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Thanks Daddy - September 17, 2003

Sara woke up screaming about 10pm last night. Marie was in bed and I (as usual) was goofing off on the computer. Marie called down to ask me to take care of the situation. I ran upstairs, electrified the lamp, and found the girl wailing away standing at the rails of her crib. A quick check found no boogie man in the closet, no monsters under the bed, no missing limbs or sharp objects protruding from her body. Her "Clifford the Big Red Dog" PJ's (in honor of John Ritter's passing - he did the voice in case you didn't know) were still on properly, and her diaper was dry, empty and apparently intact. Only the shrill squeal and the resultant blood from my eardrums indicated that anything was amiss.

I picked her up and held her - the screaming continued. I walked over to the CD player and began to turn that on and the screaming intensified. I grabbed the water cup in her crib and she smacked it from my hands to the ground as she seemed to say "C'mon Daddy - figure it out". I was beginning to feel that maybe it was me - she wanted to Mommy. After all, Daddy is the toy, Mommy is the caregiver. But Daddy CAN be a caregiver, and I will solve the crisis. "I am Man, hear me ROAR (and puurrrrrr when required)."

I opened the blinds to look outside, and the screaming stopped. This has been in my bag of tricks since Garrett was born - take screaming child and distract with interesting subject. After a while we sat in the rocking chair and she leaned back to see the lamp upside-down. Soon she was relaxing with her head on my shoulder. I changed her position to a better sleep inducing one across my lap. She began to relax, and soon sleep. I reveled in my success. But I was soon tormented by my utter lack of planning.

In our house it has become an art to extract a sleeping child from the warmth of your arms, to the cool crib below without waking said infant. Once there, it takes the grace and skill of the Karate Kid move*, and the stealth of a Navy Seal team flying an F-117 to silently lift the crib rails to their upright and locked position. After that comes the challenge of circum-navigating the ever-changing squeeky spots in floor, and proper usage of a sagging door, again without waking a child who seemingly wakes at the sound of a fly farting.

While planning my extraction I saw that my routine would be more difficult than usual. You see, in my haste to rescue the child from her fright, I hadn't lowered the crib rails. I realized that my delicate ballet would require an opening act. I would either have to lower the rail with no-hands while not waking a nearly sleeping child (impossible), or put her back in the crib with the rails up - a descent sure to wake and cause a rerun of the screaming.

I got up from the chair (her eyes opening as she sensed the impending aspect change), and descended her into the crib, lowering the rail in singular display of parental grace. She started to build a head of steam like a locomotive readying for a steep ascent. But in that instant, I sat down in the chair next to the crib and began to rock slowly. She began to calm down, realizing that I was not going to abandon her in a time of apparent need.

For the next several minutes, she struggled to find that perfect sleeping position, at times emitting one of those frustrated moan's or sighs that we all do when sleep does not come easily. Twice in her agitations, she put enough weight on the "Pooh Sings" book cover in her bed (the book has long since been ripped from it's mate) that it broke out in song: "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes". In the silence of the room it seemed as if Metallica was there live, belting out children's classics in their heavy metal style. But she did not seem phased by the sonic intrusion, as if it happened all the time while she slept. I found it ironic that a single squeak from a floor joist while attempting to leave the room will often wake her up, but "Pooh" songs inches from her ear cause no problem.

I sat in the chair for some time, closing my eyes enjoying the stillness of the night, dreaming of extra sleep for myself, and trying to encourage Mr. Sandman to the room. Every once in a while I would turn my head to find a pair of beautiful blue eyes staring back at me. She would then break into a toothy grin as if to say "Thanks Daddy, I feel safe now". I suppose this is how Daddies get wrapped tightly around their little girl's fingers.

After about 20 minutes she was asleep, and with my best Karate Kid pose, I lifted the crib rail back into safe position, closed the blinds and exited the room with superior stealth. She slept the rest of the night.

* Karate Kid Move so-called because of the crib rail release mechanism accessible by foot. When lifting the rail silently, one must simultaneously lift the rail, and use one foot to open the release mechanism

#  | 12:07 PM |  Comments Closed (0)  |  (Tags: Kids)