August means hot weather, the dog days, and in my case this year, the God days (I just directed a play with that name), but August now means my daughterıs birthday month. On August 11, 2008 a little before 9 p.m., Donna Rose came into the world, and sheıs been on the scene for two years now.

Iıve been proudly telling people my daughter just turned two, and I usually get the typical response: They grow up so fast. After 700-plus days of being a daddy, I can still say she is not growing up so fast. I know itıs a little too soon to make any real judgments, but I still maintain kids grow up so fast only if you donıt pay attention to them or have a problem with growth.

I will admit I liked the second year much better than the first. No more breast-feeding (not an easy task for mother or baby), the baby learned to stand & walk & run, I can speak English with my child and she sort of understands, and of course, all those expressions, emotions and affection that come in the second year of life.

Donna Rose had her ŒNo!ı phase. We were happy that she knew how to say something, but saying No to everything was kind of negative. It was nice when she began speaking a twenty-word vocabulary. She has learned about two-thirds of the alphabet, and Iıve noticed that babies dislike the least used letters. J, Q, and the last five. We could have narrowed our symbols down to twenty without much difference, but Iım not in charge of such changes.

My daughter is starting to show tendencies toward certain talents. She always likes to dance to a good beat, but lately, she has taken to drumming. Not just whacking a spatula on a pot, but she will take two plastic straws and ratta-tat-tat on the arm rests of the sofa. She also takes our big colander out and smacks wooden spoons on it. She keeps pretty good time too. Fortunately, I know more percussionists than any mortal man should, so that will be an easy talent to nurture if she continues her interest. Plus, female drummers are pretty cool. We shall see...

In the last month, there have been other changes of the fearful variety. She is scared of loud sounds. Airplanes, jets, and garbage trucks to be specific. Every Wednesday morning, Donna Rose wakes up crying. Those garbage trucks roll through the neighborhood, and the tears start going. If she actually sees the garbage truck, it doesnıt scare her, but those sounds make her think of something awful.

The terrible twos have also begun for her, but I still maintain the outbursts of today pale in comparison to the first four months of living in general for babies. She will throw a fit, writhe about if you try to pick her up, and scream herself in to a frenzy. All because she doesnıt want daddy to change her diaper at that moment. Relax, baby.

Still, there are much more rewards in Year Two of having a daughter. While my little independent creature is not heavy with affection, she has been known to hop up on the couch and snuggle with her father. A reward never achieved in the first year. She is also learning how Dad operates. What she can get away with, what is not acceptable, and what the consequences are. Sheıll still push her limits and my buttons, but itıs getting a little easier every day.

Of course, while I explain how the first two years have been for my daughter, the real credit goes to her Mama. Maria has the blessing and curse of being a stay-at-home mother. She has raised a healthy and relatively happy young girl so far. The extreme amount of time together of mother and daughter can create a serious level of stress, but we agree that we wouldnıt want it any other way. Every family must make the choice of whether to have both parents work and pay for someone to take care of the child, or raise the child themselves and have less money. We chose the latter. I wonıt even go into single parents other than to say itıs one of the roughest jobs I can fathom.

Donna Rose turned 2 on Wednesday, and weıre having a pizza party for her this afternoon. It has been a wild two years, but I must admit that I like where itıs going. Give me a couple more years with this kid, and I just might know what Iım doing as a father. Maybe.

Chris Jungle is still not ready for any more kids.