Dadalogue on the Road: Day 5

Thankfully, this was an easy day.  The night, once again, not so much.

We all slept in (including Timothy!), had a leisurely morning at the hotel, and got on the road by 11. We were in Cincinnati before dinner. Originally we had planned to make it all the way from Nashville to Grandma's house outside of Cleveland, but after several long days in the car another 12 hours in the car would have made us go completely nuts.

So with the extra day, it's only a four-hour drive before my grandma will get to see her great grandkids. She hasn't seen Grace since she was 6 months old, and she's never met Timothy, so I'm looking forward to that.

So about last night. It must be hotel rooms and the fact we are all in the same space that has made Grace a terror at night recently. It's late. We all want to sleep. We start our quiet time night routine, and she decides to freak out. It's a good thing this hotel was practically deserted because if anyone else heard her crying and screaming it probably would've warranted a visit from the cops - or worse - child protective services.

However, the only crime committed was Daddy was reading and singing to her, not Mommy. All she wanted was Mommy. Until Mommy held her. Then all she wanted was Daddy. We couldn't win, but we did eventually get her somewhat consoled, so we put her in her pack and play.

Bad idea. The screaming came back with a vengeance. Since there really was no one else around we decided to let her cry it out. Another bad idea. She has more endurance than we do plus it woke Timothy up. Twenty minutes later, into our bed she came. Finally, completely exhausted, she passed out between us.

As parents, we've talked a lot about how we'd handle tantrums and fussiness. We wouldn't be like other parents and give in to our child's demands. No way our child was getting what she wanted acting like that. Talk is cheap though. We've never had those hypothetical discussions at 11 o'clock at night with a screaming child, and all we want is sleep. That child could have a flying pony if she asked for it.

Don't get me wrong. Neither of us want to tolerate bad behavior or encourage bad habits, but there is a certain amount of compromise you have to make in unusual situations - like 4 people and a dog in a tiny hotel room. Sure kid, if it'll make you happy, snuggle in bed with Mommy and Daddy.

Where this all gets difficult is in public. Like I said, we don't want to encourage or allow tantrums. And when our child acts out, we want to stop it. However, both of us are so nervous to do anything other than talk calmly to Grace in those situations. This doesn't work because reasoning with a two-year-old, for those of you without a two-year-old, is impossible.

I'm not saying we want to spank. I'm saying we want to use a voice above a conversational volume with words that show displeasure with the behavior. But where's the line? Where's the balance? You don't want to overdo it and draw attention to your parenting. Having to defend your own behavior as a parent is not something I want to do. There are a lot of overly sensitive people out there and I may cross a line in their mind before I ever get close to my own. It's a whole new layer to parenting that's been added in the last generation or so.

But, we'll figure it out. And I'm sure our kids will turn out just fine, even as proud owners of flying ponies.

Well, these "On the Road" posts were supposed to be a travel log of sorts, and it seems that I've gone and detoured way off the highway. I'll be back in a couple days with a wrap up of days 5 and 6.

Sleepless in Southern California

My wife and I are blessed, and we know it. We have two absolutely wonderful children that bring so much joy into our lives. They don't get sick too often, they don't cry too much, and they don't embarrass us in public. Yes, we have it pretty good. Until about 9:30 at night.

It's a recent phenomenon, but our four-month-old son will not sleep. He'll fall asleep on my wife, she'll put him in his crib, and 20 minutes later he's crying. She'll go back in to his room, rock him back to sleep, put him in his crib, and 20 minutes later he's crying. Repeat. All. Night. Long.

Occasionally, usually around 3 a.m., it's my turn to try, but I've had worse luck. He'll just cry on me. Apparently I'm not as comfortable as my wife. I also don't come bearing food, which may have a lot to do with it.

This is the point in this post were I need to thank my wife and shower her with diamonds, Oreo cookies, and pedicures. As you can see, she has taken most (99%) of this burden on herself. I have not asked her to, but she's the one that gets up with our son. Part of it may be because I could sleep through a freight train barreling through our house (side effect of sleeping next to a very active military flight line while deployed) and I just don't hear him. But the reason is more likely because my wife is a saint. She wants me to be able to go to work refreshed.

This sacrifice on her part wasn't too bad when Timothy would sleep for long stretches (we were close to all night a couple of times), but now it's taking a toll. Getting two hours of sleep a night is not good for anyone. We may have to go to bottles at night or something because I want my wife to be able to get the sleep she needs. I really feel bad, and I want to take on some of this burden.

I'll wrap this post up with a few theories as to why he doesn't sleep any more:

• A growth spurt
• He's afraid of the dark
• He wants to stay up for Letterman
• His stinky feet keep him awake (more on this in a future post)
• Separation anxiety
• Poor nursery feng shui is throwing him off
• Bad gas
• He's four months old

I'm open to any theories you all have. You can leave them in the comments below. And if you could say a prayer for my saint of a wife, I would appreciate that even more.