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.