Monday, August 18, 2008
Whoa . . .
As I've talked about many, many times, Ava is not much of a sleeper. Since giving up her P-A-C-I-E (we dare not speak the word) "cold turkey" a few weeks ago she has slept even less than she used to.
Anywho, Joy was at class tonight so I was on (insert dramatic pause here) bedtime duty. I normally just do bath duty and split story duty but Joy does the heavy lifting of actually getting her to bed.
This is not machismo or misguided entitlement on my part. It is a necessity. Bedtime gives me FITS.
Why? I'm a SUCKER father. I have no pimphand. I'm soft. I'm easy. I'm a pushover. I'm weak. I'm wrapped tightly around a very small finger. Etc. Etc. Etc. ALL Ava has to do is look at me with those little eyes and beg to "wock" for a few more minutes in the oversized, purple rocking chair in her room or utter "bahhhk" (which is her way of asking for a longer back run once she is in bed) and I'm alllll over it. I know, I know . . .
So - about 90 minutes in to trying to get Ava to fall asleep (if only long enough for me to run out of the room) I had one of those "whoa" moments that made the whole evening seem easier . . .
I sat on the stepping stool that helps Ava in and out of her "big girl" bed and, in a moment of frustration, dropped my head down and SLAMMED my chin against my own knee.
Yes. I hit MY knee with MY head. I could get my chin to my knee.
Maybe you skinnier people don't see the importance . . . my body is small enough for my body to collapse enough that I finally have to fear a car crash. I might be worried on a roller coaster. I can stop myself from hyperventilating (sp?). I can actively participate in air raid drills should the cold war resume in earnest!
I'm getting skinny.
Anywho, I finally got Ava to sleep and watched part of this week's I Want to Work for Diddy (sadly, I STILL do want to work for Diddy) and felt I would share the good news with anyone that cares enough to read.