However, the biggest difference was noticed when we placed her in the bathtub that night.

Suddenly she started doing several new mannerisms that she had never done before, like bouncing her hand over her mouth and making noises (similar to any caricature of an American Indian in Looney Tunes), after which she would stop and look at my wife and I, as if to see if we thought it was funny. If we laughed, then she would laugh. It was like she new she funny!

After her bath we played "pass the baby" another time (something my wife and I had been waiting to do all day), where our little one upped her step record to 14. Even more interesting to watch was when she decided that she was done practicing her walking, so she stepped over to a cabinet, walked along it for a few steps, then stepped away to walk over and play with her toys.

As my wife and I watch our daughter walk around the living room, going from toy to toy as she pleased, oblivious to our presence in the room, we realized that the adorable little milk-drinking sack of potatoes, that couldn't do anything but eat, sleep, and poop, that we had brought home eleven months ago had turned into something completely different: a toddler.

So, it seems like a new chapter in parenthood has just opened for me, and I hope to enjoy it as much as the previous one.

Perpetually Sick

Prior to becoming a father, I almost never got sick. With the exception of some springtime allergies and the occasional 2-day cold that I would get after a tough semester in college, I was always in perfect health.

I had never gotten a flu vaccine or ever had a desire or reason to get one. In fact, the last time I had seen the doctor's office was over a decade prior, when I needed a physical to play sports in high school.

And then, I became a parent.

Now, it seems like I am constantly sick. What used to be long stretches of months at a time in between colds have now become weeks, days in some cases. My body is now constantly powered by a cocktail of Dayquil, Airborne, and multivitamins, with a splash of orange juice.

I blame my daughter.

Or, at least I blame the fine layer of mucus that she leaves on my clothes as she uses me (and every piece of furniture in the house) as her tissue. But, sick babies need extra love, so I can't really quarantine her in her room until she is healthy. Plus, I'm a softy and I can't resist holding her when she isn't feeling well.

My daughter is always the one that starts off the vicious cycle of sickness in our house, usually by bringing home something that she picked up at daycare. If she comes home with a runny nose, I know it is time to stock up on my "cocktail" ingredients.

Without failure, I am sick within five days after her first runny nose. My wife seems to mysteriously avoid catching it from me, however. And, just as I am recovering from whatever "present" my daughter has introduced into our home, she is kind enough to bring another nasty home.

I know that her tiny immune system is just learning how to cope with all of the nasties in the world, but when she is trying to learn a new immunity, does she have to bring it home to share with me?

What confuses me about her passing every cold and flu on to me, is the fact that prior to having her I had been around plenty of sick adults with much nastier colds and flus, with no effect on my health. Are adult germs different than kid germs?

I'm starting to think that, that might be the case. As I've said before, prior to the birth of my own daughter, I had never really been around children. So, maybe I haven't been exposed to the common germs that circulate around kids and built up my immunities. My wife, on the other hand, used to work in a preschool and she seems to hardly ever catch whatever illness our daughter has, even if I catch it first.

Whatever the reasons behind it, I'm ready for cold and flu season to come to an end...I think I'm becoming a Dayquil addict!

What A Mess! 2: Taking It Public

Several months ago, I wrote a blog post titled "What A Mess!" in which I shared the story of my first experience at feeding my daughter solid foods, and the mess that ensued as I tried desperately, and ineffectively, to "work clean" while feeding her.

Since then, I have had plenty of practice at feeding her, and I can now swiftly empty a jar of strained vegetables into her mouth without letting a single drop fall onto her bib or even, more impressively, her chin. At least, that was the case until recently, as I wrote about last week in "I've Been Downsized", when I was recently "let go" from my position as Personal Nutrition Delivery Specialist for my daughter, as she is making the transition to finger foods.

While I may still be a little heartbroken that I'm no longer needed for such a mundane task as feeding her myself, now that she has moved on to finger foods I have been able to reap a benefit from her new skill in that we can now share a plate, both at home and at restaurants, which opens up a whole new world of food possibilities (and allows us to leave our house more often for meals, instead of living in constant fear of "feeding time".)

Since she may not be ready to eat an entire hamburger by herself just yet, not all restaurant options are open to us yet. But, if we know that we will be eating out somewhere and want to feed our daughter "people" food (Technically, baby food is people food too, but I wouldn't really place rice cereal in the same category as steak), we look for something that is easily deconstructed into finger food for her with as little effort as possible.

Burritos, believe it or not, match this requirement quite well. Once you remove the tortilla, or cut it into bite-sized pieces, most of the components inside are already perfectly bite-sized portions of food our daughter already enjoys, like rice, beans, tomatoes (from mild salsa), and guacamole (if it's chunky enough), and can feed herself.

So, with our tortilla-wrapped knowledge in mind, we all went to Chipotle (where the food is hormone and antibiotic free) for lunch the other day. My wife shared her veggie burrito with our daughter (I don't share food...with anyone!), by splitting open one end and giving her her own plate of rice, beans, tomatoes, guacamole, tortilla pieces, and cut-up green bell pepper.

As my wife and I enjoyed our burritos, our daughter munched happily on her version of the same meal. As I watched her pick up individual beans and clumps of rice and bring them to her mouth, I noticed that only about half of her food was actually making it to her mouth (which isn't really uncommon) and fall to her lap. Luckily, we have a high chair cover that goes everywhere with us, so I knew that most of the food was being trapped below her.

When the three of us finished our meals, I started cleaning up the table and tossing our trash. Once I had done that, I picked my daughter up, who had managed to get bean shrapnel all over her face and hands (and in one ear, somehow), and lifted her out of her high chair cover.

At this point, I failed to notice two things: 1) The larger-than-normal pile of food that had accumulated in the bottom of the high chair cover, that had "missed" her mouth, and 2) The fact that her shoes had gotten stuck in one of the foot holes of the cover.

So, as I picked up my daughter, oblivious to the two facts above, I also simultaneously dumped about a quarter of a burritos worth or rice, beans, and salsa remnants on the floor, which quickly covered an area of about nine square feet. It should also be noted that this Chipotle is smaller than most and only has about 12 tables. So, when I realized what I did and said "Oh, CRAP!" while standing in the middle of the restaurant, I immediately garnered the attention of everyone in the room, who, all in unison, looked at me standing up and then at the mess around my feet.

Luckily, my wife realized what had happened and hurried to gather up the rest of our belongings, so we could shuffle out the door in embarrassment, as one of the employees came over with a broom and dust pan while we were still standing there.

Maybe this mess was more my fault than my daughter's, but I'm sure this won't be the last time that half of her food ends up on the floor, whether by her doing or mine!

I've Been Downsized

My job has been outsourced.

My position has been eliminated.

My services are no longer required.

I've had an involuntary separation...

...from the job of feeding my daughter.

It seems like only a few months ago (because it was only a few months ago) that my daughter started eating solid foods. (See "What a Mess!") My favorite thing about my daughter's gastronomic milestone was the extra bonding time that we enjoyed while I scooped heaping spoonfuls of bland mush, and eventually chunky fruit or vegetable medleys, into her eager mouth.

But, those days are gone now.

Recently, my wife and I were excited to help our daughter start feeding herself. While she hasn't quite mastered the fork and knife yet (or the spoon, for that matter) she has really taken to shoving pieces of whatever food we put in front of her into her mouth herself.

At first, we started with "puffs", bite-size puffed fruit rings that make a great first finger food because they dissolve in your child's mouth meaning less choking hazards than can be associated with my generation's first finger food: Cheerios. Eventually, we made it all the way up to banana chunks, whole peas and corn, and even little pastas.

Last week, we reached the Holy Grail of child-feeding: Having our daughter eat the same food as us, a milestone that marked the day we could stop buying/making a separate meal for our daughter, and just feeding her bite-sized versions of what we were having, resulting in a slight, but much appreciated, cost savings. She was even able to eat a deconstructed rice and bean burrito from Chipotle, and an all veggie roll from our favorite sushi restaurant!

Whatever finger food was placed in front of our daughter she would happily eat, smiling and laughing at herself. (And, making a huge mess!)

Unfortunately, there was an unexpected consequence from allowing our daughter to find the joy in feeding herself...now, she ONLY wants to feed herself. This would be fine with me if we were always in a place or situation that allowed me to sprawl out a place mat and let my daughter make a mess, feeding herself, for about an hour, but that isn't always the case.

I first noticed the uprising a few weeks ago when, while feeding my daughter some applesauce for breakfast, she thought it would be a fun idea to blow a raspberry at me with a mouthful of food. I, however, didn't find it as amusing. At the time, I assumed she was just playing around, so I blew it off as her being silly, cleaned the both of us up, and got into a raspberry war with her before leaving for work.

But, it didn't stop.

As the days went by, she went from blowing mouthfuls of food at me, via raspberry distribution, to completely twisting herself around in her high chair to avoid a spoonful of food. At first, when she started avoiding her food so fervently, I assumed that she wasn't hungry and let her down to play, only for her to be fussy a half hour later. Eventually, I figured out that she was still hungry, so instead of ending the meal when she was avoiding my spoon, I gave her some puffs, raisins, or banana pieces, which she greedily shoveled into her mouth.

Apparently, it was me. It wasn't that she wasn't hungry, she just didn't want me to feed her anymore. How sad!

Over the last few days, I've come to terms with the fact that my daughter doesn't need me to feed her anymore. I'm sure it won't be the last time that she decides that she "doesn't need me" to help her with something.

So, for now, I'll take my pink slip, clean up my resume, and start looking for another job that I can help my daughter before my next "career change opportunity".