I forgot to turn the baby monitor on last night which, as you’d expect, meant Sienna was due for a nightmare. I woke up sometime before 6 when Elaine brought our hysterical daughter into our bed. I hadn’t heard her screaming, but Elaine had. Apparently she went into Sienna’s room and the girl was an absolute wreck – wailing like a banshee, tears and snot streaking down her face, body trembling. She could have been screaming for hours before Elaine finally heard her for all we know. My amazing wife did her best to comfort her, rocking her in a chair, but the trembling and crying didn’t stop. Eventually she decided to bring her to our room and soon afterwards, Sienna calmed down. After about an hour or so, she fell asleep.

I don’t remember much. I recall stroking Sienna’s hair and back while half asleep. At one point I went to the bathroom which evidently led to Sienna going nuts and calling out, “Daddy! Daddy!” until I came back. I never heard this, but Elaine told me about it while she was getting ready for work. I have to say that although I felt some surprise, the overwhelming emotion filling my body was love…love for this little girl who was so terrified that I’d left the room. She needed me! My daughter needed me and through her words and actions showed her love for me.

It makes me wonder about that nightmare. Was I in it? Did something bad happen to me? Is that why she panicked when I left the room? You know, it doesn’t matter. I’d rather think she needed the security of both of us in that moment and she freaked when I left. Regardless, this nightmare proved a few things: 1) Sienna calls me “Daddy” 2) She needs and loves me 3) I can no longer think of a time when I loved my daughter more.

Sienna’s napping now and I hope her dreams are sweet. And Daddy, who thanks to an awful nightmare got to experience a deep feeling of love, will be right here when she awakes.

One thing that Elaine and I are consciously attempting to avoid is being “one-uppers” (people that hear or see the progress or accomplishments of someone else’s children and then come back with something like, “XXX sang the National Anthem at 11 months!”). There’s pride and then there’s obnoxiousness. There’s a statement of fact and then there’s boasting. There’s natural conversation and then there’s setting a dangerous precedent. I know that every parent feels their child is extra special. I’m no different, especially since I never thought I’d have a girlfriend, let alone a child. However, that doesn’t mean Sienna is extra special in the grand scheme of life. She’s just extra special to me, Elaine and probably members of my immediate family. I try my best not to let that personal feeling affect how I interact with people regarding my daughter.

For the most part I tend not to tell people about Sienna’s developmental progress or if I’m talking to someone and the topic comes up, I just say she did so-and-so at whatever month and leave it at that. Sienna walked early and when asked about it, I’m realistic. It’s an awesome thing, sure, but man, it also means extra months of me chasing after her! She’s an early climber, which is great, but it also means that I have to watch her like a hawk earlier than I would have liked. Her pediatrician says that she’s months ahead of where she should be, and while I’m proud of her, I know that I’m losing less time for myself, and for a stay-at-home dad, that’s a bit difficult. There are so many times when I just want to leave her in her crib because I’m tired or I want to take care of something, but I know I can’t. That’s something you lose as your child gets older and develops skills. It’s not a bad thing, but it can be exhausting physically and mentally.

One thing I do worry quite a lot about is posting on Facebook. Like almost everyone, I post about some of her developmental milestones. She crawled! She walked! She said, “Daddy!” I can’t help those things, because I’m so excited and proud and want to share it, but I feel anxious that people will misread it as gloating or feel inadequate because their children are progressing at a different rate. When I posted that Sienna walked for the first time, one of my friends responded that he was upset that his son who is 3-5 months older (not sure exactly) still hadn’t taken his first step. Such things makes me nervous about posting on Facebook even though I want to share the joy I feel about my daughter.

The same can be said when it comes to posting photos. My best friend told me to take tons and tons of photos because I’ll forget each stage as Sienna grows. And so I try not to leave the apartment with Sienna without having my camera. I then post tons of pics on Facebook mostly because I like making ridiculous captions and so my family and friends can share in the pics if they so choose, but I know there are people out there who could care less. I always feel anxious about posting pics; I don’t want people to feel I’m boasting.

The dangerous precedent I referred to earlier when it comes to being a “one-upper” is unhealthy competition, both for the parent and the child. I’m no better than anyone else (in fact, through therapy I’m still trying to learn that I’m just as good as anyone else, though right now, that belief remains elusive). And Sienna? Well, she’s no better than any other 16-mo-old.

I plan to blog about the perils of competition some other time; I feel competition warped my self-worth long before I had a chance to create an identity. But today it’s all about one-upping. In my opinion, one-upping can lead the parent into an awful behavioral pattern while the child inadvertently absorbs pressure and perhaps, even the belief that he/she is superior to someone else. Maybe that’s one of the thing that leads to bullying? Who knows? It’s certainly possible.