The biggest gift and curse of living in a hospital for the first month of Cydney’s life was that she was spoiled. We were all spoiled. Timile and I didn’t have to put her to bed at all. The problem is that all of the nurses had grown attached to her. I’m almost certain that this led to a pattern that to this day I can’t break: Cydney is beyond difficult to put to bed.
My bond with Cydney solidified while she was an infant. Because Timile would be out of it, I put her to bed every night. I would keep diapers opened and already greased up so that when she would wake up, I could just wipe and swipe pampers.
The second phase of Cydney’s difficulties with going to bed occurred when she was about two-to-three months old. She would only go to sleep if I walked around with her. There was no sitting down, putting her on my shoulder, and rocking her to sleep. This would only lead to my child crying in my ear. If she went to sleep, I still would have to hold her until she hit that REM phase; or I would have to start all over again and the cycle would last another hour and a half.
We had a small bedroom in the upstairs portion of a two-family house and the ceiling was truncated in half by the roof. So at 6’1″ and 230+lbs I literally had all of four feet to pace back and forth while ducking my head. I had to do all of this quietly because Cydney’s mother was asleep and her grandmother was deathly afraid of men. Eventually, I alleviated this situation by putting Cyd in one of those front-carrying papooses and would do bottles until she knocked out at 2:30am.
When Cydney was a toddler, she didn’t do naps. If she took one, it would last for about three hours and getting this to happen meant I had to walk her around in a stroller for anywhere between thirty minutes and an hour. Bedtime consisted of putting her in her crib and at 4 in the morning, she would wake up and call for me to put her in the bed with me.
At five years old, bedtime is when Cydney wants to tell me all about her day. Cydney talks all day; but somehow leaves out all of the important stories, anecdotes, and questions until 10pm when her father’s day begins between 4 and 4:45am. I must alwas sing a lullaby and tell a story. I am often fed up because after doing all of this and coming to an agreeance that she will shut up and go to sleep…she doesn’t.
With all of that said, I was so annoyed that one night I decided to tell her the story of the Three Little Pigs in a way that only I can. I figured I might as well be entertained by saying the most absurd things. She laughed the whole time. One night, I noticed that as I was telling this tale, my nephew was sitting outside of my door listening and laughing the whole time. So, I decided that I should dedicate one podcast to my narrative.
The players: Three pigs named Cedric, Fredric, Edric; Wolfman and a surprise cameo from a beloved marketing icon. Enjoy.