The Explorer Turns One
👨👧 Dad Log
It hit me today—my daughter is no longer a baby. She’s a full-blown little human now. One year in, and she’s already showing flashes of who she’ll become.
Independent. Calm. Focused.
She doesn’t need to be constantly held. She’ll climb over my legs, stand up on her own, crawl across the mat like it’s a training ground. She’s content just exploring the world I made safe for her. No chaos. No clinginess. Just presence. Her own and mine.
She knows I’m there. That’s enough.
Personality: Stoic Baby Energy
She’s not needy.
She’s not loud.
She only cries when something actually matters—like hunger.
She spends real time with her toys. Stacking rings, touch and feel books, rubber Roku remote. Simple tools. She’s focused. Intentional. The kind of calm that makes you question why most adults are so frantic.
She’ll sit in the tub, playing with ice cubes like they’re the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen. Doesn’t need noise or hype—just space to notice things. That’s her superpower.
Milestones & Moves
Crawling and climbing: using my leg like a jungle gym. Already got that “I got this” swagger.
Feeding herself: banana slices, blueberries, shredded chicken, carne asada and el pastor bits from my tacos at the market. Rejects the spoon and grabs with purpose.
Speech emerging: she babbles a lot—mostly “ba-ba,” sometimes “da-da”—but the way she locks eyes when I talk? She gets it.
Emotional regulation: she can nap in the car, vibe on her playmat, or ride in silence. Doesn’t spiral. Doesn’t cling. Just self-soothes like a little monk.
Food Preferences
She’s a chicken girl—especially when it’s shredded from wings.
Ground beef? Meh.
Bananas? Yes.
Water? She’s into it—sippy cup style. Open cup is still a work in progress.
Lately, I’ve been cooking with her in mind. My chicken-and-rice Instant Pot bowls get a toddler remix. Mash a little up, serve it warm, let her go to work. It’s a ritual now. I eat, she eats. We coexist.
Play Style
She thrives in calm environments. No overstimulation. No overstated praise. Just soft music, bathtub toys, and the occasional ice cube or plastic measuring spoon.
She plays independently while I supervise, quietly. She knows I’m close—but I’m not hovering.
I let her lead. I guide from the edge. That’s how trust is built.
My Role
I’m the anchor.
The quiet observer.
The wall she climbs and the ground she walks on.
Even in the middle of divorce and transition, she’s thriving. Because I show up with consistency and calm.
She doesn’t need me holding her 24/7.
She just needs to know:
“Dad’s here. I can explore the world.”
And that’s exactly what she does.
Like this?
The Zaddy Codex is where the real blueprint lives.
Tactical essays for sovereign men rebuilding in the collapse.
🔒 Join the paid tier to get access.