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Babygirl: Year One

The title may be a bit misleading. I’m not actually planning on writing about Genevieve’s entire first year. But it does weigh heavily on me. Last week was her birthday and yesterday was her birthday party. Not everyone I would’ve liked to be there was because of space and situations. It was mostly Pamela’s family and friends. My 15-year-old was there, representin’ the Gauthiers because my sister lives in Florida and my mother is unable to leave her apartment. Still, fun was had by all. The baby made out like a bandit (sorry for the cliché, I’m tired), everyone loved the cake (thanks to Cravings Café & Cakery), and the baby had a great time.

Still, the passage of time is felt. One year becomes fifteen real fast. All I needed to do was look at Courtney and Genevieve together.

Sisters hanging out.

Sisters hanging out.

One year becomes fifteen in a heartbeat, it seems. I know that’s not true. A lot has happened in fifteen years. My life changed, and changed again, and changed at least three more times. The lives of those around me also changed. The world has changed. Fifteen years ago as I write this, I would’ve been using my first computer, a gift from my parents. It wasn’t connected to the Internet just yet, and wouldn’t be for another month or two. And when it was finally connected, it was with America Online, dial-up. Now I sit at my fourth computer, a notebook computer, typing on a blog via wireless broadband. That’s but one change.

So to see that the baby is already one is a little disconcerting. There will be lots of adventures in her future. Lots of firsts. I look forward to them, and I fear them. But I mostly look forward to them. Just as I look forward to the firsts that my teenager still has to encounter, as my wife will encounter, as I will encounter.

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Quick Video: Summer Vacation

I meant to post this here back when I put the video on YouTube, but forgot. It’s Baby G and I messing with my iPad’s cam. Ain’t she cute?

The Nap, or The Child Crying in the Other Room as I Try to Be a Good Parent

So I’m sitting in my office at 3:25 PM on a Tuesday. Baby G is in her playpen. She needs a nap. Daddy stopped being nice. You see, Baby G has taken every nap this summer that she’s been with me on me. I’ve made reference to this on Facebook and Twitter, calling myself a hostage. I shouldn’t complain, I guess. I love her dearly and I get to read. But still, there are other things I’d like to do. Dishes. Go to the bathroom. Whatever. So, today is the day that she needs to be able to nap on her own…like she does at day care.

Yes, no one rocks her to sleep at day care, and they sure as hell don’t let her sleep on them. So today, Daddy becomes the official Bad Guy. It was a good run. I nearly made it to 9 months.

I’m not going to lie. This is not easy. Hearing her in the other room crying, crying, crying, for about 10 minutes now, is really hard. But I think it’s important. She has to be able to be independent in some way, and I need to be able to do things, whether it’s housework or write a stupid blog post. Still, a large piece of my heart is breaking right now. Honestly, I feel like I could start crying. The only thing that’s stopping me is the knowledge that I’m right. I’ve done it before.

My teenager, Courtney, didn’t have this problem as much, if I recall correctly. Either way, I was able to get her to nap with fairly little issue. As a matter of fact, she still naps fairly well. Getting her to stop sleeping is my biggest problem.

But life isn’t a comparison of horrors and parenting isn’t a comparison of children. What works with one may not work with the other. In this case, I know it will work because our day care provider told me that’s how it worked with Baby G and her, so….

And now I’m going to go, not to Baby G (who will stop crying for a few minutes, only to begin again at a higher decibel), who will continue to break my heart by crying today. And tomorrow, and the next day, until she’ll eventually stop. And I will tell myself that I’m not actually the Bad Guy but a Good Parent.

I have to tell myself that. It’ll stop me from crying.

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Just so you know, this is my 100th post on WordPress. I don’t know why this means anything, but why not mention it? Share this and get me more followers. Whee!

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