Big Ten

Ten years ago, 9-11 was just the number you called in an emergency.

Ten years ago, there had only been one Bush presidency.

Ten years ago, Mel Gibson was everyone's favorite, fun-loving, good-guy actor starring in "What Women Want."

And 10 years ago, I became a father.

Wow, what a difference a decade makes.

Allison Nicole came into this world on Aug. 6, shortly after 2 in the morning. She entered the world in a manner which would be consistent with how she would carry herself in life: late.

She was supposed to be here in July. My wife went to the hospital to be induced and 24 hours later, no baby. This was not how it was supposed to work, my wife said in a tone that cannot, by any objective standard, be considered nice. We were sent home to wait. And wait. And find excuses to go to the store, lest I be reminded whose fault this was and how it was hot and how AN INDUCTION MEANS A BABY COMES OUT OF YOU!!!

But eventually she made her debut, and we even have a picture that I would certainly consider a rarity: A baby 20 minutes old, her parents, and all six of her grandparents.

As for this birthday, there is some debate in our house if Aug. 6 is the actual start of double digits. If you asked her, she has been 10 for several months. I noticed this a while back when someone asked her age.

ALLIE: I'm 10.

ME: No, you're not.

ALLIE: I am, too, practically...

And then she did a little hair flip for emphasis.

Yes, my little girl is quickly steamrolling toward teenager. And, as someone who has three older sisters and got to witness all three of them as teens, I say to you: Help me.

Ha, I kid. Of course I look forward to my daughter's continuing maturation and growing independence. Why, I can practically feel the celebration bubbling inside of me just thinking about her dating and driving and going to college and, that does it, she gets locked in her room.

OK, deep breaths. Still a ways off from that. Let's just focus on being 10 for now. I know I have a lot to look forward to, as she still somewhat likes being around me. Granted, she has developed the "Dad, you're embarrassing me" look when we're in public. It's that look where she purses her lips, wrinkles her brow, tilts her head and, through clenched teeth, mouths "DAD!" Just one example of when I have seen the face: When I used the cute little nickname I have called her all of her life - Alliebear - on a school field trip.

I also have to be cautious about what I write in my columns. My daughter on occasion will read my column (hey, somebody has to), and I will see her slowly lower the paper. "Daaaaa-aaaaaad," she will say in a low tone. "Why did you write that?"

So I try to be sensitive to the concerns of a tween. I don't want to make her unnecessarily embarrassed. Granted, there is necessary embarrassment, which will include such gems as me singing to a Hannah Montana song when her friends are in the car or suggesting that I will show up to the next school dance to put on a break dancing demonstration. Always nice to be offering these suggestions and glance in the rearview mirror to see the head tilt, the teeth clench...

And while a decade is under the belt, I always look at my kids' birthdays not with longing for the past or lamenting the stages that are behind us. Rather, I see each birthday as another step to an important life stage. There are so many wonderful moments awaiting her in life, and I want to be there to share them, to congratulate her, to cheer her on, or just to have her know that I'm there. And, because this is life, there are bad times coming. I certainly hope they are few and far between, but I want to be there to console her, to cheer her up, to stand strong for her and beside her, and just to have her know that I'm there. She's only 10 now, but she's still my little girl. And she'll always be my Alliebear. Just don't tell her I told you...