Fatherhood

Jennifer and I woke about twenty minutes ago to Patrick crying ... nothing unusual. I asked her to get him since I have to start getting ready for work in about three hours (yes, I have to work on a Saturday). Where things became unusual was the loud, sustained crash, and Patrick's cries rising to a hefty scream. Being the concerned parent that I am ... with visions of his changing table collapsed on top of him, I rushed to their aid. "What was that?" I cried. Jennifer, weakly replied, "I fell down the stairs." With Patrick screaming at the top of his lungs, I think I actually asked her to repeat what she said. I found my wife sitting, with her legs out and my son in her arms, at the bottom of the stairs. Asking if she and Patrick were OK was mixed into confused questioning about what happened. Somehow, her feet went out from under her (we suspect a couple of the leaves that Patrick likes to play with were on the steps). While my real concern was i...

Daycare ... I remember Jennifer wondering if she would remember what Patrick looked like the first day she had to pick him up. She did remember, he did get home, and it has been relegated to one of those silly, irrational fears. I had another one yesterday. Driving home, I go by another daycare in the area ... one we looked at and did not choose. Mostly because the one we selected was significantly better for our needs ... What I saw struck me ... there were two women on one side of the building with about twenty children that looked as if they were kindergarten age or older. Two of the girls playing were pulling the matting off the ground and tossing it around as the women (watching the kids?) sat against the building in the shade. Around the corner of the building (where the adults could not see) were about eight children that looked about Patrick's age (sixteen months). There was a fence, not only around the outside of the play area, but separating the side and fr...

Patrick's first day of daycare showed me how truly terrifying being a parent can be. Jennifer and I made arrangements at work so we could both be there as he was dropped off. We walked him in and handed him over, along with several months worth of clothing and food. He was in tears (yes, afraid of being abandoned at several months old), his mother was in tears (afraid he would hate her ... logically knowing he cried because he loved her), and I was fighting to keep the tears at bay (being the good, strong husband ... man, was that painful). We got as far as the car before Jen's waterworks started up again. I held her ... for what seemed like hours, letting her take strength from me. All the time, I was hiding the weak feeling in my knees. Eventually, we got to work. Then, the phone call ... it was Jen, picking him up. Another phone call ... they survived the five minute car ride home (first time without me). Another call ... he was happy and feeding. Finally, my wor...