Ethical Dilemmas

I have developed the following proverb:

 "If you don't want your children to know that you do shitty things, then don't do shitty things."

Poetic, I know.

I frequently have to hold my tongue in regard to this proverb when it comes to my 3yo daughter's father, Andrew.  I try to shelter Meike from our drama as much as possible, I really do.  But he does some really shitty things and she sees it.  My father is positive that Meike will grow up to hate Andrew.  For Meike's sake, I really hope not.  I hope that Andrew realizes what he is doing before he does irreparable damage to his relationship with Meike.

I'm writing about this because there is a particular incidence of "shitty things" going on right now.  Andrew is flying with Meike up to NJ on Wednesday.  The trip is a gift from Andrew's mother and all of her gifts come with strings.  It's something I learned well during our brief relationship.  Andrew and his family are going to some sort of Rutgers' game (he's an alumnus) on Saturday, I believe.  Andrew offered to let my mother pick up Meike for the day, rather than get a babysitter.  My mother, and the rest of my family, were elated to have the opportunity to see Meike.  Andrew's family has a lot more money than mine and, consequently, they get to see Meike more frequently.

Then Andrew ran this scenario by his mother. Dun-dun-dun....  She was very upset and did not want Meike to spend time with her maternal relatives when she was paying for the trip.  Some "gift," eh?  And as Andrew put it, "She paid for the tickets, so..."  So...he'll do what she tells him to.  This is the third time that Andrew has interferred with Meike seeing my family.  I've tried to keep it from Meike, but what am I supposed to say to her?  She was looking forward to seeing my mother and other family members.  It was, to say the least, a moral dilemma. 

I decided not to take the fall for Andrew and his mother.  I decided to tell Meike the truth, in as brief terms as possible.  I explained to her that she was no longer going to get to see her Grammy Suzy (my mother) and I told her why, because she explicitly asked.  Meike was devastated.  The worst part is that she talked to Andrew about it and he told her that I was lying to her. 

I left it at that.  I am not going to have Meike going back and forth between us getting different stories and dealing with us each saying the other parent is not telling her the truth.  This puts me in a real ethical dilemma.  In the future, do I cover for Andrew to avoid him lying to Meike about the shitty things he does?  Do I tell her the truth and let him (and her) suffer the consequences.  I don't know.  I wish I didn't have to choose.

Rules of [Baby] Engagement

There are too many rules; baby rules, that is.  And the funny thing about them is that the babies don't even know they exist.  Who makes these rules?  The baby emperor?  We definitely need a baby ambassador or maybe just an interpreter.  I don't know what we need exactly, but someone needs to get these babies back in line (not that they were ever actually in said line).

Luke has absolutely no idea that any of the following Laws of Baby Care exist:

• Put babies to down in their cribs to sleep when they are still awake.  This way they learn how to put themselves to sleep and don't need you when they wake up at night.

           This is hilarious.  Either the person who made this rule never actually cared for any infants or I have a singularly rebellious baby. If he's in a good mood, Luke will lay and maybe watch his mobile for a while, talk to the blue elephant lying nearby (another rule breaker), or calmly try to stuff both of his hands into his mouth at the same time.  However, a majority of the time, when he is actually tired, it's not such a mellow scene. 

           I will place him down (on his back of course-that's another rule that I'll get to) and he'll coo and smile at me as I talk to him soothingly.  Then I'll take a step back and it will still be okay.  Then I will close the door behind me, and all hell breaks loose.  There's banging and screaming- not upset-baby continual crying, but raging screams that I'm sure would be interpreted as expletives if such an interpreter existed.  Even after I retrieve him from the crib of torture, he will occasionally lift his head from nursing at my breast and let out a short yell, just to let me know how mad he really is, and then go right back to his serene suckling.

• Babies cannot eat solid food until they are at least four months old (or six months old-this rule varies).

          Luke thinks this rule is for pussies.  At least he would if he knew the rule existed.  Since he has been able to track things that are about two feet from his face, Luke has watched us eat.  By "watched us eat," I mean he drooled, stopped all movement, and stared with wide eyes as the fork/spoon went from the plate/bowl to the mouth and back again.  There may have been some "Oo-ooo"-ing and arm-reaching involved.  

          Now, he actually jumps his whole body up and down while flailing his arms and legs anytime he realizes that there is food in his vicinity.  Despite everything I've read, I doubt that feeding him little bits here and there a few weeks early is going to traumatize his body (at least not a measurable amount, I hope). 

• Babies should always sleep on a flat surface with no blankets, toys, or signs of life present.

          If there is any sure-fire way to wake Luke up instantly, it is to put him down flat on his back.  He will wake up upon contact with any non-flesh surface and exact retribution.  I usually have to either lay him down on his side and finagle a rolled up blanket behind him so he doesn't roll back over (a 15-minute process) or nurse him to sleep in my bed and sneak out (also a 15 minute process) afterwards.  

          Either way, I am breaking multiple baby rules.  I have a lingering suspicion that Luke may have found out about this rule recently because he no longer sleeps any more than 15 minutes past being put down or snuck away from.

I keep reminding myself that I should savor these days because I will miss having a demanding little baby to cuddle with at some later point in my life when I will get to sleep without something attached to me again.  Oh wait, I mean...some day in the near future when I will have to suffer the tragedy of not waking with a sweaty baby head on my arm, pee on my bed or the side of my nightgown from a leaky diaper, or spit-up in my armpit.  Oops, I forgot again.

P.S.  I've officially given up on trying to blog on any sort of real schedule.  I'd just be setting myself up for failure.  I'm basically showering like once a week at this point; blogging is just not a priority.  I'll get to it when I can, which is not nearly as much as I'd like to.