The Kicking.

     I haven't set an alarm in four years. A few people have contacted me lately asking why this blog has gone silent. To clarify: I haven't had to set an alarm in four years because my children wake me up. That's right, plural. We've had another one. Which means we either really liked the first one or didn't learn our lesson. I'm not always sure which one it is. Our second girl is about 19 months now and things are starting to calm down. A little. Which is why there is now time to write this post. On the other hand, maybe I have habituated to the level of insane living accompanied by having more than one child.

     It's probably the last one.

     Let it be known now and forever that I am not the world's greatest dad. I'm a good dad. Not the greatest. Little stuff annoys me way too much for me to be the greatest. Things that shouldn't get under my skin, get so under my skin it touches bone. And there is no reason for it! It annoys me when I go pee and am immediately thirsty. It's as if the issue of "full bladder" has just been dealt with, do we really need to begin the cycle all over again so soon? I have things to do today.

     It also annoys me that, apparently, we have to sleep with the door open. This would make more sense if you knew that our youngest slept on a different level of the house. However, we bought a baby monitor so it sounds like she's right in the room with us. Just...right there! It's a VTech Cordless thingy and, you know what? Works great. Has multiple notification settings (vibrate, lights, sound, small bombs) and have never had an issue with connectivity. Which begs the question: Why do we have to sleep with the door open? You don't need it open to hear the baby crying, which she still does, in the middle of the night, even though she's 19 months old. This also annoys me even when I'm asleep.

     I have always been a heavy sleeper. When I was a child, fire alarms would go off in our house and I wouldn't stir. Not only does this speak to my ability to sleep through anything, but also my mother's cooking abilities (sorry Mom!). When our youngest starts crying, I don't wake up, but my wife ALLEGES I most certainly "stir". To believe her, I more than "stir", I kick her until she gets out of bed and gets the baby.

     Is it possible I am so sensitive to annoyances that, even in my sleep, when my body should be paralyzed and I'm imagining a planet made entirely out of trampolines, there's a part of my brain that says, "Hey! Knock it off!" and then starts kicking? There's no way! Even if there is, can I really be held accountable? I submit that no. No I cannot.

     To her credit, my wife is an absolute trooper about it and hasn't complained until lately. And this has been going on for 19 months, give or take. *ProTip*, if you do realize your spouse is missing from the bed, you hear crying, walk downstairs, ask if there's anything you can do to help, and your spouse says in a very steady and calm voice, "stop kicking me and go back upstairs"; just go ahead and go back upstairs. Nothing good can come from the rest of that conversation. I promise.

The Consensus.

     So, one of the easiest ways to decide if you're crazy or not is to see if other people experience reality the same way you do, there's a good chance you're not completely bonkers. As long as everyone else experiences the squares between the squares in the illusion on the left, even though they're not there, it's okay. Now, if you see Jesus in the picture on the left, you may have a problem. Seek help.
     This is a very important thing to remember when you have a kid. If she cries a lot, all the time, and there's nothing you can do about it, you can often feel like a terrible parent. It's an easy assumption to make. She's crying, there's something wrong with her, I can't help her, so I must be a bad parent. But, when a seasoned professional, like grandparents for instance, can't do anything to help either, it's a good thing; in a way. It means it's not just me. If there's a consensus about Evy, that means it's not just me. But it doesn't mean there's nothing we can do. We're taking her to the doctor to have everything checked out, and hopefully we'll be able to give her something that will help. But, if not, we're just going to ride this out until she's over it, and we'll go from there. I just have to keep telling myself it won't last forever... It won't last forever...

The Disconnect.

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     I'm not a computer genius. I think I'm better than most, but there are a lot of people out there better than me, and I'm better than all the people that currently live in my house. This means that when something electronic does goes haywire, it immediately gets passed to me. A friend who's in the same electronic situation I am laughs about this with me. What our wives don't seem to understand is that we don't know right away what's wrong either! We do some poking around, do some research online, take a best guess, try to see if anyone else has had a similar problem, and just keep trying until we find a solution. But the wives, they don't want to know this. I think they truly want to believe I have some magical power over all things computerized. I've talked about this in a little more detail in a previous post. Well, apparently I am to computers as Catie is to Evy.
     There are times when Evy cries, I have no idea what the problem is. She's clean, she's fed, she's the right temperature, but nothing seems to make her happy. At a certain point, I just hand her off to Catie. Nine times out of ten, Evy stops crying, goes all limp and slack-jawed, and then her eyes close. It's like magic! I ask Catie about this, and she says, "Oh, she just wanted to be bounced..." Bounced? That's what she wanted? How in the world did you divine "she just wanted to be bounced" out of that particular cry? It makes no sense to me. Catie and I sit down and start talking about this, because I can't pass Evy off to Catie every time she cries. Partially because it wouldn't be fair, but also because I'm going to stay home with Evy while Catie's at work. So, Catie asks me how I fix problems with computers.
     I tell her there's nothing really to it, I just poke around and see what I can do on my own. If that doesn't work, I look for other people online that may have had similar problems, and try what worked for them. She starts laughing and says, "that's exactly what I do with Evy!" When I think about it, she's right. When Evy was colicky, we tried a bunch of things on our own, none of them worked, so we went out and did some research. We bought a book, tried several new things, and found something that worked. When she cries now, I feel way more empowered. I sort of look at her like a computer, and just try stuff until the disks stop making that noise. And I guess when it comes to parenting I'm a lot like I am with computers: I'm better than a lot of people, but there's a lot of people better than me. Which gives me a little bit of hope. It lets me know I can help a few people out there with their children, and it tells me there's a lot of people out there who can help me. I'm not alone, and neither are you.

The New.

     Happy New Year everyone! For the last few years Catie and I have been in bed when the New Year rolled in. We just slept right through it. This year, that wasn't a problem. Evaline has decided to become colicky. It's not too terrible yet, but it's getting close. For the past four nights she's cried for about four hours straight, completely inconsolable. The new baby smell and charm is tarnishing quickly and my frustration levels are rising just as fast. A friend was over last night and told us it's not really colic until you start wondering how hard you could hit the baby's head against the wall to knock them out without doing any permanent damage. I can say we're not to that point, yet. Still though, most people stay out pretty late on New Year's eve. If you're one of those people, and you don't have kids yet, the way you feel in the morning is how I feel every morning. The only difference being that I don't have any crazy stories or incriminating photos that show up the next morning on Facebook.
     In the mean time my room has been converted into an obstacle course, rife with rockers, swings, blankies, baby shoes, and who knows what else. Trying to walk around in the dark is going to shorten my life considerably. The worst part of the whole thing is there's nothing I can do to make her feel better. It's pretty much the most powerless I've ever felt. Regardless, she's healthy, she's pretty, and this isn't going to last forever. Even if it feels like it.