Our daughter’s name is Ashlyn. We call her Ashes for short. Which brings to mind a familiar nursery rhyme; one that she loves. In fact, tonight, before putting her to bed, all four of us (well actually five, one vicariously through my pregnant wife) circled up in the living room, grabbed hands, spun around and sung that awful song about the bubonic plague, Ring Around the Rosy.
You see, some contend that this famous nursery rhyme has its roots in English history, dating back to the Great Plague of London in 1665 (bubonic plague). The symptoms of the plague included a rosy red rash in the shape of a ring on the skin (Ring around the rosy). Pockets and pouches were filled with sweet smelling herbs (or posies) which were carried due to the belief that the disease was transmitted by bad smells. The term “Ashes Ashes” refers to the cremation of the dead bodies! Not everyone buys into this, but regardless, it makes for a good story…and you should have seen my kids faces as I sat them down to explain the dark historical origins of the song we were dancing to.
OK, so I didn’t really share its origins. But as we were dancing and falling, dancing and falling, dancing and falling…the words and actions of “ashes, ashes” and “we all fall down” felt a bit odd to me, knowing its history. But despite its dark and morbid origins (who writes these kid’s songs anyway?), our family laughed and sang and fell and did it over, and over, and over again. We were loving life.
Here’s the clincher. As we were circling, our 85 pound dog, Cheddar, wormed his way into the middle and circled with us! When we fell, he would attack, lick, and paw us.
So I challenge all who read this to submit your original lyrics for, “Ring Around Cheddar”…you can post them as comments…
“Bye Dada!” are words I hear often from my 2yr-old daughter Ashlyn.Mostly they come enthusiastically each morning when I leave for work.But sometimes I just grab my cell phone, “Bye Dada!”Or pick up my shoes off the floor, “Bye Dada!”Or put my keys away, “Bye Dada!”Her typical enthusiasm in saying goodbye is what made one particular night all the more difficult.
A friend and I had planned on getting together for coffee in order to catch up on life and talk theology (if there was such a thing as a theologian-nerds, we’d fit right in).I had been home for about an hour and went into the bathroom to say goodbye to Ashlyn who was bathing.Jen was in there with her.I walked up to the bathtub, leaned over and planted a kiss on her wet head.“Bye Ashlyn!”I walked out of the bathroom and heard an “Oooohhhhh, how sad,” from Jen.Curious, I turned around and walked back into the bathroom.There sat Ashlyn, soaking wet in the tub with the biggest pouting lip and puffy eyes I’d ever seen.My heart broke.She was not happy to see her Dada go.I told her I had to go and that I loved her, half expecting her traditional “Bye Dada”……but not this time.
Pointing to the toilet next to the bathtub, she declared, “No Dada. Sit!”
“But Ashlyn, I have….”“No Dada. Sit!” she said even more adamantly, her face changing from pouting to sternness.
I told her I loved her and slowly left, leaving my heart there in the tub with her.
That night was one of those moments in parenthood that both brought me joy and broke my heart.Joy that I’m loved by such a precious child; heartbreak that my non-presence caused so much pain in one whom I love and who loves me.
Giggle, giggle……that is what we heard from our bathroom this morning as we were rushing to get out the house before church. Jennifer said, “Oh, great. Ashlyn is eating and probably feeding Cheddar.” I thought to myself, man, does Jen know our kids. But, me being me, I said with a smirk, “Why do you always assume the worst when you hear our kids laughing? But I’m sure you’re right…I’ll go check it out.” So I stepped out into the hall and into the kitchen, where I saw this:
Nothing new…see this all the time. But then I rounded the table where I saw our Golden Retriever, Cheddar, covered in yogurt. Through my smile, I asked Ashlyn what happened and she said simply, “Paint Cheshu……messy.” I had to show Jen this. I led Cheddar down the hall into the bathroom where, on perfect cue, he shook yogurt all over our bathroom. Kids, dogs, and a goofy dad…what a great combo.
About two months ago, our one year old daughter, Ashlyn, was carrying a mid-to-high fever. She is normally a very energetic, active little girl, but on that afternoon she was just laying in our arms, moaning. All of a sudden, her body started convulsing and her eyes rolled up into her head. She was having a seizure. Jen looked at me and for a moment we just froze. A split second later we decided that since we live only a few blocks from the hospital it would be faster for us to throw her in the van and drive her ourselves than to wait for 911. Decision made.
We all loaded up into our green van. Jennifer held her in the front seat as Ashlyn’s body just shook. We hit our first stop light and Jennifer yelled, “She’s not breathing. She is not breathing.” I looked over at my little girl. She was blue. Her eyes were rolled up, motionless. Her body stiff and still. And I was stuck at a light. It turned green. No breathing. Bluer. Caleb (our son) was being so brave, but he was very nervous. I was freakin’ inside, but trying to remain calm and present. My little girl, blue and not breathing.
The light before the hospital, she began breathing again. Her color returned. She had been blue for about a minute or two. Her eyes resurfaced and she began moaning again. But she was breathing!! She’s alive. Once in the hospital, they got her fever down (which had spiked at 105) and within about two hours, she stopped moaning and our girl, whom we knew and loved, returned to us.
I just stared at her. For the longest time, all I could do was watch her. Her smile. Her eyes. Her walk. Her hands. Every move she made and every part of her body became miraculous. I just stared. Grateful.
I will NEVER forget those few hours. Life and our kids are gifts that can vanish in a blink.
So Halloween, right. Tons of chocolate around the house. This, with Ashlyn’s sweet tooth, makes for a great combo. But not if she keeps cussing like she does. Whenever she asks for chocolate, she says, “Daddy, cha-s@#t, cha-s#@t daddy?” And we buckle over in laughter, just like good parents are supposed to (so I’m told).
Tonight was one of those moments in a father’s heart that transcends the normal. I am sitting on the couch. My son is playing Guitar Hero III rocking out to the tune of “My Name is Jonas“, by Weezer. So now that the peaceful stage is set, enter my 2 year old daughter. I have her blanky draped across my chest as she snuggles in tightly, laying there still and quiet. For almost ten minutes she layed there––motionless, except her breathing; at peace. Time stood still. My heart, transcendent. Life does not get any better than these still, quiet moments…Weezer or no Weezer.
