Sunday Confessional

Excuse me while my Canuckistani shows...

I've been using behavioral techniques from Poko on myself to help control my own anger issues.

Hug a monkey, hug him tight, hug him 'til you feel alright.

All better.

Halftone Humiliation - CSI Lechter edition

I was shooting the shit on Twitter last night while the tv way on in the background. The remote was on the couch across from me, and I just couldn't get enough elves, dwarves and hobbits to join me to go get it, so I just let whatever crap was on next play.

I didn't even know they're running a tv show based on Hannibal Lechter. It was just so CSI-ish, so it didn't really captivate my attention until there was a dinner scene.

That when I discovered the whole appeal of the show. During a dinner scene, I was left playing the game, "PORK OR PEOPLE?", and I was hooked. This is the only reason I would watch this show. I might even make a drinking game out of it somehow.

Pre-Toddler Wrestlemania

Changing Zuul these days goes like this:

Put together outfit while Zuul pulls all the clothes out of reachable drawers and laundry hamper, mixing up dirty with clean clothes.

Pick up Zuul and put her on change pad. Get pj's off while she tosses all the clean diapers around.

Put on clean diaper. Put on her undershirt, sing to get her to stop crying. She doesn't like having anything pulled over her face for even a second.

Put socks on. Reach for her top. Put her socks on. Pull top on, while singing. Reach for pants. Put socks on. Get pants on. Blink. Socks are missing and presumed digested. Give up on socks until we have to go out.

Put Zuul in crib or playpen and pick up all the clothes and diapers off the floor. Realize this will be how her bedroom will look like until she goes to university or Europe. Get her out of baby jail, wrangle pants back on. Accept my daughter may be a nudist.

First World Problems

I was taking a little down time to window shop on Etsy today. Because a girl can dream, I was reviewing all their Mother's Day jewelry suggestions. Wow, are there ever some beautiful and unique family birthstone rings. Excuse me while I wipe my drool.

Sadly, I will never have one. Not because money's tight or anything like that, but because my little family's stones would make one ugly ass ring. Zuul's an emerald, Subversive Dad is a pearl and I'm a peridot. Each on their own (well, maybe except mine), a lovely gem. But combined, no. Not even the most ironic hipster wasted on Pabst and downers could bring themselves to wear such a garish gemstone combination on any part of their body.

In fact, when Subversive Dad decided he wanted to propose to me, he thought it would be cute to get me a custom ring combined with both our gem stones. In theory, this was a very sweet thought, and had we been born on any other combination of months I would have been gushing and proud.

The jeweler politely redirected him with a touch of brutal honesty. If for any reason (aside the obvious ugliness factor) Subversive Dad decided he did not want the ring, the jeweler would never be able to sell it. Luckily, Subversive Dad regained his wits and remembered the ruby hint I dropped. If I ever meet the jeweler in my lifetime, I will kiss the man for not letting that horrendous mistake happen.

And now with an emerald amongst us, there still is not one attractive combination.

So, all sentimentality aside, I have to pass on that kind of family keepsake. Woe is me and a crappy May, June, August mismatch.

Well, Crap. That Ferber Guy Was Onto Something.

Baby sleep training achievement unlocked!

Gained normality points and spent them with my wee family downtown. The naps were compromised, but we were rewarded with zombie messiah day purchases of a Fraggle and a Dr. Suess book for Zuul, essential oil and day of the dead socks for me, and Mexican food (or as I like to call it, "comida") for all three of us.

So here are the boring details.

I gave it a full two weeks. Towards the end of week one, I started having doubts, so I tweaked a couple of things.

For one, like many normal children, she protests her naps, even though she is clearly tired. I can't blame her. It's daylight and there's living to be done! We'll sleep when we're dead, I always used to say. However, I need to get shit done and start feeling useful again. So, down she goes, twice a day. Often, she only cries for a few seconds then falls asleep. Other times, she plays, cries for a minute, then goes to sleep. I get anywhere from 45 minutes to two hours to myself twice a day to shower, do chores and have some me time.

At night, I changed the routine to nurse her before story time. The biggest reward is we get to look in each others eyes when I sing her a lullaby and watch her smile. The last three nights in a row she doesn't even let out a peep when I put her in her crib. She just rolls over and dozes off.

The others modification I made is with night nursing. We are down to one midnight feed, if she asks for it, five hours after her bedtime feed. So, if she fusses before 1:30ish in the morning, we do the 20-25-30 minute waits before we attend to her. The longest she's complained for has been 19 minutes before she just goes back to sleep. But if it's been more than 5 hours, fuck Ferber. I just get up and feed her then pluck her back in the crib. We're often not up for more than 10 minutes. She might start stirring at 4:30 a.m., but the last three mornings, I haven't heard a peep from her until around 6:30 a.m. or later. It's been glorious.

Oh! And Subversive Dad even put her to bed once and that didn't freak her out at all!

The sad modification I had to make, however, was kicking our dog out of the bedroom at night. While we were going through the first few cry it out days, Ghost would go to her. It's no surprise, I guess, that dogs don't understand or respect Ferber's methods. As cute as it was to see my beloved canine try and console our baby, it just overstimulated Zuul, making matters worse. On the plus side, I feel like a celebrity with a bodyguard out front my door each time I get up for a pee.

Aside from sleep, the other results are overwhelming. It may or may not be coincidental, but as soon as she started getting the right amount of sleep for her age, the milestones are being hit like rapid fire. She now chases Subversive Cat and her cousins around crawling, started clapping, cruising while holding onto things, waving hello and goodbye, high fiving, and mimicking. We're not saying any first words yet, but she understands phrases like "Where's mama, daddy, grandma, grandpa?", "Come to mama." and "Can I Have a kiss?".

So, I happily eat humble pie, Dr. Ferber. Now I'm looking forward to my first real date night. If only my laziness about pumping didn't supersede that.

I'm pretty sure I've used up all my wishes with my Diaper Genie since Zuul started solids.

Sleep Training Captain's Log: Chapter Two

Stardate -309798.22523465235

While the morning nap was a success, with only a minor stirring 38 minutes after Zuul went down (then fast asleep again for a whole hour), the afternoon nap attempt was a complete failure.

She didn't seem tired at 2, our regular p.m. nap time, so I nursed her at 2:30 p.m. and put Zuul in her crib, awake, at 2:45 p.m..  For a second, I thought I may have won, as she rolled over, but stayed laying down as I walked out the bedroom.  But, about 5 minutes later, the tears started.  So, after 3 minutes of crying, I went in, stayed two minutes and left.  There was no consoling her in those two minutes.

The tears continued off and on, but, after 5 minutes straight of bawling, I went in.  It stank as soon as I opened the door. 

I couldn't remember what the book said about diaper changes, but I couldn't imagine a full and stinky one could be very comfortable, so I changed her.  When I put her down again, she broke my heart into a million pieces.  She curled into a foetal position, her face and cry clearly had "Why are you doing this?  I don't understand." all over it. 

Fuck you, Ferber.  Fuck you.  What you ask is too much for a mother to bear.  It is completely unnatural to ask us to leave our babies in that state.  However, I did it.  I left her, confused and broken, at risk she'll hate me forever, growing up to become a shattered and insecure shell of a human being.

It's clear by now that she's onto me.  The crying continued, stubbornly, for 10 minutes, but there was fatigue in her cries.  I tiptoed quietly to her room, creeped open the door, and, sure enough, she was lying down, eyes closed, transitioning from crying to sobbing.  I don't say a peep, move a muscle, even breath.  She's going to fall asleep!

And that's when the dog decided to slam open the door, shoving me in the process and plop down into her bed.  The gig is up.  The noise made Zuul open her eyes, the sobs turned back into red faced howls and she pulled herself up to standing.

I picked her up and snuggled with her in the glider.  Mother consoling child and vice versa.

Onwards to a miserable evening and the true night time test at 8.