...and then there were tears

as much as i would like to say that title was for dramatic effect, sadly, it wasn't.

sunday marked another milestone in the life of one young callia frances.

she moved, without fuss or fight, from her crib to a new "big girl" bed. after throwing everything she could find into the bed, she promptly settled in much to our amazement. we were certain the process would take at least a week packed with raised voices, tears and many time outs but we were completely wrong. she loves it and tries to climb in it every chance she gets.

it really magnified the fact that our "baby" girl was quickly growing into a "little" girl. i felt sad to the point of tears while overwhelming proud at the same time. such mixed emotions constantly tear my heart out, rip it apart, then put it back in my chest with a severe ache. i guess it's good that it's a muscle because with each rip it repairs itself and rebuilds even bigger and strong than before.

i've said it in the past and it still makes me want to kick my own ass but the tired cliche is so right-- they grow up way too fast. if you don't stop to recognize and enjoy the now, it'll pass you in the blink of an eye. it's so incredibly difficult but i love the way she makes me set aside what i think is life to see what life really is.

you've got to be kidding me

it seems as though the days of calli running around in the buff may be over. she now knows how to put her pants back on! all by herself!

oh wait a minute...

that's only after she has removed her diaper-gotten poop everywhere-and then put her pj shorts back on but with both legs through one leg hole so it looks like a skirt!

i suppose this was her way of showing me that i should have gotten up to get her the first time i heard her cry out. by the time i made it to her, (at 7:15am) her bed looked like the aftermath of some major ww2 battle where the only invented form of artillery was crap.

it covered her. from knees to elbows to hands to feet and everything in between. and poor winnie the pooh. it looked as though he was blind sided. there's no way that little guy stood a chance.

so we went right to the tub with the kid and right to the washer with everything in a 3mile radius of her bed.

quite the wake up call and more evidence that she, indeed, still takes her clothes off.

i just wonder if she was trying to hide the whole thing by attempting to put her shorts back on.

and to think that some day she'll be a teen. i don't know that i have the strength for that.

and the father of the year award goes to...

holy shit! me!

i can't believe this.

i want to thank you all.

the hollywood foreign press--

my lovely wife--

my daughter...

speaking of my daughter, i could not have even been considered for this award without her.

what's that? of course i'll explain.

the other day i was getting ready for work and calli was in the bathroom with me. you see, she loves going into the water closet and pulling out all my heavy reading material (because that's where magazines are kept right? at least in our house. for obvious reasons.) and flinging them about the bathroom. that day she started this new game of going in and shutting the door. then i would call out--

"where's calli?"

and she'd pop out with an ear to ear grin.

--keep in mind i'm in the shower at this point--

i watch her head in for another round except this time the door handle attempts to turn but doesn't open. so i call again and still the same. fuck... she's locked herself in there. and of course i'm in the middle of the cleaning process, soap everywhere, water closet door handle furiously shaking, damn. i did what i could to get out quickly and went to the door. sure enough it was locked. i knocked on the door and she replied--

"who is it?"

"honey, it's daddy. try to turn the lock."

as if she knew what the hell i was talking about. at this point, i envision her reaching into the toilet and drinking from her hand. because that the kind of thing that kid would probably do.

we go back and forth for a couple of minutes and get nowhere. then i think to myself try a key dumbass. of course my keys were downstairs, not that i have a key to these doors but i was willing to try anything.

"calli... i'll be right back don't touch anything."

and again the handle jiggles. i can tell she's getting frustrated. after getting my keys i try to get one in and as expected they don't fit but luckily it only took a simple turn and the door came unlocked. she busted out smiling and laughing while i stood there in a towel, dripping wet, half soaped up, panting.

i'm thinking we may need to add another room onto the house just to display all my parenting awards.

i freaking love this job.

what's the deal with toddlers and taking off clothes?

easter dinner:

honey ham--check
potato salad--check
green beans--check
family--check
naked toddler--check

--wait a minute... what the cadbury cream egg is going on here?--

i shake my head and just ask why. i don't get it but for some reason calli has hit this "nakie-nakie" stage that i'd love for her to grow out of sooner than later.

she finished her dinner and wanted to go play. we had just sat down to eat so i was happy to get her own her way so we could enjoy a nice meal among adults. after pulling her out of the chair she promptly asked me to remove her clothes. i obliged not giving one thought to where this could possibiliy go. about four minutes later she came sauntering back to the table in nothing but calli. of course the group erupted in laughter only encouraging the behavior which made it that much harder to get her still so i could get something on her. when i finally pinned her down she flipped out.

--how in the hell could i expect her to live with clothes on? here, let me claw your eyes out.--

flip out.

of course she got over it in no time but really, i don't understand why she's loves having her clothes off. and frankly, from a dad standpoint, i don't like it one bit.

throwin' up the dooce

if this doesn't get you rollin' on the floor, you deserve to be miserable.