And it involves getting very comfortable with light yelling.
When we first had Baboo, Adam and I realized very quickly that we weren’t comfortable letting her cry it out. However, what we didn’t know was that there’s a wide gulf between “crying it out” and “vocalizing in a complainy manner.”
Before I was able to make that distinction, I essentially got nothing done while I was watching Baboo. None work and none cleaning and none cooking and none personal hygiene. I was a smelly, hungry, cranky mess and my house looked like a time capsule from the year six months ago.
I could picture a team of intrepid explorers jimmying the front door and standing in awe of the perfectly preserved tableau before them.
“What do you see?” one pith-helmeted digger would ask the other.
“Wonderful things!” the other would say. “… Actually, wait. It looks like a bunch of toys that no one has put away in a week and a laundry pile that’s grown into the furniture.”
I’m getting better, because I’m getting used to Baboo and learning her code. Sometimes, she wails and that means, “Pick me up right away. It’s a baby emergency!” Other times, she fusses a little and it means, “I would prefer to be cuddled right now, but I can actually wait.”
This morning, I made some chili in the Crock-Pot and she gritched from her chair the whole time.
“This baby is okay,” I told her, stirring the pan. “This baby is just fine.”
She gave me a dirty look, which is how I know she’s starting to understand me, too.
Jennie Smash 