Episode 54: All progress is lost

Probably the biggest challenge of being a parent over the last year (aside from writing this blog after my kid has ripped out half of the keys on the lap top and made the other half sticky) has been getting Av in to some sort of routine- that is getting her to sleep/ eat the way that she should and learn to be a little less clingy all of the time. Getting her to sleep through the night was a massive challenge, and didn't happen until just a few months ago. The same goes for getting her to nap without a ride in the car and convincing her that it was ok for me to feed/ take care of her even when Monica was home.

Unfortunately, it seems that all of our hard work has vanished just in the last few weeks. I think we are screwed. I can trace the problem back to the exact time and date that we started going backwards. It was her birthday party in mid-February. Everything was great, she was entering her second year and seemed to be pretty well adjusted to life. She ate, slept and pooped at the same time every day and almost never woke up in the middle of the night any more. Then we had her party.

A combination of too much excitement and too many little kids contaminating her toys teamed up to attack the little guy's immune system, causing a nasty cold and fever to overtake her. For a solid week she was miserable, coughing up phlegm and whimpering non stop. She was attached to Monica like a Koala. Since that time she has made a full recovery, seen a doctor and been given a clean bill of health. Still, she is treating life like she is still sick.

Almost every night now she is waking up around 2-3 a.m., just crying, often times for no reason. Other times you go in the room to find a massive dump in her diaper, because nothing ruins a good night sleep like crapping out your insides (or cleaning up after someone who has just crapped out her insides). Dinner time, which was always a challenge, has become even more difficult, depending on how picky she feels like being, and naps, which we we just starting to get a handle on, now once again require two trips around Salem Willows.

*As a side note, I cannot believe how many creeps hang around the Willows eary in the morning. For those of you that don't know, the Willows is an ocean side public park on the outskirts of Salem, just past the power plant. Along with the usual gazebo and picnic tables there is a sketchy arcade, a Chinese restaurant and a hot dog/ ice cream stand. I like to make the drive because it is a nice, big, scenic, and best of all tiring circle. In any event, every morning I drive past a row of creepy, usually old men sitting in their cars just looking. Some read the paper. Some smoke cigarettes. None of them, it appears, have anything better to do. All I can nthink about when I drive by is the plot to some bad 80's kidnapper/ cop drama. Like one of those dudes has body parts in his trunk and it is up to that guy from Mannequin to solve the case.

As much as I love packing up a whiny kid at 8:45 in the morning and visiting these creeps, I would really like to get to the point where I can just give her some warm milk, put on her ocean noises box (or as we call it, the Miami Sound Machine) and put her down for a few hours. Instead, I am left to carry a 22 pound kid in a five pound car seat that she is too big for up a fight of stairs and in to the house, all the time hoping that the family downstairs doesn't let their dog out, or slam the back door or feel the need to listen to Radiohead very, very loudly.

As if the eating, sleeping, pooping problems weren't enough, Av has also decided that she can no longer watch her morning video by herself. It used to be that she would sit in her little chair and watch the video, not making a peep. I used to use this time to empty the litter box, take out the trash, get some laundry started, shower etc... Now, I spend it on the couch with a palm full of Cheerios learning the names of the neighborhood animals, or worse, learning how to sign 'couch' from Marlee Matlin. AGAIN. I guess I don't care so much about the chores, and the man who used to shower three times a day because he is paranoid about smelling is all but dead, but my tolerance for Baby Einstein is almost gone.

I really have no idea how to solve any of these problems. We let her cry it out a lot of the time, especially at night, but there is only so much of that one person can listen to. My only hope is that she will figure out how to talk soon so that she can at least communicate her issues and maybe understand where I am coming from. I suppose this is why people always talk about how hard parenting is.