Friday, February 01, 2008


Yesterday when I put the girls down for nap at one, Genevieve proceeded to begin talking, fussing, yelling, singing, and then, ultimately, crying and screaming. She has been going through a phase of crying and screaming every time she is put to bed, especially for naps. The only solution is to ignore her; generally, there is nothing wrong other than a whole lot of hard-headedness. She has been known, however, even at her tender age of 17 months, to SKIP HER NAP altogether. And, you understand, this is her only nap. There is no more morning nap, and has not been for a couple of months. (An aside: I actually have no idea how long ago it was that she dropped her morning nap. Isn't that insane? I mean, we're talking sometime in RECENT HISTORY. But was it December? October? Earlier in January? I have no idea. This strikes me as alarming, and also hilarious. When I had only one child, I knew exactly when she dropped her morning nap.)

Yesterday, however, after about 30 or 40 minutes of nap protestation, I was forced to go in and check on her because she had become a bit hysterical. You know, the nonstop screaming and all. When I went in, Genevieve was standing up in her crib, her sleep-sack unzipped and her arms out of the sleeves, her teddy bear and her Silky thrown onto the floor, and her diaper leaked all the way through her clothes. Dang.

So I changed her, which necessitated taking her with me down to the laundry room, naked, to get dry clothes since Julia was asleep in the nursery where the girls' dressers are. After that, I decided to nurse her for a minute or two to calm her down before putting her back down. By now, of course, it was nearing two o'clock, and Julia was due awake at any moment. When I nursed Genevieve, she fell asleep within seconds. But naturally when I put her back into her bed, she woke up and began sobbing. I left the room.

Eventually the hysterical shrieking resumed. So I went in to check on her again. She had thrown her Silky and bear onto the floor again and was once again standing up in bed, pointing down at them and yelling. She also HAD A POOPY DIAPER. (Are you keeping score at home?)

So of course I changed her (again), nursed her (again), and, since she STILL had not gotten any sleep, put her down (again).

At 2:40, with Julia awake, I gave in and got Genevieve up after an hour and 40 minutes, total, of screaming. Naturally she spent the rest of the afternoon fussing and crying over everything, overtired as she was.

And just when I was about to poke my own eyes out with a stick, a package arrived at my door from my best friend in Texas, full of chocolate fudge Lava Cake from Red Envelope for my birthday, sent a week early so as to surprise me.

And now any doubts about the existence of a higher power have been eradicated.


Christopher said...

I agreed at the time and I doubly agree now that THURSDAY DAY SUCKED (except for that part with the package). Hugely, deeply, badly. I'm sorry you had to go through it. But being a fantastic mother, you *did* (with perhaps the slightest bit of chocohelp).

Shan said...

I am sparing my readers--and everyone else--the details of how Friday sucked even worse.

Nonna said...

Parenthood is definitely not for the faint of heart. Your mantra has to be my favorite: "This too shall pass!"