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.

Rookie Dad: I've never seen so much snot

It's not like The Youngling has never been sick. No, indeed. This is the second time that the little destroyer has found herself with a cold and this one is a big one. I think I counted a dozen sneezes in a three hour period this weekend. All but one resulted in gobs of snot pouring out of her tiny nose. To make matters worse, she has developed a disdain for her old man after I've had to wipe her nose just shy of a hundred times in recent days.

Each time I hear a sneeze, and I hear then from two or three rooms away sometimes, I reluctantly grab a tissue and plod through the house careful to look under tables where she may be hiding. She knows what happened and she wants it gone. That's obvious by her wiping her nose on her hand, her sleeve, the couch, my sweatshirt, my coat, mom's face or the rug. But when she sees that white tissue careening towards her it's like Kryptonite. The Youngling wiggles and scoots away and begins screaming. Hey, I don't like doing this any more than she likes having it done but the snot isn't going away on its own so it needs to happen.

I don't beat around the bush when on snot patrol. With one hand on the back of her head, I pinch my fingers together on the outside of the tissue and hope that I've made some progress and she shakes her head and tries to wriggle out from under my not-so-gentle wiping. I've come to grips that this is the first of many year of my daughter hating me. Until she needs some of my non-existent money, then I'll be the bestest dad in the whole entire world. But I'm not holding my breath on that one.

Rookie Dad: The box is more exciting than the gift

By a child's second Christmas, that particular child should be able to open his or her Christmas presents without assistance. I have that sort of high expectations - even though The Youngling is a mere 13 months old. She is already getting in to everything in the house and seems almost passionate about destroying things - particularly photo album pages - so why shouldn't she be eager to tear through some colorful wrapping paper and find a box waiting inside that's far more entertaining that the toy it holds?
Maybe my expectations about The Youngling's dexterity and eagerness to shred paper are lofty but that little girl is ahead of the curve - even if she isn't walking unassisted yet and is stuck at having only five teeth.

But we've planned ahead for her love of everything but toys as presents. I'm fairly certain that everything under the tree is a box full of random bits destined for the recycling bin: soda bottles, empty soup cans and a couple of graham cracker boxes. We've even (well I have) planned ahead for her lack of ambition when it comes to tearing off wrapping paper - I've pre-tore most of the paper on her gifts so she can easily get to those boxes and bits of recycling material. I'm all about boosting that little lady's ego.

Rookie Dad: It's been a year

It was a year ago yesterday when The Youngling finally graced us with her presence. I won't go in to alot of details from that day other than to say that the 22 hours leading up to her birth was, well, lengthy. I don't care to ever sleep in a hospital room recliner again. It's just not as comfortable as you think it would be.

But in the end it was all worth it because we got to see her eat a whole bunch of cake on Sunday. Us and about 20 others, actually. Yes, we broke the big rule that I've seen in parenting newsletters and magazines that says "just have the grandparents there and keep it small, your one year old will be riddled with anxiety and likely cry and crawl in to the corner with a huge crowd around her". Those magazines and newsletters aren't worth the ink or bytes used to create them.

The Youngling showed no signs of anxiety and was totally herself. Right down to refusing to eat anything on a plate. So the cake went directly on the tray of her high chair and she meticulously ate the frosting then got all up in that cake's chocolatey business. The wedge of two-layer cake was eventually smashed in to a gooey mass and she was working on building a coffee grounds-style beard but with cake.

The most impressive fact was that The Youngling kept her hair clean in spite of taunts and encouragement from her aunts to do otherwise. The clean-up was easy, too. Rather than try to clean her with a wash cloth or baby wipes we just gave her a quick bath and got back to the grind of opening her presents. After those hours of excitement she took a three hour nap and we cleaned up cake.

Rookie Dad: She's got her shots

Nobody ever looks forward to shots - unless you truly enjoy pain. I know I don't particularly like shots and I've been know to pass out having blood drawn - I'd make a terrible intravenous drug user. So it's no shock that The Youngling screamed her head off when she got her one year shots earlier this week. I actually did the whole good parent thing and read the information sheet provided for each shot - MMR, Hepatitis A, H1N1 and Chicken Pox.

That's when I was informed that some toddlers get a rash from the MMR shot - it's nothing to worry about and some toddlers have a reaction to the Chicken Pox vaccine a couple weeks out. All in all none of it sounded too bad.

Until the day after the shots when The Youngling was still groggy. One of the shots had caused her to develop a fever which she fought all day long. That particular day ended in a bath to cool her down and a few rounds of infant acetaminophen. She eventually pulled through all of that only to come down with what turned in to a full body rash. It looks like she was wearing carefully applied costume makeup all over her body but I've been reassured that it only lasts a couple days and she'll be back to her normal looking self. Even covered in a rash, The Youngling is still overly huggable and while people were happy to see us parents show up at a couple Thanksgiving shindigs yesterday they were downright overjoyed to see the baby. People cooed and played and crawled with her. Nobody crawled with me or wanted to bounce me on their lap. I'm starting to develop an inferiority complex.