Let’s try something different here. Instead of relating some news of the day, I’m going to take you on a trip down memory lane. Something from the past. Something that helped forge me into the jamoalki I am today.
Does it seem like I’m stalling? Well, that’s because I am. I have no idea what to type next, so this is turning into a stream of procrastinating consciousness. Blargh!
Before jamoalki was conceived, I went by another moniker online. You can find it all over: Not in any real meaningful way, just for different social media sites and such. It was my screen/user name for everything. And it all had to do with my firstborn. The MO in jamoalki.
The origin was that she wasn’t my little girl; I was her daddy. She held all the sway in the dynamic. If it benefitted her, I did it. If she needed something, I would get it for her. I was hopeless.
From the start, I was determined that any experience she had, I wanted to have. I’d gone through shots and all that in my life, had worn diapers and such, so none of those things. But everything we were going to feed her, I had to try as well. Yes, this included breast milk. Medicines, yep. All the soaps and lotions we used went in my eyes so I would know what was going to happen. It turns out that 100% pure “tear-free” shampoo will, in fact, sting like hell.
I was so lucky to be able to be a mostly stay-at-home dad with her. I loved being with her, taking her places, talking to her, singing to her, dancing with h…(record scratch)!
Dancing?
Me?!
Oh, yes, indeed. To the tune of Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely,” in fact.
The whole experience just felt right to me. That being her daddy was what I was supposed to be doing. I became super in tune with her. Little noises, motions, and even the lack of these things spoke volumes to me.
I remember one instance were we sitting in the living room watching Baby Einstein, we were singing along and having fun. I turned my head to look at the screen for a second, and my daddy-sense went off. I reached back behind me and cradled her body just as she was falling over. Now, I know this is a meaningless event, but at the moment, it just felt so powerful.
Of course, I was all about protecting her as well. We were at a roller skating party for one of her sister’s school events. I was carrying her around as all the skaters in the family were enjoying themselves. I spotted this kid, maybe eight years old, headed our way, clearly out of control. He was going to bump into us, bump into me holding my little girl. I made a split decision…
Did you know they teach police officers that if you’re going to be in a head-on collision, you should speed up? The driver with the car with the most momentum is the more likely survivor of the crash.
…I lowered the shoulder opposite the one I was carrying my girl on and laid out that freaking kid. He had no idea what hit him. Not on my watch buddy.
Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed this installment of Jp’s History.
How many times have you ever felt like you were where you belonged?