Have any of you seen this? It’s the trailer for an indie documentary called The Evolution of Dad. (I don’t know when it was officially released.)
I started watching this trailer, which is really the first 4 minutes of the film, with a pretty cynical eye. I don’t know why. I was just in a cynical mood. By the end, I was balling.
You can support indie filmmakers (and your favorite dad, emotionally anyway) by buying the DVD.
Day 17: A picture of something that has made a huge impact on my life recently
Nothing has impacted my life like having my first child. I know that’s not unique, particularly when Nathan’s already written about Ingrid’s arrival for this same post. My sentiments echo his, so rather than rewrite a post nearly identical to his, I thought I’d share a post I’d written to Ingrid for her first birthday instead…
This time one year ago, I was holding you in the special care nursery, a bit in shock because your arrival came so fast, overwhelmed because your delivery was nothing as I imagined, and scared that I did something to make you come early when you weren’t ready yet.
I remember holding you for the first time, right after you were born, so happy that you were strong enough for us to see you before you had to go to the nursery. You were wrapped in blankets and a little hat; I didn’t realize just how tiny you were until I visited an hour later. Seeing you then was the first time I really saw you. So small and hooked up to so many wires, wearing only a doll-sized diaper and hitting yourself in the face over and over with your heavy IV-ridden right hand. You were so quiet. My heart leapt. I just wanted to hold you close to me and tell you everything was okay. I wasn’t able to do that though, and leaving you alone in the hospital bassinet made me feel so helpless. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Those first two weeks were very trying. Constant fear when one of your alarms would go off. Anxiety over the updates we’d receive each time we went to feed you. Uncertainty whenever we’d change your diaper or give you a bath (we didn’t want to break you!). Nevertheless, those weeks were also exciting. Everyday you’d grow a little, become stronger, and require less intervention. And on Valentine’s Day, when I came out of the shower and opened the door to see you in the room with your daddy, I instantly burst into tears because the time had finally come when we got to take you home. Take you home and be a family.
My sweet Ingrid. You entered the world harder than you should, and I’ll forever be sorry for that. But as I looked at you today, your first birthday, those weeks in the hospital seemed so long ago. You’ve gone from a preemie that needed help eating and regulating your temperature to this strong, talking, and smiling toddler. While I miss holding you close, all swaddled in your blankets, singing softly to you while you drink your 2 oz. bottle, I look forward to exploring the world with you now that you’re so aware and excited.
I’ve tried my hardest to savor every moment with you along the way, as I knew your baby time would go by too quickly. I never wished it to go faster, because to me, each stage you were in was perfect. This new toddler stage is, admittedly, a little scary, as I have no idea what to expect, but I’m certain it will be amazing, too. In fact, we had our first tea party today and I loved watching you mimic me as I poured the “tea” and “drank” from the cup — you were adorable, as always. Such a big girl.
I love you, Turtle. I loved you from the moment I saw you at my first ultrasound and love you more everyday. You’ve changed my life in inexplicable ways and I’m honored to be your mommy. Happy first birthday, my darling baby.
Love you always,
30 Days of Pictures: Day 23
Day 23: A picture of my favorite book
This is an easy one. I know I’m not unique in this, but my favorite book is The Catcher in the Rye. Mr. Wetzel, my 11th grade English teacher had us read all of the “controversial” books, including Huckleberry Finn and The Scarlet Letter. I loved them all, but Catcher left a special place in my heart. I think much of it had to do with how passionately Mr. Wetzel taught this book — it was clear that it spoke to him when he’d first read it some 30+ years ago. But it also had to do with how much angst Holden had for the world…it’s something I related to, again, not unlike the millions of people who’ve also read Catcher.
I make a point of reading The Catcher in the Rye annually, usually in early summer. It’s a tradition originally suggested by Mr. Wetzel; he said we’d find something new and relatable every time we read it, and he was right.
30 Days of Pictures: Day 18
Day 18: A picture of my biggest insecurity
If you’re near my age, you’ll remember the infamous “Bee Girl” from Blind Melon’s No Rain video. The overall premise is this little bee girl is laughed at after performing her tap routine and spends the rest of the video tapping through the city, trying to find someone who will watch. Finally, she opens a gate to find a group of “bee people” all dancing joyfully in a field. She discovers she’s not alone — there are people in the world a) like her and b) who understand her.
I jokingly refer to myself as the “bee girl” all the time. My biggest insecurity has always been that I don’t fit in. I’m terribly introverted until I’m comfortable with people, leaving me to come across as bitchy and/or uninteresting. Typical social gatherings leave me with anxiety because I know small talk will be involved and that’s a skill I most definitely do not possess. My sense of humor is sarcastic, my morals rather prudish, and hobbies and interests considered “lame” (I read medieval art and history books for fun, for crying out loud).
So yeah…I don’t exactly fit in. I never have. In fact, I think one of the subconscious things that attracted me to Nathan was the fact that he’s the complete opposite of me. Extroverted, gregarious…did I mention extroverted? With him in a room, I never have to talk (nor do I have opportunity — love you, honey!).
I’m still searching for my grassy field of sarcastic, Type A, Anglophile, Apple-enthusiast, medievalists. I’ll find them someday…maybe when I finally go back to get my Ph.D. in technical communication with a minor in medieval studies. I just hope they’re not wearing bee costumes because I really can’t deal with calling that much attention to myself.