Month 10: Daddy’s Girl
Learnings and observations from my first year of fatherhood.
Day 276: I now see places through the lens of being family-focused, family-tolerant, or family-embargoed. Single people describe them as lame, boring, and fun. But every now and then you get exceptions that please both sides — Ikea and McDonalds are the unicorns.
Day 277: We look at our own parents as if they’ve always had it together. But in reality they slopped shit, changed diapers, lost sleep. They were us. They were and still are figuring it out on the fly. My pops is 70 now, we’re at the ball game and I’m hoping in 35 years this’ll be me and Boops. It’ll mean, all in all, that we did a decent job of raising her.
Day 278: Sometimes Baby amazes us with all these new developments and sometimes, like today, we catch her trying to eat the buttons off her own shirt.
Day 279: I spent the first two years of our relationship thinking Mom didn’t even fart. And yet today I see her put a Maxi pad on, bathroom door wide open, like it ain’t no thang. After birthing there really is nothing left to hold back.
Day 280: Mom insists we close the baby gate at the top of the stairs. Just in case Baby manages to climb out of her crib, crawl to the door, jump, turn the handle and make it to the stairs. All without alerting us. Come on man!
Day 281: Mom has officially stopped night feeds. For the first time since Baby came along, Mom got a full 8 hours of sleep.
Day 282: Using the couch Baby pulled herself up to stand, peeking up, looking for me. *Melt*. She’s growing up so fast.
Day 283: Malls are their own kind of prison. You’re either riding out nap time or killing time before the next nap. Either way parents are droning along, standing in queues for the one elevator. Playing personal shopper for their little ones.
Side note: It feels completely unnecessary for all baby clothes to say — Keep away from fire. If a fire is a blaze, I’m probably saving my Baby, not this onesie.
Day 284: All she wants to eat are fruit pouches and yogurt now. I think she’s too lazy to chew. She just spits out solids or throws them in protest. When parents talk about a developed sense of patience, this must’ve been rooted in their frustrations around feeding.
Day 285: Found this kid’s centre — Luv 2 Play —it’s the type of place you go, when you don’t have kids, that makes you not want to have kids. The misspellings, the colours, the kids; so many kids. The energy is just too much for a Monday. But Baby is happy, so I’m happy. And if you bring a baby, any baby, you get to play Slam Ball for free!
Day 286: Baby ate a felt pad off the floor today. I can’t even blame her, they look like crackers! And at that scale, at that perspective, that low to the ground, I’d probably do the same. Everything is foreign to her. You win Mom, finally, no more socks on the floor.
Day 287: We’re too cheap to buy blackout curtains and instead boarded up the windows with tin foil. Mom is Macgyver, this works like a charm!
Day 288: Mom, thinking this was some sort of growth, pulled out a piece of spinach from Baby’s butt today.
Day 289: Baby throws her body back in disagreement. She missed with the head butt, but did manage to punch me in the eye.
Day 290: No leg days on the weekend. I actually cramped halfway up the stairs and just sat there, with Baby, waiting for the sensation to pass. This is so embarrassing.
Day 291: I want to watch TV and Baby is generally good with it on. If it’s not a cartoon she’s not really into it. But today we have guests coming over and I don’t want to look like a negligent parent. That or be perceived as a villain poisoning their kids. Who knows if this is even allowed back home. I can’t ask either or that just tips my position. Maybe I just play it safe and turn music on.
Day 292: Mom’s reality summed up in this Instagram post she found:
I created you inside my body, lost many nights of sleep and gave birth to you. All for you to look exactly like your dad. Ultimate betrayal.
Day 293: She stops eating when I come home and yells Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba until I pick her up. Quick update on feeding — She’s eating solids again but only if yogurt or fruit puree are used as chasers.
Day 294: Because it’s Valentine’s, we put Baby in the middle of the room and sat at opposite ends to see who she would come to first. She inched to Mom, but shirtless Dad drumming his belly is undefeated. I hope she’ll forever be Daddy’s girl.
Day 295: I came home today and discovered that Baby now slides doors open, switch lights on, and bangs on the crib when she wakes — Pick me up! This all happened today, while I was at work, probably during a meeting talking about poop. Literally poop.
Day 296: She hears the garage door open and crawls from the kitchen to the doorstep. She sits there, just waiting to greet me. I open the door, she waves, and I’m feeling like the luckiest person in the world.
Day 297: It’s Chinese New Year and I’m worried that Chinese culture might die with me. I’m a second generation immigrant and I’m already watered down. But I feel as much of a responsibility to instil history on her as I do anything else. She should know her roots, she should understand her story. She should be proud to be Chinese.
Day 298: I don’t care how strong you are, but curling a Baby for 1.5 hours is a bad idea. I should’ve listened to Mom and opted for the shopping cart, but man-pride wouldn’t let me do it.
Day 299: Everyday I fear that today might be the day I drop her.
Day 300: Holding onto the couch, Baby can side shuffle. Mom sent me the spoiler at work, which made the live showing somewhat underwhelming. Trying a new policy with Mom — No sharing any new firsts if I’m not there, I want to discover them firsthand.
Day 301: Well that no spoiler policy didn’t last long, Mom sent me a picture of Baby doing Sour Face. It’s her mean mugging with nostrils flared. She’s breathing heavy like she just punched someone in the face. She can do it on demand now and it’s the cutest.
Day 302: I can’t believe Baby is almost a year and Mom is going back to work soon. Baby is going to spend a lot of time with her Grandparents. And if all goes well, every Friday from twelve to eighteen months will be daddy-daughter day. So thankful for an employer that’s so understanding of the plight.
Day 303: She’s finally grown enough hair for us to put a clip in it!
Day 304: Singing while changing a diaper, holds Baby’s attention and holds her in place. But I have a terrible tendency to butcher songs, so I’m sticking to nursery rhymes. They’re as much for parents as they are for kids.
Day 305: The sun was out so we went to the park, only to panic and run home three minutes in because we thought she was cold. This is helicopter parenting at it’s finest.
Day 306: Watching Baby play by herself and I’m feeling this weird tension of wanting her to be independent yet still wanting, as a parent, to feel needed.
