Saturday, January 26, 2013

Memory Lane

I started this blog when Clownfish was about Angelfish's age. Wait... even younger. Weird. I was looking through some old posts and realized that, in the "great post-law school blog purge" and in the "great during-law-school blog migration," some really cute Clownfish posts got moved into "draft" and can't be seen anymore on the blog.  So I thought I'd put the text of some of them up here occasionally -- just for perspective -- because my 8 year old is playing with his videogame thing right now, and my toddler and baby are entering these wonderful / terrible phases.

This one was originally posted September 18, 2006. I was just starting law school. Bullshark was overseas. I had forgotten all about this.

* * *

Right now I am typing this post to keep myself from running to my Clownfish. He's been calling out/crying for about 18 minutes.

"My mommy. Open it. Lay down. Get out. Mommy."

(Translation: Open it -- open the gate blocking his door. Lay down -- he wants me to share the mattress with him. Get out -- he wants to come out of his room.)

My heart is breaking. I want to cry.

He's been a pretty good sleeper since 10 months old. Around a year, when he was having trouble going to sleep on his own, we did the cry it out thing, and it worked very quickly and very well. There are people who are for this method, and those militantly against it, and I am probably going to get hate comments for this post. Glad for once Blogger has made commenting so damn inconvenient.

This summer, in retrospect, I screwed up. And we're both paying for it right now.

"Mommy. Open it. Lay down. My Mommy."

We only have one air conditioner. It was really hot -- too hot for me to sleep in my nice AC bedroom and leave the Clownfish sweating with a fan. So I put him in the Pack and Play in my room -- that lasted an hour. He was cramped and miserable. I tried setting him up with a crib mattress on the floor -- nothing doing. There was only one thing for it -- Clownfish moved into my bed.

It worked well -- he still went to sleep on his own at night. I didn't have to lay with him or anything. He took his sippy and said goodnight mommy and generally went to sleep by 7:30 on his own. Just like his crib, but it was my bed. I put up a couple of railings and left without a problem.

Summer is over. And while I miss having his small form curled up on a pillow when I crawl into bed at night, he needs to sleep on his own. There are all sorts of reasons this couldn't continue, not the least of which is that the bed would be crowded when Hubby finally gets home.

(A few minutes of quiet... and then he started again. 28 minutes. Shaking the gate and yelling.)

So, whenever we visited Grandma he slept on his own in a "big boy" bed. He can handle this. He'd done it dozens of times. So when we came back from Grandma's last Sunday night, I moved him into his "big boy" bed here.

(Quiet at 31 minutes... I am scared to go check to see if he's sleeping or just drinking his sippy and gearing up for Round 2.)

Unfortunately, the bed wasn't "big boy" enough. It was his crib, which converts into a toddler bed. He flat out violently refused to get it. I'd never seen him so upset -- even though he could climb in and out on his own, and I had put on snazzy new Thomas the Tank Engine sheets, to him, it was his crib.

Clownfish slept on the floor of his room that night. He was fine. But that couldn't continue either. Grandma had been planning to give us the "big boy" bed anyway (probably next week), so I was not going to go out and buy him another toddler bed. So during the day, I pulled the mattress off his crib/bed, covered it in the same quilt he'd slept on the night before, and now he sleeps happily on the mattress on the floor of his room.

I say happily, but the last few nights, he's been doing classic toddler delay tactics and manipulation moves. One more story, more juice, lay down Mommy, rub back. I've been humoring him the last three nights, but I knew it would happen that I would have to finish stories, prayers, juice, back rub and set the limit that I was not coming back to lay down, or rub back more, or (the best weapon in the toddler arsenal "Kiss Mommy").

Tonight, I set the limit. And he was fine for about 10 minutes, then the calls started... and then the yelled calls, followed by the crying. After a few reassuring visits, I started this post.

(He is curled up on his mattress, sleeping happily, snoring. 31 minutes. That sucked. But it could have been worse.)


  1. In the comments in the original post, I observed that he was a Lawbaby and not a Lawtween. A commenter hoped I would still be blogging then so I could refer to him as such. I guess we're only a year or two away now... huh.

  2. Know what's scary? I remember that post. (I keep on making typos, which is embarassing and which is why I keep deleting my prior comments.)

  3. I am impressed you remember that.

    I took the deleted comments out permanently for you.