Episode 100: Oh wait, you mean this gets harder?

Fun Fact: Av, prancing around without her diaper, pooped on the playroom floor today. Then she stepped in it. Now on to today's post.

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Somewhere in between the birth of my daughter a year and a half ago and sitting down to write this blog post I managed to convince myself that I had figured out how to parent. I'm not sure when or why this happened, or what exactly I did to fool myself in to thinking that I had any idea what I was doing, but the truth is I still don't.

Nothing in particular happened to remind me of this fact, I just kind of remembered today and it made a whole lot of sense. Maybe it is because she is still alive and (probably) not retarded, or maybe it is just because I am so used to having her around, but let's not fool ourselves here. I may have been successful despite myself, but in no way do I have any sort of a clue.

With Monica's dreaded, yet necessary return to work creeping up in just a few weeks I am starting to to think about what it is going to be like spending the whole day with Av again. Not because I don't want to, it is more because I feel like I have once again fallen behind. This is the case with just about everything in my life. I have little to no career and no contact with the corporate world, I am just now getting up to date on such mid- 2000's technology as the iPod, and I can't seem to operate these new fangled computers that all these kids have now days. What ever happened to hyperlinks?

Today I read an article on Yahoo! that explained how the high school graduating class of 2014 will be the first class to enter college and no longer communicate through email. What? No more email? Where is it going? What will it be replaced by? Apparently there is something called Skype, which is an internet phone I am told, that people seem to use a lot. Others seem to think that cell phones and social networking sites will replace email as a communication device. This is my nightmare. Email is perfect. You can say and do whatever you want and you never have to talk to anyone. When I was at the newspaper and I had to get in touch with someone new, they would always get an email before a phone call. People are mean when they pick up the phone and I am horribly anxious when I call them. If phone calls were like a golf club to the face, which is how they often make me feel, email would be like a foam bat. Even today I prefer it. Hell, most days I would rather email my mom than call her. It is so much easier and I can think out my responses. Plus, if you answer a question in a short tone, or aren't as perky as the person you are speaking with would like, you don't have to listen to that 'what's the matter?' crap.

Also, why does anyone need an Internet phone? Can someone explain that to me? So... you have a cell phone. Or at the very least a home phone, right? And you have email and Facebook, so... where does this Internet phone come in? I just don't get it. Is it like video phone? I would hate that. What if you get a call while you are sitting in your boxers eating cheese and crackers on the couch? I wouldn't answer it. Then what happens? Does your computer bug you about a missed call? I am so confused. Oh, what? Like I'm the only one that eats underwear snacks? Please. Fun Fact #2: Sometimes I also eat pop sickles on the toilet.

The point is, I am being left behind in life and it is spiraling me in to a pre mid life crisis crisis. It get's no better in my life as a dad. It isn't for lack of effort, I am home more than I am not. I am definitely not one of those dads that plays fantasy football or golf or sneaks out to buy cigarettes and downs three IPA's at the bar while in the process. If I'm not at work, I'm probably home. Boring? Sure. But, let's be honest, most of those dads that do that don't want to be friends with a guy like me anyway. The problem is that Monica was so efficient in parenting this summer and the baby has made so many strides while they spend time together, I am simply struggling to keep up. I have this nightmare that the first day Monica goes back to work is going to be eight hours of Av messing with me just to see what she can get away with. I told Monica today that I am going to need to get a printed list of rules and regulations and some enforcement tips. It was a lot easier three months ago when she didn't talk much and had trouble comprehending simple tasks. Now she spends her day running from room to room, always talking, always playing with something that she shouldn't. Plus, she talks to strangers a lot more, too. That just means that I am also going to have to start acknowledging them more, which means more uncomfortable conversations, which means more anxiety.

(Just a side note: I did make some strides at the beach last week. A child around Av's age kept coming over to play with us and ended up latching on to me for the whole day. I did a nice job of being her temporary friend and I even interacted with her goatee dad without being weird or antisocial. See, I can do it. It just has to be the right day).

I am a little bit worried about the baby starting nursery school in the fall, too. It is just a few hours a week, but I feel like she isn't coordinated, intelligent or social enough to get through it. She is so big and clumsy she has trouble with motor skills, walking up stairs and other simple tasks and no matter how many times she falls on her face she still can't figure out that she should probably walk through the house instead of constantly traveling at a dead sprint. Oh, and she also likes to touch other kids. I'm pretty sure that gets you kicked out of school these days.

Yesterday we went to this 'introductory pool party' at her school, which would have been cool if any of the other kids from her class showed up, but they didn't. There were plenty of older kids there, running and swimming by themselves while their parents compared lawn chairs, but all of the kids from her age group were missing. This can be directly attributed to the fact that the party started at 6 p.m., which is like 45 minutes before Av turns in to the evil 'I have to go to sleep' gremlin, so I am sure the other parents were just much smarter than us and stayed home to avoid creating a bad first impression.

We went, though, and although Av was very well behaved, she pretty much stood out as the weirdo of the bunch. She should get used to that, she had no shot from the start, I am her dad. The first problem was that she wasn't able to swim (she is currently battling a nasty, disgusting vagina rash that flares up when it meets chlorine), and as a result filled the void by running around with her head down, shying away from other kids and flirting with teen aged lifeguards. Worse still, the women running the program insisted that the goal was more to get us to meet with other parents and 'network.' As you can imagine, this did not thrill me.

Just as if it had been our first day of school, the ladies encouraged us to meet with other moms and dads, even introducing us to one woman awkwardly next to the pool. This woman had no interest in talking to us. None of the parents have any interest in talking to us. It is like we are outcast. Young, irresponsible, not business savvy, whatever. I don't want to talk to them anyway. I think most of the problem is that the school is at the new, multi-million dollar Marblehead YMCA. For those of you not familiar with Marblehead, it is a lovely seaside village that at some point lost it's tough, salty fisherman's identity and became home to yacht-owning, snooty, aristocratic, BMW-driving trophy wives and their popped-collar douche bag kids. I lost my train of thought here. Sorry. The point is, these people don't want to be our friends, so we left the pool party.

The thought of Av having to make it on her own at that school is rough enough, but the other days that she is home will be just as challenging for me to handle. How the hell do you keep an almost 2-year-old with non stop energy happy? Well, we'll probably find out together.

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Music.

So, I don't particularly care for the band 'Of Montreal.' The music is just too peppy, gimmicky and drugged out for me. That said, their new song kicks ass. It sounds to me like what the White Stripes would sound like if they had a full band and a pussy indie rock singer in Jack White's place. Now that I read that, I realize that a full band without Jack White singing would be the exact opposite of the White Stripes, so scratch that observation. I just think this song is really cool. I can't get enough of it, actually. And it has a funky-ass baseline. Nice work, Of Montreal. You have temporarily won me over.