Nuha turns 1

The party was grand, and held true to the LA tradition of big productions. We had a theme (an Enchanted Garden), delicious food (Persian catering), specialty ballons (in the shape of butterflies and dragonflies), grooving music (a desi-Western mix), a candy buffet (all in pink and green colors – the colors of the theme), a specialty cake (in the shape of a towering garden), and entertainment for the kids (Tinkerbell showed up to play games, tell stories, and paint faces).

However, our daughter wasn’t very interested in the hard work that her mother and father (mostly her mother – father isn’t so creative), put in to organize everything. Instead, she was happiest crawling around on all fours, alternating between picking up things to eat from the floor and trying to eat the flowers embossed on her dress. It was only after the party was over, when I had a brief moment to sit and observe my wired daughter - she had just had taken her first ever bite of cake frosting that evening and was zooming from end of the party room to another - that I marveled at how quickly time had flown by.

First, I had not screwed up. I had made it to Nuha’s first birthday without making major mistakes that would scar the girl for life. Much of the credit for that goes to my patient wife, who has made sure to gently but forcefully set me straight when I start acting irresponsibly around my daughter. As in when I let Nuha run around the house without a diaper on because she should be allowed to “air out” all body parts.

Second, seeing how quickly Nuha has progressed from a helpless baby that fit in the crook of my elbow to a toddler who knows how to aggressively demand what she wants – this makes me marvel at the mysteries of God and my intellect’s puny inability to comprehend the magnitude of what is occurring right before my eyes.

My evolution as a father continues, and so does my gratitude towards my own parents and the sacrifices they made to ensure the successes that I enjoy today. In this evolution I also gain increasing confidence in my abilities as a parent, and I wryly think back to pre-Nuha days, which I spent reading parenting books and browsing websites, all in the quest to try to be a good father. Although I stopped that practice a long time ago, Saeeda has not, and occasionally encourages me to read postings by hyperactive mothers who worry about the smallest development needs of their precocious babies. One mother posts on her blog about how important it is that we position babies facing us while they lie in their strollers - studies show they develop faster when they are able to observe a parent’s facial expressions. Or my favorite, this same mother encourages parents to point out landmarks in descriptive, adult language to our babies when we walk around with them: “Look baby, a big, black building. Look there – a red stop sign. A yellow bus moving by.” And so on. Meanwhile my drooly baby is more interested in her pacifier than anything. I imagine showing this "advice" to those of my parent's generation, and imagine how long it would take before they laugh me out of the room.

Nope, Nuha is turning one, and so far I think we’ve done a decent job. We’re watching her grow, and in her own way, she’s making us grow as well. I’m excited about the years ahead and the adventures they promise to bring. More immediately, I'm excited about tonight, when I get to take care of the baby while my wife runs errands. I sense another opportunity to let Nuha "air herself out” ...