Hasta La Gadget!

Dear T. (Spaceholder):

Most of what I used to write was fiction. Inventing, stealing, and playing pretend. I read three novels a week, sinking into other worlds, other possible lives not my own. It was a way to escape myself, my life, all that I had failed to do. I could be anyone in my stories, anyone but me: a Ukrainian prostitute, a Polish home health aide, a sideshow freak. Those lives could be written as more meaningful than mine. I was sick–bipolar and aonorexia taking me down–and trying to die for so many years, that I had no hope for my story. Words brought clarity, meaning, and shape to my disintegration.

But then I began to get well, to surface from the black swamp of despair, and to imagine my own possibilities again and make meaning out of my life. It didn’t have to be about ending, but about redemption. And writing fiction no longer seemed as important as writing my truth, writing about vulnerability and pain, about rising up from the ash heap of the self and gaining altitude again with wings that were in tatters but still beating, still lifting me into the trade winds.

So I write what I feel and know about my experience in the world. This is me. I offer myself to you, Dear World. Be gentle or fierce, it’s worth the risk because the days have sharp edges now, and the hair on my arms stands on end, and my vision is acute, and I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I am permeable and the world rushes through me.

I used to ride horses at a stable that rescued abused horses. One afternoon, a new horse was alone in the paddock, galloping across the field and skidding to a stop at the fence line. Over and over. I thought it was playing. What’s the word? Frolicking. My instructor, Lee, corrected me.

“He’s wicky wacky,” she said. “After all the abuse, he’s terrified of being out there alone. He’s going to hurt himself rushing the fences like that. Watch this.”

She disappeared into the barn and returned with Chandi, a horse who had arrived skittish, but after long hard work, was now calm and reliable. She released Chandi into the paddock. The new, wild horse trotted over and immediately settled, nickering softly to Chandi as if in gratitude. No more wicky wackies.

Do you know that if you take one single heart cell, a myocyte, and place it in a petri dish by itself, it will go into arrhythmia, lose its steady rhythm and beat wildly? Wicky wacky. But if you take another heart cell from any other person’s heart in the world, and put it into the petri dish, the cells will immediately start to beat in rhythm together? As long as the beating cells do not touch each other, they beat at separate speeds. But when they touch? The side-by-side cells form interconnected sheets of cells, and beat as one.

That’s what it is like for me. I get wicky wacky when I’m rushing fences alone. It’s why, when I feel an intuitive connection with someone, a shared rhythm, I leap into that relationship. It’s how all my close friendships are: steadying, transparent, defenses lowered. Just seeing and knowing and accepting and hoping for each other. It’s why my marriage was a spectacular failure–we fell apart, cells in separate petri dishes, no interconnection, no shared rhythm.

You said, as if in astonishment, “You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. Your heart is your sleeve.” A few years ago, though, I was guarded, defended, remote, and inaccessible. My ex-husband once said (granted in the middle of my bipolar collapse), “Your misery exhausts me.” Death seemed better than failure, seemed better than life inside death. But coming through all that? The worst that life could throw at me?

Risk, real daring is not jumping off the bridge but walking across the bridge to the unknown shore on the other side. Allowing myself to be seen–stripping all the way down to truth and longing and fear and tender, terrifying hope. In The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje writes, “The heart is an organ of fire.” And it’s true, isn’t it? The heart is not just there to help oxygenate and circulate the blood, but to quicken a thrilling rhythm, to throb in our ears, to push against our ribcages, burning us from inside with all that we feel and want. It reminds us that we are alive, yet, that we respire and are inspired, circulating ideas and words and sounds throughout our bodies, asking us to take necessary breath, to swallow language and love. And to be a little less alone in the petri dish, and a little more in syncopation, and yes, in love with each other.

Love, with love, in love,
Me

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I’m probably going to get some disagreement in the ‘Comments’ section on this one, but here goes…

If your baby is 6 months or older and still not sleeping through the night, it’s because you’re not letting them.

That’s not an accusation, by the way, and I’m certainly not suggesting anyone’s a “bad parent.”

But I’ve been a child sleep professional for 12 years, and over that time I’ve identified 5 main ways parents accidentally “sabotage” their children’s sleep.

They are:

1. Baby’s falling asleep outside of his crib

I know there’s a certain romance attached to rocking your baby to sleep in your arms, and then laying him gently into his crib. As far as motherhood goes, it’s pretty much the defining visual, but it’s not helpful when it comes to a sustained, rejuvenating sleep.

The problem is that baby’s going to fall asleep in your arms, and then wake up in his crib. As you can well imagine, if you fall asleep in one place and wake up in another, your mind is going to start racing, trying to figure out where you are and how you got there.

This is also a one-two punch, because not only is he awake and agitated, but he’s used to making the journey from awake to asleep in your arms, so he’s going to be calling you in to settle him down in his usual fashion.

2. Entering into negotiations

Kids love, and I mean love, to haggle… especially at bedtime.

Typically, they’ve got nothing to lose by arguing for a later bedtime, and they are never, ever satisfied. One extra story will always lead to a request for one more, and once they’ve successfully negotiated once, watch out. Do yourself and your little one a favor and don’t even open the door to these debates.

I do think you should give your child choices when it comes to bedtime, but stick to “this one or this one” decisions, like:

“Which two stories do you want to hear tonight?” or, “Which pair of PJs do you want to wear?” “Do you want to take your bath now, or after you brush your teeth?” The options you give them should be easy to make, and have no effect on the routine.

3. Altering the bedtime routine

Let’s face it. Motherhood’s exciting enough. It’s not always the fun, exhilarating, night-out-with-the-girls kind of excitement, but it definitely keeps you on your toes.

So although it might feel like you’re stuck in a rut after months upon months of following the same bedtime routine, resist the temptation to change things up.

The bedtime routine isn’t just about getting your little one physically ready for bed. The process signals the brain that bedtime is approaching, and the brain responds by getting ready to shut down for the night.

If you need a change, take your little one to a different park or play some new games, but once you’ve found a working bedtime routine, carve it in stone.

4. Blinging-out baby’s room

I know how charming the idea of an immaculately decorated nursery is. Parenting websites have provided us with endless images of baby bedrooms that look like collaborations between Martha Stewart and Frank Gehry, but I assure you, your baby couldn’t care less about complementary colors and feng shui.

All of those mobiles, aquariums and star projectors are actually more likely to hinder baby’s sleep than they are to help. Lights, noises, and distractions, no matter how soothing they may seem to grown-ups, just fascinate and excite babies. A dark bedroom and a comfortable pair of PJs are the best accessories you can provide.

5. Relying on “sleep props”

I hear a lot of people on my social media channels arguing that babies don’t sleep through the night, and that’s actually true. Neither do adults, for that matter. We all sleep for a while, wake up, then fall back to sleep numerous times a night.

But if your baby will only fall asleep when you rock him, or nurse him, or when he’s got his pacifier, or you’re singing him a lullaby, those are what I call “sleep props.”

The problem is when your baby wakes in the night, you’ve taught him to rely on that “sleep prop” in order to fall asleep. This is why babies cry in the night: It’s the only way they have of letting you know they want their prop… so they can fall back to sleep!

About Dana: Dana Obleman is the creator of The Sleep Sense Program, which has helped over 57,000 parents get their children sleeping through the night. You can get a free customized sleep plan for your child by clicking here, or you can find Dana online at www.sleepsense.net, on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

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An orphaned duckling who survived horrific cruelty is doing just fine, thanks to a kind boy, a wildlife rehabilitator and a larger duckling with a little more life experience.

Annette Pyrah, who operates The Wildlife Orphanage in North Yorkshire, England, received a call on Saturday from someone who saw a group of 12-year-old boys beat a mother duck and her ducklings to death with a stick, the Yorkshire Evening Post reports. Police are investigating the incident.

But another boy, age 10, managed to save one of the ducklings, and the creature wound up in Pyrah’s care.

“I put the new duckling in an incubator, but I thought she was going to die,” she told The Dodo. “She kept crying and crying, for hours.”

Pyrah decided to take a risk and place the newcomer with another, slightly older duckling that was already in her care. Someone found that duckling earlier in May, wandering in the road alone with no mother nearby.

It was a risk because unrelated ducklings don’t always get along, but she wanted to take the chance to ease the younger duckling’s extreme stress. It turns out she made the right choice.

“In the morning they were sitting together under the heater like two best friends,” she told the York Press. “The older duckling has taken the traumatized baby under her wing and they are now inseparable.”

Anyone who believes they’ve found an orphaned animal should consult with a qualified rehabber or expert before they take action, The Wildlife Orphanage warns on Facebook. People commonly mistake baby animals — particularly deer and rabbits — for orphans when in reality the mother has simply left them alone temporarily.

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Dear Mommy and Daddy,

It’s me, your anxious toddler. I know I don’t normally have the words to explain my behavior and at times I probably really frustrated you. I am sorry. I frustrate myself too.

I am not trying to be difficult and I am not a bad kid, but sometimes things just get overwhelming.

Like in the mornings when you ask me if I want waffles or pancakes. Waffles sound good, but when I see them I know I definitely made the wrong choice and I cry and say I wanted pancakes. Decisions are hard for me and I am afraid I might make the wrong choice — and I often do. Sometimes I might go back and forth with what I want and confuse us both.

Food is scary. You sometimes put things on my plate that look and smell weird. I get upset when I think the food is nice and smooth and then my tongue finds lumps. Sometimes this makes me want to throw up. I might spit my food out or gag. I am not trying to waste food. Sometimes food has a strong taste and I get overwhelmed. To be safe, I try to stick with foods that I have already seen and I already know how they taste in my mouth. You call me “picky” — I don’t know what that means, but if it means not gagging or tasting yucky food — then yes, I am!

I like to know where you are. I follow you everywhere. When you leave the room I get scared because I don’t feel safe. I know when you are with me, you’ll keep me safe. Sometimes I don’t play because I want to make sure I know where you are going. I hate it when you go to the bathroom and don’t let me in. Only my little fingers can get under the door. I wish I could squish my whole self under! I stay very close now so you don’t have time to disappear.

The toilet is not my friend. I don’t know why you want me to sit on that scary thing with a huge hole. What if I fall. What if it swallows me. What if bugs come out of the toilet. What if water splashes on me. What if I have to wipe and can’t get clean. I am okay with peeing really fast, but I don’t like to sit there and poop.

Sometimes it hurts my bottom to poop, so I just hold it in. Sometimes I hold it in for so long, small little poop balls fall out of my pants. I know you think that is gross – but I can’t help it. Sometimes I hold my pee and poop and it starts to hurt. I bounce around and hold my bottom and you tell me to go – but I tell you I don’t have to go. There is no way I am sitting on that scary potty.

Night time is the scariest time of day. Everything gets dark and you put me in a room all by myself. I worry there might be bugs in my room. Scary things are in the corners, but you tell me they are “shadows” – whatever that means. You tell me you will keep me safe, but then you leave. Am I safe if you are not with me? Are there scary things that you need to protect me from?

I don’t like shutting my eyes — what if something pops out or tries to get me. Sometimes you will lie down with me, but I can’t relax because I know if I close my eyes you will leave! I listen and feel for the bed to move so I can catch you before you leave. Sometimes I see you trying to sneak out, but I cry and get you back in bed!

I know dressing me is a hassle. Trust me — it is a hassle for me too. Whose idea was it that we should all wear clothes? I love to just run around naked. You tell me I have to at least wear underwear. Whatever! Socks are the worst. Why should I wear these things that make my feet hot and have big bumps on my toes. I can feel these bumps in my shoes.

Shoes! Uggh — don’t get me started on that crazy invention! I hate shoes. Sometimes they feel too loose, sometimes they are too tight. I want my feet to breath — so flip flops or crocs are good. I wish I could wear those all the time.

The things my mom calls “tags” are another huge problem. Who thought it would be a good idea to have an itchy piece of fabric attached to all my clothes. I can feel it scratching my back as I walk. I try to rip at it and finally just rip off the whole shirt. You yell at me to put my clothes back on. I hate clothes.

I don’t deal well with change. I have been meaning to talk to you about this. Don’t tell me we are going to the park and then tell me we “ran out of time.” Where did time run off to?

Sometimes I am just getting into something and you tell me to clean up. I can’t leave my square half done. My square still needs that pink feather glued to it and I wanted to add the sparkles too. There is no way I am leaving my square! We battle a lot. I win sometimes.

I know some of these things can get very annoying. I am new to the world and I am just learning how to adapt and get around. Sometimes the sounds, smells and noises of life scare me. New experiences can be overwhelming and worry me.

I see so many things that can hurt me. Things you may not think are scary but are scary to me. Like the ducks at the zoo or the loud garbage truck. I know you tell me it is “just this” or “just that” — but I don’t know that — I am just learning.

So be patient with me. Pick your battles. Talk in a calming voice — even when I am screaming at the top of my lungs. You are my anchor in my crazy world — and one day I will really really appreciate it! I promise!

***
Natasha Daniels is the author of How to Parent Your Anxious Toddler. For more of her parenting articles visit AnxiousToddlers.com or follow Natasha Daniels on Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram or sign up for her weekly parenting newsletter here.

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Tiny, Unique, and Nearly Gone from Wikiwhale on Vimeo.

The tiny Maui’s dolphin, whose evolutionary path has out-maneuvered that of the brainiest predator in the ocean – the killer whale – now faces near extinction at the hands of man. In a few short decades this unique dolphin and its close relative the Hector’s dolphin have been decimated by greed and corruption.
How these small dolphins avoid killer whales. Creative Commons[/caption]

For millennia the little dolphins thrived in spite of several types of killer whales that navigate the region. These cute dolphins with ‘Mickey Mouse ear’ dorsal fins have developed an evolutionary trick – their sonar is too high pitched for the orcas to hear. The dolphins have abandoned whistling and instead have adapted their sonar to communicate with each other as well as to navigate and locate prey. (Read more about this fascinating adaptation here and here.)

Their home range is restricted to shallow (100 meter) depths that tend to be ‘acoustically cluttered’, further making them hard to detect.

But while perfectly adapted to an open environment, they run afoul of nets and an indifferent government. The future of the remaining 43 – 47 Maui’s dolphins left in existence is dependent upon preventing just two types of fishing – gill netting and trawling – in the small region off the coast New Zealand that this species calls home.

Yet New Zealand’s Minister for Primary Industries, Hon Nathan Guy. refuses to take action. Worse, an academic paper has emerged that implicates him in failing to report half of the fish taken by commercial boats, and for allowing cover-up of dolphin deaths.

scoop.nz reports:

Auckland, 16 May 2016 – Greenpeace is calling for an independent investigation of the Ministry for Primary Industries (MPI) in light of an explosive academic report released today, which finds that the quantity of fish caught in New Zealand is more than twice what is officially recorded.

…Of the total catch from foreign and New Zealand flagged vessels, commercial discards were estimated to be as high as 37.4% of fish caught. Unreported landings from the industrial sectors made up 18.3%.

“That means nearly twenty percent of all fish caught are stolen and over a third are thrown back. The waste is mind boggling,” says [Executive Director of Greenpeace New Zealand, Russel Norman].

…The University of Auckland’s report also reveals a situation where multiple vulnerable Hector’s dolphins were caught, and only one reported. This follows on from allegations that surfaced just last Friday, in a study by German conservation organisation, NABU International, that revealed a critically endangered Maui dolphin catch cover-up by MPI. Norman says Greenpeace is demanding an independent investigation into the government department.

“Not only has the catch been more than double what has been recorded, but it appears that MPI have known and kept it quiet,” he says. “MPI must now release any visual evidence they have hidden, and let all New Zealanders see what is going on out at sea. “

China accounts for nearly one third of total seafood export value.

The second most valuable market is Australia followed by the United States, Japan, Hong Kong, South Korea, Spain, France, Germany and Thailand.

The word “Maui” from the Maui’s dolphin’s name comes from te Ika-a-Māui, the Māori word for New Zealand’s North Island. (Wikipedia)[/caption]

The Maui’s dolphins, and their close relative the Hector’s dolphin, need a break and time to recover. You can help by refusing to buy seafood caught in New Zealand, and by volunteering to help spread the word to pressure the government of New Zealand to fully protect the remaining dolphins.

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