Wishing for an ear infection

Yes, you read that correctly.  I am actually wishing for an ear infection.  Or more accurately, I am wishing Peanut had an ear infection.  Now before you jump to any conclusions, put down your wire hangers and let me explain.

For those of you who have been following my blog for awhile, you may remember that Peanut was having “periods of wakefulness” in the middle of the night…every night.  At first we blamed it on teething, but it continued well after all her teeth were in (including her two year molars).  We worried she was too cold or too hot.  We thought she might need a separation toy or blankie.  We even tried white noise and darkening the room – and nothing seemed to work.

As a last effort, we moved up her bedtime a full hour, following the somewhat counterintuitive parenting adage, “sleep begets sleep”.  Even that was a bust.

On a friend’s recommendation, we reached out to a sleep specialist, who provided some additional pointers (i.e…just let her cry it out…which we had done before, but with the combination of her new bedtime it really worked wonders).  And just like that, our little monster was sleeping through the night…and finally, so were we.

Then all of a sudden, just this week she started to wake up in the middle of the night again…every night for the last four.  And now that she can talk, it isn’t just crying.  There is usually some repetition of “daddy, daddy, daddy,” chanted in the saddest, most pitiful tone. 

For the first two nights, I though she might be overtired or have a little tummy ache.  After night three, I was certain it was an ear infection.  I even asked Peanut if her ears hurt, to which she replied, “Yes.”  Then again, she says yes to anything that ends with a question mark, so I am not sure her answers are 100% accurate (and I am pretty sure she doesn’t understand the word “hurt” yet).  So relying on my “parental intuition”, we packed up and headed to see her doctor.  And to my utter surprise, the doctor said her ears were just fine.

Seriously?

My response to the doctor: Oh f*ck.  Oh f*ck.   Oh f*ck.

So besides learning that my parental intuition sucks, I’m at a real loss.  No fever.  No teething.  And her room is a comfortable temperature.  She isn’t stuck in a blanket.  The room is dark, but it isn’t pitch black.  And she has a blankie.  I am game for trying “crying it out” again, but I kind of feel like, “been there, done that.” 

An ear infection would mean that there is some clear explanation for Peanut’s sleep issues and something we can do about it – but we aren’t so lucky.  Yesterday, the director of Peanut’s day care told me that this is typical, and that kids sleep goes through different phases.  I appreciate the advice, but really not so helpful.  What I really want to know is how do I switch this phase into the off position?

A View from The View on Gay Marriage

You have to check out this hilarious segment from The View. I love what Elisabeth Hasselback has to say, but even better is a quote from Whoopi Goldberg: "If you're not into gay marriage, don't marry a gay person." Also check our her funny remarks about zoophilia.

Gay Marriage Watch » Blog Archive » The View’s Elisabeth Hasselbeck Condemns Anti Gay Marriage Protesters

Lawsuit filed to bring down NY gay marriage act

It was only a matter of time:

N.Y. Group Readies Suit to Nullify Gay Marriages - NYTimes.com

Can't these people spend their time on more important pursuits: world peace, feeding the hungry, getting a life?

For the man who has everything

Add to the list of things I never knew I needed but now I really want: air conditioned clothing!

Japanese Company Designs Air-Conditioned Clothing (VIDEO)

To Toddler Bed or Not To Toddler Bed…That is the Question!

She didn’t walk early.  She didn’t talk early.  And yet somehow, my daughter figured out how to climb out of her crib by 18 months.  And then again at 22 months.  While I don’t want to flip out about it…I am sort of flipping out about it.

The first time she did it took me totally by surprise.  I opened her door first thing in the morning to find her running towards me with a huge grin on her face.  I thought that was a bit odd, since the last time I saw her she had been safely ensconced in her crib (and before you ask, yes, her crib is on the lowest setting).  And then this past weekend we walked in to discover her reading books in her rocking chair, which she has also learned to climb into (cute, yes…in a “I hope you didn’t break your arm while mountain climbing your way down from the crib”).

I did some research online after the first time Peanut crib hopped – and several sources recommended that parents not rush out and buy a toddler bed the first time their child jumps the crib.  Sage advice, I thought.  So we decided to hold off on making a decision and surrounded the crib with pillows and down blankets instead.

Now that Peanut is six months older with much more refined climbing skills, I feel that it is only a matter of time before she does it again.  So the big question now is has the time come to transition her to a toddler bed? 

If safety was our only concern, I’d say it is definitely the right choice.  But to be honest, I’m just not sure Peanut is ready to transition to a toddler bed (ditto for us).  Her listening skills are sorely lacking (typical toddler behavior…my daughter loves loves loves to assert her independence).  No matter how many times we tell her, “You need to stay in bed until Daddy or Papa comes in to get you,” I just don’t see her following that particular directive.

Take last night, for instance.  I awoke at 1am to hear her moaning, “Daddy, daddy” from her room.  I walked in, at which point she “played dead”, flattening herself against the mattress, feigning sleep.  I checked for fever.  I checked for a dirty diaper.  I checked for anything that might be keeping her awake and found nothing.  A quick rub of the back/kiss of the cheek, and I zombie walked back to my room.  The moaning, however, didn’t cease until nearly 3am, at which point she got a squirt of ibuprofen and thankfully nodded off to sleep.

Now let’s look at this scenario again, imagining that Peanut was in a toddler bed.  I have no doubt that she would haul her little tushy from bed, read, play, shout, and be a general pain.  All of a sudden, she’ll have a free ticket to do whatever she likes…and I have no doubt that my daughter will take full advantage of the opportunity.  It’s a recipe for disaster!

There is one other option – the dreaded crib tent (aka crib cage).  Advertisers refer to them as “cozy crib tents”, but to me they magically transform the crib into a jail cell.  I fully expect to come into her room to find her banging on the bars, playing the harmonica or singing about working on the chain gang.

Now be honest - does he look happy?

The other problem is purely aesthetic – my mom bought us this beautiful tea stain crib and changing table set, and I can’t find a toddler bed that matches the exact color.  I am no Design Star, but I do like my furniture to match.  And I can’t get Peter to agree to a princess bed – which I know reinforces potentially negative stereotypes and sets up poor role models – but is OH SO CUTE!

Isn't this just darling...wish I had one.

Let’s be honest – this decision is more about me than it is about Peanut.  I’m worried a move to a toddler bed is going to mess up my sleep – which after months and months of being less than ideal has finally returned to a semi normal state.  It just seems so unfair.  But the clock is ticking and my days are numbered.  A toddler bed is indeed in the near future.  I just hope we are all ready for it!

No, I am not a monster if I sleep train

Sleep Training–It’s a Gift | Of Fi I Sing

Love, love, love this blog post. We sleep trained Peanut (several times...don't ask) but it does work. Sickness and travel aside, and assuming we stick to standard sleep/nap times, Peanut sleeps from 7pm-6/6:30am. It is a magical moment when they sleep through the night. You feel like you've won the lottery...break out the white zinfandel, baby!

On Love, Sex & Marriage

This is a heady time in gay history.  As you know, just yesterday New York joined the ranks of other progressive states (and Iowa) in legalizing gay marriage.  Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is effectively abolished.  Gay rights activists have renewed energy aimed at overturning the Defense of Marriage Act, and I fully expect to see it brought down within my own lifetime.  And if you put your stock in polls, some poll somewhere has said more than half of Americans support equal civil rights for gays (I personally hate polls, and in the interest of my detest I have declined to indicate where that statistic came from…maybe I made it up…but I guarantee there is a poll that says it).

I have been asked by no less than ten friends and coworkers if I was going to get married…to which I responded “Again?  Why would I want to do that.” with some degree of astonishment and horror.  Don’t get me wrong – my views on marriage do not match my father’s in any way, who once told me, and I quote: “Marriage is an institution.  And who wants to live in an institution.”  Child of divorce…bet you could have guessed that one.

Actually, Peter and I are both children of divorce, and at times I am surprised we ended up married (legally performed in Chicopee, Massachusetts in September, 2008). When I first met Peter, the very idea of marriage was anathema to him.  His family story is his to tell, but let’s just say he didn’t grow up with Cleavers.  My parents divorce was fairly brutal, with plenty of emotional scars to go around.  And of course, when we met seven years ago it wasn’t legal at all in the United States for gays to get married, so the conversation was something of a non-starter. 

Around the time we started to investigate adoption, I began to think about the power of the word marriage, and the meaning it conveyed not only to the couple, but to the community at large.  Marriage has a sense of maturity and permanence associated with it, ironic given the rate of divorce in the US (another poll I could quote…but I’ll pass).  Anyway, one night over a particularly bland Indian dinner (hard to find good ethnic food in the suburbs, to be discussed in a future post) Peter and I discussed it and he agreed…yes reader…just like that he said, “Okay, let’s get married.”  Not super romantic, but you get what you get and you don’t get upset.

The wedding itself was a rather ho hum affair.  In order to get married, I had to agree that we wouldn’t throw a party or invite anyone (which resulted in my mother not speaking to me for nearly a month), but I was young, and I wanted to get married, so I agreed.  We hired a Justice of the Peace, bounded off to the town hall in Chicopee, Mass, and bada bing bada boom, we were husband and husband.

Speaking of the word husband…I do love how confused people look when I refer to Peter as my husband.  At the doctor’s office, supermarket, even at work…people kind of take a step back to process it.  But I digress.

So, as we all rejoice in New York’s decision (or as some of us rejoice…and others foretell the end of the world and other sorts of doom and destruction), I have been fascinated by the way the media has covered this landmark in gay history.  

In addition to stories on just married couples, WNYC covered two other sides of the New York gay marriage legislation last Friday (Many Same-Sex Couples Avoid Gay Marriages Over Legal, Personal Concerns): gay people who don’t want to get married…and gay people who still can’t get married (because their partner is not a US citizen and the New York legislation does not impact federal immigration law).  I am lucky Peter has a green card (he is a French citizen) otherwise we could be in the same position.

The other news angle that has fascinated me is about the impact that gay marriage may/can/will have on straight marriage (i.e. will gay attitudes toward monogamy erode the sexual fidelity that is the bedrock of most straight marriages).  There was a great article about this in both the New York Times (Married with Infidelities) and in The Advocate (Monogamish).  Both articles refer heavily to sex columnist Dan Savage, also known for his work on the “It Get’s Better Campaign”.  Dan coined the word “monogamish” to refer to his partner Terry – they are primarily monogamous, but have had a handful of (approved) extramarital flings.  In his mind, the flings should not undermine the strength of a marriage which should be about more than sexual fidelity.  I encourage you to check out the articles.  Monogamy is one of those topics that fascinate me.  Of course, as I read these articles my only question was…who has the time??????

As I look at the ring on my finger now (and the gross…and permanent…indentation it has made on my hand) I am honestly ecstatic that my children will grow up in a world where the possibility of marriage exists for both gay and straight couples.  Whether my daughter chooses to take advantage of it will be up to her, but she will know that her Daddy and Papa benefitted from living at a time when civil rights for gay people took a massive step forward.  The meaning of marriage may change, but the underlying idea that it is a union of shared responsibilities is an important part of what makes our society function.

Anyone else creeped out by the "family bed"

Bed sharing with toddler – no harm, no benefit for kids over 1 – The Chart - CNN.com Blogs

I do my best not to make unsavory remarks about other people's parenting choices (although I once did see a woman breastfeed a 5 year old...my feeling is that once they can ask for the breast, your boob feeding days are numbered, but then again who asked me, right?). But for some reason the idea of the family bed sends shivers down my spine.

Sure, I've read the stories that the family bed helps a child's overall cognitive, social and emotional development - refuted in the article linked above. I have also read that it adds spice to a couples intimate life (although sex in the laundry room is not my idea of a good time). But even so, the family bed is not for me.

Where do you fall on this issue, dear readers? Are you a family bed enthusiast? Are you fundamentally opposed to six in a bed? Let's talk!

Three cheers for gay pride!

I may be a little bit late on this one, given that the NYC Gay Pride Parade was nearly three weeks ago, but I have to say that this year's parade was kind of a watershed moment for me.  And to think - I really didn't want to go.

Now that is my kind of flag!

About a month before the parade, Peter suggested that we not only attend, but walk with his company.  I was a bit surprised - in the almost seven years Peter and I have been together, we have only been to the parade together twice.  For some reason he was really jazzed up about going this year, which surprised me.  They were even providing matching shirts (which really didn't sweeten the pot, to be honest...and for someone who likes things that are free, that is saying a lot).  Imagine it, hiking to the city with a 20 month old, standing around while we wait for our turn to enter the parade cue, and then walking block after block in the hot sun with an irritable toddler.  Not really my idea of a great weekend.  I tried to hide my dismay (which apparently I suck at, according to Peter) but agreed to go.

And I am so glad I did.

Sure, we had to stand around for a long time.  And it was warm, although thankfully there was nice cloud cover and a cool breeze.  And of course the crowd was buoyed by the excitement of New York passing the gay marriage bill just a few days before (thank you, guv'nor).  Someone even got engaged in the parade just behind us (one of many, I expect).

That wasn't the high point for me - it was the reaction that Peanut got from the crowd.  People were freaking out over her (I will admit, she is damn cute), waving, smiling, cooing...it was AMAZING.  As we turned the corner at Washington Square Park, even the drag queens were calling out to her.  Maybe I personalize it too much - but it felt like people were cheering for her - and for us.  Never before have I felt such broad approval of my lifestyle choices.  For a person whose family and identity is constantly ridiculed and insulted by people the world over, it felt great to experience total acceptance and celebration.

Peanut's new favorite activity is walking around the house with her mini pride flag, pretending to wave at the throngs of onlookers watching her pass.  Clearly, the attention she got at the parade has gone straight to her head.  Next stop - Toddlers and Tiara?  (god forbid).

Adventures in hair care

As male Caucasian parents of an African-American girl, one of the questions we are often asked is, "How do you care for her hair?"  

Initially, I didn't think much about it.  Peanut's hair was straight when she was born - and we were so busy learning how to be the parents of a newborn, we didn't really give much thought to difference in hair care.  However, when Peanut was about six months old, the head teacher in her day care classroom suggested that we needed to take better care of her hair and recommended a product called Pinks (which appropriately comes in a Pink bottle).  She was the first of many helpful women who have stepped forward to offer suggestions, advice, or hair care tips.

Since then, all manner of products have been recommended to us - from Crisco, Vaseline and olive oil, to Curly Q's, Kinky Curly, Hair Milk, and Moroccan Oil.  My mom even participated in the conversation by giving us a copy of Chris Rock's film "Good Hair" (which I will admit we have yet to watch).  

Early on, we learned that because of the texture and dryness of her hair, we needed to limit washings to once per week (which is challenging when you have a child who likes to put all manner of things on her head: sand...yogurt...the odd dirty diaper).  We quickly developed a daily moisturizing regimen, combined with once weekly washings and comb outs using a thick tooth combed and a special conditioner.  And this more or less was working...except that Sunday washings were absolute hell.  Peanut's hair was knotted and tangled from a week without brushing, and no matter what we did, she would spend the bulk of the bath screaming, "Daddy....nooooooooooo!"  It may break your heart...but it was damn annoying.

And don't even mention braids.  I am reasonably capable of braiding long straight hair (hours of practice on my sister's Barbie dolls).  But that's a cake walk...try braiding short curly hair on a constantly moaning, struggling toddler.  Not a pretty picture.  I continue to be envious when I see little girls with cornrows or braids...envious that I both have no idea how to reproduce that, and I have a child who wouldn't even sit still to let me (and I can't really blame her - I don't want a novice rooting through my hair either).

So this last weekend I finally broke down and decided to take Peanut for a haircut, with the hope that it would simplify Sunday washings and be easier to style.

That's when we discovered detangler!  The woman at the kids salon used it to brush through Peanut's hair.  And while her idea of a hairstyle left something to be desired (seriously, using 25 butterfly clips is a total mess, not a hairstyle) she gave me a great idea!

Now detangler has become a staple of our daily routine, and Peanut's hair looks absolutely gorgeous.  I have been in love with her curls from the beginning (I sure hope she is when she gets older - I recently purchased the kids book "Happy to be Nappy" by Bell Hooks and Chris Raschka, which is a celebration of curly, nappy hair, to help reinforce that she has beautiful hair) but a daily brush through with detangler makes her hair look so much healthier.  We follow-it up with a dab of Moroccan Oil, and Peanut is good to go.  And she has been a real trooper about it.  This morning she read a book while I set about my work, which is a huge improvement over the moaning and screeching.  

Next step - learning how to braid curly hair...any suggestions?

And if you haven't seen this Sesame Street video, aptly titled "I love my hair," you have to check it out.  Thanks to Beth for sharing it with me!

I really love my hair!