Baby Manipulation

I will never forget the night Bryan and I realized our baby was manipulating us.

Last night, we put the little guy to bed with a fresh outfit, fresh diaper and swaddled him up. He was asleep and thirty minutes later, we hear fussing.

Bryan and I read the controversial book Bringing Up Bebe during pregnancy, and we agreed with most of what the book promoted: parents keeping their sexy relationship, babies/children eating what parents eat, and teaching patience at a young age. One important parenting move is "the pause" which is a time when you observe what your child is doing prior to reacting.

We hear the fussing and Bryan says to me, "Do you want to try the pause?"

I'm torn. While philosophically I believe in the pause, it's hard to let my baby cry. But he's not crying; he's fussing, so I agree. We wait about five minutes and the cries escalate.

"I gotta get him!"
"Are you sure?" Bryan asks. "It will probably take more than five minutes to teach him."
"I don't know. Do you think we should?"

"I don't care either way, babe. Whatever you think is best."

"I think it's best, but I don't feel it's best."
"Then go get him, babe."

So we go get him. As soon as I turn on the lamp, his fusses stop and he looks at me.

"He had real tears, Bryan!"
"That doesn't mean anything."
"Real tears!"
"But he's not wet, he's not hurt, he's not anything. He just wants to be held."

I pick him up. With eyes closed, Bradley smiles.

"He's manipulating you, Alyssa."

He stops smiling and opens one eye.

"Oh my gosh, he is!"

He smiles with eyes closed.

"He's fake sleeping, Alyssa. He's faking it. He just wants you to hold him."

And we stood there staring at our manipulative baby who was fake sleeping and totally pleased with himself in getting us to come pick him up.

I put him down and he started fussing again.

"He's manipulating you."
"I know, but he's crying!"

"It's manipulation!"

"Real tears, Bryan!"

And I picked him up again. Smiles.

"He is totally manipulating me!"

"I told you, babe."

So I finally rocked him to a deep sleep, laid him down and told him that was it, no more. And he didn't wake up again until the middle of the night.

But now I'm stuck. My baby is manipulating me. While I think it's the right thing to teach him NOT to manipulate me, I have a hard time just letting him cry (real tears). Here we face our first crossroads. And we better choose quickly.

conversation at my house

"You play so much Diablo."
"Only when you watch trashy reality tv."
"maybe we should name our baby B____ Diablo Buckley."
"No!"
"Why? Cuz it's nerdy?"
"Because it means devil."

My Dallas Weekend

This weekend has a long time comin'.

We drove right after work to Dallas, stopping at the Rib Crib for some delicious barbecue. We pulled up to our swanky hotel.

We went to bed feeling fancy in our room and ordered room service for breakfast. Well, not that fancy because we split one breakfast between us.

The next day, I had a knife skills class. Baller!

We had sushi for lunch. Don't murder me: I had shrimp tempura. And lots of edamame.

We shopped at a gigantic mall (four floors and an ice skating rink). Where I decided to chop off all my hair. So fun!

Then we went to our date night cooking class. And learned how to be fancy.

And not cook raw scallops. Even Gordon Ramsey would be impressed.

The next day, we woke up and went straight for IKEA, our favorite furniture store. We had fun playing house and thinking about redesigning kitchens and all the things we "need" but can't fit in our little car.

We hit the outlets, so we could shop for great deals on nice clothes. Bryan stocked up on professor shirts for the fall. I got Brooke some cute things from JCrew for her birthday. And of course, a few things for the baby. Most of the time, I was wishing I was back to my size 4 and could buy up everything. Le sigh.

The drive back was nice. We enjoyed talking about philosophy and recycling and prayer and the baby and the fall semester. I like road trips with Bryan. He really is an awesome companion.

We spent the remainder of the weekend sleeping for 11 hours at a time (we still got it!), chopping veggies with our new knives and new skills, napping, watching all the tv we missed, napping some more. And making some creme brulee.

We do our weekends right.

Monday Mind Dump

I had the most incredible weekend. One of the best in awhile!

Friday evening, our students performed the last comedy show of the year with a fabulous improv mainstage show where our graduating senior guessed all 5 crazy things with nearly two minutes left. They performed their first sketch show, and it went beautifully (minus the awkward part where someone forgot the last line, but they improvised and recovered so I could black them out). We were so proud.

Saturday, we slept in, threw some clothes in a suitcase and ran away to Tulsa for a staycation. We had a delicious lunch at PF Changs (finally using our gift cards from Christmas), peeked at the overpriced adorable things at Pottery Barn Kids and bought gifts for each other at Banana Republic. I had my massage with Elisa, and it was glorious! She remembered me based on "how hot your back is" - apparently, my circulation is very good and because of me and the baby, the blood in my back makes me very hot to touch. Cool?

We walked around the mall, picked up a cute cardigan on sale for the baby, split a pretzel and just held hands as we window shopped. We've been doing this together for six years now. Weird. Then, Bryan got to pick the movie we saw: The Hunger Games in imax. He's read the book; I haven't. It was a great movie, but I'm not sure I love the story (kids killing kids: awful!) or the guy named Gale (what a lame name - not much better than Peeta).

We did our traditional Melting Pot anniversary dinner and they sat us in a corner booth, tucked far away from everyone else and we were hidden. It was so romantic. And for the first time, I wasn't too stuffed by dessert. In fact, I ate some of Bryan's entree! I was so hungry. It was the perfect pregnant dinner. And we ended with chocolate all over rice krispies, strawberries, cheesecake and brownies. We left the restaurant around 11:30 and drove to the aLoft hotel (which we love since staying there 3 years ago in Durham). It was so romantic!

We woke, had breakfast at Panera and then drove home to reality. Where our baby stroller/carseat was waiting for us and our house that needed cleaning.

On Sunday, we spent the evening at a local camp celebrating our improv team's success with awards, food and games. I played volleyball and probably shouldn't have. Where I dove (I know, I know, Bryan wanted to kill me) really hurts and where I hit the ball on my forearms is swollen and painful to the touch. Whoops. I guess I need to start acting pregnant. They had elections, and we're very pleased with the new board.



Today, I felt my first Who-Stole-My-Brain-and-Emotions feeling. I was angry and upset and nauseous and on the verge of tears over a series of things that wouldn't normally upset me. I hated it, and the more I felt like I wasn't myself, the more upset it made me. By the time lunch came, Bryan picked me up and he knew something was wrong with his crazy wife. Instead of doing peanut butter sandwiches at home, he took me to a panini place in town. He likes to remind me that I need to take it easy and remember that I'm pregnant and stop trying to do everything I used to do. After a panini and more than half a slice of cheesecake, I felt a lot better.

This week should be a relaxing week. And next week is my Florida vacation/baby shower which I have highlighted and circled on my calendar at work. I am counting down the days!! Lord knows I need some time with my sisters, my moms and away from Oklahoma. Also, can we talk about the baby nonstop? Then maybe I wouldn't forget that I'm pregnant.

How I Like My Improv

Having been a student, performer, instructor and audience of improvisation for five years, I have developed a taste for a certain sort of improv.

FUNNY It may seem obvious, but it isn't. Every once in awhile I'll see an improv show that is serious just for the sake of being serious. Much in the same way some troupes will have an improv character fart, just for the "joke" of bodily function. I don't want to see your character have an abortion, get raped, die of cancer or have an abusive, drunkard boyfriend. That's real life, and that horrible shit happens to people. I want my improv to be an escape from reality, a blip of hilarity, poking fun at how we humans are.

VARIED I want my improv to be a collection of short and long scenes, big hearty laughs and tiny giggles, two person scenes and group scenes, game intense and character-based scenes, innocent and sexual, realistic and silly, twisting common ideas and pushing the line, lots of mime and talking heads. Give it to me: all you've got, every tool you have.

ENJOYABLE My favorite moment (when I'm watching improv) is to see a player have a hilarious scene or monologue staightfaced, and then, as the player walks to the side line, crack an amused smile. Not a laugh, but a smile. Something that tells me she's enjoying the comedy she's creating. Because then I just love the show even more.

Improvisation is good for you. It frees your mind. It lets you imagine and play. It demands quick thinking. It provides an outlet for fears, desires and your inner crazy. Plus, it's a great way to meet your husband and ensure a playful, hilarious life.