Why Moms need Dads

Let's face it, Moms do ninety percent of the work when it comes to raising the kids. They feed them, clothe them, and direct the dads who help them. But there are some things dads are good for, like putting together toys, assembling cribs, and do those few tasks moms cannot -will not- do.

Last Wednesday Shelly informed me that she believed it was time to break Kate of her binki addiction. Then she left for San Diego for a week.

A little concerned but determined, that night I stoll the binki away from Kate as I put her down. She momentarily whimpered but fell asleep without too much of a fuss and without a binki. Smiling to myself, I thought this binki thing was going to be easy . . .how Kate would have me eating my words by the end of the week.

The next night started the saga. This time, without her binki, Kate screamed and flailed incessantly as I tried to put her down. Determined to be the strict parent, I left her in her crib to cry it out and went down stairs. As I sat in the family room reading the paper and listening to Kate scream, it became quiet. Naively thinking Kate a sleep, I retreated to the den to read the paper. Having dozed on the couch, I heard scampering and something flashed out of the corner of my eye. I suddenly was having flashbacks of Aliens. Then I heard Kate giggle as she ran from around the corner . All I could think was "WTF? Kate, how did you get out of your crib?" But obviously in her frustration with not having a binki, Kate figured out how to climb out of her crib. I spent the rest of the night sleeping in the chair in Kate's room.

The next day was just as rough. Nap time was non-existent. When bedtime came, I sat with Kate until I thought she was asleep, but as soon as I walked out of the room, Kate was out of her crib. This continued as many times as I tried. I would sit with Kate, she would fake being asleep, and as soon as I walked out of the room, she would immediately vault out of the crib. I called Shelly in desperation. I wanted to pay Kate her ransom -the binki- in hopes she would stay in the crib, but Shelly chided me not to give in (honestly all I could think was that it was easy advise for Shelly to give advice from San Diego). She then suggested the pack-n-play. Brilliant! At 9pm at night and Kate watching me intently, I dug the pack-n-play out of the basement and set it up. This time, I thought I had found success. After placing her in the pack-n-play, and walking out, I heard kate briefly attempt to get out, give up, and fall asleep. And with that, I went to bed satisfied Shelly found a solution until she got home. At 5am that morning I realized I was sorely mistaken. Asleep, I felt a child climb into bed with me. I realized the daughter in my bed was Kate when she began jumping on my head (Madison loves to cuddle). I almost cried. That whole morning I moped around in a depressed, insomnia induced state.

Around lunch time, realizing there was no way Kate was going to nap, I began looking for crib tents. A crib tent is a mesh dome that attaches to the crib, effectively caging your child inside her crib. (Of course, the manufacturer sells it as a product to prevent pets from climbing in the crib, but we know its real intentions. Besides, what cat in its right mind would willing climb into a crib with a 20 month old.) The problem is that no one sells crib tents, not Walmart, Target, and I even called Babies R' Us. The closest place I could find that sells crib tents was in Spring Hill, VA -west of Alexandria. I did not plan on spending my Saturday driving two hours to buy a caging device for my daughter, but the thought of one more sleepless night, solidified the change of plans. So I piled the kids in the car, put a dvd in for them to veg out on, and drove to Virginia.

The girls and I actually had a nice outing. After buying the crib tent, we stopped in Alexandria for dinner, before returning home. By the time we got home, Madison was more than happy to go to bed, but Kate just sat watching me assemble the crib tent. Thirty minutes later I had it installed and ready for action. I read Kate her books, rocked her until she faked being asleep, placed her in her crib, zipped up the tent, and walked out of the room. I then stood outside Kate's door and listened. With a drink in my hand, I listened to Kate giggle, stand up, and try to climb out of her crib. Sipping my drink, I smiled to myself as Kate began shaking the crib screaming, what I imagined to be, "Nooooooo!" I won! After three days, I finally found something that would contain my daughter.

The next morning, when I retrieved her from her crib, I asked how she slept. Her only response was to point to the crib tent and say, "I don't like it." I simply smiled and replied, "I know."