Almost three years ago today, I sat in a dimly lit patient room on the 5th floor of Central Baptist’s Hospital’s maternity ward overcome with fear as a newborn baby girl slept just feet from my combo BARCO lounger / recliner bed. She didn’t need me in those moments, only her mother, but in her absence, I was left in charge. Amidst the beeping and pinging of medical equipment, the hustle and bustle of nurse shift changes, and the ambiance of a low rent efficiency apartment, I reached into the bassinette at the foot of the Craftmatic adjustable bed and gently lifted my child with all the tenderness I could muster. Resting in a half sitting, half lying position, we had our first conversation. She listened, I talked.
We spoke of things all fathers might cover with their newborn babies; things like fatherly protection, godly blessings, future adventures, unyielding love, and togetherness. We covered topics like thumb or binky, knit cap or bald head, hospital issue cover-up or embroidered blanket but mostly we just existed together unimpressed by surroundings and unaffected by others. Nestled in my arms, just the two of us, alone in that space, we enjoyed our very first Daddy/Daughter moment, accompanied by coos and cries, hopes and dreams, and the promise of many lessons to come. If I’d only known the lessons of the last three years would be mine, I may have listened more than I did.
Lesson #1 – I am not an Extrovert, Haegan is
I’m fairly reserved. Haegan is not. From early on, Haegan has taught me it is much more fun to engage people than to avoid them. In restaurants and shopping malls, on sidewalks or major thoroughfares, Haegan attracts people in droves by engaging them in ways I could only imagine. She attracts bikers with leather chaps, construction workers with week-old beards and pit stains, women with shopping bags, children on bikes, and crusty old men with facial scowls. She waves, smiles, touches, speaks, sings, or dances her way into each ones glance no matter how hard they try to avoid her. But in that moment, there is no avoiding Haegan. Once eye contact is made, the mood lightens and the stranger becomes less strange sharing just a fleeting moment with a child who knows no pretenses, just humanity and the desire to speak with those who cross her path. I have met more neighbors and had more conversations with complete strangers simply because Haegan loves people; whether they look like her, sound like her, dress like her, or not. This leads me to Lesson #2…
We spoke of things all fathers might cover with their newborn babies; things like fatherly protection, godly blessings, future adventures, unyielding love, and togetherness. We covered topics like thumb or binky, knit cap or bald head, hospital issue cover-up or embroidered blanket but mostly we just existed together unimpressed by surroundings and unaffected by others. Nestled in my arms, just the two of us, alone in that space, we enjoyed our very first Daddy/Daughter moment, accompanied by coos and cries, hopes and dreams, and the promise of many lessons to come. If I’d only known the lessons of the last three years would be mine, I may have listened more than I did.
Lesson #1 – I am not an Extrovert, Haegan is
I’m fairly reserved. Haegan is not. From early on, Haegan has taught me it is much more fun to engage people than to avoid them. In restaurants and shopping malls, on sidewalks or major thoroughfares, Haegan attracts people in droves by engaging them in ways I could only imagine. She attracts bikers with leather chaps, construction workers with week-old beards and pit stains, women with shopping bags, children on bikes, and crusty old men with facial scowls. She waves, smiles, touches, speaks, sings, or dances her way into each ones glance no matter how hard they try to avoid her. But in that moment, there is no avoiding Haegan. Once eye contact is made, the mood lightens and the stranger becomes less strange sharing just a fleeting moment with a child who knows no pretenses, just humanity and the desire to speak with those who cross her path. I have met more neighbors and had more conversations with complete strangers simply because Haegan loves people; whether they look like her, sound like her, dress like her, or not. This leads me to Lesson #2…
Lesson #2 – Fashion is Irrelevant, Style in Inherent
It has become routine in my household to outfit Haegan in a dress…not necessarily because we want to mind you but because that is the only thing she wants to wear. Once draped in the dress de jour, Haegan completes her outfit with one of the following: a fairy skirt, a hot pink hustler hat, or a band aid, and a pair of princess shoes or high heels, adult size 7. The shoes are constants. She fashions her outfits for dancing, I presume, making her way to the TV in Marilyn Monroe like fashion, dress spinning waist high as she pirouettes to hot-dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog. Her fashion sensibilities may embody that of a Jackson Pollock painting but her style is certainly inspiring. If you like it, wear it, she teaches, whether it’s a panda bear footy under-lying a stripped dress or a princess getup and pelican hat complete with shoes to match. Her creations might not make the fashion circuit but her style is inherent.
Lesson #3 – Silliness is Next to Fo’dittiness!
Breaking away from the monotony of everyday life is one of the great gifts Haegan has afforded me in her three short years. Part of the spice that Haegan has created in my life comes from an invented vocabulary and infectious imagination that our entire family has adopted. We use words like mimi, body, and fo’ditty on a daily basis when describing items near and dear to Haegan’s heart. Her “mimi” was her pacifier, at least until the “Mimi Fairy” came and took it away. She should have come sooner, I suppose, but she came nevertheless, sent by order of the “Mimi Queen” to retrieve all mimis in the house. Her “body” is the embroidered blanket she has had since she was an infant. It is her constant companion when sleepiness arrives and provides the perfect amount of softness only a “body” can. Fo’ditty is the magic word we’ve created for myriad things but mostly it replaces the words like fun, happy, or good in a sentence. For example, “This mac and cheese is fo’ditty,” “Do you feel fo’ditty?,” “That was the fo’dittiest time ever.” I prefer just to shout it out all by itself in a simple exclamation….”Fo’ditty!” It really speaks for itself. Haegan has taught me to be silly…as it is…fo’ditty for the soul!
Lesson #4 – Music Soothes the Colicy Baby
God did not bless me with a great singing voice all though he did bless me with a passion for music. Music accompanies me during workouts and yard work, in the car, on walks around the block, etc. and when we realized Haegan had colic, I learned that music helped her too. For the first six months of her life, she cried from four in the afternoon to around eight at night. Her bouts of incessant crying were more habitual than a rooster’s crow, an event you could set your watch by, and a nerve-racking experience for those who have had the pleasure of a colicy baby. During those moments I would cue up the most (fo’ditty) fun song imaginable and pace the room with Haegan draped in my arms. We’d sing and dance and when the music stopped, she’d often fall asleep or settle down. Haegan’s colic taught me patience in a time when it seemed like the crying would never end. It taught me that small things are often forgotten once the page is turned. Her colic is a distant memory now, but I will always remember how we danced, daddy and daughter, crying or otherwise, in an empty room full of hope and dreams, just her and I and perhaps a subtle sampling of A Tribe Called Quest, AKUS, or Willie Nelson. Our favorite colic song, however, was “Open Road” by the Long Beach Dub Allstars.
Lesson #5 – Love isn’t Always Easy
Three years have passed in the blink of an eye. I still remember an elevator ride at the hospital in which a random man offered his opinion on a newborn in the house. He told me, “Son, if you think your tired now, you just wait.” Of course, he was right…and in the days that followed, I encountered exhaustion I had never known. Rising at the crack of dawn, frequenting the pharmacy at 2:00am, running on four hours of sleep for days on end, I reached a moment when it seemed like sleep would never come. It was hard, just like the elevator-riding mystery man had had explained so plainly days earlier, but it fostered in me a love so deep that looking back now I couldn’t imagine life any other way. I learned from Haegan that love isn’t always easy, in fact, sometimes love is hard. Sometimes loves means making due, whether by dancing to reggae music, sleeping with one eye open, or making late night runs for the Mylicon. But love is worth it and at age three, my love for Haegan has grown from that of a newly christened father instinctively loving a helpless infant into the endless love of a somewhat seasoned dad living life with an active little girl constantly teaching me what it means to lighten up and live a little.
And live a little we have. Happy birthday Little H, may we continue to traipse, and sing, and smile, and play, and tickle, and pat, and laugh, and jump, and swing, and hop, and walk, and love for the rest of the time we have on God’s earth.
It has become routine in my household to outfit Haegan in a dress…not necessarily because we want to mind you but because that is the only thing she wants to wear. Once draped in the dress de jour, Haegan completes her outfit with one of the following: a fairy skirt, a hot pink hustler hat, or a band aid, and a pair of princess shoes or high heels, adult size 7. The shoes are constants. She fashions her outfits for dancing, I presume, making her way to the TV in Marilyn Monroe like fashion, dress spinning waist high as she pirouettes to hot-dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog. Her fashion sensibilities may embody that of a Jackson Pollock painting but her style is certainly inspiring. If you like it, wear it, she teaches, whether it’s a panda bear footy under-lying a stripped dress or a princess getup and pelican hat complete with shoes to match. Her creations might not make the fashion circuit but her style is inherent.
Lesson #3 – Silliness is Next to Fo’dittiness!
Breaking away from the monotony of everyday life is one of the great gifts Haegan has afforded me in her three short years. Part of the spice that Haegan has created in my life comes from an invented vocabulary and infectious imagination that our entire family has adopted. We use words like mimi, body, and fo’ditty on a daily basis when describing items near and dear to Haegan’s heart. Her “mimi” was her pacifier, at least until the “Mimi Fairy” came and took it away. She should have come sooner, I suppose, but she came nevertheless, sent by order of the “Mimi Queen” to retrieve all mimis in the house. Her “body” is the embroidered blanket she has had since she was an infant. It is her constant companion when sleepiness arrives and provides the perfect amount of softness only a “body” can. Fo’ditty is the magic word we’ve created for myriad things but mostly it replaces the words like fun, happy, or good in a sentence. For example, “This mac and cheese is fo’ditty,” “Do you feel fo’ditty?,” “That was the fo’dittiest time ever.” I prefer just to shout it out all by itself in a simple exclamation….”Fo’ditty!” It really speaks for itself. Haegan has taught me to be silly…as it is…fo’ditty for the soul!
Lesson #4 – Music Soothes the Colicy Baby
God did not bless me with a great singing voice all though he did bless me with a passion for music. Music accompanies me during workouts and yard work, in the car, on walks around the block, etc. and when we realized Haegan had colic, I learned that music helped her too. For the first six months of her life, she cried from four in the afternoon to around eight at night. Her bouts of incessant crying were more habitual than a rooster’s crow, an event you could set your watch by, and a nerve-racking experience for those who have had the pleasure of a colicy baby. During those moments I would cue up the most (fo’ditty) fun song imaginable and pace the room with Haegan draped in my arms. We’d sing and dance and when the music stopped, she’d often fall asleep or settle down. Haegan’s colic taught me patience in a time when it seemed like the crying would never end. It taught me that small things are often forgotten once the page is turned. Her colic is a distant memory now, but I will always remember how we danced, daddy and daughter, crying or otherwise, in an empty room full of hope and dreams, just her and I and perhaps a subtle sampling of A Tribe Called Quest, AKUS, or Willie Nelson. Our favorite colic song, however, was “Open Road” by the Long Beach Dub Allstars.
Lesson #5 – Love isn’t Always Easy
Three years have passed in the blink of an eye. I still remember an elevator ride at the hospital in which a random man offered his opinion on a newborn in the house. He told me, “Son, if you think your tired now, you just wait.” Of course, he was right…and in the days that followed, I encountered exhaustion I had never known. Rising at the crack of dawn, frequenting the pharmacy at 2:00am, running on four hours of sleep for days on end, I reached a moment when it seemed like sleep would never come. It was hard, just like the elevator-riding mystery man had had explained so plainly days earlier, but it fostered in me a love so deep that looking back now I couldn’t imagine life any other way. I learned from Haegan that love isn’t always easy, in fact, sometimes love is hard. Sometimes loves means making due, whether by dancing to reggae music, sleeping with one eye open, or making late night runs for the Mylicon. But love is worth it and at age three, my love for Haegan has grown from that of a newly christened father instinctively loving a helpless infant into the endless love of a somewhat seasoned dad living life with an active little girl constantly teaching me what it means to lighten up and live a little.
And live a little we have. Happy birthday Little H, may we continue to traipse, and sing, and smile, and play, and tickle, and pat, and laugh, and jump, and swing, and hop, and walk, and love for the rest of the time we have on God’s earth.
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