Strategic operations

While General David Petraeus grapples in his new position as head of Central Command with how to apportion American military forces between Iraq and Afghanistan, we here in Princeton are figuring out whether it's a good idea to open two major fronts on the domestic scene.

Forming an alliance with Edith's strongly supportive commander in the preschool trenches, we began Operation No-Nap two days ago. Ms. Chrissy has been wonderful about doing everything she legally can do to keep Edith awake all day...never mind that it means she has a three year old in tow during the afternoon hours that teachers normally have to themselves. Yesterday Edith did fall asleep during the initial nap window, but Ms. Chrissy strategically had placed her mat near the table where the teachers sit and talk, in the hopes that their conversation would wake her up. Sure enough, one raucous laugh from Mr. Alan was enough to rouse her. Ms. Chrissy reported that she seemed perfectly cheerful getting up from a catnap, as opposed to her usual grumpiness getting up from a long nap. So Ms. Chrissy was happy. And that evening it took just twenty minutes for her to fall asleep at bedtime, so we were happy.

Today she didn't nap at all, and she and Ms. Chrissy proudly recorded their victory over the Sandman by taking pictures of Edith engaged in quiet activities to email to me and Tom:


Tonight she fell asleep at bedtime in under fifteen minutes.

**

Opening a second front, we've also taken an impulsive plunge into a new Weaning War. This morning at breakfast Edith announced for some reason that she was done with mommy milk and didn't want it anymore. Tom and I were disbelieving, especially since she had spent the previous hour nursing as usual, but Tom responded on a whim that perhaps from now on she'd drink just refrigerator milk...maybe even chocolate refrigerator milk. Edith just recently discovered the joy of chocolate milk and seems to equate it with nectar of the gods. Several friends whose die-hard nursers were still going strong at 3 1/2 years old have reported that a big-time bribery gift did the trick at that age. So on the spur of the moment, Tom decided that for now we can substitute chocolate milk for mommy milk whenever Edith starts clamoring to nurse.

Sure enough, tonight she started to wheedle for mommy milk as usual, but Tom said, "Wait, you mean chocolate milk, don't you? You're going to drink chocolate milk from now on. In fact, we'll all have some chocolate milk. But babies can't have chocolate milk, so it will only be for you, me, and Mommy--us big people." Like a charm, Edith stopped wheedling and began talking eagerly about big people drinking chocolate milk. Then she helped me make it, drank hers, and went cheerfully off to bed with Tom.

Of course we all know the dangers of claiming victory too soon. We could find ourselves mired in an inescapable morass of Hershey's bottles, cavities, and explosive mommy milk tantrums six months from now. Edith could revert to midnight bedtimes. So I'm not summoning the press to the deck of an aircraft carrier yet. For now we'll stick with General Petraeus' assessment:

“I don’t use words like victory or defeat,” he said. “In fact, I am a realist, not an optimist or a pessimist. And the reality is that there has been significant progress but there are still serious challenges.”

As always, stay tuned.