02/08 1ere semaine/ 1st week

La semaine a demarrer sur les chapeaux de roues, comme prevu pour le "Superbowl", avec 80 avions sur le parking rien que pour notre compagnie a elle seule. Autant dire que si un pilote de compagnie comme 'USair","United" ou "American" passait par la, il n'ya pas de doute que ca a du l'impressionner!
Nous sommes reste pratiquement qu'en Californie cette semaine, car beaucoup de petits problemes: Un joint sur le pare-brise qui empeche l'avion de pressuriser correctement sur le premier avion, le trim qui correspond pas a une indication normale sur le deuxieme...

Florence pendant ce temps, suit son bonhomme de chemin tranquille. Des que je peux, je mets la maman devant le clavier pour qu'elle nous raconte.

Busy week in Florence-dom, mostly due to sleep issues, as in "not getting sleep" issues. Been doing some detective work to decipher the problem. Going to bed too early, problem one. Not getting enough down time prior to bed, problem two. Not needing as many naps anymore, problem three. Not enough background noise to hide house sounds, problem four. Diaper leakage, problem five.

Anyhoo, so slowly chipping away at the issue to finally get us back to sleeping through the nite. It's a slow process, but hopefully a relatively painless one on her. After all, how much pain should a wee little baby have? Save that for adulthood, for when you're working for "the man."

Refuse adamantly to let her cry it out, or, better said, to abandon her to the tough shit world as we know it. Really, who invented cry it out? Some sadistic bastard who wanted to sell books.

I find it funny, not in a ha ha kind of way, when people are proponents of things to do to their babies which they would never ever want someone to do to them. For example? Well, imagine, you're laid up from an injury, or just an ol' fart and you don't get around well anymore. So you're dependent on someone else to help you, help you move, help you eat, etc. And you're in bed, stuck without someone's help, and you're hungry, or cold, or don't feel good, or your old fart diaper leaked, or the house noises are keeping you up, maybe the neighbor's dog keeps barking, or, hell, you're simply lonely and scared, not understanding what's happening to you. You simply need a loving hand, hug, or kiss.

Now, wouldn't you just love your supposed loved one to come in, look at you, pat you on the tummy, say "you'll be fine" and leave you without assessing your needs or, God forbid, answering them. After all, suck it up, it's a tough shit world out there so deal with it.

Somehow I think you'd be pissed or hurt or upset if this was done to you. But, hell, you need to be trained that you can't always have what you want. (Why does it seem that those who didn't get what they wanted seem the most hell bent on assuring that no one else gets what they need? Like a sad game of misery loves company). And that training might as well start at four months of age! Suck it up!!!!!

Better hope, you evil cry it outers, that some sad karma doesn't come back to kick you in the ass when you're an ol' fart! It will be a lonnnnnnnnnnggg and lonely night with that wet diaper. Oh, and don't forget, that you spent so much time crying for help that your voice is hoarse and you actually vomiting from the stress (common in cry it outed babies).

I was in a hospital once, visiting my mom, and next door was this very old, very sick woman quietly crying out for help, saying in a low, sad, weak voice "help me, help me." Nurses walked by. No one answered. I went to her to assess her needs and got her help. Guess an old fart version of a cry it outer. Saddest thing I ever saw. As if the woman wasn't suffering enough but to feel ignored and abandoned, well, that's even worse than any physical pain you can have.

And now for what I really think. I really should stop being so damn shy with my feelings.

Out.