Yes, she sleeps now with her blanket pulled over her head. I think she does it just to freak us out. It is quite effective.
Tim and I were working on this:
Sigh.
I don't know whether to be proud or sad about our little project there.
It's a piece of paper with an entire week from 5am to 11 pm, Monday - Sunday mapped out. Protected time. Non-negotiable time. It's a color-coded map to those things that are our highest priorities: work, study, exercise, family, date-night, Ada - all carefully blocked off. This is what happens when, after a year of trying every other method that has worked in the past, I still can't say that I feel even a little bit balanced.
Some women make it all look so easy. If it really is happening for them seamlessly well then God love 'em - you know how much I love things to happen organically. Maybe that's why I feel reserved about our little rainbow colored blocks on paper: it's so forced. In my experience, whenever I force something to happen outside of it's natural time I precipitate a crisis. And another thing: it's too neat. Life isn't neat.
Yes, there may be times when real life conflicts with the orange block of time. So be it. When Ada grows into a new stage this plan will begin to feel like a pair of ill-fitting shoes. So it is. Today, we have to try though. If we carry on with this "let the chips fall where they may" approach, which isn't working, then a crisis is going to occur anyway.
I feel obligated to clarify something: this isn't her fault.
I read an article recently: LINK
I think a lot of things about this article - some I agree with and some I don't. I'm sure my thoughts will percolate into other posts. I haven't been in the parenting game all that long so I'm prepared to eat my words but this sentiment that children don't make you happy because they suck the life out of you? I find it offensive because it's just so...disproportionately dramatic. Yes, I'm tired. No, I don't get to do whatever I want, whenever I want.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
I'll pick up all 26 pounds of her over and over again, ignoring the irksome protests of my lower back, because I simply can't get enough of her. And it it means the pedicure has to wait or that I leave H & M before I'm really done shopping because she's fussy then that's just the way it is. And while the moment-to-moment may not always be thrilling, the ride as a complete entity is out-of-this world. This is one ride I never want to get off of because it makes me feel alive (I keep accidentally typing "alove" - I think there is meaning in there).
And that's all I have to say about that. For now, anyways.
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