On Friday morning I went to yoga, and afterward I came home and collapsed in bed for a while. I should have been helping with all of the morning craziness, but yoga had taken it out of me. I quickly regretted this moment of weakness, because in the extra time I spent not parenting, Clarissa learned to climb out of her crib and open her door.
This was a crisis of no small proportion. It meant no nap time and no bed time. Our usual nap and bed routine is normally very straightforward: I give her a bottle and deposit Clarissa in her crib. Heretofore she has been resigned to her fate, does not protests, and simply sucks herself to sleep.
No more. With her newfound skill, she realized she has power. And not only does she use this skill to exert it, but she couples that with loud, repetitive screams that basically perform the function of a Harry Potter world dementor. The screams kill all hope, joy, and desire for continued existence. At bedtime I spent an hour outside of her door lying on the floor in agony, then spent an hour comforting her in her room, then gave up and just took her down at 9:30pm to celebrate Suzanne’s birthday with everyone (they had all just come back from the girls’ final performance of Mary Poppins), then lay outside her door again until 11pm, at which point she finally decided to stop screaming and go to sleep. It was the worst.
Also, Abe left on a ski trip today. I am so thrilled he gets this chance, but the timing was so crazy and ironic.
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