Coda, or Koda, may be a term completely new to many of you. Coda stands for children of deaf adults, or Kids if spelt with a K.
Being a first-time mom is a scary thing. You are faced with this great responsibility of keeping a growing person alive for nine months in your body, and then you have to keep them alive when they come out of you as well. It can be a little daunting.
I first became a mom seven years ago when my older daughter was born. I also have a three-year-old daughter. I love watching my kids learn new things. I like watching my daughter sing and do gymnastics. I like how she helps her sister and does her hair for school. I like watching my little one start school and blossom there. I like watching her in dance class. Her singing and dancing are hysterical at home. I like how she coos over babies, even diaper commercials. I love my daughter's hugs and kisses. They are priceless. As are cuddles and when they say I love you. Cuddling with them in bed on the weekends is the best. I really like when their teachers tell me how well they are doing in school too. I love watching my little one vacuum and help with laundry. I like when my kids donate their toys before Christmas and their birthdays. I like shopping for little girl clothes and shoes too. When you have kids, holidays are a lot more fun. I especially like celebrating Christmas with my kids. Baking cookies and decorating our house are fun with them. The look on their faces Christmas morning opening their presents is priceless. I like taking my kids to the movies, we've seen some good ones together. Same with children's plays.
On my first day as a stay at home Dad, I felt like an impostor. I’d spent years watching my wife make bringing up little people look easy; from her boundless patience to her never-ending supply of rainy day games, I was sure I was a painter and decorator to her Picasso.
I have a two-year-old. In October, she will be three—and so on each year she will get older. Recently I took "stress leave" from work. I am currently doing a career change (I guess I can call it that), with not as much luck as I'd hoped. My daughter goes to daycare three days a week: Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. I get four whole days with her and with not working at the moment I have plenty of time to do a lot of things with her.
Let’s be real. Babies are small, they don’t do much... except roll around, poop, and eat. So how do we entertain them? Well... in my last eleven months of parenthood... I have come to one conclusion. You can’t entertain a baby unless you are entertaining yourself. From my perspective, when my son saw me enjoying something and laughing, he would laugh too. See, the thing with kids is that they like to mimic... a lot. They see you eating, obviously you're going to want to give them something otherwise they’ll be going at you trying to grab whatever cookie or snack you have in your hand. Everything revolves around YOU!
Arguing with a child is a losing battle. It is something that you likely shouldn't attempt if you want to keep your sanity. Because if you start an argument with a child it is likely that it will go on forever and you will not win.
Every mom has hopes and expectations when they first see the positive sign on their pregnancy test. The sheer excitement starts to overwhelm their being and the realism of having a baby begins to hit. We even begin to set up a way to tell our significant other that their lives are also going to change; getting up at two AM for that delicious double chocolate fudge sundae so that the baby gets the cravings it needs, or preparing French toast with melted cheese on top, sprinkled with salt and pepper and a slice of tomato. Delicious.
They say that there are three kinds of men when they find out that they are going to be a daddy. The first one is overwhelmed with joy the moment they find out, the second needs to see the ultrasound for reality to sink in that he will be a dad, and the third one gets his paternal instincts as soon as the baby is born in the delivery room. I was neither. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy and looking forward to fatherhood, but it did not hit me until way after he was born.
When I had my daughter, I never thought I would have so much love for her like this. I can't tell you how much I love my daughter. When I found out I was pregnant for the second time around, I was so excited and nervous because I already have a little boy who is a ball of energy. But when my husband and I found out that we were having a little girl, we were so happy. I always wanted a daughter ever since I was a little girl. I would dress up my dolls and rocked them to sleep. There is something about having a daughter that makes me smile and blush every day. My daughter, Isabella, can be shy, but she is a loud energetic little girl. When she gets excited, she yells and balls up her fists and shakes them. The things that she does to make me smile and laugh are priceless. When she gets older, I can see a her being a girly girl. She will be in cute little dresses and cute pink or red skirts. She will also have cute pigtails with little bows in her hair. Once she reaches that age where she needs me for things, I will be there for her when she needs me. If she wants to talk about boys, I'm always here. When the boy breaks her heart, I will be there every step of the way. Plus her father and brother, Joseph, they just might break the poor guy's neck. When she has her quinceañera, I will help her through the whole process and everything. And of course her father will, too. He will probably pay for most of the things for her quince. All she has to do give him those puppy eyes and beg her daddy for it and he will give it to her.