If you would have asked me, before Addie was born, to speculate on what I would enjoy most about being a father, I certainly would not have guessed it would be waking up in the middle of the night. But now, as I've grown into my new role as father, it is absolutely one of favorite things about having a daugher. Now let me qualify here, so that I don't get myself a permanent job of waking up in the middle of the night. I don't desire to wake up--in fact, I would prefer to stay in the bed, and I appreciate the fact that Anna and I trade off on waking-up duty. However, it is when Addie does wake up, and it is when I go to her room, that I have some of the best experiences with her.
As Addie has grown, her waking up in the middle of the night is not an indication of hunger. Rather, as I have read, she has reached the end of a sleep cycle, so a great deal of effort is not required to get her back to sleep. When Addie cries in the middle of the night, pretty much all we have to do is put her pacifier back in her mouth, which leads her--almost directly--back to sleep.
When I wake up with Addie crying, and I make my way into her room, she will invariably have woken herself up and rolled on her stomach (I think she's a little disoriented after being asleep--although I don't have any proof of that). I'll step up to her crib, and with my left hand cradling her head and my right hand gently holding her stomach, I'll roll her over onto her back. It's that moment, right after she's rolled over as I grab her pacifier and her lovey (blanket, for the uninitiated), that I see in her eyes that she recognizes my face, and she immediately calms down, and her crying stops. Every time that she has the look of recognition in her eyes, it melts my heart, because it is immediately followed by a look of complete contentment. Then I see that Addie knows that she is safe because her daddy is there.
I don't claim to know if Addie is really awake enough during these late-night moments to truly recognize that her daddy is there, but I hope she does. Even so, if she thinks it's only a dream, I'm glad that she falls back asleep dreaming of me.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Dancing queen!
So, Addie likes to dance. Well, let me qualify that by saying that she likes to sit up and bounce up and down semi-rhythmically to music--but she seems to be having a blast. The problem we have with Addie's proclivity to dance, however, is that we have yet to figure out how to get her to do it for the camera. Anna and I have both seen her get down, so to speak, but we have been chronically without recording device when she chooses to do so.
So Saturday night, Anna and I tried to catch lightning in a bottle with Addie, our camera, and iTunes. We tried several songs in order to get her moving. First, we played her "In the Jungle," which she liked, but decided she didn't really want to boogie to it. Moving on, we tried a couple of other songs--some Stevie Wonder, some unnamed techno, and, I hate to say it, some rap. I remembered that episode of Friends where the only way Ross and Rachel could get their daughter to smile was by singing "Baby Got Back."
Unfortunately, I'm not immune to the siren song of cute baby videos, and as a result, I played a little Sir Mix-a-lot for her. As an aside, please don't judge me for my "Baby got back" ownership, as I'm sure you have your own black sheep mp3 (feel free to add a comment with your track of shame). Thankfully, Addie didn't dance, but I suspect, that even if she had, I would have been too ashamed to post that video on the Internet. Then, after a little bit more thought, we got a few moments of furtive dancing to the Knack's "My Sharona." I imagine that we'll have plenty of days ahead of our daughter dancing to novelty chart-topping hits, but I'm glad we can avoid it for now.
So Saturday night, Anna and I tried to catch lightning in a bottle with Addie, our camera, and iTunes. We tried several songs in order to get her moving. First, we played her "In the Jungle," which she liked, but decided she didn't really want to boogie to it. Moving on, we tried a couple of other songs--some Stevie Wonder, some unnamed techno, and, I hate to say it, some rap. I remembered that episode of Friends where the only way Ross and Rachel could get their daughter to smile was by singing "Baby Got Back."
Unfortunately, I'm not immune to the siren song of cute baby videos, and as a result, I played a little Sir Mix-a-lot for her. As an aside, please don't judge me for my "Baby got back" ownership, as I'm sure you have your own black sheep mp3 (feel free to add a comment with your track of shame). Thankfully, Addie didn't dance, but I suspect, that even if she had, I would have been too ashamed to post that video on the Internet. Then, after a little bit more thought, we got a few moments of furtive dancing to the Knack's "My Sharona." I imagine that we'll have plenty of days ahead of our daughter dancing to novelty chart-topping hits, but I'm glad we can avoid it for now.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
I totally understand the Wiggles now.
Before Addie was born and I spent significantly less time with infants, I had a hard time understanding how musical groups catering to children really functioned. I mean, how can you sing their songs without going insane? I'm not one who looks down upon artists like the Wiggles or Raffi--I don't think that they're freaks or sell-outs or anything like that. Obviously they make a great living, and they have to have some musical talent to do what they do; but, like I said above, it's the precariously traveling along the razor's edge of madness that I didn't get. Seriously, how many times can you sing "Get ready to wiggle" or "Go Captain Feathersword, Ahoy!" before you completely lose it.
But tonight, everything changed, and I had a moment of complete clarity akin to the clouds parting and the single beam of sunlight illuminating my sky-turned face. I caught myself, while feeding Addie (Anna's at a class tonight), singing a song that, as far as I can remember, was entirely about the mixture of foodstuffs that made up Addie's dinner. It's not that weird that I sang a song that consisted of the lyrics "You got your chicken and your fruit, and it's good enough for me!" to the tune of "You put the lime in the coconut"--the weird part is that I sang it for the better part of five minutes before I realized it.
As soon as I knew that I had been singing an impromptu song about baby food, I stopped and audibly laughed at myself. But here's the kicker--as soon as I stopped singing, Addie got upset. What I didn't notice is that my singing had transfixed her into eating like a champ. Then it hit me--silly songs are the pied piper ballads that cause babies to immediatley calm down and listen focusedly. So, obviously, I started singing again, and Addie ceased her fusiness and finished eating.
So there you have it--Raffi, the Wiggles, and others of their ilk aren't annoying--they're geniuses that have songs that you might as well call "Baby, be quiet as I make funny noises for your parents benefit." And it works. Stand in awe.
But tonight, everything changed, and I had a moment of complete clarity akin to the clouds parting and the single beam of sunlight illuminating my sky-turned face. I caught myself, while feeding Addie (Anna's at a class tonight), singing a song that, as far as I can remember, was entirely about the mixture of foodstuffs that made up Addie's dinner. It's not that weird that I sang a song that consisted of the lyrics "You got your chicken and your fruit, and it's good enough for me!" to the tune of "You put the lime in the coconut"--the weird part is that I sang it for the better part of five minutes before I realized it.
As soon as I knew that I had been singing an impromptu song about baby food, I stopped and audibly laughed at myself. But here's the kicker--as soon as I stopped singing, Addie got upset. What I didn't notice is that my singing had transfixed her into eating like a champ. Then it hit me--silly songs are the pied piper ballads that cause babies to immediatley calm down and listen focusedly. So, obviously, I started singing again, and Addie ceased her fusiness and finished eating.
So there you have it--Raffi, the Wiggles, and others of their ilk aren't annoying--they're geniuses that have songs that you might as well call "Baby, be quiet as I make funny noises for your parents benefit." And it works. Stand in awe.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Another show of massive greed in the financial crisis
An interesting story surfaced today that may be under your radar with all of the other negative economic news. Apparently, after receiving an $85 billion bailout from the American taxpayer, AIG decided it was a good idea to take its executives on a $440,000 retreat at a resort in California. You can read the details here, but you don't need to know much to have your stomach turn.
Rarely do I write to congress, but this story pushed me over the edge. I wrote the following letter to Senator Richard Shelby, who represents Alabama. But if you, like me, want to register your disgust with these executives, you may also want to contact Senator Shelby, as he is a ranking member of the Senate Banking Committee. You can send him a letter from his senatorial website: http://shelby.senate.gov/public/index.cfm?FuseAction=Home.Home. Feel free to copy my words verbatim if you like (change your state, though)--just make your voice heard.
Senator Shelby,
As you no doubt noted today, it has come to light that several AIG executives, after receiving a bail-out to the tune of $85 billion of taxpayer money, decided to take a lavish week-long retreat in California. As the events of the last two weeks have unfolded to the incredible detriment to most American taxpayers, it is an absolute slap in the face for those who have directly contributed to this crisis to take a lavish vacation to reward themselves for a job obviously not well done.
As an Alabamian, I appeal to you, a ranking member of the Senate Banking committee, to please take action on this issue. If the government is to ever restore the American investor's faith, it absolutely cannot allow the brazen actions of individuals who, apparently, lack any remorse for the havoc their reckless corporate decisions have caused the American people.
I, for one, would gladly greet the news that every executive who attended this retreat were summarily terminated from their position. Now that I am a part owner of AIG by virtue of my tax dollars, why should I allow these executives to retain their positions? What have they done to show that they understand the financial crisis facing this nation or that they have the ability to assist in leading out if it? Please, sir, don't allow this to stand. Instead, take action, and contribute to the restoration of American confidence in the economy. Thank you.
Paul Wamsted
Rarely do I write to congress, but this story pushed me over the edge. I wrote the following letter to Senator Richard Shelby, who represents Alabama. But if you, like me, want to register your disgust with these executives, you may also want to contact Senator Shelby, as he is a ranking member of the Senate Banking Committee. You can send him a letter from his senatorial website: http://shelby.senate.gov/public/index.cfm?FuseAction=Home.Home. Feel free to copy my words verbatim if you like (change your state, though)--just make your voice heard.
Senator Shelby,
As you no doubt noted today, it has come to light that several AIG executives, after receiving a bail-out to the tune of $85 billion of taxpayer money, decided to take a lavish week-long retreat in California. As the events of the last two weeks have unfolded to the incredible detriment to most American taxpayers, it is an absolute slap in the face for those who have directly contributed to this crisis to take a lavish vacation to reward themselves for a job obviously not well done.
As an Alabamian, I appeal to you, a ranking member of the Senate Banking committee, to please take action on this issue. If the government is to ever restore the American investor's faith, it absolutely cannot allow the brazen actions of individuals who, apparently, lack any remorse for the havoc their reckless corporate decisions have caused the American people.
I, for one, would gladly greet the news that every executive who attended this retreat were summarily terminated from their position. Now that I am a part owner of AIG by virtue of my tax dollars, why should I allow these executives to retain their positions? What have they done to show that they understand the financial crisis facing this nation or that they have the ability to assist in leading out if it? Please, sir, don't allow this to stand. Instead, take action, and contribute to the restoration of American confidence in the economy. Thank you.
Paul Wamsted
Monday, October 6, 2008
Debate fever!
Since my last post, we've had our first and only Vice Presidential debate, and we are soon to experience our second, completely impromptu, absolutely extemporaneous, totally off-the-cuff town hall style debate. I can't wait to hear the questions read in the style of a Brave New World automaton--it's gonna be awesome. And it's the relative safety and ability to avoid the question built into our debate system that has gotten me thinking about some ways we could improve our debates, or at least make them more entertaining. Here are three of the best:
1. Instead of having debates in auditoriums in colleges around the country, the Citizens' Debate Commission could buy some land in the Nevada desert and build a debate Thunderdome. When the debates are conducted, pundits, journalists, and handlers can scale the outside of dome and bang the metal girders with their weapons to register their approval or displeasure of the debate. The Thunderdome will be available for any political race (how awesome would the local school board race be then) and televised via a closed circuit station. Also, all candidates will have to dress in post-apocalyptic Australian fetish gear, and all of the debates will be moderated by Tina Turner.
2. Since the candidates really don't answer the questions they are asked (or at least, they dodge the main question and find a way to answer the one they want to), why don't we make them adopt rhetorical styles of our choosing? The audience members will write down a pairing of a hero and a villain from literature or pop culture and drop it into a hat. Then, the candidates will have to answer in the styles randomly selected before each question. In the interest of fairness, the candidates will have to alternate being the villain. Such a debate system could lead to these classic match-ups:
-He-man vs. Skeletor (military policy)
-Papa Smurf vs. Gargamel (domestic policy)
-Yoda vs. the Emperor (foreign policy and Jedi rights)
-Optimus Prime vs. Megatron (technology)
-Ferris Bueller vs. Mr. Rooney (education)
-KITT vs. KARR (the economy)
-Storm Shadow vs. Snake-eyes (the silent ninja threat)
3. We could ask the candidates original, thought-provoking questions and demand that they be answered with honesty and candor. And immediately after the question is asked, the candidates will fight Medieval Times style with nerf weapons to determine who will answer it. The candidates will trade off as to who gets to choose the implements of the nerf dual. Then whoever is defeated in single, nerf combat must answer the question (as everybody knows that honesty is candidates' kryptonite). I think nerf would be more entertaining then paint-ball or lasertag, but I'm open to suggestions here.
So tomorrow night, while you watch the candidates try to one up each other on not screwing up, just think what might have been. And please, if you have any good hero/villain match-ups, please add 'em to the comments. Cheers!
1. Instead of having debates in auditoriums in colleges around the country, the Citizens' Debate Commission could buy some land in the Nevada desert and build a debate Thunderdome. When the debates are conducted, pundits, journalists, and handlers can scale the outside of dome and bang the metal girders with their weapons to register their approval or displeasure of the debate. The Thunderdome will be available for any political race (how awesome would the local school board race be then) and televised via a closed circuit station. Also, all candidates will have to dress in post-apocalyptic Australian fetish gear, and all of the debates will be moderated by Tina Turner.
2. Since the candidates really don't answer the questions they are asked (or at least, they dodge the main question and find a way to answer the one they want to), why don't we make them adopt rhetorical styles of our choosing? The audience members will write down a pairing of a hero and a villain from literature or pop culture and drop it into a hat. Then, the candidates will have to answer in the styles randomly selected before each question. In the interest of fairness, the candidates will have to alternate being the villain. Such a debate system could lead to these classic match-ups:
-He-man vs. Skeletor (military policy)
-Papa Smurf vs. Gargamel (domestic policy)
-Yoda vs. the Emperor (foreign policy and Jedi rights)
-Optimus Prime vs. Megatron (technology)
-Ferris Bueller vs. Mr. Rooney (education)
-KITT vs. KARR (the economy)
-Storm Shadow vs. Snake-eyes (the silent ninja threat)
3. We could ask the candidates original, thought-provoking questions and demand that they be answered with honesty and candor. And immediately after the question is asked, the candidates will fight Medieval Times style with nerf weapons to determine who will answer it. The candidates will trade off as to who gets to choose the implements of the nerf dual. Then whoever is defeated in single, nerf combat must answer the question (as everybody knows that honesty is candidates' kryptonite). I think nerf would be more entertaining then paint-ball or lasertag, but I'm open to suggestions here.
So tomorrow night, while you watch the candidates try to one up each other on not screwing up, just think what might have been. And please, if you have any good hero/villain match-ups, please add 'em to the comments. Cheers!
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