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Eve Personal

Open Letter From A Bad Mother

Large Red-Faced Man
Newsagent Doorway
Tescos Shopping Centre
Ballybrack

Dear Sir:

I wish to apologise for delaying your entry to the aforementioned newsagent on the afternoon of February 22nd. I understand you were in a huge hurry to buy your copy of the Irish Times and the way I was blocking the doorway with my gaudily-coloured three-wheel buggy was obviously a source of great irritation to you.

If I might take a moment to explain myself as I didn’t get a chance at the time (you must not have heard my pitiful attempts as you were very busy glowering and tutting and never met my eye): You see the doorways of most Irish newsagents were built before the days of the modern buggy. I suppose back then (in your day if I might be so bold) young children were much better behaved and were trained to curl themselves into tighter spaces like miniature contortionists so as to avoid making a nuisance of themselves, but nowadays we have the new monster-truck varieties of pushchair, which we must buy to avoid becoming social pariahs while out and about with our young tearaways. These new-fangled contraptions, as you probably know them, are built for looks and status and not for maneuverability. So, it is no wonder really, and I only have myself to blame, that I found myself and my buggy wedged in the doorway and blocking your way.

To add insult to injury, as I stood trying in vain to jiggle and hoist my bright red pushchair from the vice-like jaws of the door, its young passenger woke up and began to screech in a very high-pitched tone that set the windows of the shop to trembling. I can only beg your forgiveness that I have not taught my offspring that making any kind of noise in public is downright rude for anyone under the age of twenty-one, and, if you awake to find yourself stuck in a door with a wild-eyed parent trying madly to shake you loose then the appropriate response is one of calm, restraint and a stiff upper lip, not panic.

And who was I to expect a helping hand? You are obviously a very busy man as you were in far too much of a hurry to find a pair of shoes and had raced from the house in your slippers. I noticed your car wasn’t in one of the standard parking spaces but instead was parked diagonally across two handicapped spaces. Please, don’t misunderstand, I’m not criticising; a man of your importance shouldn’t have to worry about the same rules and restrictions as the rest of us. Plus you were only going to be in the shop for a moment right? How dare I think that I might impose even further on your time and have you pull the door open…something I couldn’t do by myself and extract the buggy at the same time.

Thank goodness I managed to attract the attention of the shopkeeper who helped me out of my predicament so you could be about your business. I don’t resent at all the look of distaste you shot my way as you bustled past. The pile of newspapers had dwindled to the height of my knee, so your haste was understandable. I’m sure the people in the line at the checkout understood you pushing past and I must commend you on the accuracy of your aim when you threw your change over their heads at the shopkeeper. How thoughtful of you to have the correct change, you are an example to us all.

Sincerely,

Claire Wilson
Bad Mother

Categories
Eve Photography

Weeee

Weeeee

It was freezing this afternoon down in the People’s Park in Dun Laoghaire…but it’s never too cold for a go on the swings.

Categories
Eve

What A Difference Two Weeks Makes

supernanny

We just put Eve down for her afternoon nap. Yes, that’s right, we didn’t have to wait for her to collapse from exhaustion in front of The Wiggles as we used to do, we simply walked upstairs with her, placed her in her cot and she went to sleep all by herself. Not only does she perform this miracle during the day, she also does it at night!

You have to understand that I didn’t think this was ever going to happen. Even when we decided to try the Supernanny method it was with gritted teeth and a sense of fatalism. It may have worked for millions of other children but not Eve, no way was she going to go for such a simple idea. We thought that at the very least we were in for weeks, maybe months of crying and screaming and hours of sitting on her bedroom floor while she stretched her arms through the bars of her cot whimpering “Meeeeem!”

Turned out the whole process took a couple of days. The first night she cried for about 15 minutes when she was first put into her cot. Matt had to get up to her twice that night and the next. But by that time she was going to sleep with very little protestation. By the third night she didn’t even cry. When Matt stood quietly to leave the room she looked up as if to say “Oh, are you still here?” and then put her head back down. Since that night she has slept right the way through from 8:30pm to 8:30am and I have become reacquainted with normal sleep. The kind that lasts a whopping 8 hours or more. No more do I dread going to bed even though I’m exhausted to the bone because I know that in 2 or 3 hours I’ll be up again. Also no more late night feedings which means we are down to just two feeds a day and well on the way to Eve being weaned. I’ll actually have my body back!

One, two, three…what am I counting? Oh, just my chickens, but I don’t care…I’m going to enjoy this for as long as it lasts.

Categories
Eve

On Sleep Training

A few months ago I blogged that Eve had finally started sleeping through the night. Sadly this wasn’t to last and, although it is not as bad as it used to be, she still wakes me at least twice a night, often more, and yes, I am weak, I give in to the little despot and breastfeed her to sleep on each of these occasions. Oh the shame. It’s just that if I don’t feed her it becomes a pitched battle to get her to calm down and go back to sleep and her will at 3 in the morning is a hell of a lot stronger than mine. Especially since I haven’t felt rested since she was born and I crave my sleep like a heroin addict craves their fix….and the dog ate my homework Miss.

It’s not that I’m short on advice for methods to train her to sleep, oh no, I’ve read them all and the studies that debunk them. I’ve been preached at by those that tell me if I do anything other than wear Eve 25 hours a day, never taking my eyes from her and never allowing her to shed a single tear I am damaging her for life. I have also read those that say unless a child is regimented down to the number of minutes taken to consume each meal followed by bowel movement and then to bed they will become a demon child that overruns the house and is destined for a life of crime and delinquency.

Well, this week we’ve been having a new kitchen put into our tiny house and so we have been staying at my parent’s house. Eve hasn’t taken the change of scenary very well so she has been waking me every couple of hours and has fought me tooth and nail in my efforts to get her to go back to sleep. I’m operating on a cocktail of sugar and caffeine and so once this kitchen is in and we’re back on home turf there’s going to be some changes happening around here. For one thing the milk machine is going to be unavailable between bedtime and morning (soon to be shut down for good), bedtime will be set and not just whenever she stops in mid play, twitches and collapses in a snoring heap on the living room floor, and now Daddy will be taking part in the proceedings too so it’s two against one.

We have decided to employ the Supernanny technique because it seems to be a good middle ground method and I can see us both being able to handle it. It involves:

  • 1. Setting up a consistent routine…bath, pjs, story, bed.
  • 2. Once she’s in bed Mum or Dad sits on the floor by the cot and bows their head so she can see us but we make no eye contact.
  • 3. Stay like this until she finally gives up and goes to sleep.
  • 4. Repeat each night gradually moving further from the cot and finally out the door.
  • Boy, she’s going to be soooo pissed.

    Categories
    Eve

    Eve’s First Drawing

    Eve's Drawing

    Ta Daaaa! Yes, this wonderful piece was produced by my 14-month-old daughter Eve who has finally worked out that when a pencil is applied to paper (with her left hand I noticed…just like her Da) and dragged from side to side, a pleasing mess can be made.

    Of course, this is not just a bunch of scribbles, if you look closer I believe you’ll see she was trying to capture the upriver migration of the adult pacific salmon.

    Salmon