Fantasy Fall: Annabelle Grace and Jimmy Graham

Both things started in the shower. For whatever reason, that happens to be the place where I come up with some of my best ideas. One day, bam, it popped into my head: We should name our daughter Annabelle Grace. Another day, bam, it came to me: I should take Jimmy Graham with one of my first three picks in the fantasy football draft.

These two things -- naming a daughter and drafting a fantasy football player -- may seem dissimilar. What does a three-month-old girl have to do with statistic-hungry junkies staring at professional football games every Sunday? At first glance, not much. But digging deeper, these two things eerily blended together to help me cross two things off my life bucket list this fall: Become a dad and win a fantasy football championship.

Let's start at the beginning. No, not in the shower, pervert. At the draft:

August 19: I'm always nervous at fantasy football drafts. When else is two hours so important to the ensuing four months of your life? If you draft a bad team, you're going to be on the losing end of games and trash talk until December. If you draft a good team, the sky is bluer, the sun is brighter, and the birds are chirpier. This year, though, I was more nervous than ever because Annabelle was due any second. She was officially due on the 23rd, but I clutched my phone during every pick of the draft waiting for Bridget to call and say, "It's go time." But the call never came and I stuck with my plan of drafting Jimmy Graham in the third round, a move that was maligned by my fellow draftees.

Week 1: With my arms filled with the best good luck charm in the world (a four-day-old baby), I won my first game of the season, 101.1 to 88.2. Jimmy Graham caught a touchdown pass. I had a good feeling.

Weeks 2 - 6: For some reason, I was positive Annabelle would be colicky. I'm not sure why, really. I just had this awful suspicion that she was going to be one of those babies that cried 10-12 hours a day and made bleary-eyed parents question everything in their lives. But colic never came. In fact, Annabelle started sleeping 5-6 hours a night by the time she was a few weeks old. She was happy and healthy. And in fantasy world, I was 4-2 and looking strong in the league. Jimmy Graham already had six touchdowns and was, by far, the best tight end in football.

Week 7: I was realizing that even with an "easy" baby (I hate that phrase), parenting was really hard. The days of coming home and relaxing mindlessly in front of the TV were gone. And then, out of nowhere, like the clouds parting after a rainy month, Annabelle smiled. That same week, inexplicably, someone offered me the most lopsided trade of the fantasy season: I gave up Marshawn Lynch to get Calvin Johnson and Eddie Lacy. Suddenly, my team, Texas Forever, was stacked.

Weeks 8 - 11: Annabelle was smiling, laughing, and generally being the cutest thing ever. Meanwhile, Jimmy Graham caught his 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th touchdown passes of the season. I won four straight games and clinched the first seed in the playoffs.

Weeks 12 - 13: Going into Week 12, I was 9-2 and, seemingly, untouchable. But then I lost a game. Then another. And to make matters worse, Annabelle decided to start waking up at 1 AM, 3 AM, and 5 AM. Ugh.

December 22, Championship Sunday: After squeaking into the title game (despite a paltry 2.5 points from Jimmy Graham), I was nervous this past Sunday. My team was reeling and I was the underdog against a team that included Peyton Manning and Jamaal Charles, the two best players in fantasy football this season. When things started poorly -- Charles had a 30-yard touchdown run in the first quarter and Manning threw for 296 yards in the first half -- I got that sinking feeling: I was going to fall short again. But then, with Annabelle asleep in my arms and my Dillon Panthers T-shirt on, things started to turn around. One of my receivers, A.J. Green, scored a touchdown. Then he scored another one. And then, toward the end of the fourth quarter, Jimmy Graham caught a touchdown, his 15th of the season, and the tide turned for good. I pumped my fist in joy, waking up Annabelle in the process. Sorry, honey,  Daddy's just really excited. The 4 PM games started and everything clicked. A long run here, a touchdown there, and Texas Forever was on its way. By the time I went to bed Sunday night, I knew that trophy at the top of the page (and a nice $300 Christmas bonus) was mine.

Is it all a coincidence? Would I have won my first fantasy football title this fall if Annabelle was born last May or next February? Maybe. But I don't think so.

In the words of Coach Taylor, the greatest TV character of all-time: "Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose."

The 25 Ways Annabelle Has Changed Our Lives …

Annabelle has changed our lives in countless ways since she was born 109 days ago. I mean, how couldn’t she, right? We’re now responsible for another human being who relies on us for everything 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

But countless is a stupid word. If you think about it, everything can be counted. So, this morning, I did. In honor of the impending merry holiday, I counted 25 ways Annabelle has changed our lives since September 4. Here goes:

1. It’s much harder to have a bad day. Annabelle can turn negativity around in seconds with one of her adorable, toothless grins. 
2. It’s harder to watch TV and movies. Annabelle makes a lot of noise and is frankly not very polite when we’re trying to watch Breaking Bad. 
3. The exercise/baby soothing ball is the greatest invention ever. Calm baby, tighter abs, amazing. 
4. We’ve watched A LOT of streaming shows. You think you’re excited for new episodes of Sherlock and House of Cards? Shoot, I’ve watched Behind the Mask. It’s horrible! 
5. Free will is a thing of the past. Simply put, you can’t just grab a nap, go for a run, or take a shower when you feel like it. This is a difficult adjustment. 
6. We clean up human poop now. It’s pretty gross. 
7. We get peed on. Also gross.
8. It’s much harder to go for walks, especially in the winter. Strollers aren’t exactly easy to maneuver over bricks and cobblestones. 
9. People like us more now. We’ve hung out with family and friends more time in the last three months than we had in the past three years. (Whatever. We can see right through all of you.) 
10. We’re more careful with our money. (Duh!) 
11. We’re more aware of the challenges of living in a 725-square-foot apartment. I’m speculating here, but I think Oscar is mighty aware of it, too.  
12. We sing and dance a lot more. (If you know Bridget, you know she’s always loved putting people’s names into song lyrics. This has now reached epic proportions.) 
13. We have excuses for social events we don’t want to attend. (Oh, you’re cousin’s first birthday? Gee, yeah, we’d love to, but you know, Annabelle …) 
14. It takes much, much longer to leave the house for anything. 
15. We’ve realized we need a bigger car. 
16. Baths, which tend to be relaxing, are now stressful. (They are getting better, but it’s still no picnic.) 
17. I now read books about women leaders and feel inspired for my daughter.  
18. I don’t immediately change the channel when I see WNBA highlights. (I change it, of course, but it takes a few seconds longer now.) 
19. A good night of sleep means something completely different now. 
20. Bedtime on Saturday night is no different from bedtime on Tuesday night. 
21. Our iPhones are basically just glorified cameras now. 
22. This year’s “family vacation” was spent in Cambridge. I was going to buy a souvenir, but I realized I already owned everything. 
23. We talk about daycare more than you talk about food, beer, music, and sex. Combined. 
24. We’re happier people. I know there’s a lot of debate about having kids vs. not having kids. There are certainly pluses and minuses on each side. For us, though, good God she’s awesome. 
25. It’s going to be the best Christmas we’ve ever had.

Observational Selection Bias and Missing My Daughter

I heard a lot of questions this past week. As a staffer at my organization's biggest conference of the year, I spent six days in sunny Orlando answering queries about exhibit halls, bathroom locations, and dining options.

There was one question, though, that I heard more than any other: "Is it hard being away from your daughter?"

The answer was yes. Actually, no. The answer was YES!! I imagined it would be fairly difficult being away from Annabelle for the first time. This was, by far, my longest stretch without her so far. (Fortunately, other than her improved grasping skills (you can see her gripping/eating the blanket above), I didn't miss all that much.) But why did I miss her so much?

I've thought about that a lot over the past 24 hours. I came home, changed her, played with her, smiled at her, held her for a long time, and then things quickly returned to normal. I did the dishes, made dinner, fell asleep with my Kindle on my face, and now, as I sit here typing this, it's business as usual.

So why was it so damn hard for the past week? Why did it seem like seeing Annabelle (and Bridget) was the most important (and seemingly impossible) thing in the world?

The answer, I believe, is other people. And, more specifically, other babies. It seemed like they were around every corner and each one brought thoughts of Annabelle charging into my mind. I kept thinking, Where the hell did all these babies come from? Is there a pacifier convention? 

This morning, it all made sense: It was just observational selection bias at work.

Observational selection bias is when we suddenly start noticing things that we didn't before and wrongly assume the frequency has increased. Ever learn a new word and then hear that word in seemingly every conversation for the next week? Or buy a new car and then see ads for that car, like, all the time? That's observational selection bias.

Now that I have a daughter, I notice things I've never noticed before. Or, more correctly, I notice them in a different way. For example:

• Six months ago, when I saw a baby girl, I figured there was poop in her diaper and she was probably about to cry. Now, all babies seem to smile and laugh all the time. 
• Six months ago, when I heard a tragic story about a medical error and a young child, it was sad. Now, I feel like vomiting and try to pretend the tears are just dust in my eye. 
• Even little kids who I used to think were annoying because they couldn't sit still are now "curious," "exciting," and "adventurous."

There's no question that becoming a parent changes you. I guess it takes a trip away from your child to realize just how much ...

Including Oscar ...

“Poor Oscar.” I think I’ve heard that two-word phrase about 400 times in the last year. “Poor Oscar. What about Oscar? What will you do with Oscar? Is he going to be okay when the baby comes? Are you guys going to forget about him?” Of all the baby advice and questions we got in the past year — and, yeah, there was a lot — the demotion of our beloved Australian Shepherd was the most popular.

But as I walked around Fresh Pond with Oscar yesterday at 7:30 on a 19-degree morning, I realized something: It hasn't happened.

Oscar is still a huge part of the Briddon pack. Is Oscar our No. 1 priority? Well, no. I mean, we do have this little 12-week-old human living with us now. Despite being tiny, she takes up a lot of our time, energy, and attention. Plus, we wouldn’t be very good parents if we cuddled with Oscar and gave Belle a water dish and heartworm medication. And no, Oscar doesn’t get to sleep in our bed at night anymore. (Yes, Oscar slept in our bed. Feel free to judge us.)

But Oscar is still, unquestionably, forgive the pun, top dog. Here are five reasons why:

• He gets to spend more time with Bridget. Bridget has been home on maternity leave for almost three months and she has one more month to go. In between changings, naps, and tantrums, Oscar has received a fair amount of one-on-one time with his Mom.
• He gets more exercise. Oscar’s favorite activity, aside from eating, is chasing a tennis ball around Fresh Pond. He’d do it all day every day and twice on Sunday if we had the free time and the energy. Coincidentally, Belle loves walks around Fresh Pond, too. (I mean, she hasn’t said so. She loves walks and we assume she prefers a circle around a body of water.) That means more family time at our favorite Cambridge stomping ground. 
• He gets fed earlier. As I mentioned, Oscar really likes to eat. He’s one of those dogs who eats his meals in about 11 seconds. He often gags on it because he doesn’t breathe, which is both disgusting and fairly hilarious. And when Oscar wakes up in the morning, he wants nothing more than to eat immediately. In our pre-baby life, that meant about 7 AM. Nowadays, he eats when we wake up at 6 and sometimes 5. Lucky, right? 
• He gets more treats. There’s one sure-fire way to make Oscar happy: A treat. He knows that word better than “sit,” “come,” or “stay.” Hell, he probably knows I’m typing the word treat right now. T-r-e-a … see, he just asked for one. So, when Oscar misbehaves now, we take the easy way out and give him a treat. Licking Belle’s face? Here’s a treat. Humping things? Treat time! Barking incessantly at the TV? You guessed it. Let’s get a treat, buddy! 
• He gets more bro time. There are certain activities the Briddon girls – Bridget and Belle – like to engage in without the boys. Breastfeeding and bad TV are the top two. (Our daughter cried recently when I turned her away from an episode of The Blacklist.) So when Oscar and I are left out in the cold, we have more time to just chill. Mostly, we bump fists/paws and watch Syracuse basketball on the iPad. It’s pretty great. 

I realize, of course, that we’ve been at this (human) parenting thing for only three months. Lots will change. And Belle will continue to drain our time and energy. But she’ll grow to love Oscar. And when she starts eating solid food, Oscar will really, really love her. Until then, he’s doing just fine. In fact, I think he needs another treat …