Rookie Dad: How to decorate for Christmas with a two year old

It's official. As of about two weeks ago The Youngling officially turned two years old. While that means a visit to the doctor next week where she'll be pricked with a few needles, weighed, scrutinized and measured, it also means that she's up to more hijinx than ever before.

Her latest adventures have included climbing up on to the toilet and exploring the treasures that await her in the over-the toilet cabinet, grabbing Christmas ornaments off the tree and proudly presenting them to anyone paying attention and pulling dining room chairs in to the kitchen and exploring everything on the counter and playing with knives.

The whole playing with knives thing has the wife worried and I know I should be more concerned as well but she's only ventured in to Ginsu territory. Contrary to the ads touting the cutting ability of Ginsu knives, these knives require a fair amount of pressure to actually accomplish some slicing. Nobody actually holds a Ginsu, throws a pineapple up in the air and slices it in half, that would break a Ginsu. So the knives, at least the Ginsu knives, don't worry me. Especially being that I've never cut myself with a Ginsu so how could it possibly be bad for a toddler to occasionally be holding a knife?

Outside of dangerous things, The Youngling is in the midst of experiencing her first "active" Christmas. Last year she was still in full-on crawling mode but this time around she is running, climbing and talking. Particularly amusing to her was last weekend as the two of us spent Saturday together decorating the yard for Christmas. I spent part of the day hauling penguins, Santa, reindeer, toy soldiers and bags of cords and tangled Christmas lights from the basement. With each giant plastic figurine she saw, The Youngling giggled gleefully, pointed at the figurine, touched it and proudly demanded "more, more!" as she ran around while I drug these dusty treasures from the basement through the house out to the front porch.

More fun came in seeing just what kind of focus a two year old has when it comes to following directions. As I strung lights up along our fence, I asked The Youngling to stay at least in the same area of the yard as I was in. Instead, after I focused for a minute on the task at hand then looked around to find the giddy two year old, I instead saw nothing. No child to be seen, just snow. Displeased with this development, I trudged around the side of the house and knew immediately to look in the porch where I found her having an impromptu tea party with her tiny mitten-covered hands fumbling with tea cups. This activity was soon replaced with her pushing a Tonka-like truck through the light covering of snow and in to my tangle of lights.

All told, I think I did a fair job handling the Christmas decorating tasks and The Youngling still has to peek out the second floor window overlooking the front yard every night to see Santa's village in the yard.

Rookie Dad: Just call her Hercules

It was Tuesday night when I laughed at what The Youngling did. After some brute force tugging and prying, she finally opened the refrigerator door. Then it dawned on me that she opened the refrigerator door. It instantly went from "Oh, that's sooo cute" to "Oh crap, how are we going to keep her out of the refrigerator?"

The rest of the evening we kept her occupied in other rooms of the house and silently hoped that she'd forget about the adventures that awaited her inside the refrigerator.

Then came a text message as I left the office Wednesday afternoon. "Had to tape the fridge shut, she won't stay out of it". I knew that this would not be good. It's like that coming day that many parents dread -- the day their child learns how to work door knobs and goes sprinting outside in to the elements wearing nothing but a diaper.

When I arrived home I had a good laugh at the new masking tape latch which the wife had installed while I was grocery shopping. It definitely took our ghetto-ness to the next level. All we need now is a car up on blocks in the front yard for The Youngling to climb all over and our transition is complete.

In all seriousness though, how long does the incessant exploring last? Last night she actually got the refrigerator open even with the makeshift tape latch haphazardly in place and proceeded to sprint through the house recklessly carrying a Gladware container of peaches... upside down. That mess would have been worse that Monday night's Mandarin oranges on the white area rug.

Oh well, you can replace home furnishings but you can't replace a childhood.

Rookie Dad: Five reasons why I couldn't be a stay-at-home dad

I took some vacation time this week and that means staying at home (for the most part) with my nearly two year-old daughter. Anyone out there with a child knows how much of a handful a child of that age can be. For whatever reason, mothers seem to be able to handle the kids better. Maybe it goes waaaaaaay back to the stone age where women raised the brood and the men hunted and gathered.

While The Youngling is still very much alive and happy, I know that her mother would handle things far better than I do. Which brings me to the five reasons I've noticed thus far (one day in) that I couldn't be a stay-at-home dad.

5.) This reason just walked in to my office and piled its supporting evidence on me. I can't get much done because this week The Youngling has an obsession with cereal and as I'm typing this she has just piled two boxes of it on me and another two boxes alongside my keyboard. I don't know how children seem to survive for days at a time on nothing but cereal but The Youngling is walking that line right now.

4.) Showering is a problem. I like to sleep. It's a necessity for all and a burden for some but I flat out enjoy it. I slept this morning until about 7:15 when I heard the all-too-common whining coming from the adjacent bedroom and knew it was time to get up -- which I did. But I still needed to shower. Even though I'm not going anywhere where anyone would care about my funky odor I still feel the need to bathe. So what's a guy to do?

3.) I don't understand "The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" but it captivates children. It also allows me to tend to item number four. I've done it more than once. I sit The Youngling on the big bed and flip the TV in the bedroom to The Disney Channel and she will sit motionless but laughing and talking for a half hour at a time and that's more than enough time for me to remove said funk from my body. While the electronic babysitter is a wonderful aid to my morning routine I cringe every time I hear that Hot Dog, Hot Dog, Hot Diggity Dog song at the end of the episode.

2.) I miss people. Oh sure, I've talked to some random strangers while pulling The Youngling around in her wagon during out outings but I miss real conversation about things I care about and things I can relate to. Yeah, the weather is an excellent topic of conversation because it's non-offensive, safe and sure to be a short conversation but for once I'd love to strike up a conversation with someone I meet on a sidewalk about something controversial or even offensive like racism or same-sex marriage but most people would quickly resume walking and while I was stopped The Youngling would probably jump out of her wagon and dart off in to the street.

1.) It's tough taking photos while holding a child. Photography is one of my hobbies and I like partaking in it while using my vacation time. That has changed, though, with a child latched to my side. Sure, she can walk just fine but she rarely walks -- it's more of a slow sprint and that means she can get to places where she shouldn't be in very little time and I don't want to be that guy who has to call in a report of a missing toddler and explain how I was too busy taking photos to keep a close eye on The Youngling.

With all of those excuses out in the open I hope that my gracious employer will welcome me back on Monday because while I don't mind dealing with a plethora of dirty diapers and hours of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse I'd much rather be in my cubicle where there are surprisingly few diapers.

Rookie Dad: She wants to tea party all the time

I am by no means a machine. Last time I was at the doctor it was confirmed that I am, in fact, human and it's a well-known fact that humans need sleep. That's exactly what I did late in the day Sunday after spending too much time in the sweltering heat that is a Minnesota summer.

My first mistake was thinking that I could take a nap in the general vicinity of a sugared-up toddler. My second mistake was thinking that she would take the hint that a lifeless lump isn't meant to be played with. Wrong again.

After catching a solid four minutes of sleep I awoke to The Youngling climbing on me like I was a jungle gym. As usual, she had her Beauty and the Beast tea set in hand. She obviously had a hankering for a tea party whether or not her dad was awake.

So I laid there and took it. I thought that she would eventually crawl off and bother her other parent but I was wrong again. She proceeded to dump out each and ever plate and tea cup from that oversized tea pot and toss them about. I'm fairly certain that she went as far as setting things up properly but maybe got frustrated that her dad was having no part of this tea party because eventually she swatted the items all around and went as far as wedging some of the cups under my side making my attempt at a nap even more impossible.

After twenty minutes of this I finally caved and sat up. It was time for a tea party.

Rookie Dad: Beer budget, champagne tastes

The long weekend led to whole host of discoveries involving The Youngling.

The first discovery was that not only does she despise lakes, pools and sprinklers; the sandy shores of lakes enrage her. I have never seen a child so totally afraid of sand. It was both sad and hilarious.

Carrying her as she held on like she was being dangled above a pit of red hot lava with her short legs folded up, screaming the entire time. Needless to say, we never even bothered to put her little swimsuit on and she has yet to know what it's like to dip her toes in a lake.

The second discovery a few hours later that same day was that you do not wake her up, she wakes up on her own. This mistake led to nearly-bleeding ears as The Youngling shrieked, screamed and bawled for nearly 30 minutes. The crying got to such a level that she was shaking and I'm pretty sure that some dogs in the neighborhood were seeking soundproof shelter because that high decibel noise is nothing short of painful.

The final discovery was that she has rather spendy tastes. I've chronicled how little and how infrequently it seems that she eats but yesterday was a different story. As I sat eating my New York Strip which I painstakingly cooked in the dripping humidity in my back yard, The Youngling climbed up next to me after she had been fed/finished eating her lunch. Then she proceeded to grab my broccoli and eat more of that than I got to eat. Not satisfied having deprived her dad of half of his vegetables, she first pointed at the piece of New York Strip then grabbed it.

I gently pried the beef from her hand and put it back on my plate and quickly cut off a small piece which she greedily stuffed in to her tiny mouth. To my surprise, she chewed the piece of steak up like she had never eaten food before. She didn't spit it out, she didn't run away, she wanted more. So I kept repeating the process and gave her pieces of my expensive steak until she quit showing interest. That's when I realized that while we have a beer budget, The Youngling has champagne tastes. Maybe she can get by like Garfield the cat's nemesis, Nermal, and people will just give her stuff for being cute. If that's the case, may I suggest more New York Strip?

Rookie Dad: The problem with sprinklers

Saturday was a big production for The Youngling. She finally got to play with a toddler much closer to her age outside of our house. I don't really know if she was excited but based on how soundly she slept as we drove to our friends' house, she was thrilled.

In preparation for this big summer outdoor playdate, we even went the extra mile and had her practice up because based on the weather forecast for Saturday, it was going to be warm. Practice wasn't some grueling marathon or a series of wind sprints or even something like painting her nails. Practice consisted solely of running through the sprinkler. As easy as that sounds, a 19 month-old isn't exactly willing to run through rather chilling water flying at her.

Practice didn't go well. Following far too many minutes of shrieking, screaming and downright bawling, it was time for her to hit the showers and focus on Saturday's big event.

Once the kids had played for a couple hours on Saturday, it was time for the sprinkler. My friend and fellow dad dutifully drug the hose in to the back yard while the kids were changed in to their swim wear. I hoped for the best but I'm a realist so I knew to expect crying, screaming, shrieking and general anti-water behavior.

I was right. The older kids - mainly 3-5 year olds - splashed, ran, stomped, giggled and thrashed about as the sprinkled slowly turned a portion of the lawn in to something akin to a mud wrestling pit but the majority of the kids kept right on playing while The Youngling shied away from such excitement but slowly got more curious.

In the end she never ventured in to the streams of the sprinkler. Maybe next year things will change but she has won this round.

Rookie Dad: The kid who hated eating

I have more grey hairs than I did two years ago and I find plenty of food on my jeans. But enough about my stressful eating habits. My daughter is nearly 19 months old and is back to having to be fed by her parents and she knows we'll do it for her. Why? Because she is a tiny manipulator.

The Youngling is as cute as a whole truckload of buttons but the problem is that she knows it. She is already using her stunning good looks to her advantage and that is never good. Before she has turned two and before she has truly begun to talk she is already a tiny diva. I've heard stories about how she makes little boys her age do what she wants for her. If that isn't a glimpse in to the future, I don't know what is.

But this isn't about her manipulating of the tiny males around her. This is about her eating habits. I'll just say that I don't view obesity as ever being a problem for her because, from what I understand, obese people usually eat. This eating thing is something that The Youngling rarely eats in my presence. Last night was especially tough as we actually held her down and put food in her tiny, angry mouth. Lately her eating habits include sitting for about two minutes (actually eating some) and then running around with us increasingly frazzled parents stuffing food in to her mouth as she sprints by.

I don't usually compare notes with other parents because I have other, more important things to talk about like what I'm having for lunch and the status of my shoes (disintegrating) but her eating habits are disturbing. Obviously, based on her steady weight, she is actually eating at some point and the pediatrician said that the whole not eating thing is normal but I'd love for her to eat at least a couple meals each day (maybe even sit for the entirety of them). Maybe some meat in her diet because as delicious as fruit is, it's not exactly rich in protein.

I'm sure this will all work out in the end but I've gone as far as having a sit-down conversation with the toddler where I discussed how if she doesn't eat she's going to be the first toddler to starve with a full plate of food sitting right in front of her. I've suggested a pudding and yogurt diet because those are her favorites but that idea was quickly shot down by the wiser parent.

Rookie Dad: The zoo turned out to be a real zoo

A child's life is filled with firsts. This is especially obvious during those first few years. So far, The Youngling has experienced her first birthday, a couple of Christmases, Easters, Thanksgivings and her first wagon ride. She's also experienced her first instance of floor-covering vomit. That's one first I'd rather forget. But in the tradition of good firsts, we headed to the Minnesota Zoo in Apple Valley last Sunday where we met up with a gaggle of our friends and their kids. All told, our herd consisted of a dozen youngsters ranging from a year old to eight years old.

All of the kids seemed to have fun but mine seemed to be the most awestruck by the animals. It only seems fitting, I guess, because her bedroom in decorated in an animal theme including a bunch of photos we took many years ago while vacationing in our country's 50th state.

The Youngling was a force to be reckoned with as we made our way through the outdoor exhibits at the zoo. Knowing that the real fun was best seen on foot, she constantly stood up in her stroller to get a better view and make her grand escape. Sure, her constant horseplay could have been remedied by simply buckling her in to the stroller but that would put me among the ranks of overprotective parents who constantly use the safety precautions at their fingertips and I am definitely not that guy.

So the battle to keep her in the stroller ended in a compromise. She walked for a while where there was less traffic to get in her way and she somewhat willingly rode in her stroller when we got close to something cool to see.

I honestly don't remember what she was most impressed with but she did get to see the goats up close and based on her growling like a bear more than once the following day I'd have to assume that the grizzly bears - who were fighting for the audience - made a lasting impression on her young mind. But the best had to be her take on what monkeys sound like. Maybe she had heard me imitate monkey sounds before or maybe The Youngling was mocking her old dad. Whatever the case, I'm sure that we'll eventually be back at the Minnesota Zoo because she still gets in for free for another year and a half and that's a price everyone can agree on!

Rookie Dad: With the wave of her hand

It's been a period of milestones for The Youngling. Just last week - at the ripe old age of 16 months - she was placed on her potty chair and used it. A day before that her pacifiers vanished and both parents survived the ensuing rampages and refusals to nap.

But the big story was how, as the photo above shows, she single-handedly held back the rising waters of the Minnesota River with nothing but her hand. She's a magical little girl who, not unlike the Dutch boy with his finger plugging a hole in the dam, is all about doing her part to help neighborhoods and cities at risk from rising flood waters.

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure that The Youngling actually understood why dad was so crabby after he returned home late each day or why she hasn't crossed her favorite bridge for a few weeks but she is definitely enjoying the great outdoors and whether it's walking with a grown-up, cruising down the sidewalks in her stroller or being pulled around in her little red wagon, she can't get enough fresh air.

That fresh air must be addictive because even as darkness was setting in on Saturday, the demanding little lady knew that she wanted to see what was happening around the neighborhood so we caved and pushed the stroller down those all too familiar sidewalks once again before settling the now pacifier-free tike in to her crib which she, thankfully, hasn't learned how to climb out of - yet.

Rookie Dad: It was just a cookie

As I sometimes do, I was giving The Youngling a bath last night. It's a common occurrence after a messy supper as it's both necessary and easier than an extensive clean-up.

After the tub's water was up to the appropriate level I lifted the little girl into the excessively large tub and she proceeded to splash around and throw her duckies. That's when I noticed a certain matter at the bottom of the tub. Having seen her poop in the tub once before (which is one time too many) I quickly flipped the lever for the drain and snatched her from the tub.

I'm a pro at this procedure so I quickly cleaned the tub and refilled it with a towel-draped toddler standing alongside the tub. With water back in the tub, I stood The Youngling back in the tub, she walked around some then sat down and begin splashing again.

That's when I noticed a substance on the edge of the tub. I chalked this up to a toddler's possible curiosity but something about the color just didn't add up. Being either extremely brave or extremely stupid I leaned in for the classic sniff test. Having a full stomach this might not have been the brightest idea I have ever hatched but I did it anyway.

I immediately felt like an idiot. The mystery substance on the side of the tub wasn't poop. Instead, it was peanut butter. I quickly deduced that the particles in the water was logically the remnants of a Nutter Butter which The Youngling had been munching on for her dessert. So I had been fooled by a 16 month old and a cookie. I guess I'll have to do a thorough pat down before she gets in to the tub from now on to make sure she's not not smuggling cookies.

Rookie Dad: Cookie Monster's crazy eyes

Crazy eyes have always intimidated me. Sometimes it's a blank look in them, other times they are so intense that they could burn through steel. Then there are the crazy eyes of a near-15 month-old girl who sees her dad walk in to the living room late on a Sunday afternoon with a stack of Generic Chocolate Sandwich Cookies (not Oreos) and a cold glass of milk for a snack.

That's how it all began. I wasn't quite cowering in the corner in fear but The Youngling's eyes were so huge. She didn't blink as she made her way around the coffee table and towards me. She had a determined look on her face that I had never seen before. It looked like she was practically a robot whose setting got turned to "eat cookies" mode. I knew that she wanted the cookies so I began stuffing all I could in to my mouth. I'm all for sharing but even at 15 months she needs to learn that some things just don't get shared -- especially dad's cookies.

But even without elaborating, you can already guess how this story ends.

The Youngling won the battle as I sat paralyzed by her crazy eyes, unblinking in their freakishness. I willingly handed over one not-an-Oreo and she went on her way. Toddling around the coffee table and couches in the living room, pausing only to rub her chocolatey face on the cushions to get mom's attention. Maybe it's time she learns to keep food in the dining room.

Rookie Dad: The words coming out of her mouth

The Youngling is fast approaching 15 months of age and I'm surprised by this. No, not because of my shoddy parenting, lack of experience or my hands-off approach towards child care but instead I'm surprised by the milestones and how they just seem to blend in to the day to day happenings. It's not that I expected party horns to go off or confetti to drop from the ceiling each time she did something new and impressive but I thought that these milestones would stand out more to me.

I do remember a few things like when her birthday is because that day was rather long. I also remember her first unassisted steps (New Year's Eve). However, when asked by my wife when she said her first word and when it was, I could only answer half of the question with some degree of precision. I knew her first word - ar at least what I assume to be a word - was one mid-December morning while getting her dressed when she said "tired". Or at least something sounding like "tired" but my ears rarely fail me so "tired" goes down as her first word. Not exactly a common first word but mine was "tractor" so maybe common isn't her thing either.

Since that point, though, The Youngling has been lacking (in my opinion) in milestones. Oh sure, she can climb the stairs at a frighteningly fast pace which has evolved in to her not using her knees. Yes, she actually climbs as well as a sub-three-foot-tall person can climb anything. Getting back down those same stairs requires help and probably will for a while.

But back to her words. I'm impressed that her first word wasn't one of George Carlin's Seven Words You Can't Say on TV because even the best parents (which I don't claim to be) let things slip and little ears absorb everything. More impressive is the fact that she's now trying to say "cheese". The only problem is that it sounds more like "chias" which I assume are still available at Pamida and Osco Drug stores.

I'm confident that she'll be walking on her own in no time and then I'll wish she'd go back to crawling because it's easier to catch a kid on all fours.

Rookie Dad: The quirks

Watching The Youngling grow up for the past 13+ months has let me witness her strange tendencies develop and flourish. One of her more recent quirks is paying a lot of attention to one of our two cats. She quickly grew sick of simply petting the cat and moved on to using the cat as a sort of pillow to lean back on. This action took the cat by surprise but she must have decided that some attention - regardless of the pain involved - is better than none.

The newest quirk involving that same cat is The Youngling chasing it. Even though she's still a crawler she keeps pace nicely with this fast but fat cat. She even nudges the cat's progress forward sometimes. Call it headbutting or bulldozing but she has a habit of putting her head down and pushing the cat with it no matter what part of the cat she makes contact with. This is particularly disturbing when she plants her head squarely against the cat's butt and pushes like the little 20-pound bulldozer she thinks she is. That part of the act has been discouraged which is greeted with her latest quirk.

Shaking her head "no". That one came about early last week while her mom was getting her dressed for the day and, well, if imitation is the sincerest form of flattery then The Youngling's mom should be flattered for life as the little mimmick endlessly shakes her head "no" sometimes. I wonder if it makes her dizzy or if she realizes what the action she's mimicking really means. I'm guessing no on both accounts.