Saturday, April 14, 2012

Mr. Rogers is NOT Our Neighbor.

Oh man. Am I in a state this morning or what? Luckily I have Smiley Cyrus (my nickname for Rebel when she smiles) laying next to me, to keep me from flying into a rage.

So if you don't already know, we moved into a new apartment. It is pretty much perfect. Or so I thought. 

I think I already mentioned how I was scolded by the mail lady for not checking my mail everyday. Apparently that is "what we do in this building". I was slightly peeved at her finger wagging, but last night my neighbor took it to a new level. Or rather, his bitch wife did. 

I didn't mention that a week or so ago, the neighbor came and knocked on our door, and asked us to be quiet or something to that effect. I honestly don't remember. Too many Clonapin or something. I didn't talk to him, Steven did. I didn't really think it was that big of a deal, and pretty much forgot about it until last night. 

It was around midnight and Steven was playing with Rebel on the bed. Yes, I said midnight. (we will get to that in a minute) He was attempting to distract, then remove this huge booger that was blocking her entire little nostril. I had tried like twice during the day, but I can't stand when she screams bloody murder, so I was saving it for Steven. He is the resident booger picker anyway. He normally can get them pretty quickly, but we both had tried several times and had to stop because she was screaming so loudly and throwing punches left and right. His distractions were failing, so we resorted to pinning her down. Still, she was too Ninja for us. Finally we gave up. The booger must remain. 

Shortly after admitting defeat, there is a knock at the door. We both look at each other. I don't know what Steven thought, but I was sure it was CPS, removing Rebel because of our aggressive booger picking tactics. 

"Should we answer the door?", Steven asks. "I don't fucking know. See who it is." Steven opens the front door and apparently it was our neighbor. The same neighbor who was sent over by his wife to complain previously. Steven said he looks like Willie Nelson or something, but is really nice. He said "I know you have a baby and all, but my wife…she can't sleep…and she made me come over here because the baby was screaming. Is there anything you can do to quiet her down? It is past midnight. Shouldn't she be asleep already?"

EXCUSE ME? 

Now, anyone that knows me, knows I play the defensive asshole, never the apologetic understanding type. That is why Steven answered the door in the first place. I don't know exactly what he said, but he was apologizing, saying we would try and keep her quiet, blah blah blah. Now, I would say she was screaming for a total of a minute and a half. Trust me, that is plenty, but still nothing to go knocking on your neighbor's door about. Whatever. They are old and annoying, and they can take it up with the landlord about his cheap-ass thin walls. Then, I totally lost my mind.

That guy just said "It is past midnight. Shouldn't she be asleep already?" Normally that wouldn't even cross my mind.  I don't know, should she? Is that some sort of rule? Did I miss the memo? Are we awful parents? Is his wife a child psychologist, who knows that having your infant up past midnight is damaging to their mental health? All these things started running through my mind. Then I started googling. OH MY GOD. 

After reading around 7,000 parenting websites, blogs, and governmental recommendations, I was totally freakin out. Everyone keeps talking about "schedules". Get your baby on a schedule. Schedule your baby's naps. Schedule your baby's feedings. Schedule your baby's shits. Get your baby a Blackberry and schedule their schedule's schedule. Whoopsies.

Rebel has no "schedule". She eats when she is hungry. She sleeps when she is tired. Craps when she wants. I guess you could say…she is allowed to be a person. I thought that was how it worked. She just turned four months old. She is a freakin baby. I had planned to give her a hot minute to be in this world before I gave her a datebook. I guess I was wrong. As I kept on reading, I was thinking, "We might have fucked up big time." 

One lady complained "My son is three and a half weeks old, and he isn't on a schedule yet. So frustrating. He wakes me up twice a night. What should I do?" For the first three and a half weeks of Rebel's life, I SLEPT twice a night. For about 30 minutes each time. Another said, "My daughter is 8 weeks old and sleeps through the night. Once we got her on a schedule, she just started sleeping through the night on her own." Whoa, now. It sounds like they're talking about magic, not schedules. The complaints and congrats go on and on. One lady talks about letting her 2 month old cry for an hour and a half, alone in his nursery, and somehow that got him on a schedule. Several said that getting them on a schedule is a "must". (side note: must is a weird word) 

Then is dawned on me. Schedules ARE important. FOR PARENTS. So parents can sleep, work, function, etc. I am fortunate enough to be able to stay at home with my baby. In order to do that, her father works late, most of the time not getting home until nine or ten at night. That is after working for 12 or so hours. So if I put her on a "schedule", she would be in bed every night when he got home, and he would never see her. And I would be bored out of my mind. Every apartment in this building would be Shabby Chic'd all to hell. 

I literally have nothing to do but cater to her needs. I don't do Pilates, I don't sew, or have a social life. I just hang out with her. Not because I have to, because I want to. If you think I'm all liberal, hippie mom, then so be it. We don't even have the crib set up. Never have. People seem to be horrified by this. YES, SHE SLEEPS WITH ME. There I said. We tried the bassinet, but she won't sleep in it. She sleeps on my chest, with her face an inch from mine, so that I can hear her breathe. No one can roll over her, and she can't smother. This works for us. Would I ever allow Steven to sleep with her like that? Absolutely not. He tosses and turns all night. I don't move an inch. And yes, she will probably still be between us when she is two. Get over it. 

In this house, we order take-out every night. We paint random walls and doors with chalkboard paint whenever we feel like it. We sleep when we are tired, and eat when we are hungry. We co-sleep. We use organic everything on our baby, but load our own bodies with chemicals everyday. Rebel has the big closet full of clothes. We have the small one. We forcefully remove boogers at midnight so our child can breathe. (Steven uses "the snot sucker" on her. If you don't know what that is, it is where you suck the snot of your kids nose with your mouth. There is this filter little thing, but I still have not been able to bring myself to do it. I don't even think Steven has a filter on there.) Nothing we do makes sense, yet it works for us. We know this because Smiley Cyrus is happy and healthy. So please, the next time you feel the need to come knocking on my door asking me why my child isn't asleep at midnight, you better think twice Willie Nelson. The third time around Steven won't be answering the door. 

**There is a happy ending to this story. About 5 minutes after Willie left, Steven had Rebel sitting on the bed, facing away from him, and she was looking at me make faces out her and giggling, and he ninja'd his way into her nose and picked the booger so fast she didn't have time to cry. She looked stunned for about 2 seconds, and then went back to being Smiley Cyrus. 



1 comment:

  1. Mommy websites are full up with the crazy. As far as I'm concerned, if you have a baby and manage to keep her alive and unharmed, you win. Even if you do order take out every night :o)

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