the pieces of my life

My daughter’s sleeping habits—or lack thereof—are legendary in our family. Those who have been reading this blog long enough, will remember Pie’s days as a Ferber dropout. Now, mind you, I don’t mean that she was Ferberized by the book and we failed. I mean we went to see Dr. Ferber at Children’s Hospital (three times!) and still failed! The girl didn’t sleep as a baby. She didn’t sleep as a toddler. And she still doesn’t sleep well as an elementary school student.

To go to bed, she needs someone to sit with her while she falls asleep. At night, sometimes, while Adam and I are watching TV, we hear pitter patters of little feet as they run into our room and somehow end up in our bed. There have been mornings where Adam and I have both woken up to find the girl between us and neither one of us will have a memory of her actually getting into our bed.

She’s crafty. She’s got a gripe. She’s crafty. And she’s just my type. </end Beastie Boys interlude>

Recently, though, I got panicky. She’s in kindergarten. Which means the 5th grade science camp trip is just around the corner! (You don’t believe me? The past five years happened in a blink. This is just 4 1/2 years away!). How is she going to sleepover on the science camp trip?

Time for her to learn to sleep. No, really. I mean it this time. Science camp is at stake.

How much do I mean it? I American Girl doll mean it! I made a lovely little chart with two sections: one for falling asleep with no one staying with her, and one for staying in her own bed all night. She chooses if she does them one at a time or both together. She’s opted to do the falling asleep first, which makes sense because she needs to be able to do that to put herself back to sleep at night.

How to make her want to do this? Easy. I handed her an American Girl doll catalog. “Pick anything out of this catalog for your prizes.” It took her two seconds to flip to the exact page she wanted. “Kanani!” Flip, flip. “And her ice cream stand!”

Thatta girl! Bankrupt Mommy and Daddy! In the name of sleep, they’ll let you!

She sleeps with the picture of Kanani by her bed, so when she gets scared before she falls asleep, she can look at the picture and remember why she needs to sleep on her own. She has to fall asleep on her own three weeks, and the last week must be consecutive nights. So far, she’s gone three nights, unhappily but committed, to bed on her own.

Will this work? Check back in three weeks!

Pie is a three year old. Pie has a head cold. So using the transitive property, you can correctly induce that Pie is the devil incarnate.

Last night Pie woke up with a lovely cough at about midnight. But instead of whining about her cough, she decided to go a less obvious route: “Moommmmmy! Moooommmmmy! I peed in my Pull-Up!”

As you may very well know, peeing in a Pull-Up, well, not a big deal. That’s what they’re there for. That’s why Pie doesn’t sleep in underwear. But being the kind parents we are, we offered to change her Pull-Up. So we got the footie pjs and the Pull-Up off. And that’s where the fun began. Pie decided she didn’t want to put a Pull-Up back on. But she sleeps in our bed. Pretty much on top of us. And we weren’t going to risk a Pull-Up free night.

We beg. She screams her head off. We plead. She screams her head off. We negotiate. She screams her head off. It’s now close to 1 a.m. Finally, I say, “Look, Pie, this Pull-Up has to go on. You can put it on nicely. We can put it on like it’s a diaper. Or we can put it on by force. Your choice.”

Obviously she picked the only sensible answer. “By fooooorrrrrce!! Put it on by force.”

So we did. Which ensued in more screaming. I’m pretty sure our neighbors (yea, screaming child in an apartment building!) had the phone books opened to DSS and were poised to dial.

Adam tried to work his magic. “Pie, everyone is sleeping. You need to sleep, too.”

But that Hah-vahd MBA taught Adam nothing. Because Pie outsmarted him. “But the people driving outside–I can see their headlights–they’re not sleeping!”

“Pie,” I told her, “they’re not sleeping because you are keeping them awake. They’re driving away to find some place quieter. If you’d just go to sleep, they could come back and go to sleep.”

And damn if she didn’t. And tonight? Tonight she was dosed with Triaminic Nighttime. If you can’t beat them, drug them!

End of school year time. I’m up to my ears in projects for the preschool. I should be sleeping–I miss my sleep–but I’m too anal not to do these projects right. I’m also about to have my hands full of children. However, the prospect isn’t as daunting as it seemed even a few weeks ago. Pie and I have come to some sort of unspoken agreement, and it seems to be working. (Does blogging count as speaking? If so, then it shall no longer be unspoken.) Basically, I let Pie get away with whatever she wants, and she no longer makes my life a living hell. For instance, we’re skipping the “sleep in your own bed” charade. Pie goes directly to our bed, do not pass go, do not collect $200. In order to avoid jealousy, Doodles beds down in a sleeping bag on the floor of our room.

In return, I’ve had three–yes, three!–days of no diapers. That’s right. Pie declared on Monday, “No more diapers for me, Mommy.” And she’s been an underwear girl since. Few accidents along the way, but nothing too serious. She’s also getting much better about actually speaking to me (as opposed to grunting and temper tantruming) so we have conversations in which I can understand what she wants. She’s gotten uber-polite about all sorts of things (“Mommy, thank you for getting me dressed.” “Mommy, thank you for putting a towel down for me to sit on” [that last one when I didn’t want to risk my chair for the sake of her underwear]).

And she and Doodles are getting along as well as ever. He’s erupting into kid, and as such is giving me more grief as Pie gives me less, but overall, he’s workable. There are certain things he wants that I control (TV, computer time, bike riding time, playdates), so he’s willing to work the system. He’s taking lots of “big kid” leaps–besides losing the training wheels, he can now tie his own shoes, read a simple book, jump into the pool without freaking, and he’s attempting more foods on his own.

I’ve been so focused on the progress of Doodles–end of preschool, getting ready for kindergarten–that it slipped my mind until this morning that Pie is about to leave toddlerhood. She’ll be an honest to goodness preschooler in a few months. Which is great. Because it means that I’ll have a preschooler and a kid sleeping in my room. That’s progress. Right?

Classes at my synagogue are scheduled for 8 p.m. because they want to encourage people to attend the evening minyan. Minyan is held at my synagogue twice a day (morning and night), which is important if you’re saying Mourner’s Kaddish, because you need a minyan to do so, but sometimes rallying ten people can be a challenge, hence starting classes after minyan.

Minyan’s not so bad in the winter, when it’s simply the evening service. But this time of year, because it’s daylight so late, we suffer through both the afternoon and evening service. So before each class I have this dilemma: Do I go to minyan? Or stay home and help put the kids to bed? Needless to say, I’ve been a very good Jew lately.

Bedtime has gotten intolerable. Doodles goes to bed as easily as he ever has, but the Pie is just digging her heels in and making life miserable for us. Last night, I left the house at 7:15 for minyan. I know that Adam put the kids to bed at 7:30. I got home from my class at 9:15. And before I even had the door unlocked, I could hear the screaming.

It’s this vicious cycle–she doesn’t want to go to bed, she’s overtired the next day making her more temper tantrum-y and unpleasant to be around, she’s so overtired she can’t go to sleep well… I’ve tried increasing naps. I’ve tried decreasing naps. We’ve tried putting her to bed earlier. We’ve tried putting her to bed later. Doesn’t seem to matter: We’re guaranteed about an hour to two hours worth of screaming (thank goodness Doodles, who shares a room with her, can sleep through it all).

She gets so worked up that she can’t articulate what she wants. Sometimes it can be solved as easily as a different train from the train table next to her bed. But sometimes–like last night–it’s a guessing game. Do you need a cuddle? Do you need a train? Do you need socks? What do you need?!? And there is no letting her scream it out because it seriously simply won’t end.

I have another class tonight. Oh, I’m sorry, Adam. I’ve got to go early. They really need me for minyan….

Last Friday was a tough day for Pie. Meltdowns at the playground. Didn’t want to nap. Didn’t want to wake up from nap. Didn’t like what was being served. Not happy at the lack of crackers during Passover. By bedtime on Friday, I was pretty much done, and as I’m wont to do, I turned over most of Pie’s bedtime activities to Adam (Doodles is easy to get into bed). So, at bedtime:

Me: Tomorrow’s Saturday.
Pie: Okay.
Me: That means tomorrow you can inflict your pain on Daddy! Does that sound good!
Pie: [Nodding vigorously] Yes!
Me: You’ll inflict your pain on daddy?
Pie: Yes! Pain on daddy! Daddy, take off your shirt?
Adam: Take off my shirt?
Pie: Take off your shirt!
Adam: Why?
Pie: I pain on you. I pain on you!
Adam: What?
Pie: I pain on you. With paintbrush!
Adam: Tomorrow.
Me: Pie, time to go to sleep.
Pie: My eyes are cold.
Adam: So close them.
Pie: No, I need my sunglasses.
Adam: Not in bed.
Me: Okay, Pie, good night!
Pie: No! Hands cold!
Adam: You can get your mittens on yourself.
Pie: A grown-up has to watch when I put my mittens on.

Pie eventually dons her vest, her sweater, Doodles’s Lightning McQueen slippers, and her mittens. It doesn’t keep her in bed, and it’s generally an hour-long process (whether we start at 6 or 9 doesn’t make any difference).

Last night and tonight I’m on my own. Adam’s in Seattle for work (if you’re in Seattle and reading this, don’t expect to hear from him. He arrived at 9:30 p.m. last night and is returning on the red-eye tonight. He gives a presentation today and isn’t even in town for a single dinner). And I brook no nonsense. So bedtime is just screaming now. Although last night our neighbor, B., came by to sit with the kids as I had a class, and as soon as the neighbor came, Pie demanded a kiss from her and settled down. Looks like B. will be over every night when Adam goes out of town because she’s the only one who can get that Pie settled.

Sweet dreams little Pie. Mommy’s buying ear plugs.