Tag Archives: sleeping

The Freaking Binky Fairy

Avent pacifiers, two viewsSomeone suggested I tell Emile about the Binky Fairy as a way to get rid of the pacifiers he uses. So I started to weave this mythology to my 3-year-old, and of course he’s been asking questions. I usually plot out my stories and check that there are no gaps in logic etc., beforehand, not on the fly. Where does he take the binkies? (To BinkyLand) Why does he take them? (Because he thinks you don’t need it anymore.) What does he do with them? (He gives them to other children who are smaller and still need binkies.)

In reality, there’s a huge tear in Emile’s last binky standing, so Susanne and I are concerned about it choking him. (We are great parents, really.) I can’t give it to him, and Emile, with a full child’s complement of teeth now, burns through them in a couple of weeks. So I’d like this to be the last one! He doesn’t ask about them as much, and says he’s ready to not have them around anymore (except of course, when he’s TOTALLY NOT READY, DADDY).

Today I was putting him down for a nap when he asked for it. The ruined pacifier is on the kitchen island, about to head into the garbage bin. I said, “I don’t know where it is, maybe the Binky Fairy came already.”

“When did he come?”

“I don’t know.”

“I want to know. Is my binky gone? It helps me sleep, Daddy.”

*cue Bad Daddy music*

“I think it’s gone. I’ll talk to the Binky Fairy.”

At this news, Emile sits bolt upright in his toddler bed.

“You’ll talk to him? He’s here?”

“No…I mean, I’ll call him. On the telephone.”

“What’s his name?”

“Binky Fairy.” My lord with the questions!

“What’s his real name, Dad?”

I panicked. I wasn’t ready for another lie/layer to the story. I blanked. I said the first name that came to mind that wasn’t Emile or Lucas.

“Schmendrick.”

OMG, EVERETT, SCHMENDRICK? WHAT THE HELL KIND OF WRITER ARE YOU? SCHMENDRICK?

“I knew it,” said Emile, putting his head back on his pillow.

And that, people, is how I proclaimed that the Binky Fairy is really the hapless magician from The Last Unicorn.

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Somnambulism Seems Easier

Emile sitting in a pumpkin patchMy weekday schedule is something of a failed attempt at ye olde work/home life balance:

7AM — wake, shower, dress

7:30AM—head to office (stopping at post office M&Th)

7:45AM–10AM—work

10:20AM–1PM—childcare for Emile/work out/run errands/housekeeping

1PM–3:30PM—work

3:45PM–4:50PM—write (a.k.a. suck down a latte and try to think)

4:55PM—pick up Susanne

5PM—home/make supper/childcare for Emile/pick up 17,238 small toys/crash on couch to a stupid show like House Hunters

If it’s swim class night, spend one full hour packing a diaper bag, wrestling Emile into a swim diaper, heading to gym pool, splashing for 30 minutes with Emile, wrestling Emile out of a wet bathing suit, driving home, getting Emile to bed. If it’s not swim class night, trying to make and eat dinner and clean up while Emile plays, gets a bath, and asks to read 3,844 different books that you’ve already read more than 98,000 times so far (plus or minus 100). Read More…

Our Nefarious Sleep Routine

My brother-in-law owns an extremely expensive camera with some sort of whatsafiggy that lets him take time-lapse video. He’s also a fan of nature, so he plans to trek up to Alaska and do some time-lapse filming on the side of a glacier wall. I’m sure the final film will be visually fascinating and pensive. He’ll probably win an award.

But I think it would be much more amusing to set the camera up in our house and film how many times Susanne and I get up out of bed though the course of the night to deal with one baby issue or another.

Yes, I wait for the Wee One’s cues: yawning, a hand reaching up to slowly rub an eye, that stern expression that tells me he’s starting to fight his tiredness. Finally, after roughly five months, he is getting closer to a schedule. I do have quiet concerns that we’ll never really be on an actual schedule, kind of like those graphs in calculus where one is only ever approaching but never reaching infinity. Read More…

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