Poohjitsu!!!

Sleep has never really been much of an issue between Poohbutt and me when Mommy's been away. We'd eat dinner, play for a few hours. I'd look at the clock, and ask, "Do you wanna go to bed, Pooh?" She'd nod. We'd change her clothes. I'd put her in her crib, and she was off to Slumberland.

I don't know why--maybe some child development specialist can explain--but that's all changed with Mommy's going to Haiti. Now the kid refused to sleep in her crib. Refuses! This kid just won't cry a river when she's being obstinate. Noah starts building arks when Pooh gets going. Seconds, minutes, hours can screech by during one of her Attica! Attica! crying attacks. Entire empires are born and crumble to dust.

Right now, I'm a little too harried to resist. So yes, things have indeed changed. As I write this, Pooh's sleeping on the futon next to me as I write and watch this Russell Simmons piece on Bio.

This refusal of the crib also means that my daughter is now sleeping in the big bed with Daddy. And I must confess ... Daddy is getting his ass kicked, people! For, much to my chagrin, I have discovered that my sweet, little two-year-old daughter is a deadly Shaolin master of the sleeping martial art commonly known as Poohjitsu.

It's a devious, lethal art mastering several stealth techniques meant to injure, maim, and even kill an unwary opponent.

First, the Poohjitsu disciple must master the Whirling Dervish. The little tyke knows that, at any time, the adult can roll over and crush them. They must keep the adult's subconscious mind conscious of this tragic fact. Therefore, they ceaselessly flail around in the bed. The skillful Whirling Dervish tactician can be found on her opponent's side of the bed, sleeping across the pillows by the opponent's head, and even squirming around at the foot of the bed. This wears down the adult, leaving them in a fitful state of paranoid semi-wakefulness, constantly wondering where the child might be. This forces the adult to the edge of the bed, facing in at the Poohjitsu warrior.

The Poohjitsu will then execute the Christ, spreading out in the Cruxifix pose to secure the adult at the edge of the bed, precariously balanced so as to neither fall off the edge of the bed or fall in and crush the toddler.

Once successful, the Poohjitsu goes to work.

Yours truly has received numerous Drooling Dropkicks to the Jock, the Snoring Smack in the Face, and countless Thumbsucker Socks in the Eye. I am proud, knowing that Pooh can defend herself against any sleeping foe, but I sure as hell am beaten.

It's going to be a long three weeks, people.

Help ... me ... Help ... me ...