The Descent

It looks benign enough.  Pretty in its simplicity and pinkness.  Yet beneath the blanket and all of the wooden animals on the wall lies danger.  An epic journey that one little explorer will dare to complete, and at too young of an age for her angst-ridden parents.  It is a journey through a family's deepest fears of being terrorized in the night. Most of all it is the possibility of many sleepless nights. It is Gracie's conquering of Mt. Crib Rail.

Just as certain mountain ranges have protected empires and countries over the centuries we expected to be protected from the onslaught of our toddler for a while longer.  But our modern day Hannibal did not need elephants to defeat this peak.  All she needed was a stuffed animal and a pillow.  And once she had learned the technique she needed no help at all.

 It started Sunday when Emilee put her down for a nap.  She was fighting it as she usually does and she finally got quiet.  Quiet in her crib is usually a good thing because it means she has finally succumbed to sleep; but not today.  I heard her loud and clear and way to close.  When I looked up there she was STANDING in the living room. Oh Sh.......

I picked her up and she got a big grin on her face. She knew she had accomplished something, and I am pretty sure she knew she had accomplished something that Mom & Dad were not looking forward to.  Don't get me wrong; I want Gracie to make progress.  But not when I know it is going to lead to some sleepless nights and some late night visits from a creature that only has two eyes, a forehead, and two hands.  For those of you lost right now I have added a visual aid.

 I carried her back into her room and placed her into the crib (after removing all ladder materials) and just watched her. For an hour and a half. Until she went to sleep.  We just kind of stared at each other.  Her just waiting to make a break for it again!  But eventually she did fall asleep and the afternoon passed with no further incident.

Then this morning I hear the usual yelling of "DADDY" which is usually my cue to come get her out of bed and start our day.  The only problem was that as she continued to yell for me the volume increased and seemed to be getting closer.  I got out of bed and as I pulled on a shirt she came walking into my bedroom.  Before I could even get out a groan of "my life is now going to be much more difficult" she put her arms up to me and said "Daddy, Boo Boo". But she looked to be intact.

That's when I learned the descent from Mt. Crib Rail can be hazardous. I never heard a thump, scream, or any other noise that would indicate that the trip from the peak to the base camp was anything other than non-eventful.  There was no limp, deformities, or woozy walking.  So I asked where the boo boo was.  That's when Miss Anna Grace "Edmund Hillary" Bozicevich pulled out her pacifier and showed her bloody maw.  I had a quick flashback to the finger I almost chopped off of her and then regained my senses.  A lot of blood, but little damage.

So our little adventurer bought her freedom with a fat lip.  A fat lip that will cause her a little bit of pain (she never mentioned it after the first announcement) and her mother and I all kinds of aggravation.  The crib has been converted to a toddler bed.  She seemed in awe of her ability to climb in and out of it as easily as she walks.  But I know down deep she is laughing; a sinister laugh I am sure. And I KNOW she is already plotting her next move to terrorize Em & myself.

Keep Smiling,

Rob

From Two Pink Lines to Two Years Old!

I know that most people look back at blocks of their lives and try to make sense out of the things that happened to them.  It would be SO easy to start this off with "I didn't know what love was until two years ago", or "two years ago my life became complete".  That's what you are supposed to think about your first child right? You are supposed to be in awe of the miracle of life and never doubt that having a child was the best decision of your life. You are supposed to have sunshine and roses shooting out of your ass every day.  Or so Oprah and Dr. Phil would have you believe.

When I think about the past two years and all it involved.... I am surprised all three of us survived it!

Seriously, who does this to themselves?  Sleepless nights, frustration, tears, crying for Mommy or Daddy, stubbornness, throwing her food; I mean when is Emilee gonna stop this nonsense?

Okay, back to the gentle meanderings of Rob's mind........

The past two years have taught me a few of things:

1. Never place your hand IN the diaper to check its cleanliness.
2. Just because she loved this meal yesterday does not mean that she will enjoy it today, or ever again for that matter.
3. A good dog is better than a vacuum.
4. Em & I  are as addicted to the pacifier as Gracie is.
5. Making the kid laugh can totally change your whole attitude on life.

I have also figured out that my life did not end on 3/1/10.  This is an important fact to state because as excited as I was on that day, I was pretty sure life as I knew it had ended.  I was very relieved to figure out that after the first 12 weeks we were pretty much in a groove.  We figured out how to do some of the things we loved to do and even have time to ourselves.  If only she stayed 3 months old forever!  Getting a two year old to agree to your plans is not always as easy! But watching what happens is fun! 

 She has learned how to talk to some degree and trying to figure out what see wants is often a challenge.  For example, she says something that sounds like the word cracker. So as a dutiful father I get up go over to the pantry and hand her a cracker, and she shakes her head and says "No Daddy...Cracker". So I look at what she is pointing at and give her a cookie. She shakes her head and says "No Daddy...Cracker". We play this game with potato chips, pop tarts, bread, nutri-grain bars, and a popped bag of popcorn; she is having none of it. So I finally pick her up and lift her to the shelf she is pointing at.  Gracie reaches over and grabs the bag of dog treats, takes one out of the bag, and throws it at the dog and yells "Goggie....Cracker!"  But do you think this is what she wants the next time she asks for a cracker?

We also manged to end up with a Grandmother named House. Emilee's Mom, Edna, came up with the name Edie (E-DEE) for her Grandmotherly nickname. So every time we go to Edie's we ask Gracie if she wants to go to Edie's House.  This apparently caused some confusion for Gracie and we now have House instead of Edie.  Much like I had an Uncle Butch whose name was actually Fritz.  Good to know early childhood confusion is genetic.





Keep Smiling and Enjoy the pics!

Rob