This post is from from my other blog here





It's fall, fuckfaces. You're either ready to reap this freaky-assed harvest or you're not. 

Colin Nissan
It's Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers

This post is from from my other blog here

As a four year old, Ada is working out what we do and who we are as a family, and how that is different or the same as other families. I come from a Jewish family, and Chris's family is what I call American-Christian, meaning that they celebrate Christmas more as a time to be with family, eat good food and give presents than as a holiday specifically honoring their god. Our nuclear family celebrates Hanukkah with a menorah, latkes and a dreidel. For Christmas, we go to Chris's parents' house. This works out well, as it allows us to celebrate with family and friends and yet I can avoid putting up a tree or lights at home. Somehow, putting up Christmas decorations at home feels like it would cross a line that apparently wasn't already obliterated by my eating pork, marrying outside my family's religion or failing to observe the myriad other rules and traditions of the Jewish faith.

Negotiating, and even explaining, our family's traditions and observances to Ada is already a bit complicated. The other night Chris and Ada were reading a book about Hanukkah. This got them talking about Hanukkah; celebrating with friends, eating latkes, etc. Chris talked about how we will do that here at home, and then later in the month we will go to Grandma and Bunka's for Christmas.

"And then Kwanzaa?" Ada asked.

Chris told Ada that different families celebrate different holidays. We celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas, some other families just celebrate Hanukkah, others celebrate Christmas, others Kwanzaa. Ada seemed satisfied with this explanation, which relieved Chris. He wondered how many holidays we might be required to celebrate if Ada got it in her head that we should do them all. Just in case, he suggested I might want to avoid bringing up the subject of Ramadan with Ada, lest we find ourselves fasting next August.

This post is from from my other blog here

For anyone who has suffered with a child who refuses to stay in bed at night or naps, this is going to sound crazy, but until two nights ago Ada had NEVER gotten out of bed on her own. She has let us know when she wants to get up, mostly by yelling out or kicking the wall, but until this week she never, ever got up out of bed without Chris or me coming in to her room first. Even when she went diaper-free last year and she was regularly wetting the bed in the morning, she would just lie there until we came to get here. I don't think this was so much a sign of her compliance as it has been a weird way for her to control us.

I mention this, of course, because two nights ago Ada came into our room in the middle of the night. She'd had a nightmare, and as we'd never considered what to do when our eldest appeared at our bedside, we brought her into bed with us. It wasn't perfect, but we all slept reasonably well for the next few hours. The next night, Ada woke up at 2:30 with a wet bed. Chris got up to help her, but then she refused to go back to bed. I woke up to them arguing, and by the time I collected myself enough to engage, Chris had brought her into our room saying that she could sleep with me and he would sleep in her bed. Not perfect, but Chris decided that: (a) he wasn't going to convince Ada to sleep in her bed; (b) he needed to do something so that he could get back to sleep; and (c) three in our bed was not a great solution two nights in a row.

In the morning Chris and I agreed that we needed to talk to Ada about the fact that she would not be sleeping with us again, and the talk needed to happen before bedtime (when such a chat would be clouded by fatigue on her part and a desire to get her to sleep on ours). We talked to Ada about the bed situation during dinner, without a lot of receptivity on her part. At bedtime we got through the bath and books, and then Ada declared she was not going to sleep. I declared that she would be. She said she could not, as when she went to bed there were monsters in her bed. After first trying the "there are no monsters in your bed" gambit, I decided to follow a different course. I asked her if she wanted some anti-monster spray that we could shpritz around her room. I held my breath, waiting for her to call bullshit on the idea of monster repellant. Amazingly, she agreed to get some spray.

We headed downstairs, where I grabbed some clove oil and searched briefly for our spray bottle. When I could not find the bottle, I grabbed a clean cloth diaper and we headed back upstairs. I put some oil on the cloth and started to wipe the side of her bedframe.

"No, the monsters don't come on the bed there."

"Where do they come on?"

"They are just on the bed."

I wiped the sheets, pillow and comforter with the clove-doused cloth. Then, with Ada's approval, I rubbed the cloth on the head and foot boards. Ada thought we should also wipe my bed, saying "when I was in your bed I saw a monster there too." I wiped my comforter, pillow and sheets, focusing on the top of the bed where Ada said she'd seen the monster.

We returned to her room, where I told her she should take the cloth. That way, if she saw a monster she could put the cloth on her chest to keep the monster away. Ada asked "why don't monsters like this?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe it smells too strong for them. I kind of like it, though."

"Me too."

And then Ada got into her bed, I told her a woodchuck story, and left her with my usual "I love you" and other soothing words. Now I am crossing my fingers. I hope that the smell of the clove oil helps, that it is strong enough to make her feel it is working. I love my little girl and I hate for her to be scared. And yes, I hate to wake up at 2:30 on a night the babies actually sleep through.

I wrote this on Friday night. Ada slept through the night and was not eaten by monsters. Now it is Saturday night, and Chris and I have been talking to, arguing with and practically wrestling Ada. She says she needs us to sleep. She is refusing to go to bed, and wants to sleep in our bed. She says that the monsters will eat her. (I tried the logic of "if the monsters had eaten you last night, you wouldn't be here now." This worked not at all.) I finally left the room, figuring that my presence was making things worse. After a full 40 minutes of arguments with Ada, Chris finally told her he was done and walked out.


What do you do when a child refuses to go to sleep? What should we do?

This post is from from my other blog here

I am so lucky. This week seemed like a good time to be thankful for some of the people who have made me feel that way.

Abby, who I met in prenatal yoga, not once but twice came over to help us out on days she was child-free and could have been sipping coffee and reading a book.

Dina, who volunteered to spend a couple of hours with Ada so that Chris and I could go out to dinner.

My mother, who this summer spent 10 days helping with baby-wrangling, in those last few days of the "4th trimester" when the babies needed a lot of attention but didn't reward us with a lot of sleep.

Traci, who loaned us a crib so that the babies could stop kick-boxing in their sleep. Looking at them now I can hardy imagine how we kept them in one bed so long.

Ellen, who cooked us pork and polenta and baked apples. And who always gives us food she'd "made too much of."

Elizabeth, who has taken Ada on adventures and playdates with her son, giving us a few hours of respite.

Karen, who does not mind that I call for 10 minute chats.

Chris, who out of nowhere says, you know, if one of these nights you want to go out to dinner with friends or to a movie or something, you should do that.

Neighbors who routinely have Ada over for dinner, where she eats more than she does at home. (Viva Taco Night!)

My boss, for letting me have this past six months at home with Ian and Mira.

My in-laws, for coming to see us regularly even as I balk at packing everyone (and everything) up for the trip down to their house.