The Next Step

The Next Step


Everyone knows about the major milestones, baby sits upright, baby is able to eat foods other than milk, and of course babies first steps. As a parent you become aware of the cognitive and physical changes that occur on a much more frequent basis. At 18 months, Daniel is fulfilling the stereotype that is so commonly associated with little boys. He is fully capable of emulating the Tasmanian devil for weeks at a time. It starts with a glint in his eye that can signal several things (I’m about to fill my diaper, I am going to break something, I can feel no pain and I wish to prove it or in some cases a combination of all three). He yells a bellowing whale and attempts to hold the note (Pavarotti would be proud) and sprints through rooms grabbing and throwing whatever gets in his way (Mike Tyson would be impressed). There are exceptions; he will sometimes pause if one of his favorite shows is on. He stares at his show like a deer or opossum in headlights then looks back at me with the same glint in his eye and resumes his terror sprints.

Typically no major damage in incurred. If something is stacked, e.g. my eight containers of varying types of protein shakes, he will ensure that they all end up on the floor sideways. One reason that he targets these containers is because I have never laid down the law about them being off limits. I honestly don’t mind until I’m running late for work the next morning and can’t find the darn scoop so I have to stick my arm in the powder till I find it. An hour later I greet my boss as I’m running down the hallway and I get strange looks that seem to suggest “Slow down, dust the cocaine of your arm and act like a rational person”. After three meetings with my HR manager I have agreed to set aside a designated scoop. It will be labeled “In the case of a terror sprint, please use the designated scoop in this Ziploc”.

“Baby Proofing” is a verb. It’s like having a clean house, a good marriage or being in great shape, to get there or stay there you can never stop working. The older he gets, the more we have to adapt our safety strategy. What seems so natural and intuitive to adults is today’s experiment for him. For example, when we went to the beach last week I was focused on ensuring that Daniel didn’t get too close to the ocean without supervision. I sit back, enjoy the breeze and take in the sights. I think to myself, perhaps it’s possible for Lindsay and I to enjoy a vacation with Daniel. Perhaps tonight we can go to a nice din…. Son! Spit out the sand!, No! The next few days of our trip were memorable, and at some times enjoyable, but I would not describe this as a vacation. Perhaps it is more of a distraction from work or everyday life, a very, very big distraction. After 3 days of this I found myself anxiously awaiting Daniel’s mid day nap so I could sit on the couch and read for a few minutes. By the time he went to bed in the evenings I had resigned myself to cleaning or doing a late night walk on the beach.

It is in these quiet moments that I am able to take a deep breath, relax and spend time reflecting on my issues and thoughts. I think to myself, am I truly stepping up to life’s challenges, am I making an effort to be a great husband, will I ever get promoted? With our next child due on Daniel’s second birthday (November 3’rd), I find myself thinking…..this baby had better be the calm one.