On Banshees...
I can’t believe I got through the entire post below without once mentioning parenthood in general, or Kaleigh Madison (for now on known by her rapper name – K.M.) specifically. I had planned on rolling out an email detailing her exploits in the world of sleep over the past week. I know her sleep patterns were on your mind lately since last weeks message identified her nighttime rebellion.
Last Friday night, Dad (that would be me, scary as it may seem) decided to give Mom a break for the weekend. She had fought a hard good fight the whole week, and it was time to bring in the reserves. Armed with my steely determination, Baby Wise manual and fresh pumped breast milk, I sent the woman off to bed and started to plan my strategy for baby domination. She eyed me warily from over the top of her Pack N Play, and I regarded her with my best Clint Eastwood spaghetti western scowl while on the couch. It was a Mexican stand-off…well, without the required third person…or the Ennio Marricone whistling soundtrack in the background.
The first step, as any good role-playing geek knows, is to roll initiative. She clearly took the roll and started in with her “Banshee Wail of Eternity”. I made my saving throw, and was unaffected by her attack, despite the quivering lip. I quickly pulled out my “Bottle of Warm Mother’s Milk” and went to work. The affects were almost immediate. I had defeated her, if only for a time. The real worry was what would happen once my ammunition was spent. Round 1 was mine.
I failed my initiative roll again at the beginning of round 2. She tried for the “Whimper of Three Hours” tact. I didn’t budge. I held my ground and quickly pulled out my “Straight Jacket Swaddle of Permanence”. Before she knew it she was wrapped up like a mental patient, and my second weapon “Rock N Move, Rock N Move” was descending on her. She was unable to resist the barrage and her eyes grew heavy.
It wasn’t fair really. She didn’t have a chance. She’s basically powerless to stop the charms of Dad. As she slept into her milk coma I gently returned her to the Pack N Play. I’ll admit, due to her previous antics I was not buying what I thought was her psuedo-sleep tactics. I returned to the couch to settle in, ready to spring to action should she emerge again. I checked the clock…12:30a.m.
…to my surprise, we both woke up around 5:00a.m. I had done it! Four and a half ours of blissful sleep has been accomplished by me…Dad. I took the now whimpering and hungry baby up to Mom careful not to look smug. I think I did a good job too. I handed her the baby, said that I thought she might be hungry and quickly left the room. Honestly, all I said to her about the whole evening was “Igothertosleepforfourandahalfhoursanddidn’thavetodealwithhoursofcryingnannernanner.” I don’t like to brag you see.
I was ready to collect my father of the year award. In the following four nights, K.M. put together 4-5 hours each night. I started to clear a place on the mantle for my trophy. I wondered if they could really fit the words “Best Dad Ever” on the side of the shiny gold cup. I mean, big enough for everyone to see. My wife, well, she was less than supportive. Said something about “big head” and “you wait”.
Women are so transparent in their jealousy. I can’t help it that I have the touch…
Until last night that is… I don’t know what happened, but at about 10:00p.m., K.M. attacked in force. There was no time to prepare. I’m not sure what you call her method of attack, but she cried louder and harder than I had ever heard. I seriously thought that I had broke her. I was checking limbs to see if I sprained, or worse, broke something. It wasn’t pain though friends…it was revenge. She did the old sleep and wail, sleep and wail routine we all know and love so well.
Faced with that kind of attack, one that I was powerless to stop, I did what any self respecting father would do… I handed her off to Mom and ran for the hills!
Last Friday night, Dad (that would be me, scary as it may seem) decided to give Mom a break for the weekend. She had fought a hard good fight the whole week, and it was time to bring in the reserves. Armed with my steely determination, Baby Wise manual and fresh pumped breast milk, I sent the woman off to bed and started to plan my strategy for baby domination. She eyed me warily from over the top of her Pack N Play, and I regarded her with my best Clint Eastwood spaghetti western scowl while on the couch. It was a Mexican stand-off…well, without the required third person…or the Ennio Marricone whistling soundtrack in the background.
The first step, as any good role-playing geek knows, is to roll initiative. She clearly took the roll and started in with her “Banshee Wail of Eternity”. I made my saving throw, and was unaffected by her attack, despite the quivering lip. I quickly pulled out my “Bottle of Warm Mother’s Milk” and went to work. The affects were almost immediate. I had defeated her, if only for a time. The real worry was what would happen once my ammunition was spent. Round 1 was mine.
I failed my initiative roll again at the beginning of round 2. She tried for the “Whimper of Three Hours” tact. I didn’t budge. I held my ground and quickly pulled out my “Straight Jacket Swaddle of Permanence”. Before she knew it she was wrapped up like a mental patient, and my second weapon “Rock N Move, Rock N Move” was descending on her. She was unable to resist the barrage and her eyes grew heavy.
It wasn’t fair really. She didn’t have a chance. She’s basically powerless to stop the charms of Dad. As she slept into her milk coma I gently returned her to the Pack N Play. I’ll admit, due to her previous antics I was not buying what I thought was her psuedo-sleep tactics. I returned to the couch to settle in, ready to spring to action should she emerge again. I checked the clock…12:30a.m.
…to my surprise, we both woke up around 5:00a.m. I had done it! Four and a half ours of blissful sleep has been accomplished by me…Dad. I took the now whimpering and hungry baby up to Mom careful not to look smug. I think I did a good job too. I handed her the baby, said that I thought she might be hungry and quickly left the room. Honestly, all I said to her about the whole evening was “Igothertosleepforfourandahalfhoursanddidn’thavetodealwithhoursofcryingnannernanner.” I don’t like to brag you see.
I was ready to collect my father of the year award. In the following four nights, K.M. put together 4-5 hours each night. I started to clear a place on the mantle for my trophy. I wondered if they could really fit the words “Best Dad Ever” on the side of the shiny gold cup. I mean, big enough for everyone to see. My wife, well, she was less than supportive. Said something about “big head” and “you wait”.
Women are so transparent in their jealousy. I can’t help it that I have the touch…
Until last night that is… I don’t know what happened, but at about 10:00p.m., K.M. attacked in force. There was no time to prepare. I’m not sure what you call her method of attack, but she cried louder and harder than I had ever heard. I seriously thought that I had broke her. I was checking limbs to see if I sprained, or worse, broke something. It wasn’t pain though friends…it was revenge. She did the old sleep and wail, sleep and wail routine we all know and love so well.
Faced with that kind of attack, one that I was powerless to stop, I did what any self respecting father would do… I handed her off to Mom and ran for the hills!
posted by Beeley at 2:02 PM
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