Good Night, Sleep Tight, Don't Let the...WHAT?

As many of you know, when Pumpkin was first born I was a frantic mess. Every time she inhaled, I timed it and then Googled it to make sure it was "normal." I did not have time to nap, even in those early exhausted days, because I was constantly checking the Internet to make sure that both she and I were doing everything "right."

Unfortunately, I realized too late that the Almighty Internet is a wealth of knowledge...and of useless crap. Anyone who wants can post anything they want on the Internet. Take this Blog for instance - I have no particularized knowledge about anything maternal, but I could start writing exclusively about how if your child is not snorting five packets of Kool-Aid each morning, she is doomed to be a terrible speller. Of course this is not true (or at least there is no scientific evidence to back it up), but I could write it here and, based on my writing about my own "experience" some new mother would be at Sam's stocking up on the purple stuff and trying to figure out how to teach an infant to snort.

Long story long, I went absolutely insane reading the internet. From the people who say don't breastfeed to those who say breastfeed until they can drive and from those who say co-sleep until they are 25 and those who say buy them their own apartment when they are 6-weeks old...it's enough to drive even a sane, not-sleep-deprived woman absolutely mad.

There was (and is) some useful information out there. Some of the more useful tidbits came in response to my numerous inquiries about how to teach Pump (aka Hoot Owl) how to sleep at night as opposed to during the day (or at least in addition thereto). I read about how you need to make distinctions between day and night by your use of lights, noises, etc. One of the sites also suggested that when you feed her at night make it a calm, quiet feeding - don't talk to her a whole lot or play with her, but instead rock her and sing to her softly. Seemed obvious, though I certainly didn't come up with it on my own. So thus began my awful singing career (don't worry, I won't quit my day job).

Pumpkin and I sing all day every day - soft lullabies at night and fun dancing songs during the day. In all this singing, I have come to a very disturbing conclusion - the people who wrote many of our favorite children's rhymes were psychopaths. Seriously - these songs are downright disturbing. And I'm not just talking about the misogynistic fairy tales where the mother always dies; I'm talking about songs and rhymes that should have PETA, Child Protective Services, and the Council on Aging up in arms.

First you have the poor old man who was sleeping soundly (snoring even) through a rainstorm until he awoke, only to die shortly thereafter of blunt force trauma to the head. I mean, should this man have been living alone? And more importantly, who is the sicko who wrote a charming sing-songy rhyme about this tragic turn of events?

Then you have the three blind mice. Sad enough - I'm sure there are a throng of celebrities lined up to adopt these little guys. But no, that damn farmer's wife has to maim them too. She could have been more humane and set out traps, but not Mrs. Farmer, no, that gal goes for the carving knife. Have you ever seen such a thing in your life, indeed?

Finally we come to those rhymes that are disturbing on an entirely deeper level - they are actually about harm befalling a child. Why on earth would you ever write these things down with the intention that a child should repeat them? Do you really want your child going to bed worrying that if the bough breaks (once she figures out what a bough is) that her cradle might then fall with her in it? This is the making of a very sad and scary nightmare! And she can take little comfort in her prayers, which include a line reminding God that if she should die before she wakes, he should take her soul. This is just entirely too much for a little mind to be fretting over - it's a wonder children get any sleep with these things on their consciences.

So, as for prayers, we are sticking with her cute bedtime prayer book. And my hit single for lullabies is gonna have to be Hush Little Baby. I'll just have to figure out how to explain to her why after the mockingbird that wouldn't sing and the diamond that turned brass, I thought a cart and bull would be a great gift.