I forget things. A lot.

intention of writing Ben letters from time to time, with the hope that he would someday read them when he's older and be able to understand his mother for the person she was, both before he was born and when he was too young to form lasting memories. As we approach Ben's second birthday, I have written three of these letters. I keep forgetting he has an email address.

I keep forgetting a lot of things.

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The only comfort he finds is in the bottle

My kid has a problem. He can't give it up for anything. The only comfort he finds these days is at the bottom of a bottle. He won't take the damn Elmo doll, blanket, t-shirt, or pacifier. He can (and does) use straws and open cups with surprising ease. But oh, the bottle! His dear. His beloved. I, most embarrassingly, am his enabler. Poor Quinn, who only occasionally reminds me how much I'm not helping when I give in to a bottle tantrum, has more discipline in this area -- which admittedly kind of irks me.

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The sleep thing, part 1: bedtime

There’s no universal standard for sleep requirements. Science says, generally, that 8 hours (give or take, of course) is what you should shoot for. Science also says that we should sleep in split shifts, like our ancestors may or may not have. Science also also says that sleep is a construct and we're all of us always asleep because we're actually all plugged into simulations, kind of like in The Matrix.

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Go the F to sleep

I have my own opinions of sleep training (specifically that my kid is too stubborn and dramatic for it to work), but if it works for you and nobody has gone blind from the stress, well la dee dah.

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