DAD, WHY IS THE WORLD?
This Saturday’s ice skating class was nothing to write home about. He skated. He fell. He rested. He scuttled on his hands and knees to the exit when the buzzer sounded.
Still, he was very excited about how well he skated. Were we at the same lesson? What? As I unlaced his skates and tugged them off his feet he asked me something quite profound. “Dad, why is the world? And why are we in it? And then a pause and then added the cherry on top, “And why is it spinning?”
“Conor, those are amazing questions. And you know what, nobody really knows the answers.” “Not even you, Dad?” And in that moment, I realized just how tall my son must think I am.
I laughed, “Nope, not even me, buddy. Now let’s go see how Mom’s doing.” And he ran out the locker room door to find mom. I gathered up his equipment and wondered who my boy will be when he grows up.
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CONOR MEETS KAWLIGA IN AUSTIN FOR THE FIRST TIME
One of my dads's favorite songs when I was growing up was, "Kawliga" by Hank Williams, Sr. It was a song about an old wooden Indian who just stood in front of the tobacco store and never knew love. It was a song of a beautiful Indian maiden who came to the store but because Kawliga was wooden, he could do nothing about another man who came to take the Indian maiden for his own. It was a sad song that would lead a man to drinkin' like all good country songs do. As my son and I passed by the tobacco store on West 7th street in Austin, I felt compelled to take our picture. My wife didn't understand the significance but obliged us just the same.
IF A COW CAN JUMP THE MOON
By the time Conor was 3 weeks old, I was already tired of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star", "You are My Sunshine" and a few other songs I could barely remember from childhood. Bored by the classics, I started making up a song for him and within an hour I had written four verses and a chorus that he seemed to like. Granted he was 3 weeks old but it kept him from crying unlike "The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You," (even though that's not a children't song.) Now Conor is 5 months old and is completely captivated by the song as you can see in this picture. No matter what kind of a rotten day he's having, as soon as I hit the first few notes of the song, he stops crying and starts smiling. Here's the lyrics;
"What Can Little Boys Do When They Try" written and copyrighted by Steve Kolander
If a cow can jump the moon and pigs can learn to fly
What can little boys do when they try
Run and catch a frog, learn to ride a dog
What can little boys do when they try
Find a great big tree, carve a boat and sail the seas
What can little boys do when they try
Build a rocket made of cans, launched with rubber bands
What can little boys do when they try
Try, try, try
What can little boys do when they try, try, try
Anything can happen when you try, try, try
What can little boys do when they try
If a big, bad wolf can smile and three pigs can laugh and cry
What can little boys do when they try
Learn to ride a bike with their hands up in the sky
What can little boys do when they try
Tame a lion with a chair
Juggle monkeys, hug a bear
What can little boys do when they try
Learn to go to bed when their pillow hits their head
What can little boys do when they try
Repeat Chorus and go to bed
THREE DAYS ALONE WITH MY SON
My wife left for a 3-day seminar at 8am while Conor and I waved goodbye from our rocking chair. He was eating and I was holding one eye open while the other tried to catch up on the last bit of sleep that never seems to be enough. I was plenty used to waking up at 6-8am in the morning to feed him. Pretty much every morning. But on weekdays, I leave for work and hand Conor to his mom as he is wide awake after this feeding. And on the weekends, I play with him until about 11am when my wife leisurely wakes up and I hand her the child as I’m ready for a break.
But this weekend, there was no hand-off. He was all mine. For about the first two months of Conor’s existence, it was pretty easy, relatively speaking, to keep up with him. He was either sleeping, eating, pooping or burping. That was it. So I knew how to keep him happy by feeding him, rocking him, changing him or burping him. But something had happened in the last month that I hadn’t realized. After Conor wakes up at 6am, he doesn’t really sleep again until 9:30pm. If you do the math (and I had to count on my fingers), that’s 15 hours of infant entertainment that he’s counting on.
I sang to him and talked with him until I couldn’t stand the sound of my own voice anymore. Seriously, at some point as much as I wanted to tell him things and make commentary about what the dog was doing, I just didn’t want to hear myself anymore. I wrote Conor a song when he was 3 weeks old and I don’t care if I never hear that song again. If I never sing the words, “Twinkle little star," it’ll be too soon. My back was hurting from carrying him around and my head was hurting from thinking up ways to make him stop crying at times when feeding, changing and burping were no longer the instigators.
And that was just day one. After that, I realized I needed to regroup, just me, myself and I. This one-man show 15 hours a day was unsustainable. There was a new sheriff in town and things were going to be different around here. let’s mark ‘em off;
1. We initiated nap times. (I tried more but no luck.) I discovered that 11:30, approximately 5 hours after he’d been awake, he was willing to take a short 30 minute nap. And when he slept, my gosh, so did I. The second nap came around 3:30. This nap interestingly enough, lasted a glorious hour and a half. Like the first, I took full advantage and slept too.
2. Second, I needed to discover some more patterns out to maximize our efforts for play. These included;
a. guitar playing for about 20 minutes. He loves to hear “Twinkle, Twinkle LIttle Star” plucked on the guitar high up on the neck. He never ever failed smile at this. We then follow the concert up with a song I once wrote for the Dixie Chicks called, “Desire”. this is an adult song and he acts like one when I play it. He gets serious but is intrigued, He then will wave his arms and kick his feet, totally involved. During the weekend, I wrote a song for him called, “Big Dreams” and the recurring phrase is “Smiling, we just kept smiling”. Whenever I say this word, he breaks into a huge smile and kicks and flails his arms. It’s hilarious. Then we end the concert with...you guessed it, “Twinkle, Twinkle” plucked on the guitar. I tried playing the concertina for him (an Irish accordion) but he sticks his bottom lip out. He’s right, I suck at it.
b. I put him on my wife’s pillow and I lay down next to him and I read to him Mother Goose stories. Georgie Porgy makes him laugh but I have no idea why. I can read about 4 or 5 stories and after about 5 to 10 minutes he loses interest. But hey, that’s 10 minutes of laughter, bonding and quiet.
c. Next, we move to the crib gym, a gym i had as a kid. My mom sent it to me when Conor was born and he loves that thing. They don’t have them in the stores because they’ve probably been deemed too dangerous but I’m still alive and so is he. this can maybe last 20 minutes and since he can do this on his own, it gives me a chance to go downstairs and boil the bottles that have been collecting.
d. After the gym, he needs his diaper changed. Must be all that straining. After that, its time for a feeding. And if it’s not nap time thereafter, then we’ll move to the mat for tummy time where he lays on his tummy and in order to look around must pick his head up. This strengthens his neck muscles, which are getting stronger by the day.
e. I then just pick him up and walk him around the house, looking out the window and talking to the dog. He likes climbing the stairs. Must be the bouncing action. We do this for about 15 minutes and then I put him in his lounging chair and buckle him up. This allows him to look around while I prepare lunch, take a shower, clean the kitchen, living room or bedroom.
f. Sometimes, he just had to hang out on his own in his crib while I got stuff done like bathroom breaks, telephone calls, emails, etc.
3. Thirdly, I realized I couldn’t come a calling every time he cried or else I might as well have him superglued to me. So I decided sometimes when he cried, if I knew he had been fed, changed and burped that he was in no real need. I would look into his crib to make sure he was in no danger and then i let him cry. That is not easy to do for a new dad. But I decided it was in the best interest for both of us to get this part of the partnership. (This was actually how the nap part got instigated. I realized twice when I put him in the crib and left him alone that he fell asleep. Once he did it, I knew he’d do it again. And planned according to the clock the exact same scenario the following day and it worked. That was five days ago now, and it’s still working much to the delight of my wife!)
By the time the weekend had come to a close, I felt that I had gotten to know my son better. That we had found new ways to communicate with repeatability. And that by instituting some new changes like nap times, that I had contributed to the family in a meaningful way.
Now I’m on a plane to Germany to shoot two short documentary-like films as I leave behind my wife and son for the second time. It’s difficult but it makes it easier after spending three intense days with Conor. It’s actually more difficult leaving my wife this time because I finally know what its like for her to go through this every day of every week, not just three days. For her patience, love and understanding, I am grateful.