My early approach to parenting depended heavily on Barney and Pooh Bear videos

Elissa and Chloe, circa 1997

Back in the days when I worked nights and took care of Elissa all day, I had a go-to set of VHS tapes I would unashamedly use to distract her while I got stuff done.

This particular parenting technique is almost as old as television itself. You give the kid some Cheerios and a freshly filled sippy cup, sit them down in front of the TV, and let them happily watch something fun and age-appropriate while you fold laundry or whatever.

We had a wide range of videos we would show toddler Elissa, but the ones in heaviest rotation were undoubtedly Barney and Winnie the Pooh.

I know a lot of parents turn their noses up at Barney because...I don't know why? Because they think they and their kids are too cool for a goofy purple dinosaur? Eh, whatever. All I know is that goofy purple dinosaur did a whole lot to reinforce the lessons we were already teaching our kid about kindness, politeness, and putting the needs of others on par with or above your own.

God forbid, huh?

As for Pooh Bear, those videos were hilarious. There was a lot of adult humor in there that would make me laugh whenever I was able to pay some attention to the TV. Tigger alone is always worth the price of admission.

There were times I would feel guilty for pawning my parental responsibilities off on the VCR, but in retrospect, it was fine. There are certain things that must get done around the house, and sometimes you need electronic assistance in getting them done while simultaneously keeping your kid from wandering off and, say, tumbling down the basement steps.

Ultimately, all of our kids turned out OK. Maybe a tad neurotic like Pooh Bear himself, but really, who among us isn't?

The eldest child who can't possibly be as old as the calendar says she is

 

There are many things that date this photo, including:

• The fact that I have all black hair
• My stone-washed jeans
• I'm reading a print newspaper (OK, I still do that every day)
• The little girl I'm holding—somehow, inexplicably—is suddenly 27 years old 

That little girl is our oldest daughter Elissa, who is celebrating a birthday today. It is always a milestone when your oldest turns a new age because, you know, this is new territory for her/him and for you. Neither of you has been here before, so it's always a new adventure.

My in-laws, Tom and Judy, liked to tell the story about Elissa's birth. They were in the waiting room at the hospital when I came bursting out, still wearing my scrubs, and said (seemingly all in one breath), "It's a girl! She's beautiful!"

And she was beautiful. She is beautiful.

She has been my buddy since long before she can remember. For a couple of years when Terry worked days and I worked nights, I took care of Elissa all day long. We went everywhere together. We had scheduled feedings and nap times (hers, not mine, unfortunately). We watched countless episodes of Barney and Winnie the Pooh.

Then, as children are wont to do, she grew up. It has always been a bittersweet thing to me that my children have grown. Heavier on the "sweet" than the "bitter," of course, but still...

Today I wish nothing but the most awesome of birthdays to the pretty little girl who made me a daddy and later went on to become a pretty grown-up girl. She is dynamic, hilarious, talented, and so incredibly full of life. I'm not sure I ever had the spark she does.

And today she's another year older. Happy birthday, Lissy. I still think of you when I read the paper sometimes (that's a true story).