Finding What's Really Important

I was wondering tonight exactly how it is that a five month old girl can get two 30+ adults to dance around the kitchen in the hope of a smile.

I just have to repeat that because I don't really think I believe what I'm writing. I've trudged home after a 12 hour day at work, ready for the welcome embrace of the couch. Then I see my daughter and go from feeling like collapsing to getting the urge to dance around the kitchen for a smile.

Now dancing is not our forte, and so we have to be fairly desparate to start something like that, especially in a kitchen the size of ours, especially when there's no music on and we're trying to avoid the squeaky floor boards to keep on the good side of our neighbour below.

Dancing is meant to be fun, and I only realise how seriously I'm taking it when Sophie doesn't smile. The feeling of disapointment actually hurts (though when I add a bit of singing to go along with the dancing the smile comes - even if it looks more like one of pity than genuine enjoyment on her part).

Thinking about this makes me realise again that the value I get from Sophie is greater than anything I get from work. All the busy running around of the day is what success is supposed to be like, but while 12 hours of that might bring in something for the company, for me it doesn't bring the same satisfaction of 30 second dance for a smile.

I guess that's because Sophie isn't work, she's what I'm working for.

Growing Up - Staring Eyes and Poking Tongues

It's amazing how things change every day, I thought it was all moving fast in the beginning, that transition from Sophie being inside my pregnant wife to out here in the real world was amazing enough. I thought that nothing could top it when Sophie came home from the hospital, but she just seems to change faster and faster, and every day brings something new.

Now when she's being carried in the Baby Bjorn I don't have to worry about her head bumping around, it goes exactly where she wants it (though I've learnt that the more uncomfortable it looks the happier she probably is). Unfortunately the days of having her tucked in facing me are very much over.

Much to my distress, suddenly Dad's chest is not the most fascinating thing around, the outside world is much more exciting, especially other people. Not great for a Dad's ego when he's ignored and complete strangers take her full attention. She just stares at them, and to make things worse, she's started getting a reflex action: the harder she stares, the more her tongue pokes out.

So we're walking around the Sainsbury's in Streatham with Sophie in the Baby Bjorn. Her eyes are wide open, she's grinning, and her tongue is hanging out.

My first thought is that this is London and you should never stare at anyone, but it's time for me to get an education because all she gets are smiles.

Babies, it seems, can get away with anything, even in London.

First Smile and Wish Fulfilment

I'm not a great believer in wish fulfilment, I think that people have to work for what they get and that if something comes too easily then it's not always valued as much as it should be. That said, like most people I know, this should be applied to others more than to me - I'm the exception!

A few nights ago I was saying to my wife that it was about time we had some reward. I'm a technical person and like things to "plug and play". So much so that despite the books I'd read, when my new baby turned up I was expecting talking within a few days. Maybe not full conversations, but perhaps enough to talk about the weather (she is English after all!). Not only did I not get talking, I didn't get her eyes focused on me. This daughter of mine was definitely one toy that wasn't going to work straight out of the box.

But back to my reward, two nights after I said this I was changing her nappy and she was in a great mood. It was one of those father and daughter bonding moments when she was kicking and cooing and there it was - a smile. Naturally suspicious, I waited for the inevitable burp or bowel movement that had followed these face pullings in the past. And waited. And waited. Nothing.

So there it was, her first smile, and I feel I've earned it with hours of jiggling and rocking and walking up and down the room. It might be that smiles are free, but I've never worked so hard for one or felt so great when it came, than my daughter's first smile to her Dad.