Update to the sleep post

Last night, Myowndaughter threw a huge fit, which spawned the Audrey Hepburn post, right at bedtime.

Then she slept all night, about 11 hours.

Yes … no … no … maybe … no

One of the most amazing things about being a father is watching my kid do what I tell her to do.
I’m not management material. People look at me and they know this. I don’t know how.
But with Myowndaughter, I can tell her to put her sweater on, and she’ll actually do it! I’m just astounded!
Another absolutely amazing thing about being a father — Myowndaughter completely ignores what I tell her to do. It’s as though I’m not even there. I have to look around sometimes, make sure I am there, make sure my voice is audible. I’ll say it again, “put the blocks back in the box,” and nothing. She doesn’t even crack a smile. If I could do that at work …. There’s a whole consulting career behind that behavior.
I think what’s really amazing about both of these things is that I often can’t predict which version of my child I’m going to get — the attentive, obedient one or the one who’s thinking, “excuse me, you’re breating my air.”

Street cred

The other day, I actually said, “don’t make me stop this car!”
Then I almost swallowed my tongue to keep from laughing.
I mean, I’d pull over, stop the car and then what?
Ever try to give a 2-year-old a timeout in a Passat?

Caaaaaaaaaauuuuhhhhttttt

Audrey Hepburn had this really great way of expressing frustration, exhaustion, anger and sadness all in one powerful syllable that just dared you not to pour sympathy at her feet. I get mixed up, but I think in “My Fair Lady” she delivered it after the big ball and she successfully fooled everyone into thinking she was Hungarian royalty, and then back at the house Higgins still treats her like a research rat, and she was all disappointed cause she thought he really cared and all that stuff. And then in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” when she’s been found out and, well, I forget the circumstances, but she doesn’t want to go home to Arkansas with Jed Clampett, and she turns to George Peppard (who just dump his sugarmama), and maybe that’s when she throws her cat out.
Anyway, it’s this “Ooooooooooooouuuuuuuhhhhhh,” and at the end there’s a little bit of sound that’s like an “r” combined with an “m,” that’s almost gutteral but is more from the gut, like she’s just pushed the last atom of oxygen out of her body and her tonsils are about to come out.
It’s very dramatic, and Myowndaughter has it down to a T! She can even do it back-to-back in one tantrum! And she hasn’t even seen those movies!
She’s chock full O’ talent, this kid.