There are lots of reasons I love my daughter. Now that she’s two, it’s mostly because I have to. But all kidding aside, there’s one reason that continues to be #1. She’s a great sleeper. Your kid might be the smartest, the cutest, or the funniest, but you have to admit that getting a good sleeper is first and foremost the best quality a kid can get. She sleeps ridiculous amounts. Until recently.
It all started a few weeks ago when she woke up at 6am screaming bloody murder. I ran into her room expecting to find a psycho clown under her crib or Casey Anthony hovering over her, but actually found something much more unexpected. Her finger was wrapped up in a knot of hair and was literally turning blue from a lack of circulation. I pried and pried, but the hair was too tight and ended up in a panic cutting it with scissors. I figured it was a freak occurrence, and that it’s only natural my unique child has some unique problems.
And then it happened again. And again. And again. Every night for a week. Of course I did what any mother would do. I turned to the internet, fully expecting WebMD to diagnose my child with cancer like they always do, but instead I found nothing on the subject. Okay, I dare you to find a problem your kid has that no other kid has. It’s impossible. And what’s even more unsettling? I called the doctor and she said she had never heard of this problem either. At least she assured me that my daughter would always wake up screaming in pain and wouldn’t lose a digit in the middle of the night. Thank God since it’s always her middle finger and I have so many things I want to teach her to do with it as you can imagine.
Realizing I was on my own with this problem, I decided to implement some of my own solutions. A ponytail was the easiest one, but it got yanked out and ended with a blue finger and screaming at 5 the next morning. The next night we celebrated hat night and all went to bed wearing hats. This was very fun and lasted about ten minutes. And lastly, I invaded my husband’s medicine cabinet and borrowed his LA Looks hair gel (apparently I married a 14-year-old boy from the 80’s). I gelled her hair with more hair gel than the Jersey Shore kids use in a week, and then twisted it into the tightest little bun you’ve ever seen.
The next morning I sat up and looked at the alarm clock. 7 AM! Either my daughter’s vocal cords finally broke (yippee!) or the bun worked (yippee!). Either way I had my favorite little sleeper back, and I too can sleep at night knowing one day all of my dreams for her middle finger will come true. As long as she doesn’t shoot it at me. Which she probably will. And then I’ll remind her about the time I saved her middle finger.