Duck Boat Trauma

Non-refundable Duck Boat tickets seemed like a good idea a month ahead of time, but not during the fit Tai threw on the street corner when he decided he was terrified of any contraption that started out on land and then drove into the water. It started as little whimpers and the question, "Will you protect me?" as we neared the stairs leading up to the boat. I promised to protect him and hold him tight, but to no avail. Soon we were experiencing a full blown Freak Out with tears and yelling. We tried calming him, reassuring him, bribing him (with a bravery Milky Way). Nothing worked. Smart kid, he even tried to bargain through his tears. "Can Daddy take Quynh (sniff sniff) on the boat and Mama can (sniff sniff) take me to buy the Milky Bar (sniff)?"

After he calmed a bit, we asked the Duck Boat Captain several questions and received the "right" answers. But Tai decided it was still too scary, and was particularly horrified that there were no seat belts. Makes me wonder.....how on Earth are you supposed to teach your kid about safety and the importance of things like seat belts and NOT turn them into neurotic Scaredy Cats?


Incidentally, the conversation with the Duck Boat Captain went like this:

K: "Is it fast and scary or slow?"

Captain: "Painfully slow and boring."

K: "Is there a big bump and huge splash when it goes in the water?"

Captain: "No, it's slow and gentle."

K: "Is it safe?"

Captain: "Yes. See that sticker over there? We got an award for safety blah blah"

K: "See Tai? They got an award because it's soooo safe and so fun."

Captain: "I didn't say it was fun."


Now there's a man who loves his job.

Wait 'Till He Tells The Kids at School About This One.

Although Tai is a typical pre-schooler when it comes to avoiding all green food, we are fortunate that he's not terribly picky and is not easily freaked out. He likes to try new things as long as they are protein. And he has a love of seafood that includes scallops, shrimp, crab, and lobster. On our recent trip to Maine, Tai devoured nearly an entire order of mussels and picked all the big chunks of lobster out of Minh's lobster roll.

So when it was time for the last dinner of the trip and we found ourselves at a restaurant that offered a kids meal of a whole (small) lobster and fries, we decided to go for it. Not wanting to waste money, we checked with him first. He was very excited about the idea of having a whole lobster on his plate.

Now, Tai knows full well what a whole lobster looks like. We often visit them in the tank at the supermarket. And he knows that they are in the tank so people can buy them, take them home, and cook them. This does not bother him, thankfully.

So Minh and I were not prepared for Tai's expression of confusion mixed with just a bit of horror when his meal arrived. Sadly, we didn't get a picture of that first moment, but we did capture his exclamation that, "They didn't take the legs off!" At first I wondered why he was so confused, when we told him it would be a whole lobster. But then I remembered that he's seen whole cooked turkeys and they look nothing like live turkeys. Same deal with chickens and ducks, right?


After the initial shock, he was eager to learn from his daddy how to pull the legs off and suck the meat out, crack open the claws, and dig out the tail meat. He proudly wore the bib, used the tiny plastic fork, and asked lots of questions. "What do we do with the eyes?" "What about the head?"

In the end, he ate about 2/3 of his little lobster and enjoyed every bite. He did so well that we got him a dessert too. Three bites into it I asked how it was and he said, "Mama, it's so good, I can't even tell you!" It was a fantastic end to a fun but exhausting trip.

You're HOW Old??

I just had this conversation with someone in my office:

Her: I just can't get into The Wire. The first couple episodes were boring, and it feels kind of....old.

Me: It's not that old. It premiered in 2002.

Her: Yeah, when I was 12.

Nuk Free

Tai has slept the past THREE nights with no nuk and we’re so proud of him. After the three of us had a lovely night out together, Friday night came to a horrible close with the expected (but still heartbreaking) crying and yelling.

He's smart, I'll give him that. He'd yell anything he thought would get me to open his bedroom door. "I need a song!" "I want someone to rub my back!" "I need someone to put the covers on me!" Each time I caved and opened the door, he immediately changed his chant to "I need nukkie!**" and several times claimed he was going to go into Quynh's room and take them back from her.

So I held the door shut until he screamed himself hoarse a-la Sam Kinison playing the Trump Card, "I need to go pee pee!!!" Finally, I let him go use the potty. The screaming stopped but he was crying so hard he could barely breathe. And he now directed his anger toward his sister, who was sleeping mere feet from the bathroom, with a dozen nuks in her crib. “I don’t like Quynh anymore. I want to put her outside this house! I don’t want her in this family!”

I put him back in his room and (at his request) took off his PJs. Then I resumed my post, holding his door shut and feeling awful about it. He banged on the door, cried, and yelled requests for the nuk, as well as, "I don't want this pull-up on!" Finally, after about 10 more minutes of crying, there was silence. He had, presumably, fallen asleep on his floor.

At 6am the next morning he came out of his room pleasant-as-can-be and buck naked, and asked, "Mama, is it OK if I sleep naked?"

Saturday night Minh put Tai to bed and there were some weepy requests for the nuk. After an extended bedtime that included stories, deep breaths, and a song, Tai did not come out of his room after being tucked in. Sunday night he didn't even request he nuk. He seemed a little unsettled as I prepared to leave the room, but he didn't come out and went right to sleep. We seem to be through the worst of it.

Sadly, this seems to have been the end of napping, but I think the exhaustion has been helping him fall asleep at bedtime, so I'll take it.




** Incidentally, Minh wondered out loud if he ought to try screaming and crying the next time he wants nookie.

If You Can't Beat 'Em, Distract 'Em

Friday night is the big night. No more nuks for Tai. Ever. No backing down. It's marked on the calendar and everyone knows the plan -- Tai, his grandparents, his teachers, even Quynh.

We picked this weekend for a number of reasons, including the fact that we happened to have playdates and family visits to distract Tai from the withdrawal he will, no doubt, experience.

Additionally, we've actually scheduled a pre-trauma distraction. Friday night we have a sitter for Quynh and we're taking Tai out to dinner and a show. It's something he's been wanting to do anyway, so we figured we'd use it as a pre-reward. A celebration of his Big Boy-ness, if you will. If fire dancing, drums, and greasy Chinese food don't take your mind off your worries, then I don't know what will. This will also cause him to stay up past his usual bedtime, which we hope means exhaustion and the ability to fall asleep without the nuk.

Despite all this over-preparation, I'm sure there will be be tears. And probably bargaining. And rationalizing. And yelling. But hopefully after a few days it will fade and we'll move on peacefully. (Until we have to do this all over again with Quynh. I sure hope she likes hula dancing.).

The Countdown

Tai will be giving his nuks to his sister in FOUR DAYS.

A Post That's Not About My Kids

I'm about halfway through a book that's neither particularly engrossing nor painfully boring. I had no idea what it was about when I started it and the first section was actually pretty entertaining. It has had some funny moments and for a few pages I thought it might turn into a murder mystery. But now I'm starting to fear that this book might actually be Not Good.

So why do I continue to read it? Because I have to. I joined a book club and the first meeting is in 2 weeks. Now I'm stressed out that I won't finish it in time or that I'll finish it, but have nothing to say about it other than, "It was pretty good" or, "I didn't like it."

I've turned down book club invites before because of these two fears. I am a slow reader so I knew Book Club Deadlines would create stress, for me. And I always figured that at book club meetings you have to say something insightful to show that you really understood the Deeper Meaning of the text. Something that makes all the others in the club go, "Ahhhhhh." I know alot about book club meetings because I've seen The Cosby Show and Still Standing. In both cases, I believe the fear was that the husband would embarrass the wife in front of her book club. But the dudes always pull through in the end.

So why did I accept this invitation? Maybe because the club is being started by two of my good friends, whom I don't get to see very often. (And who I didn't even think liked each other that much, but now they're starting a book club together. Go figure.) Or maybe because I liked the idea of having a break from kiddo bedtime, getting out of the house once in a while, and drinking wine with some other women. (There will be wine, right? On TV there is always wine.)

So here I sit, ambivalent about my situation. Last night it was 9:30pm by the time I was done with all the parenting, dish-washing, lunch-packing, and laundry-folding. I grabbed my book and was heading toward my reading chair when I realized I didn't want to read. I wanted to flop down on the couch next to my husband and watch my new favorite show. So I did.

I have to go now, I should be reading.

Favorite Shirt -- The Next Episode

And Then There Were Eight

Last weekend we camped with our old college friends and long-time camping buddies, Jake & Dianna. Back in the day, when we were in our early twenties and childless the four of us would all share one tent, one stove, and one lantern. We'd spend half of our time taking long, strenuous hikes that led past waterfalls to amazing vistas and the other half either napping or playing cards. Ah, to relax for a weekend in the woods.

But this time there were not four of us, but eight. Since the last time we camped together, we've produced a total of four children. On this trip there were two stoves, three lanterns, two picnic tables, four cell phones, two GPSs, a house-sized tent and a pop-up camper. And no relaxation.

There was still hiking--I think we did a whole mile on the relatively flat "nature trail" before Tai fell apart. And, honestly, with the extra 25 lbs strapped to my back I was about done after that too. But we did manage to help Tai find his first geocache. He's been proudly telling everyone that we "found a treasure box!"

And there was still card-playing. Tai now knows how to play Go Fish. Come to think of it, there was still napping too. After a failed attempt to get any of the toddler/preschooler crowd to settle down for a nap, we took them to the beach while Minh and Quynh snoozed the afternoon away.

There were also several new activities we never used to do while camping, such as: sand-castle-building, tag-playing, diaper changing, and attending the Bird Show put on by the Department of Recreation and Conservation. Sadly, they seem to have used the words "bird" and "show" very loosely. We spent a full hour listening to a Bird Fanatic describe in excruciating detail the different types of beaks, feet, and wings of about 25 different types of birds. With each description he wore a different hand-made bird mask. There were no actual birds at said Bird Show. Just paper mache.

Quynh was not too sure about the whole camping thing when we first arrived. She kept tripping on the uneven ground and complaining when we were too busy setting up the tent to play with her. Then we had the nerve to tell her not to eat any rocks or pine cones. But she soon found her Campground Legs and started having good time (and sneaking Rock Snacks when no one was looking). For her, the highlight of the trip seemed to be the simple act of strolling along the (paved) campground roads and waving and calling to all the other children we passed. Unlike her brother ("I'm feeling shy") she walked right into other people's sites and made new friends.

For Tai, the highlight might have been seeing a real live ice cream truck for the first time. On our walk over to the Bird Show, we heard the unmistakable tinkling of Ice Cream Truck Music. Tai's eyes lit up and he asked, "Can we get something from the ice cream truck?" Of course we indulged him. Jake asked Tai what he wanted off the truck and Tai replied with his standard order of "chocolate ice cream". He was then only a little confused to be told that the ice cream truck does not sell actual ice cream, only sugary-frozen-popsicle-thingys. He was easily persuaded to try a SpiderMan Pop.

The trip was a success. An exhausting success. Despite all the work and the long-gone days of playing scrabble all afternoon, I am looking forward to another trip in August.

Hand Me Downs

Anyone who has seen a picture of Tai in the past 18 months or so is probably familiar with his Favorite Shirt. When he first got it, it was much to big for him, but he wore it sans pants and called it his Fancy Dress. Now it's getting a tad small and, as Tai will tell you, it hurts his ears when we pull it over his head. He's worn it as frequently as possible, year-round, and it's been through the wash so many times the colors are now faded. We've been warning him that it's getting small and he won't be able to go on wearing it forever.

In addition to the Favorite Shirt, Tai is also partial to some of his pajamas. A kid after my own heart, he really enjoys staying in his PJs all day on the weekends and we both have a hard time resisting PJs on sale at Target or Costco. As a result, he's received four new pairs of PJs in the past month or so (sizes 3 and 4T). His PJ drawer was beginning to overflow.

So the other day, when Tai was busy playing downstairs, I went through his drawer and pulled out all the size 2T PJs and decided they now belong to Quynh. (Interestingly enough, they went right into her drawer.....no need to wait until she grows into them. She's already there.)

It occurred to me that I should inform Tai of what I had done before he saw her wearing some of her "new" PJs. I was worried that might cause a melt down along the lines of "hey, those are MY dinosaur pajamas!!" So the other morning at breakfast I showed him a big pile of pajamas and explained that they were getting too small for him so I decided to give them to Quynh.

"All of those?" he asked.

"Yes" I replied and held up each pair so he could see exactly which PJs were being handed down.

"OK. I don't mind that," he informed me.

I started to walk away from the breakfast table, to deposit the PJs in Quynh's room, and he called out, "Oh! Mama! Don't forget to also give Quynhhy my Favorite Shirt because it's getting too small. It hurts my ears."

Love that boy of mine. So, those of you who check out the picasa albums of my kids will soon be spying a whole new generation of Favorite Shirt photos, featuring Quynh. Lucky you.

Talking Dinos

On our recent tour of upstate New York, we happened upon the Petrified Creatures Museum of Natural History. It's just a tad different from the other Museum of Natural History we visited in Manhattan a few months back.

In fact, I'd say "museum" is really being generous. It's essentially someone's house. That someone also happens to be a licensed Real Estate Agent -- in case you want to kill two birds with one stone.

The first room you enter is the "gift shop" and it smells like Old People. It has a dark, dingy appearance that makes you feel like you must be the first patron in quite some time and that the gifts for sale have been sitting there a very very long time.

After you fork over $9 per adult, the woman (Stella, I assume?) lets you into her Backyard Museum. This essentially consists of three major areas:

(1) displays of actual Petrified Creatures under wooden shelters. The displays are narrated by a very loud recording that you activate by ringing a doorbell. The "creatures" included trilobites, a horseshoe crab shell, petrified wood, and fern imprints on rock. Fossils indeed, but still not very exciting.

(2) large (though not actual size and not to scale with regard to each other) plaster dinosaurs painted in array of colors (hot pink, turquoise, bright yellow, etc). Each dino had a mailbox painted to match and inside the box was.....a doorbell! When you press the doorbell the dino "talks" to you. Tai didn't notice, but 4 of the 5 dinos had Stella's voice. What he did notice was that the T-rex (pictured below) threatened to eat him and the stegosaurus said that she was not very smart. Poor thing has low self-esteem.

(3) An area in which you could dig for real fossils. Stella even said that if we'd forgotten our digging tools (which we had, shucks!) we could borrow some of hers. We skipped this part in favor of heading back to the car and continuing our journey west.

Oh, and at the very end of the museum path she had a display about minerals that included rectangular slabs of marble, clearly purchased at Home Depot, and a large brown rock with a sign indicating that it was a meteorite. Tai and I thought it just looked like a rock. Makes me wonder if we could open a Meteorite Museum in our backyard....

I have to give her credit actually. She obviously found some cool stuff in her backyard and turned it into a source of income. Hell, I think it was worth the money just for the Unusual Experience and Blog Fodder.

Cow Parade

This past weekend we trekked up to Brattleboro, Vermont for the Strolling of the Heifers. The parade starts at 10am sharp and we were warned to get there very early to find parking and a good viewing spot. Taking this warning very seriously, we found ourselves in downtown Brattleboro at 8:45am. (This is the part where you are impressed.) Some days I can't even get to the kids' daycare by 8:45am, but last Saturday we were all up, dressed, and loaded into the car by about 7:40am. Of course, three of us had not eaten breakfast yet.

Tai was thrilled to eat breakfast in the car for the first time ever. In fact, Friday night he had much difficulty falling asleep and one of the several times he emerged from his room he told me, "I'm so excited for the Strolling of the Heifers....and to eat breakfast in the car!"

We met up with two of Tai's friends from school and all enjoyed a fantastic parade together. The highlight, of course, was the many cows. But also of note were the baby cows (which Quynh took one look at and signed "dog!"), baby goats, a horse dressed up as a cow, marching bands, and tractors. It was the perfect parade for our animal-and-music-and-farm-equipment-loving boy.

Quynh also enjoyed herself, though it was very difficult to keep her from joining the parade. She desperately wanted to follow the cows down the street and couldn't understand how a fun event like a parade could possibly require so much sitting still.

Vermont is a fun little state and I think we saw some excellent examples of its quirkiness. For instance, there were the organic farm folks carrying signs in the shapes of giant vegetables emblazoned with messages about organic food, healthy eating, sustainable living, etc. And, logically, the huge purple eggplant sign that said, "end racism."

Then there was the Asian Cultural Society comprised of several white men and three mail order brides. 'Nuff said.

The group that tugged at my heartstrings was the middle school marching band. I don't know much about music but even I could tell that they were pretty bad. In an adorable way. And they were all out of step, including the drum line. I didn't even know it was possible to play the drums and be out of step.

After the parade we had an early lunch at a nearly empty restaurant where we let three toddlers and Quynh run wild on the deck. The young waitress looked a little bewildered at the chaos, but handled it fairly well. When a childless couple showed up, we tried (feebly) to reign our children in, but it was no use. That couple lasted about 2.5 minutes before decided they'd prefer to dine inside.

If only Tai had napped on the way home (or after arriving home) the day would have been a roaring success. But we did all have a fantastic time and it was worth the long drive early on a Saturday morning. We'll totally go back next year (we just may need to find a different restaurant).

Playing Hookie

Tomorrow my entire family is playing hookie from work and school to drive to scenic Lawrence, Massachusetts.

On purpose.

An old college friend of ours now owns a restaurant in Lawrence, so a bunch of us are all converging on his place for a little Lunch Reunion. I'm looking forward to seeing old friends, letting our kids goof off together, and eating some tasty sandwiches. Minh's hoping to being offered the chance to open a franchise in Western Mass. Because Northampton needs another restaurant.

Crying It Out

In preparation for Quynh's move to the toddler (!) room at the end of August, her teacher strongly suggested that we get her to sleep through the night now, so she'll be rested enough during the days to drop her morning nap. (A day in the life of a toddler is full of play dough, circle time, climbing, running, jumping, and there is no opportunity for morning nap.) So to prevent her from being the toddler who routinely falls asleep in her lunch, we decided we had better get her (and me!) some solid nighttime sleep.

But how? Quynh's teacher basically told us to shit or get off the pot with the whole co-sleeping thing. She suggested we either (1) put Quynh in her crib at night and leave here there and not go in at all when she cries or (2) buy bed rails and let her sleep with us all night long. Neither option really appealed to me, but I certainly want her in her own crib. So I decided to review the more gentle options for achieving that goal.

I went back to the books I had poured over when Tai was tiny. First I read about one extreme, written by the woman who thinks babies should never ever cry, and that progress toward better sleeping should be measured every 10 days to look for slow but steady progress. Ugh. The book included photos of her 5 kids all snuggling together on a giant bed in the "sleeping room." This woman might be a little nuts.

Then I read about the other extreme, where you plop your baby in the crib, close the door, and don't go back in until the morning, no matter what. The book actually says there is no limit on how long to let them cry and if they vomit from crying too hard just go in, clean it up, and then leave again.

Seriously? These are my two options?

Then I found the book that claims to be the "middle of the road" approach. Sounds perfect for me. I pride myself on my wishy-washy-middle-of-the-road-ness. I cracked open this book at 9:15pm on Saturday, but by 9:30 I was falling asleep and had not yet read the details of this sleep training method. I decided I'd read it on Sunday and we'd start our new plan (whatever it was to be) Sunday night.

I hit the pillow and feel deeply asleep. So deeply, in fact, that Minh told me the next day that I missed Quynh crying and fussing for an entire hour. He was still up watching TV in the living room and took my staying in the bedroom to mean that I'd decided we were going to let her cry it out. But I was really just too tired to wake. Yay for parent-to-parent communication.

She woke 3 more times that night, which I heard. At 2:30, 3:30, and 5:30am she woke and cried for 5 minutes each time. Then went back to sleep. Sweet.

Sunday I realized that we had accidentally started a cry-it-out program. Not what I intended, but I figured that we'd better stick with what we started. So last night we did it again. Not sure if we slept through any crying early in the night, but she did wake at 2:30 and cried for 5 minutes. Then at 4:30 she screamed for 10 minutes and I *almost* went to her. But then she found a nuk (she has about 6 of them in her crib) and settled back down. At 6am she squawked and I ran in to her, scooped her up and nursed her in the glider for about 15 solid minutes. All the while she was staring up at me with those huge dark eyes as if to say, "Where were you last night?"

The books, and Quynh's teacher, claim that this method works fast -- in a few days -- so I'm really hoping that tonight is the last rough night where I have to lay in bed, listen to her scream, and watch her on the video monitor to make sure she's OK. I'm excited at the prospect of "fixing" her sleeping habits, but I do worry about what she thinks when she's crying so hard and no one comes to comfort her. I find that part very sad.

Wish us luck tonight.

First Purchase

Some folks say that a mis-behaving toddler is a bored, un-challenged toddler. So, in a recent attempt to make our lives a little smoother, we created a "chore chart" for Tai. The chores themselves are very simple (he is only 3, after all) and include things like: feed the pets, clear the dishes from the table after breakfast, brush teeth, use the potty, and get dressed. Those last three in particular must be done with cooperation in order to get the check-mark on the chore chart. If we have a bare-assed kid running around the house singing, "you can't catch me" while I chase him down with underwear and jeans clenched in my fist, there will be no check-mark next to "get dressed".

So, what do the check-marks mean? For a 3-year-old, pride in a job well done does not seem to be incentive enough for good behavior. So, we thought about some sort of sticker chart or tally of check marks that you can turn in for a special treat. But he's kinda over the whole sticker thing. And the kid already gets a ton of special treats (edible, watchable, you name it). So we decided on cold hard cash. Five cents for each chore.

Tai already had two piggy banks, given to him as Christmas gifts. So now he can finally use them. We've designated one as "savings" and one as "checking" (spending money). We've had this system in place for about 2 weeks and today he emptied his checking account into a plastic sandwich baggie (maybe he needs a change purse?) and made his very first purchases.

Despite his claims that he was going to buy "a whole box full of toys" he ended up spending his money at the Amherst Farmer's Market--where boxes of toys are scarce, at best. After turning his nose up at fresh baked cookies and pastries, he considered buying a tomato seedling (before he remembered that Daddy already had that covered). So he purchased a $2.50 organic blueberry smoothie (which he shared with his sister, without hesitation) and tossed two fist-fulls of change into the tip jar of a little 2-person-folk-band. I wholeheartedly approve of his decisions.

In the end, he came home with about $2.00 of unspent money and no box of toys, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Tackling the Next Big Topic

Death: Already covered. Next: Religion.

Q: What do you get when you cross and Atheist with a Buddhist?

A: A very confused toddler.

Last weekend Tai went to the carnival with a good friend of his. On the way to the carnival they were excitedly discussing the rides that they would go on and ended up having a conversation that went like this:

N: When we go on the ferris wheel, we'll go way up high in the trees. We can look for birds and bird nests. God lives in the trees.

T: Huh??

N: God lives in the trees because He can hear everything. Did you know that, Tai?

T: No, I haven't seen that movie.

Q Has a Mind of Her Own....

....and she's learning how to express herself. In addition to clapping, waving, and playing peek-a-boo, Quynh can now sign "more," "dog," and "book."

Quynh knows what she likes and has learned how to sign "more." She does this primarily for cheese and tickles.

Each morning she wakes (in our bed, see previous post) and leans over me to look at the floor next to the bed. Then she says "ga." I call Buttons over and Quynh points and exclaims "Ga!" (As if to say, "Yes, the dog! That's what I was asking about. Thank you, Mama.") Then today I was holding her as I walked by Buttons and she pointed and said "Ga!" she then slapped her thigh repeatedly (the sign for dog).

Finally, just now, I was trying to get her to settle down for nap. She had her nuk and her Skipt and the noise machine was on. I was rocking her in the glider, and shhhh-ing her. But she was resistant to the whole nap-time idea. She struggled to sit up in my lap, pointed at the pile of board books on the night stand and then signed "book." Adorable? Yes. Genius? Of course. Cute enough to make me give in and let her skip nap? No Way in Hell. I wish I knew the sign for "Nice try, Miss."

My Son, the Carnivore.

We’ve let Tai watch a few episodes of Life (which includes a substantial amount of death) and he’s now fascinated with animals eating other animals. He doesn’t care much for herbivores, except for the role they play as prey. He often wants to pretend to be lions or polar bears or komodo dragons and go hunting for meals. Poor Quynh usually gets cast in the role of unsuspecting ibex.

During breakfast one recent morning, Tai suddenly began explaining to me that “When polar bears eat fish they eat the whole thing – with eyes and fins and everything. But when we eat fish we take the eyes and other stuff off so all that’s left is..........fish.” Well said, I think.

Then yesterday when I picked him up from school, his teacher shared this gem with me. At Circle Time they were going to sing a song about spaghetti and a teacher asked, “What can we put in our spaghetti?” Tai said “duck!” One of the other kids cracked up laughing and exclaimed, “You don’t eat ducks! Ducks fly!” Tai immediately corrected the other child by explaining very matter-of-factly that you can eat duck, but first you have to take off the eyes and the feathers, and then cook it. My son, the gourmet chef.

My Daughter is Broken

Each night I nurse Quynh and rock her and put her in her crib around 7-7:30pm.

Then she wakes around 8 or 9pm (not long after we've rid ourselves of Tai). I rock her, or nurse her, or sing to her, and she falls asleep in my arms. Then I place her back in her crib. Often, just as she hits the mattress, she snaps awake and starts screaming. So I repeat the process until it "sticks."

It usually only sticks for an hour or so. By that time (1opm-ish?) I'm just about ready for bed, so my heart is no longer really in the fight to get her to stay in the crib. I usually try once more--nursing, rocking, etc., and place her in the crib. If she stays asleep, I hurry off to bed to get some rest before she wakes again. If she starts yelling, I give up and bring her to bed with me (where, inevitably, she falls immediately into a very sound sleep, without even nursing first). The girl just wants to be snuggled.

I can't really complain, because I'm pretty sure I "broke" her.

When Tai was a baby I read all the books and worried endlessly about his sleeping. I kicked him out of our bed at 5 months of age and worked tirelessly to make sure he could put himself to sleep (and back to sleep) in his own crib. There was a 2-week period when he'd wake at night and I committed to not taking him out of the crib, so I'd end up sleeping on the floor of his room, holding his hand through the crib slats so that he'd know I was there and be able to fall back asleep.

With Quynh I either don't care as much or just don't have it in me. When Baby Number Two starts crying at 9pm, not only am I more tired than I was during Tai's babyhood, but I also have to worry that she'll wake her brother if I let her "cry it out." But that's mostly an excuse. I'm just not able to let my babies cry. Never have been (hence the sleeping on Tai's floor for 2 weeks).

Everything started out the same. I kicked Quynh out of the bed at 5 months, putting her to sleep in her crib. But then I was all too happy to bring her into the bed when she woke to nurse. That first wake-up used to be at 2am. Then it was at midnight. Then at 10pm. And, now, it's at 8pm. There go my evenings.

The trouble all seems to have started when cold/flu season and teething hit at the same moment. When her wake-ups started coming earlier and more frequently I'd make endless excuses for her:

"She's sick this week and needs extra snuggles."

"She's all stuffy and needs to sleep in our bed, propped up on pillows."

"She's teething."

"She's teething again.

"She's still teething." (Where are the damn teeth?)

So now she's broken and I can't decide what to do. Part of me wants to "fix" her and part of me is just fine with the way things are. I mean, I get to *snuggle* a soft, warm baby all night long and I don't have to get out of bed when she wants to nurse! But I also no longer have the evening to myself and I fear getting up and taking a shower in the morning because I worry she'll wake and crawl right off my side of the bed (Minh is a very sound sleeper -- I have emerged from the shower to find him snoring and Quynh *standing* in the bed pawing at the paintings hanging above the headboard!)

I think we all know I probably won't do anything. I don't have it in me to let her cry, or sleep on her floor. And I'm not ready to run out and buy bed rails and declare us the official Family Bed type of folks. I'm going to keep blaming the teeth and hope it all works out. (And you can all laugh at me when I post again about the 3-year-old girl who won't sleep in her own bed.)

Squashed Imagination?

So by now anyone who reads this knows that I have a relatively strict policy of Not Lying to My Kids. (The whole Santa Claus thing excepted.) But lately I'm wondering if I'm too literal in some of my answers to Tai's questions and if that might be squashing his imagination.

I started thinking this when we were at the mall last week and there was a (person dressed as the) Easter Bunny upon which kids could sit and have their picture taken. We walked over to watch and asked Tai if he wanted a turn. He shook his head and asked me, "Is it real?" I wasn't entirely sure what he meant. Is that a real rabbit? Is the Easter Bunny a real entity? (Not being religious, we don't talk much about Easter and had not decided whether to play up the Easter Bunny thing or not.) So I said, hesitantly, "I think it's a person, dressed up like .....er....The Easter Bunny"

Now don't get me wrong. Tai has a pretty great imagination. He makes up stories and all manner of pretend play. And when he tells me Emmit is sick it's not like I say, "That's impossible, Emmit is a stuffed animal." I'm not that literal. But what I don't tend to do is talk about fanciful things like fairies, ghosts, monsters, leprechauns, or the Easter Bunny.

So, Easter. We will be coloring eggs. I love a good Art Project. And we will be (coincidentally) having brunch with friends that day. Easter Basket full of candy? Easter egg hunt? Discussion of The Easter Bunny? Undecided. And time is running out.