It's Not Easy Being Green

Before Rain, I was doing pretty well on the Green front: we bought a fuel-efficient car; we maintained the car to minimize wasted fuel; we replaced our light bulbs with energy-efficient ones; we recycled paper & plastic (we didn't have convenient pick-up service in our apartment, mind you); we reused old items in new ways; we purchased eco-friendly cleaning supplies; and so on and so forth.

After Rain's birth, I realized that saving the planet and saving my sanity were dueling efforts. It began with diapers. As much as I adored the idea of using cloth diapers, actually implementing that process was a no-go from the moment I saw what baby poo looked like. Add to the fact that I had no diaper-changing skills to flaunt, and you can understand how I ended up using, I don't know, 100 wipes at every changing.

Next to go was water. Forget about using cold-water detergent anymore, I was in my kitchen running water just to make Rain calm down. She loved the sound of rushing water, and if that meant my whole apartment went afloat just so she could settle down, oh well. After 3 weeks of newborn cries, I would've offered to sacrifice calfs for peace. And I don't even like veal.

If she wanted a bath with lots of water to play with, I was happy to oblige. That meant I could sit next to the tub--actually sit--and she could relax for half an hour.

My next war crime against Earth was electricity. Crying Baby wants a nightlight? You got it. Fan to give you white noise? You got it. Battery-dependent toys? You got it. Now you want to turn the light on and off and on and off? Have fun, sweetie!

Whatever it took to keep Rain from crying was priority number one. We were warming ONE towel in the dryer just to keep her warm and toasty when she got out of a bath.
Why all the fuss? Because Rain was fussy. She cried at every displeasure, and it didn't take but a few weeks of sleepless nights before we thought, "To heck with the planet, I need my mind!" It's hard for childless or parents of easy-going babies to understand, but believe me when I tell you, consistent newborn tears are always followed by consistent new parent tears.

On the 27th, Rain was 18 months old. For months now, her independence has cut down on her cries and neediness. She doesn't need toasty towels and white noise anymore.

Slowly, things are changing. We painted Rain's room with non-toxic, earth-friendly paints, and the recycle bins have reappeared. The energy-efficient laundry detergent graces the shelves once more, and Tim is replacing the light bulbs in our new house with the green kind. So, we're finally going green again.

Except for that diaper thing. Huggies, please.

Regression, Progression

So, I was sick for 10 days. After that, I went to 2 funerals, and tah-dah, here I am. I know, now you're worried my bad karma is going to get all over you if you keep reading this blog, huh? No worries. I strive for a 100 % karma-free environment in all my blogs; just ask OSHA. Anywhose, the last few weeks have brought a lot of changes, and I wonder where to begin? With Rain? Yes, I think so.

Rain has regressed a bit in the sleep department. About half an hour ago, she fell asleep. She's absolutely beautiful when she sleeps. Her lower lip pouts out, and she looks like a living doll. The fact that she's quiet doesn't hurt, either. When she goes to bed at night, she cuddles her huge stuffed lamb. She buries her face in him, and they snuggle fifty different ways before Rain chooses the best position for optimum comfort. The other night, we got home late, and Rain was angry because Tim wouldn't let her "drive" the car (she likes to sit in the driver's seat, put the key in the ignition, and play the radio). So, Tim had to drag her into the house raving mad. I put her in bed, and she kicked Lamb out. She looked at me all huffy, and really gave Lamb one in the face. I rolled my eyes and waited. As expected, Rain curled up and fell asleep in her blankets within five minutes. By the next night, her and Lamb had made up.

So, overall, I can't complain about the sleep situation. The problem we're having is during daytime naps. When Rain & I got sick a few weeks ago, she started a very bad habit. A lot of kids have a "lovey"; you know, something they cuddle with during naps. Well, for whatever reason, Rain is trying to make her former nursing ground her new lovey. One night as she was coughing and hacking away, she shoved her hand down my shirt, and within a minute, fell asleep. I sort of laughed at the time, thinking it was a one-time event. The problem is, she continued to do it the entire time she was ill and afterwards. I have to pry her off me every day, and it seems like a losing battle.

Don't get me wrong: Rain is not nursing anymore. She has gone over 2.5 months without a feeding. In fact, she was excellent about giving up her life-long routine, and for months, she didn't show any signs of regression. But, she still wants to find comfort there, and I think her illness sort of triggered that neediness.

Not sure how to proceed.

Anyway, Rain has not totally reverted back to babyhood, though. She's painting with watercolors (yep, with a tried-and-true set that comes in a case with a brush; very old school), eating quite well with a fork (ok, so sometimes she has to put penne pasta on the fork with her hand and then eat it), pulling dining room chairs into position for an escape route (she uses our chairs to reach the deadbolt lock on our back door), climbing like a madwoman (she has no issues zipping to the top of our 8-ft ladder), delicately balancing her play blocks (14 stacked on her play table the other day!), and overall trying to ham it up for us.

A few days ago, I pulled out this toy that she used to be terrified of. It's a car that makes all kinds of noise once you shake it up and let it ride across the floor. Well, the more we play with it, the less she seems to be afraid. Still, she gets jittery when I pull it out and sometimes makes a face. So how funny was it when I pulled it out the other day that she tried to use it to scare me? She would run up to me, lay it at my feet, and run off laughing like, "This is gonna be great! Wait 'til you see what it does--you're gonna freak out!" She'd run 1o ft away, hide behind our coffee table, and watch for my big reaction. Of course, she doesn't understand that you have to shake the toy to activate it. So I'm sitting there like, "OK." I shook the toy, released it, and Rain laughed like, "Aren't you freaked out??" Then she'd grab the toy, run up to me, drop it at my feet, and run off again.

We did this eight times.

She laughed just as hard the eighth time as she did the first.

It's progress. Really.

Rain's First Halloween Costume

For Halloween, my monkey was a monkey (Curious George, to be exact).

May 27, 2025

Like rain in nature, Rain is both wonderful and terrible in turns. Most of the time she is a comedy gold mine and all about the hugs and kisses. Other times, she gets very, very angry. When she screams, she uses all the power in her lungs. Her body stiffens, her face turns red, she pushes out her lower jaw, and she clenches her fists. During those times, Tim & I comfort ourselves, "Seventeen more years. May 27, 2025, we'll be home free. Just gotta hang tough."

The last night we were in Florida, May 27, 2025, seemed farther away than usual. That night, Tim & I had packed, showered, confirmed our flight schedule, and were ready to go. We figured we'd watch a bit of TV, head to bed, and get up at 4:45 A.M. for our 7:55 A.M. departure. We said goodnight to Grandpa, and relaxed in the guest bedroom.

Now, Grandma/Grandpa live in a gated community of condos. At night, besides the gentle breeze in the palm trees, there is no noise. So, it wasn't long before Tim, Rain, & I fell asleep. I was happy, because we were having a great trip, Rain had behaved marvelously, and we were on our way home.

At 2:00 A.M., things went to pot.

Rain woke up crying. When she does this in the middle of the night at home, we usually cuddle her and that's that. For whatever reason, this was not happening in Florida. Rain quickly went hysterical, and nothing would soothe her. At first we were like, "Aw, sweetie, don't cry! Mommy & Daddy are here; it's gonna be OK ..." When she turned from crying to howling, we said, "That's enough, honey, settle down, please," as we rocked her and walked her around the room. When the howls morphed into outright screams, we freaked.

Grandma goes to bed at 7:00 P.M., and Grandpa falls asleep on a recliner not long after. These good people are not accustomed to hysterical toddlers. WE aren't even used to it, and we've been at it for seventeen months! I was in full panic, but the more we tried to calm Rain down, the more force she put behind her screams. Remember swaying palm trees outside? All I could think was that in very short order the neighbors were going to chop one of them down to use as a battering ram while the rest of the mob waved pink and teal pitchforks (Floridians love color).

We've got to go!" I said, and Tim nodded. We rushed outside (I didn't even bother with shoes) while Rain hollered the whole way. We didn't stay long in front of Grandpa's condo, because the acoustics of the entryway only magnified the screams. We went out the sidewalk. Still too loud. We went past the row of car ports. No good. Tim ended up taking Rain down the street by a pond where only the ducks could bemoan Rain's cries.

I came back inside, exhausted. Istared at the clock, sighed, and packed the only unfinished bag. It was an hour and a half before we had to head to the airport. I finally dozed off.

Tim eventually left the pond (once the ducks began brandishing torches), and by the time he returned to bed, Rain was fast asleep on his shoulder. Grandpa got up a few hours later to make sure we were up, too. Apparently, he hadn't heard anything. We left a few minutes later, with Rain asleep and Grandpa's perfect image of Rain still intact.

Once we pulled out of the parking lot, Rain woke up. She realized she had been moved into her car seat in the middle of the night and was furious. She started to cry, and did so the whole way to the airport.

May 27, 2025 ... is that a Friday? Never too early to plan a celebration ...

Trippin'

Last week, Tim, Rain, & I went to Florida so Rain could meet her great grandparents. Tim took the entire week off, but we chose to go to FL for only three days. The truth is, Rain is almost a year and a half, so I had to ask myself, "How long can two decent elderly folk deal with a teething toddler?" I know Rain's great grandparents probably wished we had stayed a bit longer, but I had no idea how Rain would behave. It was just too risky. Would she cry over seeing strangers? Would she scream on the plane? Would she tear Grandma & Grandpa's condo apart?

Prior to our departure, the endless opportunities for certain disaster occupied my thoughts. Mixed with other issues on my mind, it was too much. One morning I woke up and informed Tim my right eye was hurting. For no reason at all, the muscles around my eye felt strained and bruised. I would love to tell you that later I found out my eye ache was medical (pinkeye, anyone?), but when my eye later healed after one trip to a Florida beach, well, I knew the injury had been stress-related.

At the time, all I could imagine were the many ways Rain would lose control. Then her great grandparents would see what a terrible job we were doing raising her, and the jig would be up. I felt in my bones they would ask us to leave early or perhaps stay in a hotel, and oh the shame!

Even after Rain behaved well on the plane ride to Florida, my hopes were still modest. The flight was an early one, so Rain was only half-awake for it, anyway. Later at lunch, she showed her great grandma how well she could use a fork and how she was certainly not a picky eater, but I still wouldn't allow myself to believe things might work out. When presents and treats piled around Rain, did she throw them against the wall or horde them? Nope. She showed interest in each and played quietly. Her manners were spot on, and she didn't hide from the new faces at all.
She was good, really good. The one time she had a meltdown, she had it when only the three of us were together at a zoo, so who cares? By the time we packed for our trip home), I thought, "I can't believe we made it--an entire trip without incident!"

Then three hours before our departure ...

The Cow

A few weeks ago, Tim went to Wisconsin for a week of training. My instructions to him were simple: don't come back without cheese.

With Wisconsin's reputation for tasty cheese, I don't think I asked for too much. Either come back with cheese, or don't come back at all, right?

Tim is wonderful in many ways, specifically, he is generous, helpful, humble, kind, supportive, patient (boy, is he patient), and very, very smart--he's fabulous, and anybody who knows him would agree, I think. But one thing Tim is not is a realistic shopper.

Especially when we are on vacation, he always thinks there's time later to pick up gifts or souvenirs. At the last minute, he will try to buy whatever the airport shops are selling. This often leads to, um, less than desirable gifts.

Although I only do it in front of Tim, I do an impersonation of Tim's brain. Really. I do this sort of calm, low voice (a mix of Homer & Forrest Gump) that imitates what I believe is Tim's thought process when he makes poor decisions. This may sound mean, but I promise you, Tim laughs whenever I do it and says, "That's exactly what I was thinking!" Unfortunately, you can't hear audio on this, but imagine for a moment as we step into Tim's mind moments before boarding the plane home from Wisconsin:

Got my photo mag, got my computer mag, got my boarding pass. Ready to go ... Wait ... Wait a minute ... Didn't that woman say something to me about cheese? Aw, man, I ain't got no cheese! She's gonna be so mad. She's gonna be so maaad--wait! There's a shop right there! They gotta have cheese. [Desperately searches 2-3 shops for cheese samples]. Man. No cheese. OK, but I can't go back with nothin'. Chocolate! I'm bringing home chocolate. Everybody likes chocolate. Is Wisconsin known for chocolate? Hope so. Cheese & chocolate both start with C. What if she hates it? I gotta bring something else along. Oh, here it is. This will work. It's kind of cute. Yep, this will do.

Tim brought home a cow magnet that said "Wisconsin" on it. A cow magnet. Rain promptly ripped the magnet off it, tore off the bell around it's neck, and tossed the cow away.

She beat Mommy to the punch.

North Korea

At night, it is easier to sneak out of North Korea than Rain's room. For the first year of her life, she slept in the same room with us, and she has no intention of changing that. Let's not forget that Rain, who had no teeth four months ago, now has SEVEN (with several more pushing through her inflamed gums). She is teething and irritated. So, putting her to bed is a two-step affair.

First, we have to get her in her crib. This is an entirely different process for me than it is for Tim. Tim will cuddle Rain for a few minutes, put her in her crib, and walk out of the room. If Rain cries, tough cookies, because he's not coming back for her. Rain knows this, so she usually cries for less than 1 minute, resigns herself to her fate, and falls asleep. This is why Tim puts Rain to bed 90% of the time.

On the few nights where I have to put Rain to bed, it is pathetic. I don't have the heart to hear her cry, so I usually lay her in her crib and (*blush*) sit next to it while she falls asleep. Even if Rain's eyes are closed for a full minute, if I attempt to leave the room, she knows. At the slightest sound of my departure, her eyelids snap open, and her pupils beam on my coordinates. Tim has oiled the hinges on her bedroom door, but that is of limited help. Most nights, I don't make it to the door before she's on to me. Tim thinks I'm ridiculous to let her be so needy with me. He's totally right, so I've tried to be more like him when it comes to Rain's bedtime. Rain is furious when I do that, and she cries a lot longer after I've put her in her room than when Tim does it.

The second phase happens around 3 or 4 AM. Every night at this time, Rain cries to come to bed with us. Before, we caved pretty easily about this because who wants to deal with that drama at that hour, ya know? But for a week or so, Tim and I tried to commit to putting her back into her crib at night. We kind of had a routine going, but then Rain got sick. Last week, she had a stomach virus sort of thing and cried a lot at night. So, back we were to our old routine.

Since Rain has seemed to be a lot better for the last day or so, I thought it was time to get her back to staying in the crib all night. Welp, I was a bit surprised than to find Tim fiddling with Rain's crib today. Apparently, he felt she was too big for her crib (Rain's is a convertible one), so he converted it to a toddler bed. Basically, he removed one side of her regular crib and put in a low bed rail. The bed rail is only high enough to keep Rain from falling out of bed, but it only fits half of the bed so that Rain can get in and out easily.

Hmm, I thought, surveying the situation. Doesn't that mean Rain will be able to leave the bed herself at night? Sure enough, at 3 AM this morning, I woke up to Rain's crying. I automatically went to her room. The door was shut, and in a bit of humor, Rain was knocking on her door for me to let her out. I opened the door, and like a true soldier, tried to put her back to bed. She was fine about it--as long as I didn't try to leave. After another North Korea escape ten minutes later, I was back in bed trying to get some sleep. I had left Rain's door open this time, figuring she probably wouldn't be up until 7 AM, her usual breakfast time.

Five minutes later, we both wake up to Rain's crying. This time, however, she sounds much nearer than before. Tim got up, and a minute later, returned with a sad package. He had found Rain inching her way down the hall while holding ... her oversized stuffed lamb that she sleeps with every night since she was born. The two had tried to make it to our bedroom while Rain wailed the whole way.

It was too much for us.

Rain is asleep with Tim right now, and as for me? I'm heading to the couch, where all bad defectors go.