Second straight “major” event that did not lead to me panicking. Sienna tripped and smacked into a bookcase leaving a boxing-type bruise across the bridge of her nose. I don’t know if it was because Elaine was home or if it’s because I’m continuing to grow, but this is the second straight time (after Sienna losing her shoe in the city) where I didn’t completely fall apart. This pic and blog post will serve as a reminder (I hope).

One of the things I most struggle with is nap scheduling – do I stick to a strict or relaxed schedule? So far I’ve done the former unless it’s absolutely impossible. Sienna generally gets put down for her nap between 1 and 2 pm and she’ll sleep anywhere from 45 minutes to 3+ hours. I’m always nervous when I have to break the schedule, and that fear is one of the reasons I’ve missed a number of NYC Dads Group meetups that I wouldn’t have minded attending. I’ve noticed at a number of the meetups I’ve gone to a number of dads take off early because it’s nap-time, but they have the luxury of living in Manhattan while I live in Queens, so it’s a bit of a production for me to go, and since I live close to the LIRR, I can’t just hop on the subway and be home in 20 minutes.

I bring this up for a couple of reasons. First, my parents decided to pay for Sienna to attend a couple of classes for her 1st birthday, something which Elaine and I have yet to take advantage. There’s a class at the Alley Pond Environmental Center (APEC) beginning on Wednesday, September 11th at 3:30 which is right smack in the middle of Sienna’s nap-time. The class description is as follows: “Open up the world of nature to your wee ones! Let your child’s first learning experience be at APEC. Children will pet animals, enjoy free play with environmental toys, go on mini-nature walks and have a snack.” It sounds perfect, especially because APEC is walking distance from out apartment, but I’ve hedged for weeks about signing Sienna up because I’m so anxious about screwing up napping. I just don’t know what to do. Should I move lunch up an hour and put her down from 12-1 and hope she wakes in time? Should I put her down at the normal time and wake her up for class? Should I not sign her up at all and instead find something that fits her schedule? On and on and on go the questions, pestering me to no end and making me more and more apprehensive. It’s only 1 day a week, right? Why am I frightened about this?

In addition to worrying about the APEC class, the NYC Dads Group announced a meetup at Citifield where Sienna would have the chance to meet Elmo and, much more importantly, Cookie Monster. Sienna LOVES Cookie Monster and meeting him in the fur would blow her mind!

Sienna’s all smiles holding a Cookie Monster bath thingy. She saw it in the supermarket and yelled, “Cookie!!!!” Elaine gave her the choice of Elmo or Cookie and Sienna immediately chose the latter…that’s my girl!

The meetup begins at 12:30 (Sienna’s lunch time) and extends through the Mets game which begins at 1:10. It costs $29 and includes meeting Cookie Monster and Elmo, pictures, a seat at the game, a hot dog, and a drink. I’d LOVE for Sienna to meet Cookie Monster, but I don’t want to pay the money if we don’t stay for the game, even if it is the Mets (I’d love for Sienna’s 1st baseball game to be at Yankee Stadium, but she could wear her Jeter shirt and I have to admit, my 1st game was at Shea…I even remember the pitcher – Pat Zachary…and I wound up a Yankee fan lol). Is it wise to take a 17-month-old to a ballgame? She’d have to completely forgo her nap.

What should I do? Am I thinking too much about this? Should I sign her up for the class? Should I take her to meet Cookie Monster? Do I need to learn to be more flexible when it comes to naps? How do I learn to be lessen my anxiety about nap scheduling?

I just want to do what’s best for my little girl

I’ve written a lot about my childhood; about how I was under enormous pressure because I was in the gifted program at my elementary school, about how they separated us and created a sick competition; about how I internalized comments from my parents; and how about in the end I’ve wound up depressed, anxious, and constantly felt like a failure. There were, of course, a number of other elements (physical deformity, etc.) that affected me and added to my eventual nervous breakdown, but I definitely go back to that elementary school having a huge, negative influence on shaping my identity.

Today I was sent an article by a friend titled “19 Reasons It’s Horrible To Grow Up Gifted” and I was amazed at how much it hit home. The article quotes a number of Reddit users who answered the question, “[For those] labeled as gifted children, do you think the label harmed you, or helped you?” Not every response applies to me (I never developed a superiority complex, for instance), but the ones about pressure, anxiety, constantly feeling like a failure, “Us vs. Them,” becoming marks for bullies, fierce competition, etc., sure did.

I urge every parent out there to read this article and give it serious thought whether your child is gifted or not. I, for one, worry a lot about Sienna possibly being gifted. If she is I’ll do my due diligence to make sure the school she attends is completely different from the one I went to (as one of my best friends [who I happened to meet in elementary school and is thus a fellow “survivor”] did when he investigated and ultimately refused to let his gifted son go to a specific school despite his being accepted into a magnet program), and I’ll do my best not to put pressure on her and to be there should she need to talk. The best way to prevent such things as happened to myself, many of my classmates, peers, these Reddit users, and who knows how many others around the country is through education and not just the type that occurs within school walls.

I didn’t panic. Sienna lost her shoe somewhere in Manhattan right before a large NYC Dads Group meetup at The Art of the Brick exhibition at Discovery Times Square and I didn’t panic. I didn’t freak out even though I knew we couldn’t bring strollers into the exhibit. I didn’t even lose it when I dug through Sienna’s diaper bag in search of the socks that are always there only to discover they weren’t. The fact that I didn’t panic didn’t even occur to me until after the meetup when Elaine called to tell me she was proud of me (I had immediately texted her about the lost shoe and she quickly ordered a new pair from Zappos). It feels weird, strange, looking back on this (my therapist always says, “Weird is good” because it means I’m not feeling my usual pessimism and anxiety). I don’t know if this is the start of something or if it’s a singular event. Was it because I was around two fellow dads with whom I felt comfortable and they both said that it happens to everyone? Was it because I really am growing? I don’t want to analyze it too much and am doing my best not to, but my brain keeps coming back to it. Why didn’t I panic??? Let me write about our trip to Discovery Times Square while I ponder.

Sienna and I in front of a LEGO Easter Island head. Note Sienna’s shoeless foot

“The Art of the Brick” is a brilliant collection of LEGO sculptures and pictures (such as “Starry Night” and “Scream”) created by artist, Nathan Sawaya. The work is simply amazing and ranges from reproductions of famous pieces of art to highly original and imaginative creations (including a T-Rex that took up an entire room!). I wish I had an ounce of Sawaya’s talent! If the instructions for building something aren’t on a LEGO box, I just stack blocks together into, well, stacks of blocks. There was a large group of dads and their kids who attended the meetup, but I wound up sticking with my friends Christopher (and daughter Camilla) and Larry (and son Peter) the entire time. We went at our own leisurely pace, often attempting (and failing) to have our kids pose in front of our favorite pieces. Sienna was the least cooperative on that front as all she wanted to do was run run run!

Peter, Camilla, and Sienna. Note my hand trying to keep Sienna from running off

I definitely want to return to the exhibit so I can really see things up and close and read all I can about Sawaya’s process because during this trip, I mostly saw this:

I highly recommend “The Art of the Brick” and I think it’s a great place to take older children, especially LEGO fanatics. I could imagine how older kids would run home, grab some LEGOS and just start creating.

Now back to that not panicking thing which has muddled my brain just as much as anxiety attacks tend to. I cannot stop attempting to figure out why it didn’t happen, which falls into my pattern of needing to understand everything about my life, my mind and the world – from why people like me to why I can’t seem to pull that switch and become an optimistic and happy person. As I’ve said before, my therapist is always telling me that I need to stop trying to understand and instead learn to accept things. Larry echoed this advice when I got the text from Elaine about how she was proud of me for holding up (Christopher had departed by then and Larry and I decided to grab lunch). I need to accept that I didn’t panic when Sienna lost her shoe right before a large contingent of dads went through an art exhibition at which no strollers were allowed. I need to believe and embrace it and see it as a step forward rather than trying to scrutinize it to death. I just need to accept it.

My wife and I just finished watching A Good Die To Die Hard, the fifth installment in the ongoing saga(?) of wisecracking cowboy-cop, John McLane (Bruce Willis). Now, McLane has never been painted much as a great father or husband – remember how good ole John was separated from his wife before taking down Hans Gruber (the incomparable Alan Rickman) at the end of Die Hard (arguably the greatest action films ever made)? – but that’s generally because he was married to his work and he couldn’t juggle being a cop with having a family. By the third film McLane is divorced. By the fourth film he’s estranged from his daughter. This most recent film has John traveling to Russia to find out why his son is in prison.

I’m not even going to go into the plot since it’s so nonsensical, so let’s skip right to McLane’s character. Usually a fun, flawed guy, this John McLane comes off as nothing short of a bully. When he finds out his son has been working undercover for the CIA for three years, there’s zero pride; he simply says he suspected John Jr. of selling drugs. I think this is meant to be a joke, but if so, it flops script-wise AND gives off a terrible message to parents.

At another point, Jr. is impaled by a thick piece of metal after which we have a five or so minute sequence during which McLane and his heavily buff, highly trained CIA son have the following conversation:

John: You’re not gonna cry, are you?

Jack: Just pull it.

John: Everybody needs a good cry once in awhile, Jack. Don’t be ashamed.

Jack: Pull it.

John: You remember that time when you and Ralphie Mauser were gonna have that house-painting job? Got your finger caught in the ladder? You cried for about 5, 6 days.

Jack: John, just pull it!

Again, I think this supposed to be a humorous scene, but how does John McClane not come off as an uncaring bastard here? His son who he came all the way to Russia to find and help has been injured and he’s giving him “tough guy” lessons? “Oh, is the little CIA boy gonna cry?” And this comes after an earlier scene where John laments neglecting his son (which Jack overhears).

By the time the obligatory “I love you” (from both father and son) came around, it was too late for this stay-at-home dad as McLane had already proven himself to be a terrible dad and really hasn’t learned all that much; it doesn’t help that neither father nor son can really look at each other when attempting to emote. According to A Good Day To Die Hard, to be a McLane is to be overly tough and withholding.

Worse, to be a dad is to be a bully.