Bedtime for Iolani

First - getting it out of the way. This book - I want.

Let me do a dramatic (traumatic maybe) interpretation of our bedtime "process".  In no way should anyone interpret this as me being upset, angry, or feeling empty/depress - because this is my life and I'm enjoying.  I'm lucky, I'm blessed, I'm crazy.

It all begins at 6 p.m. when I leave work. I head out of the office, get to the car, and drive home.  This is the last time I will be all by myself in any shape, way, or form until the next day when I drop Iolani off at day care. Mondays, I get time to talk to my aging father.  I'm turning 35, my dad is getting old.  Actually, he's constantly between surgeries right now - and I think he's just excited to talk to someone who isn't there to borrow a tool, ask him to cook, or fix a car.

I get home and I'm lucky to get my shoes off before I have a child on my leg.  I have only one - so it must be Iolani.  Da Hubbie is either sprawled on the couch - on the verge of being absolutely overwhelmed with the amount of energy Iolani brings home from daycare.  Sometimes I wonder - what does she do all day?  I mean really...how can she possibly be playing ALL DAY LONG and come home ready to swing from the rafters?  Hmmm...how long IS that nap time?

I drop my work bag somewhere in the corner.  Iolani is either asking for Nemo candy, my computer, my phone, money, Starbucks, crackers, milk, juice, world peace, whereabouts of Hoffa's grave, her bear, stickers, mail, valet guy, Ben, Pastor Sandie, or some other random bit of something that she saw for 2 seconds three weeks ago.

Tired yet?  If so - suck it...it's only 6:35 and you haven't even started making dinner yet.

Dinner...whatever...I make something. Veggies, a meat, a carb.  Iolani eats only the carb. Alex asks me about the calorie count for the individual serving I prepared, and I'm still thinking about the fact that I didn't get to finish that first cup of coffee this morning.  But, I'm starting to think about the bathtub...

As Iolani fidgets at the table, I start to mention that if she's done with her dinner it's time for tub.  Magically - she's back in her seat and food is again entering into her mouth. "Still eating mommy"

15 minutes later, she's away from the table.  I mention the tub...Wizz...back at the table "Still eating mommy"

After three or four times of this - I start the tub. I'm done eating and I'm ready for the next step of the evening.  Tub.

Once the tub is filled, it is all about chasing our daughter around the house, snagging pieces of clothing as we can.  Once she's running around the house squealing...with no clothes - I start in on the "Get in the tub" line.  I try it a couple of times and I throw up my hands and announce "Mommy's tub"

I never get tub any more.  I get showers. I used to get tub time.  I used to fill the tub up with a bathbomb and shut the door and clean my toes.  Now...happy to say...I remembered deodorant today, and I brushed my teeth.

With one declaration of "Mommy's tub" the girl's in the tub.  She's playing and she likes to tell me - "Mommy go away...go check email".  With the reluctant sigh, I grab my phone and sit on the closed toilet and watch Iolani spill water all over the bathroom floor.  Soon, after a huge display of emotion - I wash her hair.

Then she says - "Set the timer, two minutes"  That our two minute warning that tub time is almost over. Next stop hair and teeth brushing. After a little battle with the tooth brush, girlie's got clean teeth and tangle free hair.

Then...off to bed - er - Off to the bedroom.  This is where the battle begins.  Step one: Enter Pajamas.  If she's in a good mood, you can distract her through conversation and get her into a night set.  If she's in a bad mood - it can range from giving her space to an all out wrestle match to get the PJs on.  Recently we've given up on the complete set of night clothes and Missy goes "drawers" free.  Whatever - I need sleep.

Time to wrestle with dad.  Iolani will climb all over Alex, declaring him a horse or jungle gym.  I don't know how he does it. Iolani jumps on me one time and I'm at a loss.  I'm older.

Once I've grown tired of their horseplay, or I'm bored with Facebook - I'll go in and relieve Alex of night duties.  I'll encourage Iolani to give one last hug, kiss, and "I love you" before tagging Alex out.

We'll read a couple of books. No more than Olivia's the goal.  But, I'm a sucker for the "read X book Mommy" - so after 10 books I announce "Mommy's got to go to bed".

"I'm thirsty - can I have milk?"
"My teeth hurt - can I have Tylenol?"
"There's monsters in my room?"
"Can I have a cracker?"
"There's someone at the door, can I go answer it?"
"Can Mo (the bear) have a kiss?"
"I forgot something in the house?"
"Mommy, can I have ice cream?"
"I forgot something at school?"
"Mommy, I'm still hungry?"
"I forgot something in New Orleans?"
"I'm still dirty, I need to get back in the tub?"
"I forgot something..."

And - In my head, I'm thinking to myself - "Oh my God Iolani, please please please for the love of God and all the goodness in the earth, please get in your fucking bed and go the fuck to sleep"

I'd never say that to her.  I'm pretty sure I've said that to someone on the phone sometime in my life. I mean, I do have a bit of a mouth on me.

I give my last kiss, hug, proclamation that she's my favorite daughter, ask her if she loves me, and close the door.  I sit down on the couch, and within 30 minutes to an hour - I'm out, or I'm worthless to talk to.  And, with Alex being the night owl that he is - this is usually the time he wants to talk about whatever - money, things to do on the weekend, a marriage proposal, a reminder to get the car washed...all I'm thinking is...do I have to brush my teeth before I go to bed, or can I just rinse with mouthwash and call it a day.

So, for those prospective parents or parents with children who don't talk yet...enjoy it now.  Once your child starts talking brush up on those ball-busting negotiation skills.  You might have only one kid...however - I am absolutely convinced that Iolani spends her entire day at daycare staring out the window thinking of the witty comebacks as to why she shouldn't have to go to bed tonight.

The 405 Widget.

Get your own.

Why the freakout over Man Down

First - the video:
 


And the top response on YouTube sums up the question regarding the outrage:
"After hearing the complaints I was expecting to see this horrible murder of an innocent man. So the people complaining care more about the fact that a man is killed that they completely overlook that the man in the story raped her? so much music by men depicts violence agaisnt women and they get a pass on it but god forbit a woman decides to do the same, and this case is the picture of a woman who was humiliated in the worst possible way. I applaud rihanna for this video"


Exactly!


People, you need to wake up and see there's a war being waged on women. If you have a daughter, wife, girlfriend, sister, a niece, a female cousin...wake up.  Because here's the new for you today.



  1. Plan and expect to be raped. Yes - time to get your rape insurance.  Be sure to get something with a low-deductible, or otherwise plan on having the extra cash around for the rape kit, hospital say and potential abortion.
  2. And, once you have been raped - do go to the police and report it.  Sure, your rapist might not be prosecuted.  There are several of recent examples.  About half the men arrested for rape are not prosecuted.
Why aren't these guys being prosecuted?  "Uncooperative witness", "Questionable motives", District Attorneys claiming they didn't have enough evidence that would convince a jury of guilt, and my favorite "Both parties were drunk"


Uncooperative Witness - I get this.  You've been raped and you might be fearful to return to the courtroom, recount that one evening of drunken bliss, prior sexual partners, and the memory of being dragged from the elevator to some guy's car. Although, the rape kit might show the rips, tears and bruising...it's just too much for the mind to comprehend.


District Attorneys, according to Wikipedia: "In many jurisdictions in the United States, a District Attorney (DA) is an elected or appointed government official who represents the government in the prosecution of criminal offenses. The district attorney is the highest officeholder in the jurisdiction's legal department and supervises a staff of assistant (ADA) or deputy district attorneys." 


Here in LA County, we elect ours.  Next time you hear that the DA didn't file charges in a rape case because they "couldn't get the job done" just think to yourself that another rapist is out on the street and he's gotten away with it...probably...again.


And, once your rapist has been arrested, not prosecuted...he will most likely rape again.  


The part that really gets me, is the outpouring of support for the guys who "do good" who rape and then have their buddies come to their aid. Whether through editorial like Professor Stein. Or, the rapist's co-workers aid in the coverup. Or, the rapist is an outstanding athlete with a penchant for violence against anything that moves, that a school will cover up for. Or, when police officers cover for each other.


Around the internet there are more enlightening articles about this war on women. Is it just a matter of time before the story of the Handmaidens Tale comes to life?  What do I tell my daughter?  It's one of those things I feel like Alex needs to break the news to her - that she or one of her friends will be sexually assaulted at some point in their life, and society will do pretty much nothing to prevent it from happening to her, prosecuting the rapist, and preventing it from happening again.  Because I don't have the heart to tell my little girl about the bad in the world.


I watched the video a couple of times now.  If you haven't figured it out, Rihanna's telling the story about stopping the violence, and the same time showing a story about how out of necessity the violence is perpetuated.  She, of all people out in the world have a duty, expectation, and responsibility to showcase the injustice of rape.


For those of you out there who feel the video's too violent, too graphic, or "Rihanna shouldn't be talking (or dressing or dancing) like that - too provocative" Take a moment and check yourself. Rape isn't a matter of talking, dressing, or dancing in a way to "provoke" rape.


We would be having a different conversation if there was a serial rapist out there hunting down hetero-men.