It's Like This

I've always wondered at what point women realize that we (men) actually have no real idea what they are thinking. I think it happens at different ages for different women... maybe, for some, it takes a certain relationship to really grasp that.

I have a hunch that, for many, it never really gets there.

And I think that's why I'm so proud of my little chick. With all the wisdom that four years of life bring with them, she already knows how to communicate to me what she is really needing.

I know, because it happened last night.


We were having story time before getting her ready for bed. She cuddled in beside me, as she usually does, while we read, and at one point, I reached over and picked her up to give her a really good cuddle - one of those ones that just don't work right, sideways. And she got an idea.

"Daddy" she said, her eyes just lighting up. "Let's do this: you tickle, and I'll wiggle".

So we did. And she laughed, and I laughed, and it was wonderful. I'm so glad I knew.

These Are A Few Of Our Favorite Things

I was getting the little chick ready to spend some time with her grandma. I put on some cologne before we went downstairs, and I guess some must have gotten onto her, because when grandma picked her up, she gave Allison a big hug and said, "oh, you smell good!".

This seemed to be good news to the little chick. "I smell good?" she asked. She stopped for a minute to think, trying to figure out where the smell may have been coming from. Then she realized - it must have been lunch.

"Like hot dogs?" she offered. And then, figuring that if a little is good, more would be better: "Smell my breath" she said, leaning over to share the love a little bit. Grandma said that she didn't think it was exactly like hot dogs, but took a sniff of the breath anyways, just in case.

I thought it was pretty cute. I also found it slightly worrying: if my Jean-Paul Gaultier works for a 4 year-old little girl, is it possible that I am not making the best grooming choices that I could be?

Something to ponder.

Furry

When the little chick and I were on our way home from a weekend in the mountains, we saw some things off to the side of the road. Well, I did... she was engrossed in a Franklin book in the back (for those of you keeping track, no, she's not reading yet, but she wants to be), and decided to stop for a look. I pulled off to the side, grabbed my camera, and tossed her up on my shoulders. We went out and had a look, and they turned out to be big-horned sheep, as far as I can tell. In any case, I think I ended up being more impressed than she was. Oh well. At least she has Franklin, and I managed to get a few shots off.

Here are my favorites:

There aren't that many, but you can see the rest here.

Photo Shoot

The little chick and I were hanging out in the car for a bit today, and to kill the time, we decided to take some pictures.

It snowed here... again. Which kind of sucks, because I'm ready for some more warm weather. But it's kind of good because I got some good winter-ish pictures that I hadn't had a chance to make before. I'll get them up soon...

But for now, here are some of my favorites from today. Enjoy!

Grumpy face




The one that always follows grumpy face




She wasn't bored. She just likes to look out the window sometimes.




While I was trying to explain why she probably couldn't hold my 8-pound camera...




My little girl, the way I usually see her.

You can see the others here.

I'm Over Here

The little chick and I have been playing a lot of hide and seek lately. It's been an interesting experience for me... I don't remember playing a lot of hide and seek, but I'm pretty sure I don't remember ever playing it like this.

She is pretty good at the counting, but not great at closing her eyes... not a surprise for a three year-old. She has a habit of hiding in the exact place that she just found me. But I think that part of it is that she doesn't care much about the surprise aspect of it, because pretty frequently when it's my turn to hide she likes to tell me where I should be hiding.

Of course, I don't worry too much about that. And she always finds me, eventually.

She does get bored sometimes, and can kind of forget that I'm hiding somewhere as she finds a book or a toy that takes a little higher priority. That's pretty par for the course, too, with a little chick.

The best part, though, is the goal of the game for her. For most people, it's to find whoever is hiding, or to stay hiding. For her, it's all about the hugs at the end.

So she's not very discreet when she's hidden, but I play the game: I walk around the house, asking where she is, looking into drawers or under cushions, while she "hides". She'll start in the closet, and poke her head out to see if I've spotted her. When I walk by, she'll jump back in, then put her head out again and yell "Daddy, I'm over here!!!". Then she'll be back in the closet for a minute, then out again completely, as I routinely fail completely to find her, even with her hint. Finally, she'll be unable to hold it in any longer, and will jump out, hop around, and call me until I manage to find my way back to her to give her a giant hug.

So the hiding part is a bit sketchy. The seeking is not much better.

But the hugs are pretty great.

Ouch

So, I don't get it. Why is it so hard to find a flipper guy that doesn't have slots cut in it? I don't know about you, but I don't recall the last time I wanted to turn something over but found myself saying, "wow, I wish there was some way for bits of this to fall through while I'm doing this". And the cleaning... partially cooked egg + holes in a plastic flipper <> good combination.

In other news, I discovered yesterday that that stuff that makes chilis hot does not go well with eyes. I had broken up some dried chilly peppers with my dinner last night, and at the end of the meal, forgot that I had done it. I rubbed my eye and realized pretty quick that that stuff sticks around for a while.

Whoops.

The little chick was quite concerned, and asked "are your eyes feeling better now?" more or less every two minutes or so until they were. She's pretty sweet.

I suppose I knew it could be like that, and if I would have had Science Nathan around, he probably would have reminded me. In any case, I've learned my lesson now. Next time, I'm getting someone else to rub my eyes for me.

Secret Agent

The Little Chick and I went to the park today. It was windy, so she wore her trench coat. And, she got new sunglasses, so she wore those, too. I didn't let her carry the gun, though.

You can see the rest here.

Like, Totally, Dude

I have a friend who is very, very English. He has what the English refer to as a posh accent... which does not mean, as you would expect, that he sounds like Victoria Beckem, but instead that he sounds (more or less) like he has money. Every once in a while, he decides to speak "American", which basically involves speaking in his normal, posh accent, and then adding "...dude" at the end of each sentence. It's pretty funny.

I kind of felt like the little chick should have been doing that a couple nights ago. When I was putting her to bed, she looked up at me with a big smile and said "You're awesome, Daddy, and wonderful for taking such good care of me!"

Needless to say, she absolutely melted my already-pretty-soft heart. It's an incredible thing for a three year-old to think about expressing, in my opinion. It wasn't until later that I realized I have no idea where she picked up "awesome". It certainly wasn't from me. In any case, it made me one pretty happy dad, dude.

My Little Chick

Well, Caro, I don't have any graffiti pictures handy, and I missed Wednesday, in any case. Hopefully this will do.

My little chick has been away for a few weeks, and I have missed her like crazy. I've been looking at some pictures and thought maybe I'd share some with you - in these ones she's reading a big book that she can lay down on the floor and climb right on top of.

You probably don't miss her quite like I do, but I hope you like these, anyway.

Oh, and there are a few more here.

Parallel Universe

At dinner tonight, it occurred to me that something was wrong. And it was this: I was using broccoli to try and encourage the little chick to eat her pizza.

Yes, as in "I want you to eat this bit of pizza, and then I will give you more broccoli."

I think it was probably the ranch dressing. I guess if I would have just put that on the pizza I wouldn't have had any trouble at all....

Jet Lag

So, jet lag is a bit of a killer.

There were a lot of 4 AM mornings for me last week, which is part of the reason that there were not a lot of blog entries. Jet lag is tricky when you're an adult who understands it and even should be well-traveled enough to have some tricks to deal with it. It seems, though, that it can be even more complex when you're three, and you Daddy is telling you it's time to sleep but your body is pretty sure that's not quite right.

Anyways, the week went really well - some great time with family, wonderful visits with friends, a few junior bacon cheeseburgers and Jon & Erin's wedding was great.

Needless to say, the little chick was more or less the star of the show. Well, except for Erin, but that's probably how it should be.

She was the flower girl, and she had an amazing little princess dress that my mom found for her, complete with veil, and some beautiful little white shoes with light but colorful embroidery on them. Her hair was after-the-bath curly, and she was in a pretty great mood. Our multiple practices of walking down the aisle the night before paid off, and when her turn came, she looked a bit nervous but walked down slowly, just like she was supposed to, helped to keep track of her cousin, who was the ring-bearer, and made her way to the front.

Then she saw me, and in the quiet of anticipation for the bride, this little voice rang out "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" as she threw herself up onto the stage and into my arms. It was amazing.

I took some pictures.... these are my favorites, but you can see the rest here.

Good Little Traveler

A while ago, I was considering joining a blues band. I don't know what I was thinking... I really don't like blues. I guess I just like to play; thankfully, the band never got off the ground, so it saved me the trouble of having to figure it out the hard way.

Anyways, I thought that "Good Little Traveler" would be a great name for a blues band. And it's based, as you may have guessed, on the little chick.

Well, we're in Canada now, which is what reminded me of this. She did great on the flight, but it was almost a close call. Even though I bought an adult ticket and an accompanying child at the same time, they had our seats reserved for a dozen rows apart.

"Why," you ask? Who knows.

Anyways, the guy at the Geneva airport noticed it, but didn't have access to the Air Canada seat system, so sent a message on to Frankfurt. When I got there, they managed to get us in two aisle seats, one behind the other. I guess if I would have waited, I could have flagged down an attendant to try to change the seating, but I figured I'd give it a go, first. I thought maybe we could sit side by side in the middle section, and the person who had a middle seat beside me would be happy to trade for an aisle in the row in front. Ideally, we could even trade out to a side section where there are only 2 seats... much easier to keep the little chick contained if there's a wall on the other side.

So, it turns out that asking older Germans to trade seats is kind of a pointless exercise. They either didn't understand why I felt I needed to be next to my three year-old daughter, or they grasped that, but failed to see what it had to do with them. I tried a few people, and no one was willing to part with their previously-assigned seat. Alrighty, then.

Eventually, I noticed a woman in the side section a few rows in front of us. I went and asked her if she spoke English... and she did.

Good start.

I explained what had happened, and asked if she'd be willing to take one of our seats. She said "of course" and, in fact, was packing up and ready to go before I even finished explaining. Then I just hoped the other person who was supposed to be by a window would be just as understanding.

Thankfully, she was. She said she was flying solo on this trip, but had had the same thing happen with her kids before, and was happy to help. And the little chick did just great.

So it makes me wonder... when they get two tickets booked at the same time, on the same credit card, do they do some kind of seat lottery to see where to put them? Or was there someone who looked at our names and ages, and figured that I might like to have a break on this flight? Either way, it seems a bit strange. I'm glad it worked out.

We're enjoying being back... and, despite the jet lag, have had a wonderful couple of days so far. I think it's going to be a good week.

How have you been?

Happy Birthday...

... Little Chick. I love you.

Modesty

The little chick has been working on using the toilet. She did it quite a while ago, for a few days, and then lost interest and really didn't want to try again. She's decided now, though, that it's time, and she's doing very, very well.

On the first train-ride home with me after she began, she told me she wanted to show me her underwear. I explained that it was wonderful that she wasn't wearing a diaper, and I was very proud and very excited and we would be sure to marvel at her diaperless-ness once we got home, but that the train was not a great place to do that. Still, it was beautiful.

And I thought it was interesting, that both kinds of modesty - whether or not it's okay to be naked and whether or not it's okay to brag about what you've got going on - are learned, or, at least, develop over time.

Yeah, I know.... you were expecting some kind of catchy phrase or, at least, a point at the end. I don't have one. I just thought it was interesting.

Create

I am in a deeply creative mood today... tried to go out to take some pictures at lunch, and couldn't find good light anywhere. Aaargh!

Tonight I will edit some pictures, I will play my bass, I will sing... it's going to be good. I can't wait to get some of this out, to do something wonderful with it. It's funny though, how it comes and goes... I hope that someday I can develop some discipline, not to bring down the peaks, but to try and limit the impact of the valleys.

Oh, and I may have found the hardest thing in the world. It's having a little girl in bed, in tears, saying, "Daddy, come back... Daddy, need a hug" and not going in every time. It kills me, and even though I know she needs to learn to sleep well, every fiber in my being wants to hug her and comfort her and give her that sense of being treasured, protected, and loved, more than anything in the world.

Three Tales of Wonder and Suspense

I'm really, really tired.

I'm home again, and, as I guess it should be, the plane ride was exhausting. The new iPod made the cut, and I was listening to tunes and playing a little solitaire for a good portion of the trip, and the battery held out like a champ. Nice.

So, I have a few things to tell you about.

The first isn't about this trip - actually, it was on the way back from Calgary at Christmas. I hadn't had a Ceaser while I was there, and it seemed like a bit of a shame. It's a drink that was invented there (at Ceaser's steak house), and it's a combination of spicy clamato juice (tomato with "essence of clam" or something... I'm not exactly sure, and have been hesitant to dig much further than that into what actually goes into the bottle), with a little bit of tabasco, some vodka, lemon, and salt and pepper.

Anyways, on the plane, if you ask nicely and get the right attendant, they'll mix some drinks for you, but this one is usually a little bit complex to try for when they still have 200 people to serve. So, I asked for tomato juice and vodka. And the stewardess nodded, grabbed three vodkas, and held them out. I assumed that one was for me and that a couple other people had asked for the same thing. So I took one.

And she didn't move. She just kept looking at me.

I wasn't sure exactly what to do. I mean, I didn't want to seem ungrateful. I must admit, though, that I didn't really need three vodkas. And I was a little unsure as to what it was about my appearance that made her take one look at me and think, "here's a guy who obviously needs a triple". So, I took one more, let her keep the third, and gave her a look that was, I hope, an appropriate mix of genuine appreciation and mild disdain.

That's completely unrelated to the next story, but, in a kind of charming way, that complete lack of common context (other than me) is the thread that ties - or, I guess, doesn't tie - all three stories together.

The little chick has a cold. A nasty cold. She's coughing a lot, which scares her, because sometimes in the past, she's coughed hard enough to make herself throw up. Not much fun, and when you're 2, it can make a common cold a rather scary thing. For a while, she actually associated "sick" to throwing up, so if I asked her if she felt sick, she would just say "no", in the hopes that, if she didn't admit to it, her lunch would stay where it was supposed to.

So she wasn't her usual self during the day. I was happy to see her after not much time together lately, and she was happy to see me, too, but she wasn't sure what to do with herself. We played with Lego a lot. We played with Veggie Tales. We watched some movies. We built a tent in the living room and sat in there with some popcorn to watch our movies. We read stories. We fed her baby. And we a lot of had tea parties with a tea set she got for Christmas.

And we did each of these things for about 45 seconds before moving on to the next one. Cold = short attention span, it turns out. The funny thing is that she likes to get things cleaned up before starting something new (hooray for that, I say), so we actually spent most of the day putting toys away. Oh well - she didn't seem to mind.

It got tricky at night, though. She was having a lot of trouble sleeping. So she would lay in bed, be okay for a while, and then start to cough, and she would call out to me, "Allison coughing more! Daddy, need a hug and a kiss. " So I would go and try to comfort her, give her a kiss and a hug, sometimes lay down with her to try to help her sleep. And when I did, she would put both of her hands in mine, and then wiggle up close to me until her forehead was touching mine, and she would try to sleep like that. It was a little sad, but it was beautiful.

And it made me think... If I feel it this deeply when my daughter has a cough and can't sleep, how would I be able to handle it if something was seriously wrong? My cousin's little boy had leukemia. I can't begin to imagine how that would feel, how I could try to care for her in that. I just can't get my mind around it. It would be devastating.

And (here's part III) today, at work, I saw something kind of cool. We had some network issues - I guess a router went down. So one of our IT guys came out from Lausanne to fix it, but since they needed some replacement hardware, he had one of the guys from the hardware people come out to give him a hand.

Now, this guy is usually very quiet. Not that he won't talk, but he doesn't choose to talk much. But once those two got together... wow. He was chatty, laughing, making jokes, and just generally showing a kind of confidence that I've never seen him show before. It was really cool. It was really, really different.

And that made me wonder. Is he just usually quiet because nobody around him really speaks his language?

And how many people around me every day are in that same situation, where they just feel like they can't be themselves because they don't really believe that anybody gets them? How many people never get to really open up? Tricky.

It's a lot to think about when I'm jet-lagged and running on a couple hours' sleep. But still, worth thinking about.

Tomorrow.

I Have A Cold

... and I'm giving training to a room full of people. It's good - I like that a lot of people are there to hear me (it makes me feel popular, and is cheaper than standing outside the cinema offering to buy tickets for whoever wants to come in). But it's tiring, and when talking is tough and thinking is tougher, doing the kind of training I'm doing can be a bit of a challenge.

Nonetheless, I am going to give it my best shot. Or something approaching it.

The other thing is, I miss the little chick. A lot.

People ask me a lot about being a parent, what it's like, how it feels. And the fact is, it's not easy. It's also draining, and when she wants attention, she doesn't really care if I have a cold or not. But it's love... an unending chance to show and learn love, and, sometimes, even to have it returned.

So I miss her. I wish I could put her on my shoulders and wander through the streets singing with her. I wish she was close enough for me to take pictures of. I want to hear, "Daddy play, too?". I want to sing her to sleep.

Soon.


In the meantime, I'm going for sushi.

Traveling Man

Well, I'm home again, but just barely. I got back on Saturday, and head out again tomorrow morning to be working in the US for a couple of weeks. I've been more or less on Calgary time since getting here, so it won't be too hard to re-adjust, I hope. Packing is easier, since I'm not quite completely unpacked yet. Hooray.

I've spent the day with an also jet-lagged little chick... she wasn't around on Monday, so I took today off instead, and when she gets it, I can see a bit of a family resemblance: she gets a little weepy, isn't quite sure what she wants to eat, and wants a lot of cuddling. Thankfully, all things we can deal with. I think that "Hug!" was the word that she said the most today, and I figure that for a two year-old, that's not too bad.

The reason I thought of writing this (besides the fact that it's been way too long and I need to get in the groove of posting again) is because I saw a really interesting guy on the train. He was talking animatedly to the man next to him, gesticulating all over the place, and they were both laughing. Then (I guessed - I was listening to the new Carrie Underwood album) his phone rang. And he had the coolest case on it... it looked like a wooden, fold-up measuring stick, what they use here instead of tape measures. He talked some then put it away. Then it went again. And again.

And again.

And, eventually, I realized that it wasn't a phone camouflaged as a measuring stick. It was a measuring stick.

And he was crazy.

Still, he was fun to watch. And I couldn't help but wonder if train isn't, perhaps, the perfect form of travel - at least in Switzerland. I mean, when you drive, you never get to see crazy people. Either that or, if you happen to be related to one, you see a little too much of them. On the plane, there are far fewer than on the train; or maybe it's just my Geneva-Lugano route - it could be that if I was flying NY-San Fran I would meet a few of the more interesting kind.

So, I'm off tomorrow morning. In seat 24c. And I'm hoping to get someone with an imaginary cell phone in 24a, mostly just cause I can't imagine how the attendants would handle it...

Do It Like This

The little chick is becoming more and more articulate, and more concrete in her ideas, and it's wonderful to see. In some ways, it's tricky that she's entered that stage where she wants things done just so ("No, Daddy, not like that!"), but I'm really glad that she can tell me about it.

One of the more interesting manifestations has been over the last week and half as we've been visiting my family. She has, at some points, been actually jumping up and down, she's so happy to see them. I love it. There have been a lot of songs, a lot of dancing, and about a bizillion hugs. And while a fair number of them have been preceded by "Awwww, Daddy.....", there has been an interesting new development.

"No, Daddy - go on couch!"

"No Daddy - close eyes!"

"No Daddy - go over there!"

As she's been playing with my brothers, she's decided that, sometimes, I'm just kind of in the way. So she directs me... to go back to the couch, to have a nap, or to stand in the kitchen for a while, so she can play undisturbed. I guess if it was all the time, I'd be a bit disturbed, but as it is, I think it's beautiful. Beautiful to see her growing in confidence, to see her wanting to show that she can do it on her own, and, in the end, beautiful to see her come running back to me with a giant hug.

Beautiful.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things

Many of you have probably heard me say that there is nothing in the world that could make me sing songs from The Sound Of Music.

Well, I was wrong.

The little chick has wanted, lately, to sing "Do, A Deer". And so we have spent a lot of time (much of it with her on my shoulders, walking around Geneva) singing just like Julie. She's a little sketchy on the words, and I have trouble remembering if "so" or "te" is first, but we get by. So, yeah... turns out that there is one thing that can make me do it. Or maybe I should say at least one. I've learned my lesson, and there will be no more premature statements from me... ever.

And that got me thinking of a few of my favorite things when it comes time to pack up to go back to the Great White North for Christmas. So, in no particular order, here they are:

• Jeans - I spend a lot of time in jeans, even at work. I like it. I have two favorite pairs: one big, one skinny. I'll take them both with me.
• Red scarf - this was a gift from a friend and TYC reader, and I get compliments on it most times I'm out. I don't wear it much when it's really cold, because my warm coats are really warm... adding a scarf is like putting maple syrup on chocolate cake... it may be kind of nice, but you don't really need it.
• Flaming Chucks - when I first bought my flaming Converse All Stars, I wasn't sure when I would ever wear them. I mean, when is it really appropriate to wear shoes that look kind of like a 40's hot rod? Turns out that, when worn with confidence, they work for almost anything, and I've probably gotten more compliments on these than anything else I 0wn. So, they're coming with.
• Skinny sweaters - I still have a few bulky ones around, but most of the sweaters I wear now are made to fit under a jacket. My favorite is a fitted grey v-neck with disproportionately long arms. I don't have anything else that is quite the same shape, but I dig it.
• Jackets - to go over the sweaters. I spend a lot of time in a couple of nicely cut corduroy ones, one black, one almost-brown/almost green. And, on special occasions, the blue velvet comes out. Look out, baby!
• Tees - a couple fitted ones to go under the sweaters that go under the jackets. And a few other fun ones... my current favorites are a bright green Abercrombie one with Adam and Eve on it, a mustard Beastie Boys, and a gray Ben Harper one with his head with a giant 'fro on the front.
• Big red coat - known to all close to me as "the big red coat", this thing deserves its own name. It's made for going to really, really cold places, but I like wearing it in just kind-of cold places with just a t-shirt underneath. It's like wearing a warm shower. Beautiful.
  

Okay, this one is blue, but you get the idea.

I look like the Michelin man when I wear it, and have had strangers walk up and poke me.

• Black shirt - as I've mentioned before, black shirts work for me, and I love my synthetic one... I couldn't wrinkle it if my life depended on it, so it's great for traveling.

What are your "must-pack" items?