Today was the return of Princess Crabby Poo.

Her return was completely by surprise. After all, Cordelia had a wonderful night. She slept through the night until 7:30am this morning.

She woke up happy, greeting everyone on the 7th floor of the Best Western Grant Park with a bright “Hi!” We packed up and prepared to walk across the park to the Shedd Aquarium.

So we were completely caught off guard when Princess Crabby Poo made her appearance shortly after we walked into the aquarium. The aquarium was packed, so she had a full audience for her scream fest. After several minutes of angry screaming (on her part) we let her out of the stroller to prevent one of the on-lookers from calling child protective services. She immediately tried to run from us.

We chased her for a half hour, trying to point out the turtles and fish and seahorses, but she didn’t care. “Look Cordy, there’s an eel! Look Cordy, there’s Nemo! Cordy? Where’d you go?” She wanted to run into the crowd and disappear. At one point she even darted between a tall man’s legs, trying to lose us. I know kids find their parents unhip at some point. I just wasn’t expecting it at 16 months.

It was time for lunch, and things were no better. We offered her milk, a banana, PB&J, but cranky-butt refused to be happy about anything.

We took her to see the dolphins, the beluga whales – she was not impressed. She was just surly.

The screaming continued when we tried to put her back into her stroller. At this point other small children were coming up to us, begging us to shut the toddler up.

Of course, their parents, trying to be polite, didn’t say a thing, and chose to just shoot us dirty looks instead. Even the Aquarium staff were making little comments, like, “I think someone needs to go take a nap.” Gee, you think? Or is that just polite speak for “Get out of our aquarium.”?

We finally decided to scrap the remainder of the day’s plans (we planned to go to the Field Museum) and walk back to the hotel for a nap. For all of us.

It’s a shame we had to spend the afternoon in the hotel. It was a gorgeous day outside, and it wasn’t even too cold. The sun was bright, the air was crisp but pleasant. Very unusual for Chicago winters.

Now, normally she’s just Princess Crabby. But today she chose to add the extra name of “Poo” to her title. She had 5, yes 5, poopy diapers today. This beats her previous record of 4, which she achieved yesterday.

You see, when we were packing on Thursday morning, Cordy must have peeked in the diaper bag and carefully counted the number of diapers I had packed. She would have noticed that I had averaged the number of diapers she tends to go through in a day (normally 4, plus one overnight diaper), and added a few more just to be safe.

Then she made it her mission to go through as many diapers as possible. As of today, with a full 24 hours of the trip remaining, we are out of diapers. *Sigh*

Plus, with all that pooping, this evening she developed the scarlet hiney. The painful, raw diaper rash from hell that no child should ever have to endure.

In the past hour we’ve had a bath, and she’s getting some much needed nakey-time. Besides, we’re out of diapers, and I still need to go beg my friend Lisa for a diaper for the night.

I’m hoping with all the energy I have left that Princess Crabby Poo will take a hike and give us back our happy little girl tomorrow.

Otherwise, it’s gonna be a long day of shopping.

Did I forget to mention I was going to Chicago this weekend?

Aaron has a stage combat workshop in Chicago every January (yes, we know, what a fabulous time to be in Chicago), and I usually come along for the sightseeing.

So yesterday we packed up the van we’re borrowing from Aaron’s parents, made sure the housesitter was comfortable and ready to spend a long weekend in, and then hit the open road.

Last year, Cordy was 4 months old, so we left her at home with my mom. This year, I wanted her to see Chicago, so she came along with us. Thankfully, so did my mom. Somehow, wrangling a 16 month old all by myself in Chicago seemed a little terrifying.

We were expecting Cordy to not enjoy the drive, but amazingly she was quiet and happy most of the way. Considering she barely slept in the car, this was an occurrence only slightly less miraculous than the appearance of the Virgin Mary at Fatima.

Once we checked into our hotel, it was time to find food. We took a cab to the Rainforest Cafe. It’s a great place to keep little kids entertained – a jungle themed dining area, with large tanks of exotic fish, and animatrons of gorillas, elephants, and other animals making lots of noise. Cordelia loved it all.

I was worried about how well Cordy would sleep. In past months, whenever we have spent the night away from home, Cordy did not want to sleep. She would wake up, generally around 2 or 3am, and stay awake the remainder of the night, screaming.

She did not disappoint last night. 3:15am, she woke up and started screaming. Luckily, we have two hotel rooms, so Aaron wouldn’t be disturbed, since swinging swords on little sleep is just a wee bit crazy. Mom and I stayed up with her, and by 4am, I was ready to attempt the nuclear option: Benadryl.

Benadryl makes many children sleepy. For a small percentage, it hypes them up. Guess which group Cordy falls in. Go on, take a guess.

By 4:30am, we realized that she was not getting drowsy. Mom sent me back to bed in the other room, and she chose to stay up. Bless her. Cordy finally fell asleep again at 6:30am. So the day didn’t even begin for us until after 10am, when everyone was up.

Today’s sightseeing plan was all about the Navy Pier. More specifically, the Children’s Museum. In return for spending all day yesterday strapped in a car seat, Cordy got to run and play in a museum built just for little ones like her.

The Navy Pier is just amazing. There are unique shops, cozy cafes and restaurants, and lots of entertainers roaming the place. Had we been here in the summer, we could have taken a ride on the gigantic ferris wheel or a speedboat. However, today was very windy with a mix of rain and snow, so we preferred to remain indoors.

The Children’s Museum is attached to all of this, and it is three stories of fun. Many exhibits are for older kids, but there were a few designed just for the under 5 set. There were things to climb, water to splash in, bricks to build with.

Cordelia gives her seal of approval to the Tree House, with its wood and rope ramps and platforms, as well as the “stream” where she enjoyed catching plastic fish and shells and then beating them to death on the edge of the stream. Who knew she was part otter?

She also found a ramp and after a little practice discovered that it was great fun to climb the ramp, then flop onto her belly and slide back down it. This was repeated several hundred times.

The only unfortunate part of the day was trying to leave. We had been there for 4 hours, and it was clear that Cordelia was exhausted. But no matter how tired she was, leaving was not part of her agenda.

My mom and I both had to wrestle her into the stroller as she thrashed and screamed and arched her back. She screamed until she was purple in the face. Even her hair took on a reddish-purple tint. We attempted to placate her with chocolate from an amazing fudge shop on the Navy Pier, but she refused our peace offering. Of course, we didn’t really mind that – more pecan turtles for us, then.

Tomorrow we’re planning to go to the Shedd Aquarium and the Field Museum. The Shedd has a fun dolphin show that we’re hoping Cordy will enjoy. Of course, she’ll probably spend the entire show trying to climb up and down the amphitheater seating.

OK everyone, it’s De-Lurking Week in the Blogosphere! Maybe you’ve wanted to post a “Hi!” and never had the time. Maybe you’re just shy. Maybe it’s your first time here.

Regardless, here’s your chance to come out of Lurkdom and make your mark!

To keep it interesting, I’d like to ask you to do just a little more than say hi. Tell me something about yourself. Or tell me why you like reading my blog. Or tell me what you’d like to see on my blog. Or, hell, even tell me what you don’t like about this blog. Just some feedback so I know just who is passing through. I promise, it’ll be painless, at least to you.

So take a chance and give me a little comment, OK? Show me I’m not just talking to myself and a very few others.

Don’t make me have to double my antidepressants.

I hate it when parents choose to tell other parents that a certain parenting style is the ONLY way to parent, and every other way is wrong. Well, Queen of Spain had that happen to her yesterday. It seems she got a nasty e-mail criticizing her parenting choices, and she fought back by re-affirming her choices publicly.

Several moms gave their views on the matter, but then the original troublemaker (Mr. Anonymous – gotta love a person who stands up for his beliefs so much that he refuses to identify himself) decided to tell us all that we should be following Babywise and deferring to our husbands to make parenting decisions. That’s when the real fun began.

But the original post was what really hit home for me. Queen had been attacked on her parenting choices, and decided to fight back and defend herself. She points out that often we moms are hyper critical of others parenting choices, but we play all nicey-nice to each other and then stab them in the back when they’re gone. She made it clear that her choices worked for her, and she was sick of being called a bad parent for making those choices.

Queen bared it all for the Web to see: co-sleeping, no cry-it-out, nursing on demand and child-led weaning. I’m glad to see that, other than Mr. Anonymous, no one picked a fight. Even when he acted as troll-bait, the firestorm that followed was directed at him, not at Queen and her choices. We could all agree to disagree, and we could all agree that guy was a Fucktard (love that word, by the way).

Personally, I find I don’t get all that upset over parenting choices. Probably because everything I believed when I was pregnant never came about once Cordelia was born.

I wanted a natural birth. Cordelia, on the other hand, didn’t feel like coming out. At all. Ever. She remained in a rare complete breech position, requiring a c-section to get her out. I wanted to nurse her right at birth. But due to the c-section, she was taken from me and I didn’t see her for the next 3 hours.

I wanted to breastfeed. I believed in nursing on demand and child-led weaning. But Cordy had other ideas. She refused to latch on for more than 10 seconds in the hospital, and by the second night of little nourishment, her blood sugar had dropped so low that the nurses informed me that she must be given a bottle. She loved the bottle, of course, and there was little turning back after that. We did eventually get her to breastfeed, but she had to be supplemented with the bottle, which she preferred over me. By 4 months, when I went back to work and faced a bastard of a manager who wouldn’t provide me anywhere to pump other than a dingy single-stall bathroom, I conceded the battle. Cordy didn’t like it, I was a stressed out mess, and with no ability to pump during the day, my milk was drying up. The white flag was up.

I was all for co-sleeping. And for the first 4 months we did co-sleep most nights. Then I decided to try her in her crib in the other room for a night. She slept through most of the night, when she had been waking several times a night before. It was clear that she wasn’t waking us up – we were keeping her awake. Cordy wanted her space, preferably in a different room, away from the snoring. Now she insists on sleeping in her crib, alone, and will not fall asleep unless everyone else is out of the room. 15 months going on 15 years, I tell you.

Every beautiful idea I had in my head while pregnant of how I would parent my child was smashed by the cold reality that this stubborn baby girl of mine refused to comply with my wishes. I started to realize that there was no single parenting style that worked for every child. No one-size-fits-all mentality. Each child is different, and the best way to parent that child is to do whatever works best for parent and child.

Parenting is not a static art. It’s a science continuously in flux, with thousands of variables that must be accounted for and adjusted for each individual. The best parents are those that can recognize what works and what doesn’t work for their children, and fine-tune their skills to find an acceptable path for everyone. Forcing a certain parenting doctrine on a child will only lead to misery for both parent and child.

As for me? While nothing I wanted worked out for me, I’m still thrilled with my stubborn little girl and all she stands for. She gave me a harsh lesson in expectations, and while I would still like all of those original ideals I had to come true for any future children, I also recognize that they may not. I will simply need to go with the flow and adjust where necessary. Zen Parenting.

Oh, and I’m so waiting for the day when Cordelia has a daughter just. like. her.

Today I did something I haven’t done in over two years: I stepped back into the classroom as a student.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it here, but I am feeling out a new career path. I’m currently taking a few classes as pre-requisites for a nursing program to see if it’s something I want to pursue. Seriously? Yeah, seriously.

You see, I figured two complete career changes before I turned 30 was pretty accomplished, but I have been feeling the itch to do something different again. My current job as a student advisor is great, although the pay is low. I enjoy working part-time, I enjoy working with people, and I love being able to see so much more of my daughter. But again, the pay is low. I’ve always had a knack for choosing low-pay careers – you don’t get a history degree for the $$ it will bring. Nor a theatre degree.

I first thought about nursing when I was in the hospital with Cordelia. Nearly any new mom will tell you: it’s not the doctors that make or break your experience in the hospital. It’s the nurses. Let me repeat that for emphasis: it’s the nurses. While I never got to experience the delivery room, I know from the tales of others that the doctor is generally only there at the end to play catcher. Until then, you are at the mercy of your nurses. They can make your life heaven or hell, and I was lucky to have (mostly) wonderful nurses for my post-partum care. OK, the percoset-pusher overnight nurse was a pain in the ass (that’s a story for another day), but the other nurses were helpful, caring, and attentive.

I thought to myself: what a wonderful job. Helping parents with their new children, helping mothers rest and get to know their new babies. Yeah, I know it’s also a lot of bitchy moms, overbearing grandparents, and body fluids of all types, but that’s never bothered me much.

The benefits of nursing are simply amazing as well: great pay, great health care benefits, part-time hours are always available, and with the current shortage of nurses, you can basically set your own hours.

After thinking it might be something to try, I decided to apply to the local college and give it a go. This quarter I’m signed up for Psychology and Human Anatomy. Anatomy is often referred to as a “weed out” class. It’s hard. No, I mean it – really hard. Human Anatomy is my personal test. If I can pass it, then I will continue on with classes. If I can’t pass it, then clearly this isn’t for me and I will stop there.

My mother works in the medical field, and thanks to her I already know a lot about medical terminology. I also spent a lot of time as a child visiting her or hanging out at the hospital where she worked, and I saw all sorts of illnesses and injuries come in those emergency room doors. Dead bodies don’t bother me. In fact, I’m actually looking forward to working with the human cadavers in class. (Yes, I know. I’m a total freak.)

Aaron is totally supportive of my plan, probably because it means that if I’m a nurse, I can make the equivalent of what we consider a full-time salary while only working part-time hours. For him, it means a chance to work more part-time, and focus on his theatre and stage combat career. For me, it means more money, plus I still get to see my daughter. Perfect!

Do I still want to write? Of course. I enjoy writing. It’s my release. But I doubt I’ll ever be able to make a living from it. Like many of our artistic/creative friends, I will probably always have the job I like that pays the bills, and the job I love that is my creative outlet. I’m far too insane to do only one thing at a time.