I have two nephews - one is three and the other just turned one. The three year is super easy. he's at that age that is really fun to shop for and he finally "gets" Christmas this year. I want to keep my gift giving about equal, but it's hard when his brother is only two years older and he has 3290457 hand me down toys and right now his favorite thing is eating his own foot. so I need help spoiling him and figuring out what to get him.
Hi Jaclyn, I'm hoping you can point me in the right direction. In early Dec. I will interview for a position I have been pining over. While I feel prepared mentally, style wise I could use some guidance. Having just relocated from GA to way Upstate NY, where the snow that hangs around until April has already begun to fall, I am at a total loss. I want to dress professionally and warmly, while still retaining youth and style in my look. What do I wear? The right shoe is especially troubling me.
Hi Jaclyn- I just moved from Florida to Seattle and my wardrobe needs a cold weather overhaul. I am looking for a Cowl-neck sweater that is long enough to wear with leggings but it has been surprisingly hard to find. I am willing to invest if it is perfect. I prefer thicker material (warm, cozy and definitely not sheer) and bonus points for cable knit. Can you help me find something? Thank you!
Until last night, things were going well. She was waking up earlier than usual over Thanksgiving break, but she was also going to bed 1-2 hours later than her normal bedtime. For some reason (A REASON I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND), kids apparently wake up earlier the later they go to sleep. (This is stupid, by the way.)
Last night I decided to move her bedtime back half an hour to get her back on her normal schedule. She has had a bit of a cough and has been fussier than usual the past week, but she was fine last night. There were no signs of what was to come. None whatsoever.
First let me note that we had affixed a child safety doorknob thingy on Isobel’s door because she has become extremely adept at turning doorknobs and finally realized how to open one last week. (OH, so the hand turns and the body must move back to allow room for the door to swing? GOT IT.) So, the child safety knob went on.
So, with child safety knob on the door, I laid her down in bed, opened the door, walked out, closed it and waited. I didn’t hear anything so I went down the stairs. Within seconds, there was primal, angry screaming. There was rage. There was kicking. There was banging on the door and frantic twisting at the child safety lock.
All of a sudden, Brandon and I hear the door open.
She stood at the gate of the top of the stairs and yelled.
We ran up. She had SMASHED the child safety knob right off the door. Okay. That’s just a fluke right?
I put the knob back on, led her firmly back into her room, said “It’s time to go to sleep” on the way and set her back in bed. Props to her—when I said it, she picked up a discarded paci and blankie on the way.
Back in bed, she howled and immediately tried to follow me back out. I scrambled for the door.
Commence RAGE FEST.
A few minutes later things quieted down (phew), but then the door swung creepily open and she started yelling at the top of the stairs once again.
She smashed the damn thing off the door again! Some child safety mechanism, you fucking losers. A+ workmanship. I guess you forgot the Toddler Rage Test, AMIRITE?
Anyway, at this point, we were very distraught (all three of us—well all five, the cat and dog were extremely stressed too), and so Brandon grabbed a screwdriver and turned the doorknobs around so we could lock the door from the outside. As he did this, Isobel The Emotional Manipulator sat quietly in my arms (something she hardly ever does now) and laid her head on my shoulder. I was trying to be strong Weissbluth-style but I did give one very soft kiss to the top of her head, because come on. I was feeling like the World’s Biggest Shit.
Doorknob reinstalled, I turned out the light, closed the door and re-sang her the lullaby. She was very sleepy. Rage takes a lot out of a person. I laid her back in bed, turned on ladybug and beat it for the door. I locked it. I heard maybe 5 seconds of protest crying then things were quiet.
At about 11:30, I heard her coughing and could tell she was still in bed by where the sound was coming from. This is very important once you read the below.
7:15 rolled around and she was still asleep. (Little fart didn’t sleep past 6:45 ONCE while I was on vacation.) I opened the door to her room to wake her up and kind of gasped—she wasn’t in bed! Panic! Then the door hit something. I looked down and she was sprawled on her stomach, right beside the door, completely knocked out. She was clutching her blanket and her Elmo. Out like a light. I squatted down and rubbed her back and said, “Good morning honey,” and she looked up at me with hair askew, eyes confused, totally disoriented. She drunkenly got to her feet and plowed her way into me for a hug. Then she looked over my shoulder and said, “Butterflies!” to the big insects we put up on the wall above her bed and she smiled at me and I didn’t feel like a Giant Piece of Shit.
But I did feel like a small one. A Baby Shit, maybe.