Published: May 19, 2008 09:35 am            

DADDY'S GIRL: Parenting can stink without help

How in the world did she get poop on her shoulder?

Penny’s upper torso is but one of many unusual places on her body that the offending matter has been found. Whether her back, legs or neck, many members of our family are less than comfortable cleaning up such copious quantities of crud (although they will if need be); I guess that’s what daddies and mommies are made for.

Poop cleanup is one of the few things that Penny’s relatives are hesitant to do for her, though. Whether pitch in for a night of baby-sitting, volunteer to feed (or attempt to feed) her cereal or make a surprise visit with two bags of baby veggies in tow, Penny’s family has stepped up big-time during her first 10 months with us.

We may not be a village in the traditional sense, but that makes the old adage about raising a child no less accurate. Penny’s aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins have admirably stepped in numerous times, willingly assisting while her mother and I tend to pesky chores such as work, buying food and doctor’s visits.

Basically, we could not do it without them.

Anyone who’s seen our dining room table knows that most other household tasks get ignored while we’re on child-rearing duty. Penny is a blessing and worth any amount of work, but you do have to sacrifice some things you want to get done to make sure she doesn’t eat the nearby power cord or pull the dog’s tail too hard.

And, yes, even the dog gets an assist. Our border collie/terrier Bella could not be more gentle with Penny. Bella lets her yank on her tail, poke her in the eye and pull at her nose with nary a growl; heck, Bella still tries to kiss Penny even as the dog walks away in exasperation at what the baby’s doing to her. Bella also guards her at night, resting on the floor outside her room on nights the baby goes upstairs before we do.

We haven’t been at it a year yet, but I already can’t imagine how single parents manage to lead any sort of normal life. Rare are the minutes we’re not playing with Penny, cleaning up after Penny, washing her bottles or trying to sleep a few hours before Penny cries and wants to be rocked.

They can’t do much during the overnight hours, but Penny’s relatives help us maintain a more normal existence in the day. Their assistance allows us to tend to at least a few other chores while occasionally enjoying an evening out. Yes, our daughter is impossible to resist, but her relatives sometimes compete for the privilege of being with her.

In at least one relative’s case (I’m looking at you, mom), my wife and I are the opening act to Penny’s main attraction. Not that I mind, though. Having spent most of the past year with her, I can now understand why my dad was so willing to share his French fries with me and drive around like Chuck Berry with no particular place to go.

As Penny’s father, it is my honor to take care of her until she can fend for herself (and I can sense I might spoil her a bit even then). But without other people pitching in, I’m not sure we could make it.

So thanks, family, for the assist. And don’t worry — I’ll handle doodie detail.

•••

Penny recently perfected crawling, which has led to her creating a new game when I get out of work.

The game basically consists of her dashing out of the living room and making a break for the dog’s food dish in the kitchen. If I catch her before she kibbles those bits, I win.

She has grown quite curious since she learned how to move (Penny can also walk with assistance, so she grabs the couch to navigate the living room like Indiana Jones would traverse a canyon on a shallow ledge). If she doesn’t know what something is, she wants it — that includes the box of tissues, which met a premature demise this past week when she wanted to see how quickly she could shred them.

This has led her mom and me to maintain eagle alertness while reinforcing the fact that baby-proofing needs to get done — now. We put rubber pads around the TV stand and moved a couple things, but much of the work remains.

You don’t realize just how much of a hazard your house can be to a baby until one is in there. Who would have thought our album of wedding pictures could become such an instrument of destruction?

Ultimately, there’s nothing to do except get the house ready for her. Then perhaps we’ll have a minute to relax — and judging by how fast her walking skills are progressing, that minute probably has 38 seconds left.

Contact editor Paul Laneat 693-1000, ext. 116,or lanep@gnnewspaper.com.

        

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