A Dash of Dash a Day: June 30

Last night, at, like, 11, I had a bit of an episode with Ann where I just kind of ranted for a few minutes. Ann and I thrive on our routines, and it was just one of those weeks between the election and dodgeball and Dash not sleeping so well that Ann and I were off, and I felt like everything was disjointed with me and Dash, and it was just a bit of a mess. We worked through it fine, and recalibrated, and all is well in the world, but then I see the picture above where Dash is literally attached at my hip and as happy as he can be, and I wonder why I ever worried to begin with.

This was his face during the highlight of our morning, when Ann went to get a coffee and we just chilled off to the side, while he screamed with delight as I just talked a bunch of nonsense to him and he loved every moment of it. It's moments like the top picture and this one that make me wonder why I worry at all with Dash, because, really, sometimes the best you can is good enough.

I know a lot of good fathers in my life, and I know of a lot of bad ones. I have one friend who's fighting with his ex for as much custody as he can for his kid, and I have another (now former) friend who acts like it's a chore to see his kid once a month and won't even fight for custody. I saw some old friends yesterday with their almost-three-year-old, and the love they both have for their little girl is so obvious, and then there are those people you know that you're shocked the kids are actually surviving from day to day. Ann and I often joke that it's actually not that hard to be a good parent, especially when so many people set the bar so tragically low, but I'm just really, really intent on doing right by Dash as much as I can, as often as I can.

It's funny, because I've always wanted kids, but I was really anxious to actually become a parent. Then I spent seven hours away from the little bugger twice this week and I missed him before even half the day was gone. As low as my parenting self-esteem can get from time to time, I can at least take solace that my less-than-stellar days are still going to end with Dash delighted to see me, at least for now. And I know more difficult days are going to come, when he can communicate with actual words and move around on his own, and beyond. If I'm doing okay at his most helpless, though...

Going into this month-long blog project, I was worried finding thirty things to write about would be difficult. It was and it wasn't, but even the lazier days end up as a piece of a document of his first three months, which I think we'll appreciate more in a decade or so, if not earlier. This is not a sign-off, of course, but maybe a post every week makes more sense than a post every day, too. Thanks for sticking around, in any regard.

A Dash of Dash a Day: June 29

Back when Ann was pregnant, there was really only one thing I truly needed to buy for her, and that was a yoga ball. She wanted it for the delivery room, but also for her back and stuff during the worst points. It was an adventure getting the thing blown up, but we're all set with it now.

What's funny about this yoga ball is how attached Dash is to it. For the first few weeks of his life, we literally could not get him to go to sleep without us sitting on the yoga ball, bouncing endlessly up and down until his eyes shut for good. It was bizarre and annoying, but hey, whatever it takes to get a baby to go to sleep, right?

I thought this era was done, but it turns out we're far from it. In the last two weeks in particular, he's pretty much not going to sleep unless he gets some yoga bouncing in first. The kid's heavy now! Yoga ball bouncing is serious business! And yet we both continue to bounce over and over and over...

A Dash of Dash a Day: June 28

When Dash's Auntie Beth is not trying to give Dash toupees with her own hair, she's doctoring photos of Dash with some program on her iPad.

I don't know what the program is, I don't quite understand much of any of it, but I do know that nearly every photo Ann sends to Dash is returned to us with some sort of fantastic addition.

Dash is going to be surrounded by some of the most creative people I know, and that excites me. Some of it will be weird, some of it touching, but all of it awesome. Even the ones where Dash is ignoring his father in favor of a cloud-riding unicorn.

A Dash of Dash a Day: June 27

True fact: if you had asked me what I knew about babies 4 months ago, my answer would have probably been "they puke a lot."

I know puking is not the same as spitting up, but when it's oozing onto you, it's a difference without distinction. The good news is that Dash is not a baby that spits up a lot. The, uh, "action photo" above (which cracks Ann and I up every time we look at it) is hardly representative of the Full Dash Experience. He's very drooly, and he has the occasional light spit-up, but nothing crazy at all. I'm very okay with that.

Dash has, in fact, only vomited once so far. He takes after his father, who is going 10 years strong without a vomit incident, but when Dash erupted, it was like a milk volcano all over the place, including my beard. Yes, my beard - I'm shocked I didn't torch the thing off once I was done. While we felt bad for Dash (and he was very nonchalant about the whole episode), Ann was just impressed that I didn't drop the baby as he was puking.

I apparently have a very low bar to clear.

A Dash of Dash a Day: June 26

I was honestly hoping I could write this with a Stanley Cup game seven pending, but alas, it was not meant to be. What is apparently meant to be, though, is good things happening to our local sports teams when Ann and I reach milestones in our life:

* I met Ann in 2004, which was followed by a Red Sox World Series win (first in 84 years) and a Patriots Super Bowl win (third in four years).

* Ann & I got married in 2007, which was followed by a Red Sox World Series win and a Patriots Super Bowl loss after the 16-0 season.

* Ann & I moved into our own apartment again in time for a Bruins Stanley Cup and a Celtics Finals run.

* Dash was born in 2013, and we already have a Stanley Cup Final for the Bruins and the Red Sox are still hanging tough in what was supposedly a "bridge year."

I don't believe in superstition, in hype, in this sort of thing. We've spent a lot of time calling Dash our little good luck charm, though, and I'm secretly hoping the Sox win it all this year so we can tell him about how he kept the pattern going.

A Dash of Dash a Day: June 25

As many reading this know, and probably many others do not, I am very involved with local politics. Today, I'll spend the majority of my day as I've spent a good chunk of the last few weeks - making phone calls for the Republican candidate in the special election that's happening today. I'm the treasurer of my town's Republican Town Committee, and I've volunteered on a ton of campaigns over the last 5 years. I never want to run for office (okay, maybe library trustee someday), but I do enjoy helping elect other people. A gift from a fellow local Republican couple (and all around good people) Alan and Lori speaks to that, as evidenced above.

What I do struggle with a lot, though, is balancing wanting Dash to also feel like he can (and should) be involved and informed in politics while not creating a situation where he does what he does because dad does what he does. My father was a union Democrat, as was my mother, and I was raised believing certain things that I later found were a little more nuanced. While Ann will credit me with trying to present multiple sides to an issue as neutrally as possible when she has a question, I'm able to do that with her college educated adult brain in a way that might not be as simple for a kid.

I worry a lot about Dash being exposed to as much information as he'll need to make logical, coherent choices in his life, and politics is part of that. But how do I bring him to a Republican event and have him not brainwashed? Same with a liberal event? Being in such a left-wing state, will his default be skewed like mine was? I know I'm again overthinking the world that Dash will be in, not to mention assuming a lot about what the political landscape will be in a decade when this will actually matter, but the truth of the matter is that this isn't an issue of religion or finances, which can be avoided - he's going to play in a yard that will have a political sign in it, drive around in a car with multiple bumper stickers, and know a lot of extended friend-family who are just as active and activist for causes his father is not. I don't want him to be ignorant, but I don't want him to default to one position (in either direction!) simply because his parents are a certain way.

Of course, after all, I want him to agree with me on everything. I just know that I want him to get there on his own.

A Dash of Dash a Day: June 24

We talk a lot about how Dash being all puppies and sunshine and unicorns, but the fact of the matter is that there has been one issue that we've had to solve. Part of this is more than certainly due to the crazy birth situation, where Dash was perhaps a tad overcooked in the birth canal, but regardless of where to put the blame, it's something we've had to fix.

Essentially, Dash favored his right side. The left side of his head after birth was a little off early just because of the conehead properties, and wasn't too much of a concern, but this pretty much made Dash default to the right early. When we went to the pediatrician for his 2 month (or maybe 6 week, I can't recall which), she noted the necessity to fix this. We'd prefer Dash not be in a helmet, so we got on it.

A lot of it is easy to do - more tummy time, laying him down for naps in ways that force him left, sitting him so he has to look left to interact with us. We're to the point where his "hard left" is just about as good, if not as good, as his "hard right." As the image above shows, however, we've had to get inventive from time to time as well. During one significant car trip, for example, we just used his bovine bowling pin as a stopper to keep him from drifting off to sleep on the right hand side. He never seemed uncomfortable and he's been a good sport about it, but still.

So yeah. We're thinking things are good at this point, and I'm hoping his doctor doesn't come out and say "hey, here's your helmet, see you at Christmas," but for now? We're happy with his progress.