Clean Laundry

One

I got a shock tonight when my mom told me on the phone that when she comes out to visit next week she is bringing a hat that she bought for Annabella that says "It's Fun to be One."

I was silent for a moment, simply absorbing the fact that my daughter was almost one. I didn't forget her birthday or anything (April 7th, by the way), I just hadn't thought about the fact that she was actually going to be one. One year old. I have a one year old daughter. How did that happen?

I think this shocking thought must be what keeps people counting their child's age in months for so long.

I didn't tell my mom this had thrown me, which made it pretty funny when later in the conversation she suddenly wondered aloud, "How did you get to be 31?"

Little Children

I just started reading Little Children, by Tom Perrotta, and I cannot put it down. The novel looks at a group of 30-ish parents of young kids. It takes on everything from the intricacies of playground politics (which I still do not understand) to the psyche of the stay-at-home dad.

Little Children is one of those books that is painful to read because the characters are too much like me, and not necessarily in a good way. Tom Perrotta is a great writer. He wrote the book Election (on which the movie was based), so if you've seen the movie you might have an idea of the kind of humor I'm talking about.

I'm not saying I fantasize about Steve the former host of Blues Clues, as one mother in the book does or that Raffi is the single most importance musical influence in my life, as another adult character in the book admits. But Marco and I have recently found ourselves saying "night-night" instead of "goodnight" long after Annabella has gone to sleep and will reap any benefit from our baby talk (assuming she ever does.) This is just a mild example of the surprising ways becoming a parent changes you in ways you could never have expected or hoped or even wanted.

This isn't the first book I've read about raising young kids in suburbia. Two of my favorite authors, John Updike and Ann Beattie, write about almost nothing else. Still, this is the first book I've read on the subject since I actually became the subject. I'm finding it equal parts hilarious and disturbing.

A Creature of Habit

When people say that babies at this age (11.5 months) appreciate a consistent routine, they aren't kidding. It has taken Annabella almost two weeks to recover from her trip to Dallas.

She missed her regular routine (not to mention her daddy.) She cried a lot for the last two days of our trip. Eventually she reached the point where the only place she wanted to be was in my arms. It is a powerful feeling to know that at this stage in our lives I am the only person in the world who can make her happy. I avoid letting this go to my head by reminding myself that when she is 14, I may be the only person in the world she will want nothing to do with.

I usually don't take pictures of Annabella when she is crying, but my father doesn't ever miss a chance to document.

He recently sent me these photos:

I have to admit that I really admire her ability to cry and eat at the same time.

My (Other) Work

A few of you (and not just my mom and dad) have emailed me to ask where you can find my freelance work online.

Here are a few links to stuff I've written for Microsoft.

• Introduction to Viruses, Worms, and Trojan Horses

• Reducing Your Virus Risk

• Building a Safer Home Network

• Export Info from Your Media Library

The rest of the time I've been editing work from other writers on the Windows XP site and working on a book with Leo.

Not a Water Baby

Her greatest fear should be crawling off the edge of our bed, hitting herself over the head with one of her wooden toys as she flings it about, or bees. But these are not her greatest fears. These are my greatest fears.

Her greatest fear is the bathtub.

For some unexplained reason, Annabella has suddenly become afraid of the bath. It started a few weeks ago, long after we'd made the smooth transition from baby bathtub to big bathtub. First she really enjoyed it. Then she realized that she could stand up. When I kept sitting her back down, she started to get angry. Anger turned to fear and now she starts to scream and cry whenever she sees the water.

She cries like we are beating her. She cries as if she is suffering one of life's great injustices. She clings to her rubber ducky or to my neck. Once she tried to throw herself out of the tub in one desperate, headlong leap.

Afterwards, safe in my arms in a towel, she is herself again.

With the way she enjoys rubbing butternut squash and cottage cheese in her hair and playing in the sand at the playground, skipping baths altogether is not an option. We've tried going back to the small plastic tub, we've tried bathing with her, but we still get the same fear-for-your-life reaction.

For now we endure the tears and the screaming, clean her as fast as possible, and soldier on.

Cupcake

Annabella and I went to Dallas to celebrate her cousin Hayden's first birthday. Here are a few pictures of her cousin Cole giving her a cupcake and the aftermath. Hayden is happily enjoying his cupcake in the background.