But, Dad Said...

Wow! The term, “Four month wakeful period,” does not come close to preparing one for what it really is. It sounds so peaceful… Ah… Wakeful. Buttercups and rainbows on a lolipop trail. Last night I got my first taste this developmental phenomenon, and I’m suggesting we change the name to, “4 Month Bat Shit Crazy In The Middle Of The Night Period.” Seriously, something needs to be done.

After five minutes of, “Let’s just see if she falls back to sleep,” I go in. You know that move Bruce Lee does when he gets knocked on his back, and then does that arched back springy thing to get back on his feet? Well, she’s in her crib doing the 4 month old baby’s version of that. I take her to the changing table where the Kung Fu continues, kick, kick, chop, double fisted chop! “Babe! She’s gone crazy!” Whirlwind tornado arm strike!

After a diaper change and a 4oz bottle being taken down in 45 seconds flat, I lay her back down. This is where it gets creepy. She lays there and starts to slam her fists into the bed. Her breathing turns from normal to Linda Blair. She can’t roll back to front yet, but last night she came close, arching her body into a “C” on her side ala Zelda from Pet Cemetery. She alternates between those two, Linda Blair, Zelda, Linda Blair, Zelda… Fuck this, I’m outta here!

I leave the room and monitor her from just outside the door for over a half an hour. Each time I poke my head in to check her I am met by a pair of vertical, cracked out, beady eyes staring back at me through the crib bars. I SEE YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE! I don’t think she’ll be sleeping anytime soon, if ever again, so I pick her up and do the “Lean wit it, Rock wit it” for almost an hour until she starts to rub her eyes. I place her back in the crib and hold her pacifier in her mouth. Her eyes get heavy… Blink… Blink… Finally!

Tonight I’ll have the camera ready, mostly to see if I can capture any apparitions film.