Tonight was an unusual night in the Casey-Culverhouse Household. It was not really that the whole night was unusual, but rather that it had an unusual few moments to it. It was one of those times that in any given household on any given day, in any given family across America that the same thing could have occured, but on this night it was in our house.
As a parent to an active toddler, one of the things that one quickly learns is that one's attention Must be prioritized. One learns how to 'scan' a situation and pay attention only to the most critical elements of the 10 odd simultaneous things that are going on at any particular moment. Seriously! I'm still really not so sure how an environment of Two Adults and One Three year old toddler can get so complicated and busy, but as sure as a toilet paper roll unwinds with the force of gravity under the influence of a gentle spin and sticky substances seem to rise up from a clean tile floor.....It Does Happen. Who's the orchestrator? I don't know. I watch that kid with the sly and cunning of a detective who doesn't sleep and I still don't know. Lo, and behold there are mysteries within my house just as there are those outside my front door in the wide world beyond. I'm just happy that the creator of these happenings has, unmistakably a great sense of humor. I just try to stay current with that Theme of Laughter and Conviviality and on those days where I lag I most certainly hear the laughter in the Interdimensional distance. "Yes, yes it's very funny", I think to myself and sometimes even say out loud not caring that there's no one there to whom I'm speaking. Beware, parenthood makes you cooky and I used to talk to myself ever so gently and only occassionally, mind you, before I had a kid. There are days now where I look at myself and say, "Oooo Dude.....You might ought to keep that in check"!? It get's freaky when I sometimes answer myself with, "Yeah, you know you're right"?
The Bedtime Process with a Three Year Old Child IS, on some nights just that---a P..R..O..C..E..S..S!! I mean, how difficult should it be to put these little people to bed??!? On some days it's a breeze and they go 'down' with no issue and on other nights it's as if it would make no difference if God, Himself came down and said, "Hey kid, Go To SLEEEEEP"!!! They'd still have an issue with it!! No, there's no formula as much as you think that there should be! I've researched it, and as a dutiful, committed parent I can tell you that it must depend upon forces that I am not familiar with because each and every night we go down the required checklist and do all the 'this'-es and 'that'-s and yet still there are those nights when things are just GOING TO BE what they are Going to Be. Period.
So we put her to bed at the usal time this evening and I could tell early on that she was just not ready for it. I guess she had some kind of special late-night dispensation that she had gotten permission for, but neither her mother or myself got the memo on this one. He mother had 'rocked her' (in the rocking chair) and read her a story or two, and I came in after with the light off (which is our usual routine) and rocked her further. Usually she starts to settle at this point--getting relaxed by the rocking and all----but tonight she was trying to get me to re-read one of her stories in the dark. I didn't fall for it, but she did give it the good ol' toddler try. We rocked a little more and then it was time for her to lay down. She was very compliant although still being a little jazzed. I left her door cracked as I left the room. Usually that's the end of the story, but not tonight.
After retiring to the living room to visit with Christina and our company that we had over for the evening, I could still hear Shayla entertaining herself in her room.
A little while later I heard Shayla crying a bit so I went in to see what it was about. "I really want an apple", she said. "Honey", I said. "You really need to learn to eat at dinner time when food is offered. You've brushed your teeth and now you're in bed. It's way beyond food time. You'll really be hungry for breakfast in the morning won't you? .....Hold on, I'll be right back". I went and got some tangerine slices and brought those to her. It was something that she could eat that would not require extra liquids. (Very important when you're trying to train a young bladder.) I then return to the living room and our company. Maybe that'll do it, I'm thinking? Maybe....
Nope. Not so as it turns out. Ten minutes or so later I hear from Shayla's bedroom, "I've got to go poooottttyyyyyy!! Mommy?!!....Daddy?!!...I've got to go poooottttyyyyyy"!!
Okay... I slowly get up off the couch, bones creaking. "Please, oh please let this be the end of it", I'm thinking. I go in to her room. "OK, then", I say to her. "Let's Go". I lift her out of bed and set her on the ground and her feet are already halfway to the bathroom. She hops up on the toilet and I see that it is fortuitous, as I look up, that she has remembered how to pull her pants down in preparation for this moment. Hallelujah! It's only now the remembering to wipe afterwards AND then to put our clothes back on that we're still further refining.
As we're (she, really) sitting on the potty Shayla has a moment of emotion come over her and she starts to cry, asking for mommy. She realizes that I am not all that enthused about this extended bedtime ritual this evening. She's asking for her half whimpering, half crying and I tell her, "Mommy is outside visiting with Rose. We'll see her in a moment. For now, just concentrate on going to the bathroom, okay? Please? I'll send Mommy in to your room when we're done here." At just this moment of sensitivity I hear a strange collage of sounds coming from the living room that reminds me of a jungle scuffle, as in the animal kind.
Shayla's crying just a bit and it's intermixed with the sounds of a dog and a cat's nails frantically trying to get traction on a tile floor... Hmmm....That's coming from the living room, I'm thinking. I hear Christina and our friend Rose talking, "Yes, I'm trying to get him out", one of them says! I hear: Scuffle! Scuffle! Nails Scraping Across the Tile Floor In A Frantic Attempt to Escape!! Then... Blam!! A Black Furball all Fluffed Out with Nails Protruding Slams Open the Bathroom Door Flying Through the Air and Lands in the Tub!!! "Hey, that's Muchkin, our cat", I'm observing! My daughter is still crying a little, even with the addition of this extraordinary event all of which will be explained to me shortly. First things first! We're still focused, or at least I am, on getting our potty time wrapped up here, so the wee one can get back to bed, before our nightime routine is given a shot of adrenaline and therefore somewhat irrevocably reversed for the time being. At this point Munchkin jumps from the tub, where she is Hiding to the back of the potty, all fluffed out and Very Bothered. Shayla is very taken with this and therefore begins her own train of questioning, "Why is Munchkin on the Potty?! Why does she look like That"!!? I Lie Through My Teeth, "I don't know Baby. Maybe it's her new look? What do you say? Shall we get you wiped up"? At this point, I push Munchkin back out the bathroom door and close it as I can hear in the distance that the, as yet unnamed offender, has gone.
As I stay focused on our bathroom objective, I get my daughter wiped up and cleaned up, hands washed, nightime clothes back on, and swiftly and sweetly chaperone her back to her bedroom and her waiting bed. I tuck her in, kiss her, and tell her that her Mommy will be in shortly to say her final goodnights. I gently pull the door to and quickly patter off to find out what the hell went on a few moments ago having successfully downplayed it in front of my daughter.
As it turns out a young Pit bull had escaped from his owner next door and sought to meet up with the closest four-legged creature --our cat. He had cunningly scampered inside our place when Christina and Rose came back inside from being out on the front porch for a bit. Luckily he was young and sweet and didn't mean any harm. Munchkin our cat however, didn't buy it for a second and reacted the way any cat does confronted with a foreign dog in the house, benign or otherwise. It all turned out fine in the end. They were able to get the dog out quickly and back to it's owner, and Muchkin settled in due time. It was all over and done with by the time I came out to see what was going on. There are these funny moments in Family Life where the flurries of disparate events intersect and settle seemingly right on the top of your head, sometimes for a moment, sometimes for longer. They usually have one thing in common: comedy. Family Life is filled with it.
As a parent to an active toddler, one of the things that one quickly learns is that one's attention Must be prioritized. One learns how to 'scan' a situation and pay attention only to the most critical elements of the 10 odd simultaneous things that are going on at any particular moment. Seriously! I'm still really not so sure how an environment of Two Adults and One Three year old toddler can get so complicated and busy, but as sure as a toilet paper roll unwinds with the force of gravity under the influence of a gentle spin and sticky substances seem to rise up from a clean tile floor.....It Does Happen. Who's the orchestrator? I don't know. I watch that kid with the sly and cunning of a detective who doesn't sleep and I still don't know. Lo, and behold there are mysteries within my house just as there are those outside my front door in the wide world beyond. I'm just happy that the creator of these happenings has, unmistakably a great sense of humor. I just try to stay current with that Theme of Laughter and Conviviality and on those days where I lag I most certainly hear the laughter in the Interdimensional distance. "Yes, yes it's very funny", I think to myself and sometimes even say out loud not caring that there's no one there to whom I'm speaking. Beware, parenthood makes you cooky and I used to talk to myself ever so gently and only occassionally, mind you, before I had a kid. There are days now where I look at myself and say, "Oooo Dude.....You might ought to keep that in check"!? It get's freaky when I sometimes answer myself with, "Yeah, you know you're right"?
The Bedtime Process with a Three Year Old Child IS, on some nights just that---a P..R..O..C..E..S..S!! I mean, how difficult should it be to put these little people to bed??!? On some days it's a breeze and they go 'down' with no issue and on other nights it's as if it would make no difference if God, Himself came down and said, "Hey kid, Go To SLEEEEEP"!!! They'd still have an issue with it!! No, there's no formula as much as you think that there should be! I've researched it, and as a dutiful, committed parent I can tell you that it must depend upon forces that I am not familiar with because each and every night we go down the required checklist and do all the 'this'-es and 'that'-s and yet still there are those nights when things are just GOING TO BE what they are Going to Be. Period.
So we put her to bed at the usal time this evening and I could tell early on that she was just not ready for it. I guess she had some kind of special late-night dispensation that she had gotten permission for, but neither her mother or myself got the memo on this one. He mother had 'rocked her' (in the rocking chair) and read her a story or two, and I came in after with the light off (which is our usual routine) and rocked her further. Usually she starts to settle at this point--getting relaxed by the rocking and all----but tonight she was trying to get me to re-read one of her stories in the dark. I didn't fall for it, but she did give it the good ol' toddler try. We rocked a little more and then it was time for her to lay down. She was very compliant although still being a little jazzed. I left her door cracked as I left the room. Usually that's the end of the story, but not tonight.
After retiring to the living room to visit with Christina and our company that we had over for the evening, I could still hear Shayla entertaining herself in her room.
A little while later I heard Shayla crying a bit so I went in to see what it was about. "I really want an apple", she said. "Honey", I said. "You really need to learn to eat at dinner time when food is offered. You've brushed your teeth and now you're in bed. It's way beyond food time. You'll really be hungry for breakfast in the morning won't you? .....Hold on, I'll be right back". I went and got some tangerine slices and brought those to her. It was something that she could eat that would not require extra liquids. (Very important when you're trying to train a young bladder.) I then return to the living room and our company. Maybe that'll do it, I'm thinking? Maybe....
Nope. Not so as it turns out. Ten minutes or so later I hear from Shayla's bedroom, "I've got to go poooottttyyyyyy!! Mommy?!!....Daddy?!!...I've got to go poooottttyyyyyy"!!
Okay... I slowly get up off the couch, bones creaking. "Please, oh please let this be the end of it", I'm thinking. I go in to her room. "OK, then", I say to her. "Let's Go". I lift her out of bed and set her on the ground and her feet are already halfway to the bathroom. She hops up on the toilet and I see that it is fortuitous, as I look up, that she has remembered how to pull her pants down in preparation for this moment. Hallelujah! It's only now the remembering to wipe afterwards AND then to put our clothes back on that we're still further refining.
As we're (she, really) sitting on the potty Shayla has a moment of emotion come over her and she starts to cry, asking for mommy. She realizes that I am not all that enthused about this extended bedtime ritual this evening. She's asking for her half whimpering, half crying and I tell her, "Mommy is outside visiting with Rose. We'll see her in a moment. For now, just concentrate on going to the bathroom, okay? Please? I'll send Mommy in to your room when we're done here." At just this moment of sensitivity I hear a strange collage of sounds coming from the living room that reminds me of a jungle scuffle, as in the animal kind.
Shayla's crying just a bit and it's intermixed with the sounds of a dog and a cat's nails frantically trying to get traction on a tile floor... Hmmm....That's coming from the living room, I'm thinking. I hear Christina and our friend Rose talking, "Yes, I'm trying to get him out", one of them says! I hear: Scuffle! Scuffle! Nails Scraping Across the Tile Floor In A Frantic Attempt to Escape!! Then... Blam!! A Black Furball all Fluffed Out with Nails Protruding Slams Open the Bathroom Door Flying Through the Air and Lands in the Tub!!! "Hey, that's Muchkin, our cat", I'm observing! My daughter is still crying a little, even with the addition of this extraordinary event all of which will be explained to me shortly. First things first! We're still focused, or at least I am, on getting our potty time wrapped up here, so the wee one can get back to bed, before our nightime routine is given a shot of adrenaline and therefore somewhat irrevocably reversed for the time being. At this point Munchkin jumps from the tub, where she is Hiding to the back of the potty, all fluffed out and Very Bothered. Shayla is very taken with this and therefore begins her own train of questioning, "Why is Munchkin on the Potty?! Why does she look like That"!!? I Lie Through My Teeth, "I don't know Baby. Maybe it's her new look? What do you say? Shall we get you wiped up"? At this point, I push Munchkin back out the bathroom door and close it as I can hear in the distance that the, as yet unnamed offender, has gone.
As I stay focused on our bathroom objective, I get my daughter wiped up and cleaned up, hands washed, nightime clothes back on, and swiftly and sweetly chaperone her back to her bedroom and her waiting bed. I tuck her in, kiss her, and tell her that her Mommy will be in shortly to say her final goodnights. I gently pull the door to and quickly patter off to find out what the hell went on a few moments ago having successfully downplayed it in front of my daughter.
As it turns out a young Pit bull had escaped from his owner next door and sought to meet up with the closest four-legged creature --our cat. He had cunningly scampered inside our place when Christina and Rose came back inside from being out on the front porch for a bit. Luckily he was young and sweet and didn't mean any harm. Munchkin our cat however, didn't buy it for a second and reacted the way any cat does confronted with a foreign dog in the house, benign or otherwise. It all turned out fine in the end. They were able to get the dog out quickly and back to it's owner, and Muchkin settled in due time. It was all over and done with by the time I came out to see what was going on. There are these funny moments in Family Life where the flurries of disparate events intersect and settle seemingly right on the top of your head, sometimes for a moment, sometimes for longer. They usually have one thing in common: comedy. Family Life is filled with it.
