May 21, 2003

Dad and baby take unsteady steps

By
Herald Editor

      Watching a 14-month-old take her first unsteady steps is a life affirming moment. A 33-year-old shuffling across the same living room - not inspirational or even cute.
      As Ella takes precarious steps into the world, daddy is right behind her. However, being a stand up father is not easy when you're down on your hands and knees. After a few days, I've come to realize no good can come from a bad back and a busy toddler.
      A part-time stay-at-home dad, I chase my daughter around the house three days a week; usually as a growling lion, much to her delight. This past Thursday, I let out a different yell. A sound not unlike an Olympic weightlifter working on a 1,200 pound hernia. Sadly, I was only picking up a 20 pound giggling girl.
      Since 1990, I've dealt with a back that on occasion gives me the slip disc or vexing vertebrae. Often that painful occasion is something strenuous like tying my shoes. Strangely, hoisting an engine block doesn't trigger the slightest twinge.
      The origin of these impromptu aches can be traced back to, of all things, overgrown grass. As the leader of a Michigan Department of Transportation Youth Corp, I was put in charge of a gas trimmer sporting a saw blade and handlebars. For three months, I swung 30 pounds of whirling weed wacker behind every guardrail lining M-55 and US 23. Even my 20-year-old spinal column compressed by August.
      Lame as it sounds, that is how I hurt my lumbar.
      If I were Hemingway, I'd have a better back story to tell. My vertebrae tale would involve running with the bulls, fighting a mighty marlin and drinking tequila. The sentences would also be a lot shorter. Like this. He said.
      While I initially flexed machismo muscle by refusing medical attention, brain won over perceived brawn. In other words, my wife drove me to the hospital. I swallowed my male pride and began ingesting 800 mg of Skelaxin every eight hours.
      While my ability to operate machinery might be impaired, no such words of warning about changing dirty diapers.
      Despite the pain pills, I am still shuffling around like Fred Sanford. I even find myself uttering "Elisabeth, I'm coming to join you!" when breakables are within reach. She knows this is an idle threat since her size three shoes can outpace me.
      As any parent knows, it takes cognitive skills to stay two steps ahead of a toddler. In my condition, however, getting around the house requires leaning on sofa legs or bracing against bar stools. A means to an end that would make Rube Goldberg scratch his head; most likely with a rubber chicken attached to a spinning bowling pin.
      So until my back is better, Ella and I will continue to take baby steps together. I just hope I can keep up.
      Grand Traverse Herald editor Garret Leiva can be reached at 933-1416 or e-mail gleiva@gtherald.com