Clara at 2 Years + One-Third

We hear so often the platitude that it is we, the parents, who benefit from the learning experiences in these relationships with our children. With that in mind, we will meditate on what our darling Clara has taught us in this, her 28th month...

Must we lead with stories of sleep?  Yes, we must. You see we jumped the gun last month. We doled out credit to Dr. Marc Weissbluth. He suggested that, when she runs out of the bedroom at night, we don't give any reaction. We simply pick her up and put her back in bed. Well it worked just long enough for the last monthly update to be posted. Then it crashed and burn. The lesson?

...Don't Expect Generic Advice To Work in Matters of Sleep...

Perhaps it worked for thousands of other children, but we followed it to the last letter to no avail. Clara was storming out of her room, tantruming like we've never seen, and taking hours (yes, hours!) to get to sleep. She was then waking up throughout the night all perturbed. The lesson?

...Things Can ALWAYS Get Worse...

This continued all month. We tried everything we could imagine. We sang extra songs, we played her doubly hard during the day, we tried taking out naps, we slept next to her on the floor. We even tried the "reset" button. Paul had some vague notion that maybe, just maybe, Clara would benefit from us taking the "negative charge" out of the going to sleep process. So, we let her stay up. Surely she would just crash at some point, right? 

For three straight nights, we bathed her and put her in pajamas, read her night time stories, but did not force the bedtime issue. We let her come out and sit with us while we read books, acting as absolutely boring as...well...as we are truly are in the evenings. And our Clara hung with us, hour by hour. Finally at 10.30, we had to go to bed. So we turned out our lights and hopped in the sack. Clara still wasn't ready to go.

And so, rather than take the negative charge out of it, we just ended up having the struggle much, much later in the evening than usual.

Which led to this lesson:

...When Sleep Is At Stake, the One Unthinkable Is Soon Rationalized...

We hinted at it last time. Locks. Neither Kate nor Paul wanted to be the first to broach the topic, but we were so worn down and out of options that we ultimately blurted it out simultaneously. What a cruel, cruel thing, right? 

Paul remembers a highly unpleasant man with whom he used to work telling him the story of spending the night on the floor in front of his two year old daughter's room, using his body to brace against her efforts to get out and run to her parent's room. What a terrible person, Paul thought righteously. How could you do that to your daughter? 

But rationalization sets in hard.

That weekend Paul took a trip to Ace Hardware. At Ace he picked up large rubber door stoppers. Perhaps these would wedge them closed, preventing Clara's escape. Plus, they aren't technically locks. No luck.

Next, he goes to Babies "R" Us and stands awestruck in front of an entire shelf of contraptions designed to do the exact sort of thing he needs. There's a market for this! he thinks. If others have to do it, too, perhaps we're not quite so bad. His conscience placated, brings a product home and installs one on each of Clara's bedroom doors.

That afternoon we show Clara the contraptions, emphasizing how "special" they are...suggesting that they "help" her stay in her room...and highlighting that they keep the door open at least four inches so she can always see out. We were spinning it like seasoned politicos, and Clara seemed to be taking the bait. She acted genuinely enthused!

Then comes the first night. It all goes well until we say good night and shut the door...

We'll let her work it out for a few minutes, Kate and Paul tell themselves. They sit on the sofa in the front room. It's only (ONLY?) 9 pm. They're not watching t.v.; they're not reading. They sit quietly, piercing the walls with that distinct thousand yard stare. 

We go in eventually. We soothe our daughter, and she accepts the calming. She lays back down as we leave, and we brace ourselves for another round or two. But there is none. She goes to sleep.

She is far less concerned with her door locks the next few nights. We're beginning to think we're on to something, but we're quick to remember this as the lesson from our June 2011 sleepless nights...

...Past Performance Does Not Guarantee Future Results...

We do take the door locks off once Clara is asleep. We're not ogres. 

Though we will add this point. A neighborhood friend was kind to us when we told her sheepishly what we had stooped to. She acted very non-judging and even said that she believed toddlers and teenagers are the same in this regard: they insist on having every choice to do things their way, but in reality they take deep comforts by the limitations we put on them.

Let's hope so. Otherwise, we've identified this as our next option:

We have hoped that we get some respite, maybe just a couple weeks to recover on sleep, before anything new starts up again. Alas, we may not get that chance. A few nights ago, Clara wakes up screaming. "The monkey is trying to bite me," she says. It seems we are entering that long, long phase where nightmares are a nightly possibility.

On to more pleasant things...

Clara takes a vitamin each morning after breakfast. She has been doing this since she turned two, and it is a highlight of her day. If we don't remember the routine, she catches us at some point and says, "Oh no! We almost forgot to take our vitamins!" 

Since taking them, she has become quite adept at opening any bottle top. Few can stop her from gaining entrance. She's like a bottle hacker. From this, we've learned the following parental lesson...

...Child Proof Bottle Caps Are Made For the Least Capable Adult, Not the More Capable Children...

Parenting our two year old forces us to use a skill set that was very familiar to Paul until about a year ago. If we want Clara to put her clothes on to go to the park, she is very resistant at the request. But if we say, Clara doesn't like the park and Clara probably doesn't want to put her clothes on by herself, she quickly changes course. Reverse psychology is the surest way to get her to do anything.

Also, if you seek the two year old's compliance, it's best that you think up some way to make it her idea. Clara has begun to resist the idea of taking baths, putting up a great fight if we even suggest it. But if talk about how hot it is outside and how much fun it is to cool down by getting wet and how many fun toys are in the tub, she'll offer that she wants to take a bath. That's her decision. 

What have we learned?

...Parenting a Toddler Is No Different Than Managing an Egotistical Boss...

As Clara has become more proficient with language, we've uncovered this compelling need she has to be bossy. In particular, she likes telling her father what to do. 

"Daddy, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" She says, almost always with seven no's. "You can't lean back on your chair. You get hurt."

Wear your seat belt, don't open the fridge door, careful cause the oven is hot, don't tickle Clara..."No, no, no, no, no, no, no...that not how you do it, Dada!"

Incidentally, it's mostly sound advice.

...Rules Work Both Ways & Little Miss Bossy Pants Is a Zealous Enforcer...

Whilst she is potty training (and doing quite well with it, by the way), Clara spends much of her time at home running around with an exposed tush. From time to time we do find a wet spot on the sofa or a more substantial gift plopped on the floor. At which time we remind ourselves...

...Potty Training Is a Process, Not an Event...

As mentioned previously, the city pools have opened for the summer, and we are making liberal use of the service. Clara started off the season with hesitation, but she has grown more and more bold in the water. We try to get her to the pool no later than 11 am, and keep her swimming hard until 1:30 or later. Why?

...2 1/2 Hours of Chlorine and UV Rays Guarantee a Good Afternoon Nap...

Finally, we are learning how different the pregnancy experience is with the second child as opposed to your first. We're hoping that the good parts of toddlerhood persist after the baby has arrived, and we're really hoping that some of the not-so-pleasant parts work through her system before things get too hectic. 

When Clara was approaching the half-way mark of pregnancy in September of 2008, note our absolute fixation on everything baby by looking at some old blog posts here.

We've not spent a fraction of that time even thinking about our green bean this past month. We're trying to make up for it, and it is getting a bit easier to pay attention as Kate's belly gets noticeably larger (Paul seems to require this very tangible signal that another child REALLY is coming). But out last lesson of this month has been...

...Subsequent Children Are Subject To Severe En Utero Neglect As Compared To Their Older Siblings...

Breakfast in Bed

The following are notes we jotted down on Saturday, April 21, 2011...


Kate has been recalling some key differences between the pregnancy with Clara and this one. Last time, she had the freedom to lounge in bed, sleeping through any bouts of morning sickness. She got up when she was ready, took a brisk walk, and was ready for work to begin around 10 or 11 am.

It's a bit different with a two year old. Attempts to sleep in are sharply capped at 6 am, and Kate faces immediate demands for her attention as soon as she is up. Could this explain the much bigger challenge with morning sickness this time around?

Clara is enjoying some residual benefit from the morning yacks. Mama gets OJ and some food in bed to help ward it off. Clara now expects the same. She is becoming far too comfortable with this concept of breakfast served in bed.

Ultrasound One & Shag Rug Sleep

The following are notes we jotted down on Saturday, April 20, 2011...

We dropped Clara off this morning and went in for a visit with the ultrasound technician. Kate had been on edge, much like the first pregnancy, anxious for this definitive proof. We both smiled with relief to see the lone pre-fetus whose heart is already pumping away at a healthy 143 bpm clip. 

Being acutely aware that Kate's family has a set of triplets, our true relief came from seeing just one embryo in the uterus.

It seems Clara is somewhat aware, but hesitant, of this baby in Mama's belly. We spent some time talking about it while making dinner tonight. Clara continues sticking out her own tummy and saying she has a baby in there, too. And while she and Kate were on the floor of the kitchen, she pulled up Mama's shirt, pointed to her belly button, and asked "Is that the baby?" She was sweet enough to give the baby some kisses while Dada snapped pictures.

Now we did have some proto-tantrums the next evening, which we suspect might be related to Clara's own mental processing of the baby concept. It culminated with the worst night time routine we've seen in weeks [Editor's Note: Little did we know this would continue unabated for two months!].  We attempted several times to put Clara to sleep the normal way. She resisted with multiple Houdini-like reappearances back in the kitchen asking for water, bunny, Mama's hand, Dada's hand, another song, two blankets, a tissue, and a diaper change. 

This persisted for an hour. Finally we laid out a choice for Clara. If you don't want to sleep in your bed you can sleep on the rug on your floor. 

For some reason this clicked. "Clara sleep on rug," she agreed and went willingly to her room. 1 minute. 5 minutes. 20 minutes pass. We go in to check on her. 

Our daughter has her face planted deep in the shag rug on her floor, her arms clutching her bunny lovies, her knees tucked underneath, and her rear end raised high in the air. 

It would seem comfort does not come from a soft, warm bed. Comfort comes from the control of making her own decisions.

Two Pink Lines

The following are notes we jotted down on Saturday, April 9, 2011...

Kate had a rare bout of insomnia last night, leaving for the guest room around 4 am in hopes of stealing a couple extra hours later in the morning. Paul woke up around 5.30, switched on the lamp, and dug into some reading. 

Our little cannonball burst into the room at 6.17. "I'm awake!" she exclaimed, both arms raised above her head for emphasis. Her eyes were squinting in the morning's first light and her bed head manifest in wiry off shoots extending every direction.

(Sleep to Clara is an interruption of the wonder of wake time. It is to be tolerated, at best, and minimized. In her two-years-one-month, this has been the one constant.) 

"Time for good morning hug!"

Paul tends to be an early riser, so our normal routine is Daddy and daughter making breakfast together and allowing Mama some well-deserved rest. This Saturday morning required a slight departure from ordinary as we were out of coffee, and Paul felt that today it was a "need" not a "want."

So Paul pulled a fleece over top of Clara's tulip-dotted pajamas and slipped Crocs over her footsies. We loaded up the car and headed down the street to Starbucks. Clara welcomed the change to our routine, embracing it as an adventure. This morning Paul ordered up his small cup of drip coffee (black) and Clara got a special glass of milk with a straw. We sat in plush chairs for the next 30 minutes watching this block of Peace Street Raleigh wake up around us.

When we got home, Kate was awake and happy to see her daughter (Paul had failed to leave a note or take his phone...oops). We were prepared for another adventure because yesterday we purchased a certain kind of test kit at Target. We had decided earlier this year that we wanted to expand our little branch of the Dryden family, and the monthly rhythms suggested we needed to check on the progress of our efforts.

Kate followed the kit's instructions and set the stick aside for the requisite three minutes. Never the most patient for surprises, she could not help but sneak an early peek. In a dimly lit bathroom, she felt disappointed to see only a single line. "Oh well," she said.

Paul checked back only a moment later, flipping on the light this time. There was an unmistakable thick pink line and a much fainter one developing next to it. But definitely two lines. We're pregnant!

We look at each other with wide eyes, betraying the commingled emotions of excitement, disbelief, and "oh boy."  The result of the test is the first, cold shoulder tap from reality and leaves your mind no choice but to throttle itself into the near future, visualizing what those two lines actually mean. 

"Do you want to be a big sister?" we ask Clara, who is now rolling around on her big girl bed, just enough aware of something going on to be guarded and suspicious. 

"Nope," she responds resolutely.

Kate says a few minutes later that she felt a slight pang of sorrow when she thought the test was negative. That, she said, confirms that she was even more excited than she had been aware at the prospect of another child.

The sensation is different this time versus nearly three years ago when Kate announced the first pregnancy late one night as Paul walked in the door from a business conference in Vegas.  Back then we were starry eyed innocents, not yet hazed in the rites of parenting. It was such an idyllic concept then, and we could hardly contain our excitement for the adventure to come. Any thought of the sleepless nights, of the pains of birth, of matching wits with a two-year old...those were all quickly overwhelmed by romantic notions of the uninitiated.

That's not to say we're so jaded now that we don't appreciate this. Far from it. The excitement over this child is real and growing in these hours since we found out. The pregnancy with Clara was among the richest experiences of our lives, and we're eager to share that anew with this child (and with Clara as part of the process). Yet we now know enough to visualize what lies ahead. No more blissful ignorance.

We have had a sense that we wanted our family to grow, that we wanted another child, and that we wanted Clara to have a sibling. Now that is evolving from a sense to a concrete reality, and we will be growing more accustomed to it as the days pass. 

There is a beauty that approaches sublime that two people are able to create a living child. We will spend these next several months preparing to meet this little one. Tracking the child's development in the womb. Learning his/her gender. Monitoring his/her health. Wondering about his/her personality. 

We are eager to meet you and show you how our family's love can extend to another child.

Swimming at the Ridge

The city pools opened shortly after Memorial Day, and we've been taking full advantage of the nap-inducing qualities of a good toddler swim between, say, 11.00 am and 1.30 pm.  

Clara took swimming lessons last year at this time, but it was as if she was getting back into the water for the first time. That's not all bad. We prefer she have a healthy respect/fear for pools. And as we've gone each week, her comfort level has improved with each trip.  In the video above, she's even trying out her swim strokes with only a noodle to support her.

There is always more to learn, and next week we go back to Phase II of toddler swimming lessons. The goal? Get Clara to put her head all the way under water. We even have some cute pink Speedo goggles to entice her.