Lil s vs. dad, day one

6:24 A.M. I hear lil s pounding on her crib, mind you, I went to be at about 1:15 because I closed the previous night at the library. Was I excited? Well, obviously. I quickly hopped out of bed grabbed three random toys from her pack and play and tossed them in her crib and turned on the light. Back to bed.

6:57 A.M. Apparently tired of looking at books and playing with spongy toys, lil s is crying again. Everything she had in her crib is now lying on the floor.

7-7:30-I try and convince myself that I can nap for a bit. What's that noise I hear? It sounds suspiciously like a small baby playing in toilet water. And that's why you put the toilet seat down. I walk in the bathroom and witness her swirling her hand around in the toilet. She proudly displays her hand. "Icky" means nothing to this girl.

We head downstairs for breakfast. This is maybe the one part of the day that goes off without a hitch. Post-breakfast she's up and around trying to dig through the trash for treasures, I moved it, dropping a large glass measuring cup on the ground etc. before I convince her to read a book or two. At which point, she decides that what's way better than politely listening to a book is practicing her jumping by using my stomach as a launching/landing point.

Things are going rough, so I move to the couch. She cutely comes over and says "Up" in her super high-pitched voice, and I consent. Now that she's close to me she launches her attack on my glasses, prying them first from my face and then after I say, "Hey, those are daddy's glasses" and try to gently take them away without problems, except that she grips them tightly, and proceeds to bend the two frames into a ninety degree angle. Was I amused? I think not. I put her on the ground and told her she was no longer welcome on the couch. Her response, "Up?"

It's nap time. Enough trouble. I've had my five hours of sleep, so I'm counting on something from 1.5 to 2 hours. She sleeps for an hour and wakes up in a pile of poop. I wake up bleary eyed looking for a pair of ear plugs. Once downstairs she heads straight for her toys, tossing them out behind herself in a frenzy. It's time to take control of the day.

10:15-11:30 Walk time. We share a graham cracker on the way whilst enjoying a sunny day. After, I stop off in a small green space and let her run around. Is there anything cuter than a child who has just learned to walk chasing after their own shadow and laughing with glee? Probably not. Something about seeing lil s running outside fills my heart with all sorts of rich and complexly loving and tender feelings. She's exquisitely adorable.

Indoors we put together a rapid fire lunch. I squeeze in a shower, change a diaper, get here out of her shoes, do the dad thing. She gets lunch. I get lunch. We've made peace. My glasses now fall off my face if I forget to bend them every five minutes or so. I slap on a tie and am ready to head out the door, grab some milk to drink post-workout and.....

I'm sitting on the couch waiting for our nanny when I suddenly realize that my as- is wet. Am I peeing? No, that's right, lil s has crept up behind me and spilled the container of milk on the couch and all over my pants. In the kitchen I discover that she's also dropped her milk bottle on the floor, and the contents have leaked out all over the floor. It's time for work! And we're off to a great start. At some point I also put her in her first time out, which consisted of me holding her arms down in place for two seconds while she yelled at me. I think it worked.