Of Beds and Broomsticks, vol. 2
Thanks to everyone who showed up for Annie's B-Day party. I know there are some readers who were guests, and I hope everyone had a great time. I know I did.
Annie racked up, as kids always do, with plenty of new toys and things to step on and injure parents almost immediately. But that is the nature of such things.
However, let us recall what my last blog post entailed. It included a reference to getting Annie a new bed. Well, one of her gifts was a complete set of Dora the Explorer bedsheets (bedsheet, matress sheet, pillowcase and blanket) to go on her new bed.
Last night we attempted to coax Annie on said bed. No dice, she wasn't having it, she was thoroughly pissed that we'd even suggest such an idea.
So after about twenty minutes of "No" followed by crying, we finally put her in the crib.
About 45 minutes later, Ericka puts Annie in her bed, hoping that this will somehow evoke change in our daughter like putting a rock in water and expecting it to swim.
From that simile alone you can deduce what happened next. Annie woke up, and she was pissed. And I don't mean upset, I mean like Atom-Bomb-Fucking-Pissed-Off. Her world had exploded. She had went to bed thinking one thing, she had woken up thinking another. And she was so upset, it took us, literally, almost 15 minutes to calm her down.
But let me clarify this even further. She wasn't just crying. She was thrashing. She was screaming, she wanted answers, dammit. "No bed, no bed" she would scream, over and over. And no matter how much we told her she didn't have to get back in the bed, no matter how much we held her, no matter how much we told her it was okay, she was going to be upset.
And finally, after some of the most terrible, agonizing minutes of my life, we found the answer: me and Ericka began to sing.
Blue Clues.
Yes, it's cheesy. Yes, you may be laughing, or even smiling (I'll give you smiling, it's cute, okay?). But dammit, it worked, and after singing just about every basic musical interlude from that show, Annie was finally calm enough to drink some milk (chocolate, shaken not stirred) and fifteen minutes later was in bed (read: crib), and off to la-la land.
We're not sure what happened. She woke up a few times later crying, but after a few minutes she went back to bed. To some, this is Heartless (tm), but too much pampering and babying can lead to a child who only cries longer in knowing that a parent will soon come running. I don't know if child experts agree with it, but it's worked so far.
Anyway, I go on about this because this was the most extraneous case of crying and disruption I've ever seen in Annie's little world. It was worrying to say the least, and I was relieved (yes, to say the least) when it was over.
Tip to self: when transitioning, it might not be the best idea to do such drastic operations on Day 1.
Annie racked up, as kids always do, with plenty of new toys and things to step on and injure parents almost immediately. But that is the nature of such things.
However, let us recall what my last blog post entailed. It included a reference to getting Annie a new bed. Well, one of her gifts was a complete set of Dora the Explorer bedsheets (bedsheet, matress sheet, pillowcase and blanket) to go on her new bed.
Last night we attempted to coax Annie on said bed. No dice, she wasn't having it, she was thoroughly pissed that we'd even suggest such an idea.
So after about twenty minutes of "No" followed by crying, we finally put her in the crib.
About 45 minutes later, Ericka puts Annie in her bed, hoping that this will somehow evoke change in our daughter like putting a rock in water and expecting it to swim.
From that simile alone you can deduce what happened next. Annie woke up, and she was pissed. And I don't mean upset, I mean like Atom-Bomb-Fucking-Pissed-Off. Her world had exploded. She had went to bed thinking one thing, she had woken up thinking another. And she was so upset, it took us, literally, almost 15 minutes to calm her down.
But let me clarify this even further. She wasn't just crying. She was thrashing. She was screaming, she wanted answers, dammit. "No bed, no bed" she would scream, over and over. And no matter how much we told her she didn't have to get back in the bed, no matter how much we held her, no matter how much we told her it was okay, she was going to be upset.
And finally, after some of the most terrible, agonizing minutes of my life, we found the answer: me and Ericka began to sing.
Blue Clues.
Yes, it's cheesy. Yes, you may be laughing, or even smiling (I'll give you smiling, it's cute, okay?). But dammit, it worked, and after singing just about every basic musical interlude from that show, Annie was finally calm enough to drink some milk (chocolate, shaken not stirred) and fifteen minutes later was in bed (read: crib), and off to la-la land.
We're not sure what happened. She woke up a few times later crying, but after a few minutes she went back to bed. To some, this is Heartless (tm), but too much pampering and babying can lead to a child who only cries longer in knowing that a parent will soon come running. I don't know if child experts agree with it, but it's worked so far.
Anyway, I go on about this because this was the most extraneous case of crying and disruption I've ever seen in Annie's little world. It was worrying to say the least, and I was relieved (yes, to say the least) when it was over.
Tip to self: when transitioning, it might not be the best idea to do such drastic operations on Day 1.
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