Showing posts with label child development. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child development. Show all posts

13.7.15

Da-da's Easy 5-Step (Meditation) Sleep Method for Kids



Few realize it, but Da-da is the Sleep Master. Try this and you'll see why.

Triumph of A Man Called Da-da was at first supposed to be a parenting humor blog, but has since morphed into the metaphysical and anomalistic -- which is unavoidable when it comes to dealing with children and most government officials. In this light, here is a foolproof method of putting any child (or select adult) asleep with very little effort.

Da-da's Easy 5-Step Sleep-Method for Kids
After they've brushed their teeth and are in bed and ready for sleep, tell the child that you're going to teach them how to MEDITATE. When you speak, do so in a slow and calm, soothing voice. [Notes are in brackets.]

Step 1. Once the child is in bed, turn off the lights and tell them to get comfortable and close their eyes. Tell them to take a few deep breaths and relax.

Step 2. Tell them: "Now I want you to create a 'grounding cord' from the base of your spine [which you might have to describe] to the center of the earth. It's just a cord plugging you into the ground."

Step 3. Tell them: "Now imagine a big ball of white light all around you. [This is for their protection, but don't tell them that.] Wherever you go, this ball of light goes with you, all around you. Think of allowing only those with your greatest good inside your light bubble. Only those with your greatest good are allowed inside."

Step 4. "Now imagine a tiny, glowing white pine cone in the center of your head. [This is their pineal gland, a gateway of sorts.] Imagine a glowing cord going from that tiny pine cone to The Source, which is a big ball of very friendly light. You can't miss it."

Step 5. Tell them: "Now float... and imagine your true self, who you really are. Do this silently for five minutes." If they ask any questions, tell them to look around with their "spirit eyes" and find out. Check the time. Do not make a sound.
Five minutes later, your child is sound asleep. If your child isn't asleep, you either have a Yogi Master on your hands, or you need to add some calming layers to their bedtime routines (as well as avoiding all chocolate and sugar and ALL SCREENS two hours before bed; FYI, screens produce the same chemical in the brain that meth addicts enjoy). For the record, Da-da's oldest is classic ADHD, and he typically goes to sleep in five minutes with this technique, though Da-da sometimes has to do it twice.

When your kids are teens, have them try this meditation technique WHEN THEY'RE AWAKE, and concentrate on any number of meditation topics. Tends to calm them down. Grounding alone is worth the price of admission. This sleep technique also tends to eliminate bad dreams.

Better still, it works for adults. After you're comfortable with this meditation method and can get into it rather quickly, try asking for a spirit guide -- but be sure you set protection, as in Step 3. 

If you have a baby you're trying to get to sleep, try Da-da's Baby Pendula, but please be careful.


--
(Meditation Note: While Da-da is suggesting kids lie down for the above, one would normally sit to meditate. Indeed, one can meditate anywhere. You can even meditate while walking or hiking or even riding in an elevator. While Da-da used to meditate every time his old boss used to talk to him, he typically meditates sitting/"zazen" in a rocking chair. Note that zazen doesn't mean sitting cross-legged the way you see monks and yogis meditating: "The aim of zazen is just sitting, that is, suspending all judgmental thinking and letting words, ideas, images and thoughts pass by without getting involved in them." -wikipedia, 'zazen')





8.6.11

What Parenthood Actually Looks Like

Sure, Da-da used to be rich and HOT, but now... now all he's got is his incredible humility.
Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories...

What Parenthood Actually Looks Like


That should read, "And then... after making all their meals (and not having one myself), delivering the monkeys at school, fixing various things on the playground as a favor, vacuuming the house, helping a neighbor with her medications, cleaning the house, taking out the trash and recycling, watering the plants and dead-heading all the roses before 10:00 am... I blacked out. AND I LIKED IT."

7.5.11

Happy Hallmark Day

Honey, why am I getting so big... and gray?
Happy Hallmark Day to all the mothers who had no idea that motherhood (and fatherhood) would accelerate the bigger grayer tireder machine ticking inside all of us. Of course this can be avoided, but for many, it's unavoidable. Happy M-day to all the mothers of the world who put up with all the children of the world, of all ages... regardless of what state they're in.

No, honey, you look... radiant!

26.3.11

Terror, Thy Name is GRASS


Overheard at Trader Joes (visiting New Yorker to local mom): 

"We can't go to the park. My child is afraid of grass." 

And rightfully so. Thar be GRASS MONSTERS in there.


Concrete is so much safer.

21.3.11

Typhoid Da-da (or, "Advice for New Parents")

Germs! They're what's for dinner.

Da-da is hardly one to offer anyone advice because he keeps doing everything wrong. Making repeated mistakes is inevitable in regards to parenting (and is, in fact, a time-honored tradition). Why? Because your memory is the first to go. Over the years, lack of sleep, saying the same things over and over again, cleaning the same things over and over again, saying the same things over and over again while cleaning the same things over and over again... this stuff really takes a toll.

Case in point: last night was corn dogs for the kids and leftover spaghetti and meatballs for Ma-ma; Da-da wasn't that hungry (because he's about two steps from shuffling off his mortal coil), so he served as chef, maitre'd, referee and indentured servant, as usual. And as usual, seeing what Ma-ma's eating made both boys want it, too (despite their maddening inability to eat leftovers). Whatever. After the meal, Da-da noticed that his oldest, Nagurski, had not eaten that much of his spaghetti and meatballs, opting for other elements of the meal. Da-da's early warning system kicked in and he started to take the food to the trash... then thought, Well, he's hardly touched it, accompanied by that internecine race-memory phrase whispered in Da-da's mind by countless ghost mothers across the eons: IT WOULD BE A SHAME TO WASTE THAT.

Yup. You guessed it. Da-da woke up sick this morning.

Note to new and future parents: small children are scale models of the Center for Disease Control (CDC), but without the control. Even though Da-da's sons aren't sick, they're carriers for every preschool and elementary microorganism beastie lurking about for an unsuspecting mammalian digestive tract or mucous membrane.

So, Lesson 492: Don't Eat Your Kid's Food.

Ug. Da-da's GORGON cold medicine is... turning... him... to... stone...

Nooooooo!

18.3.11

The Horror of... POSTMODERN BARBIE (UPDATED)

Marin Barbie bursts into flame if she has to wait in line for more than three seconds.

Da-da has two boys, so the only dolls he has to worry about are two (ignored) Major Matt Masons and the entire veteran cast of the Star Wars franchise -- veteran, as they're now missing arms and legs and heads, poor devils. Because of a search for a stormtrooper arm and leg donor at the local toy store, Da-da suddently found himself in the Barbie aisle (it was an accident, Da-da swears), where Fascination of the Abomination immediately carpe'd Da-da's diem. Mattel, the company that makes Barbie, has evidently been exploring alternative marketing channels.

Besides the passe, "Remember the Alamo Barbie" (comes with a puzzled, tooth-missing Barbie, with cowboy hat, leather fringe jacket, and dead Davy Crocket), and the de riguer, "Harley Barbie" (Barbie as a biker chick, how ‘90s), Da-da was surprised to find not only, "Polynesian Barbie" (comes naked with plastic leis, vial of missionary venereal diseases and a Martin Denny CD), but also, "Southern Marin Barbie" (once trophy-hot, this well preserved Barbie drives a silver Mercedes, dresses like she's 14, and bursts into flame if she has to wait in line for more than three seconds). She's nearly identical to, "Grateful Dead Barbie," except for the matching tie-dye iPhone and mumu, flower tiara and four-foot jasmine bong. It got worse from there.

"Pocahontas Barbie," has been renamed, "Gaming Community Barbie" (slots sold separately). This gem was within PC bowshot of, "Redneck Barbie" (slots sold separately) done up with rhinestoned denim skirt, unconscious "dawg," and case of Southern Comfort (singlewide trailer and ‘72 Ford Torino with grass growing from the engine compartment sold separately). Then there was, "Manic Barbie" (wind her up and she stays up for days and days vacuuming, re-organizing her closets and making To Do lists on old Home Pregnancy Test packaging). More puzzling was, "Freudian Barbie," which comes naked with a fish, cigars and an autographed picture of Julie Andrews (Da-da didn’t get it, either).

One of the more disturbing variants – next to, "Klaus Barbie" (sorry) – was, "Coder Barbie." Box verbiage: "Work toward endless, impossible deadlines and circumnavigate vitric egos with CODER BARBIE, and learn that all you can do is NEVER ENOUGH." Pull her string and she shouts: "CODE FASTER YOU HOGS!" Accessories include: computer; another computer; another computer; autographed picture of Darth Vader; twin carpal tunnel wrist-supports and matching ergonomic manical/keyboard; tiny gray cubicle; old squeezy fuzzy thing that "reduces stress"; and a calendar highlighting the extreme outdoor life she doesn't live. Next to that was the sad, "Blogger Barbie," (dirty bathrobe, writes sitting on a toilet, never leaves the house).

Of course, "PR Barbie," was represented. Accessories include: iPhone, iPod, iPad, iBrator, laptop, another laptop, old netbook, 40 bottles of Tums, smelly boxes of three-day-old indian food, Facebook/Twitter addiction, virtual press kit, a silver Scion filled with dry and sticky Starbuck’s cups and dirty laundry atop several inch-thick Powerpoint presentations and white papers. Degree in Social Networking sold separately. Then there was a whole wall of dusty, unsold, "Presidential Candidate Barbie," (vain, reactionary, self-centered, wealthy, doesn’t do a damn thing) and, "Congressional Barbie," (vain, reactionary, self-centered, wealthy, doesn’t do a damn thing) were both on sale for $98,932.13 each. Joe Lieberman mind control remote sold separately.

Da-da won't recount the "Trophy Ken" aisle, as it made him weep like Brian Boitano on thin ice, but the PWNED BARBIE aisle promised to be quite interesting... if Da-da could've gotten into it. It was PACKED. So, what Barbie did Da-da come away with? You know he couldn't resist. He picked up the coolest one, o'course:

Da-da's pick: "MUMMENSCHANZ BARBIE."

Awesome ductage. And the dancing mouth makes life worth living. But what REEEEALLY scared Da-da (Da-da is tough to scare, citizens) was the life-size, "POSTMODERN BARBIE," in the back. Yikes. Remember the Alamo.

21.10.10

Da-da 101: SLEEP and The Baby Pendula


Since Da-da's supposed to be a jaded combat Da-da veteran source of parenting wisdom here, he decided to showcase one of his Top Ten Most Helpful Baby-containment Secrets. Da-da probably had a couple thousand of these ideas/skills at one time, but being Mr. Mom has taken its toll. Frankly, at this point, Da-da can't remember a damn thing, let alone his own name, hence the fact that he continues to refer to himself as, "Da-da."

Da-da was reminded of this sad fact when he recently went to Ace Hardware to get a new log carrier (for, you know, logs). He took the thing out of the box and suddenly recalled all the awe and mystery of being the parent of an infant who desperately needed to GO TO SLEEP. Like, right now. And O God, the screaming, the crying, the green projectile vomit, the shouting priests... Da-da feels dead-tired just thinking about it.

After this washed over Da-da, he thought, "Hey! Da-da's memory is coming back!" (Like Antarctica SLOOOWLY melting.) And then: "No. Da-da can't tell them THAT [the thing he remembered]. Someone might be stupid with it."

Ok, Da-da WILL tell you the secret, but don't be stupid with it. And if you're going to do this, READ EVERYTHING FIRST. THEN READ IT AGAIN. Da-da won't be responsible for you being stupid.

THE most important thing about being a parent of an infant is getting that kid to SLEEP. Kids grow when they sleep, and growth obviates lots of obstacles... and invokes others. Indeed, things like feeding and safety and avoiding zombies are also important, but we want you SANE and reasonably un-zombie-like, and to be a SANE un-zombie-like parent, you need sleep -- and you're not gonna get sleep if your child isn't getting any sleep.

Out of desperation, Da-da invented this thing, which he calls, "The Baby Pendula." Works better than anything else he tried, including those $400 auto-swing things. Why? Because the baby is STARING at you the whole time, wondering what the hell you're doing. Then... by the time the baby's figured it out... BAM: Snooze City.

Before we begin, Da-da will tell you again: don't be stupid with The Baby Pendula. But, if you're going to construct this thing (it's incredibly easy), READ EVERYTHING HERE FIRST. THEN READ IT AGAIN. Da-da will not be responsible for you being stupid. Ok, here we go.


Get a sturdy log carrier from the hardware store. Get one that's nylon (or leather) and strong. Make sure it doesn't have any defects. You'll also need an UBER-soft baby blankie -- but not too plush, as you don't want to asphyxiate your child.


Place the folded blankie over the edges. NOTE: don't pull up the folded ends of the log carrier and tuck the blankie in. I know it seems like you want the baby tucked in there like a log, but doing this might tempt you to swing a little harder, which is something you don't want to do. Here's one Da-da prepared earlier.


Lay the Baby Pendula on the floor, or bed, or somesuch safe soft low surface, and lay the swaddled baby on it -- LONGWAYS, MAURICE -- and MAKE SURE THE BABY HAS BEEN BURRITOED, swaddled, made nicely immobile. You want the baby unable to escape. (Don't laugh maniacally at your parental power and control, because it won't last, and it'll also wake up the baby.) You can indeed use the Baby Pendula with an older unswaddled baby, but be careful that they don't escape or wriggle out. If they're too big, then this won't work (as you'll see), so don't try.

You want the baby centered on the blankie. You might need to scootch the baby a little this way or that to achieve balanced baby equilibrium. While you do this, the baby's gonna be watching you, thinking, "WHAT is this crazy unshaven bastard doing?" Remember: baby's are SMART. Like ma-ma, they're much smarter than you think. Much smarter than YOU (which isn't hard to do if you're Da-da).

Note: NEVER TURN YOUR BACK ON A BABY. That's just what they want you to do.

Anyway, gently tuck the centered, swaddled, drowsy, well-fed, and burped baby between the two sides of the log carrier, and pick up the handles to form a soft baby taco, thus:

Do this over carpet or pillows/blankets/cushions, not over a hardwood floor.

Stand with your feet fairly far apart and swing the baby veeery gently, back and forth, head-first, with both hands in the handles, handles together. You can swing on one side or between your legs, whatever's most comfortable.

NOTE 1: Don't do this over a hardwood floor like Da-da is doing. Do it over carpet or some blankets/pillows, etc. Plan for the baby suddenly escaping/falling out.

Swing like this [see below video], while making that womb-whooshing, "SH-WSH-WSH-WSH-WSH-WSH..." sound. This GENTLE rocking motion and noise will simulate the baby rocking GENTLY inside the womb as ma-ma was walking around thinking how wonderful her life was going to be, pre-birth. Again, be sure to rock the baby over something soft in the off-chance that your child is like a baby Jackie Chan. And again, BE CAREFUL. Da-da would have made and marketed this thing himself, but you just know some drunken, speed-freak bonehead is gonna swing his kid into a vending machine at a bus station and then sue, SUE LIKE THE WIND. No, thanks.

NOTE 2: if the baby's agitated and thrashing around, don't use this thing.

You want a subservient/drowsy/well-fed/swaddled baby as your subject, not a pissed-off radioactive one with laser vision. Also, if the baby isn't asleep after say 30 minutes, you might want to wait a little while before trying again. Jeez, holding the baby swaddled and rocking back and forth, badly singing old Beatles tunes isn't a bad route. Just remember to be BORING. Babies stay awake for DAYS if you're interesting.  


NOTE 3: The BabyPendula does NOT work with older children, like young 900 lb. Bronko here. It's only for babies. Once they become as big as a B-movie frozen turkey, you're just asking for some long-term back injury. And the National Guard.

NOTE 4: Some babies don't like this thing. They don't like unicorns, either. Da-da has no idea why. You'll KNOW if your baby doesn't like it. Babies are good at letting you know. No, really.

NOTE 5: DON'T MAKE THIS THING AND BE STUPID WITH IT! Now that you know about the Baby Pendula... and since Common Sense isn't Common, anymore... Da-da will now state AGAIN that you take all responsibility if you decide to make one of these. Swing your child as if /she were made of the finest, thinnest crystal CONTAINING STRANGELET-NITROGLYCERINE that, at the tiniest BUMP, will explode and rip open the space-time continnuum so badly that giant spiders and huge screaming mother-in-law EYES will stream out of the rift and consume every living thing on the earth until it's a barren fog-enshrouded parking lot full of attorneys. Brrr. Yeah. So there. Be careful, you apes. Watch the video and BE GENTLE, Dracula.

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