Please sir, can I have some more?

Have you ever have one of those days where you wake up and as the sun streams through your curtains, you are 100% certain today is going to be a great day? Maybe it's the fact that you slept an extra hour in addition to your usual allotted 4. Maybe it's the sweet baby coos coming from the crib in the corner of your room. Whatever it is, you leap from your bed in the greatest of moods.

And then fall flat on your face as the day decides to trip you. Then it kicks you in the crotch while it spits in your face and gives you a wedgie.

It wasn't just one big thing going wrong, just millions of little ones:

Like whatever plague has infested my body since mid-December has reared it's ugly head again and I'm coughing up stuff that must be radio-active, it's so green. I think a high pressure system has moved into my sinuses and my head just might explode soon.

Like my son spitting up everything he ever ate all over me several times today. A girl only has so many pairs of sweat pants.

Like the attitude of my kids making me seriously contemplate changing their names to Crabby and Clingy.

Like when I do decide to indulge myself and hop in the shower for the first time in 2 days, Clingy can't handle the two minutes I'm away from him, and Crabby won't even entertain the thought of entertaining him.

Like Crabby melting down at the slightest thing; "my hand hurts, I don't know how to do that (dress herself - yes she does), I can't find my slipper, the dog is looking at me, the bathroom is cold, my leg hurts, I want a pink spoon..." Oh, the drama.

Like Clingy deciding he wants to be held. All day. And not in a sling, or a carrier. Nope, only two human arms will do.

Like me stress-eating an entire bag of kettle corn (okay, that was about the best thing that happened today).

Like Clingy rockin' the 45-minute intruder. Every. Single. Nap (for those non-parents, the 45-minute intruder is where your child inexplicably wakes up after only 45 minutes. And they're not very happy about it and won't go back to sleep).

Like Crabby throwing the fit to end all fits because I wouldn't let her wear a dress. Because we were painting and I asked her to wear clothes that I didn't mind getting paint on them. The conversation went something like this:

E: But I don't want to wear those clothes. I want a dress.

Me: I don't want you to get pain on any of your dresses.

E: But I won't be a princess.

Me (thinking Walt Disney needs a serious knee to the groin for his role in the whole princess scam): Princesses wear pants too, Elise.

E: But I won't look pretty.

Me: Clothes don't make you pretty, it's who you are and your ATTITUDE that makes you pretty.

E: But I will look like a boy.

At this point I tell her she needs to stop arguing. It's those clothes or she doesn't get to paint. And if she continues to argue with me, I will take all her dresses away and she'll have to wear pants from now on (yeah, okay... a little extreme. But we have this argument word-for-word EVERY. TIME).

Well, you'd think her dresses were actually puppies and I had threatened to drown them by the way she reacted.

And even though I wanted to run out the door, leaving Seven in charge, I didn't. I kept my cool. I counted backwards from 1000. I muttered expletives under my breath.

And after Fred came home and we ate dinner... I went to Target. Strangely, it helped.

It's a good thing my kids are just too cute...

When Good Babies Go Bad

The book Babywise is very polarizing. I'm not sure why this is, because to me, the premise is simple. Put your baby on a schedule, adhere to it, and for the most part all will be well. Fred and I read this book when Elise was 2 weeks old, mostly because we felt like we had entered one of Dante's circles of hell. There was lots of screaming, and it was very, very hot (it was September in Dallas, after all). Seriously, we were all frustrated and cranky because we tried to let Elise dictate the schedule, and it turns out that babies really aren't so good at this. So one Saturday after I had posted a sign on our front door that said "Abandon all hope ye who enter here", Fred decided to read Baby Wise. We had heard a lot about it, mostly as a form of child abuse. But those who had good things to say about it, swore by it. What did we have to lose, more sleep? I don't actually think it's possible to get negative hours of sleep.

I know what you are saying. "But Joanne, not all babies are the same!" This is true. But I also know that Elise is proof that it works. I've had many friends (interestingly enough, most of them don't have kids), tell me that you can't live your life around your child's schedule. And I think to some extent this can be true, but I still think it's important to do what's best for your baby. When I became a Mom, I gave up the life of doing what I want, when I want to. I can't be selfish anymore and tell my child, "You'll sleep when it works best for me."

Here's an analogy (My husband says I'm terrible at these, but hear me out). You're snoozing away, all nice and comfy in your bed, when your husband wakes you up because he wants to go hang out with friends at 3 a.m. Or he makes you stay up until 1 a.m. so you can watch the Rangers game that went into extra innings. Wouldn't you be a tad bit crabby? I've read that babies should get 14-16 hours a sleep per day (compared to our 8). If you were only getting 4 hours a night because you either were being woken up early or going to bed late (or not getting to sleep at all), you too would be a bit hard to deal with. When I am out with Elise, I cannot tell you the number of times people have asked me if she is always so good. She is. Seriously, she is just so happy to hang and do whatever you're doing. The exception always comes when she hasn't napped well.

I'm not trying to start a debate on what kind of parenting works best. And I'm not saying I have all the answers. I just know what worked for me and kept me sane during the 6 weeks before she started sleeping though the night.