There have been several days/nights recently where it has been the All Mama All the Time show again at our house. Ben has been involved with some meetings/groups at school that have had him hopping after school and in the evenings, so it has been up to me to run the kids all day, evening, and night on more than one occasion. Plenty of mamas do this all the time or for far longer stints, and for that, I give them great credit. For me, some days, doing that is a stretch; either my patience or energy runs low and I snap. At least, that is certainly how it was several months ago when we were in the dark place of no sleep.
Currently we're sleeping pretty well (amazingly well by our own standards, actually), minus the fact that RL just refused to take an afternoon nap today (what the what?). Perhaps that is why I've been able to handle these All Day All Me stints with more grace and less yelling. Perhaps the few small changes I've made to my mindset are beginning to take hold. I don't know. But I do know I've been able to slow down a bit more and experience my time with my kids instead of just survive it, and for that, I am most grateful.
All that being said, I was happy to sneak away from the house for 40 minutes yesterday afternoon while Ben was between meetings. He had one break in the day and I gladly took his availability to stay with the kids to take a break for myself. Well, sort of for myself. I used that time to run to the grocery store to get things for our family. Does that count as me time? I think it does because I got to be in public in broad daylight without children which is obviously rare.
After grabbing my list and hopping in the car, I buzzed up to Walmart. On my way, though, I noticed a couple with their dog(s?) at the corner of the access road that leads to the store. We don't have many homeless people that I see all that often in Hastings (although I know they exist), but this is one spot where, every-so-often, you'll find someone with a sign asking for food or work or whatever.
Although I always take note of the person (or people), I have never done anything to help them. We're not in the habit of carrying cash (even though we love Dave Ramsey) and it seems that I always forget to pick up any extras when I'm in Walmart, so it never fails that when I drive by them on my way home, I have nothing to offer by means of help. Yesterday, thanks to the lack of distraction in the form of my two small cuties, I decided I would definitely do something for this couple.
Several weeks ago, I found an idea on Pinterest called Blessings Bags; essentially they were Ziploc bags filled with granola bars, toiletries, and other small items that could be made in bulk and then handed out as needed when out and about. I stuck it under my ideas for Wee Ones, thinking it was something we could do to teach our kids about compassion for others, plus they could also work as donations to our local shelter since, like I said, we don't often run across folks that are obviously homeless. Yesterday, though, I decided I would skip the Ziploc and just round up a few items to put together in a sack from the store that I could hand out the window on my return trip.
My trip through the store was a bit rushed. I didn't have much time since Ben had another meeting to get to, plus I kept thinking, what if they leave?, but I did manage to grab a few extra items along with all those on my grocery list. I got protein bars, toothbrush/floss/toothpaste travel kits, hand sanitizer, and even a bag of treats for the dog(s?). I knew that last one was not essential, but I wanted them to know that I really saw them (even if today I can't remember if it was one or two dogs); just because people are struggling doesn't meant they don't deserve the love of an animal in their lives.
I felt compelled to do something, even a small something, because I know I have been so blessed. Any sort of blessing I can share with another, in a bag, or through an act of kindness, or a smile or whatever, is something that allows me to give back to the world in thanks for what I have received. Ben and I have to make careful choices with our money in order for me to be able to stay home with our kids. One choice we've always made, though, is a giving column in our budget that allows us to give to a church or a social group or school fundraisers or public programs or anyone that just flat out needs it. It is proportiante to our income, so we can't always give as much as we'd like, but we are always happy to give. In turn, I was happy to know that without even running it by him, my husband would fully support the small donation that I made to that couple yesterday afternoon. In total it probably added up to about $15.00 worth of
goods, so nothing much in the grand scheme of things, but hopefully it
was something they could find sustaining, helpful, or at least
thoughtful.
Because I tend to get a little worked up about things (OK, life in general), I was practically shaking when I pulled up to the corner. At first I think they were expecting me, like all the other cars, to just keep rolling past them. Instead, I rolled down my window and leaned forward so the man could see my face. I lifted the bag up from the front seat as he came over to collect it and told him that I hoped he had a nice day. Without even knowing what was in the bag, his face lit up and he thanked me, saying, "Oh, wow. Wow. Thank you. You have a good day, too."
Window up. Stop sign observed. Car rolling forward. That was it. That and the tears I felt welling up in my eyes because, again, I know how very blessed I am in this life.
So here's to loving well, living fully, and making a difference, even when it it is small. I can't wait to do this again, and hopefully the kids will be with me next time; I think that we teach so much by example, and I'm excited for the opportunity to teach Harrison (and his baby sis) about reaching out to others.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
Celebrations! (The Best/Worst Idea)
At the end of last week and over last weekend, Harrison experienced some regression on potty training. That's as far as I'll go into the details, though, in hopes of sparing you the fun and hilarity that Ben and I got to experience in regards to cleaning up that regression. We had no idea what brought on the sudden relapse, but we knew we needed something to get HD back on track. Because really, he's been doing so well, especially considering how long we waited to start and how little time we had between the end of daytime diapers and the start of school.
We are what, seven weeks into preschool now? Not once has Harrison come home in different clothes than what he wore to school. Call me crazy, but I celebrate that every time I go to pick him up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Not out loud, mind you....but in my head, I do a little proud mama happy dance because that's exactly what I am.
So when it came time to devise Motivation, we picked two "prizes" if Harrison could go all day with no accidents. The first was listening to his No.1 favorite music which is currently a CD from VBS that Grandma Deb gave him last year; he hasn't listened to it in a long time but recently rediscovered it and he wants to hear track one on that CD all. the. time. So, that one was easy peasy; no accidents equals listening to Pandamania before supper.
The second reward also came pretty naturally, thanks to Project 137. One of our recent prompts was to always carry birthday candles with us, for one never knows when one might need to celebrate. Fair enough, right? Well, I must confess, I didn't exactly toss a package of candles into my already full diaper bag or purse when I first read this prompt. But I did dig them out of the cupboard Monday night just before supper because I thought that Harrison would love the idea of lighting and blowing out a blue candle stuck in a muffin as part of a dinner celebration of no accidents that day. Side note: if you don't already know this, my son is a huge fan of muffins (and the color blue). Pretty much any day we have muffins is a good day, as far as he is concerned.
Turns out, if you combine muffins and a birthday candle, Harrison is one happy, happy boy! His face was glowing and he clapped and wiggled in his seat while we cheered him on and congratulated him on being accident free for the day. He was so excited that we were celebrating him. And his success. With a muffin! AND a candle!! Best prompt/inspiration ever.
So flash forward to tonight. We've had a good week, especially in terms of potty training. Harrison has made it through every day this week, including through Quiet Time (which is notoriously dangerous territory) and a playdate at our house (which is usually when he gets so distracted with play that he forgets to remember the bathroom in time) with no accidents. Fantastic! Another accident-free day in the books meant our fifth dinner celebration tonight via the candle in the muffin trick. And, because it's been a while since my last post, I decided I wanted to write about Harrison's celebrations and illustrate it with pictures, of course. So I grabbed the camera and got ready to document.
Here is his celebration:
Fun, right?
Well, I also thought it would be fun to get a picture of him with his celebration. So I helped him get into his seat at the table and then set this in front of him. Then I started to fiddle fart with the camera, trying to change the setting so I could get a good shot, all the while telling him to, "Wait, Honey! Just wait. Don't blow it out yet! Waaaaiiiiiiit!"
Hello. The kid is three. Three-year-olds are not well known for their patience or attention spans. So while I was still messing with my camera (why did I change the function to macro to take the dang picture of the muffin?!), he leaned in to investigate the celebration burning brightly in front of him, and before I knew it (or got the 'effin picture that was so darn pressing), he starts hollering, grabbing his face, and crying.
Yep, just when I thought I was going to get my nomination for Mama of the Year (or at least Clever Mama Moment of the Week), I was demoted to Mama Reject (or at least Mama Ditz) for putting a burning candle in front of my preschooler and then expecting him to sit and wait patiently with the ignited flame while I took his picture with said fire. Brilliant, huh?
Thankfully, Harrison was not seriously hurt or burnt. Ben swooped in to grab and blow out the candle and I got an ice pack to help cool off HD's face. I think he just got too close, realized how dang hot the thing was, and freaked out. Now that I think about it, the reaction might have had something to do with their preschool field trip from yesterday to the fire station...but that's OK; I would like my son to be fearful of some things and fire is definitely one thing to be cautious around.
Besides completely failing and freaking out my child, I thought I probably just ruined half of my potty reward program. As he was trying to calm down, Harrison was wiping tears from his face and saying, "I don't want to blow out the candle. I don't want the candle!" almost as if he thought we were going to force him to try it again. Poor kid!
No, Honey....Mama will not stick any more flaming celebrations in your face against your will and then demand you sit with it for a photo opp.
But, the beauty of a three-year-old's attention span may be my saving grace here. In a classic moment of preschooler flip-flop, Harrison then said he wanted the candle again for his celebration. So we lit it one more time, and instead of setting it directly in front of Little Man, Ben held it up and away from him; then, together, the three of us did our best Big Bad Wolf impression and blew it out from a nice, safe distance.
Whew.
We are what, seven weeks into preschool now? Not once has Harrison come home in different clothes than what he wore to school. Call me crazy, but I celebrate that every time I go to pick him up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Not out loud, mind you....but in my head, I do a little proud mama happy dance because that's exactly what I am.
So when it came time to devise Motivation, we picked two "prizes" if Harrison could go all day with no accidents. The first was listening to his No.1 favorite music which is currently a CD from VBS that Grandma Deb gave him last year; he hasn't listened to it in a long time but recently rediscovered it and he wants to hear track one on that CD all. the. time. So, that one was easy peasy; no accidents equals listening to Pandamania before supper.
The second reward also came pretty naturally, thanks to Project 137. One of our recent prompts was to always carry birthday candles with us, for one never knows when one might need to celebrate. Fair enough, right? Well, I must confess, I didn't exactly toss a package of candles into my already full diaper bag or purse when I first read this prompt. But I did dig them out of the cupboard Monday night just before supper because I thought that Harrison would love the idea of lighting and blowing out a blue candle stuck in a muffin as part of a dinner celebration of no accidents that day. Side note: if you don't already know this, my son is a huge fan of muffins (and the color blue). Pretty much any day we have muffins is a good day, as far as he is concerned.
Turns out, if you combine muffins and a birthday candle, Harrison is one happy, happy boy! His face was glowing and he clapped and wiggled in his seat while we cheered him on and congratulated him on being accident free for the day. He was so excited that we were celebrating him. And his success. With a muffin! AND a candle!! Best prompt/inspiration ever.
So flash forward to tonight. We've had a good week, especially in terms of potty training. Harrison has made it through every day this week, including through Quiet Time (which is notoriously dangerous territory) and a playdate at our house (which is usually when he gets so distracted with play that he forgets to remember the bathroom in time) with no accidents. Fantastic! Another accident-free day in the books meant our fifth dinner celebration tonight via the candle in the muffin trick. And, because it's been a while since my last post, I decided I wanted to write about Harrison's celebrations and illustrate it with pictures, of course. So I grabbed the camera and got ready to document.
Here is his celebration:
Well, I also thought it would be fun to get a picture of him with his celebration. So I helped him get into his seat at the table and then set this in front of him. Then I started to fiddle fart with the camera, trying to change the setting so I could get a good shot, all the while telling him to, "Wait, Honey! Just wait. Don't blow it out yet! Waaaaiiiiiiit!"
Hello. The kid is three. Three-year-olds are not well known for their patience or attention spans. So while I was still messing with my camera (why did I change the function to macro to take the dang picture of the muffin?!), he leaned in to investigate the celebration burning brightly in front of him, and before I knew it (or got the 'effin picture that was so darn pressing), he starts hollering, grabbing his face, and crying.
Yep, just when I thought I was going to get my nomination for Mama of the Year (or at least Clever Mama Moment of the Week), I was demoted to Mama Reject (or at least Mama Ditz) for putting a burning candle in front of my preschooler and then expecting him to sit and wait patiently with the ignited flame while I took his picture with said fire. Brilliant, huh?
Thankfully, Harrison was not seriously hurt or burnt. Ben swooped in to grab and blow out the candle and I got an ice pack to help cool off HD's face. I think he just got too close, realized how dang hot the thing was, and freaked out. Now that I think about it, the reaction might have had something to do with their preschool field trip from yesterday to the fire station...but that's OK; I would like my son to be fearful of some things and fire is definitely one thing to be cautious around.
Besides completely failing and freaking out my child, I thought I probably just ruined half of my potty reward program. As he was trying to calm down, Harrison was wiping tears from his face and saying, "I don't want to blow out the candle. I don't want the candle!" almost as if he thought we were going to force him to try it again. Poor kid!
No, Honey....Mama will not stick any more flaming celebrations in your face against your will and then demand you sit with it for a photo opp.
But, the beauty of a three-year-old's attention span may be my saving grace here. In a classic moment of preschooler flip-flop, Harrison then said he wanted the candle again for his celebration. So we lit it one more time, and instead of setting it directly in front of Little Man, Ben held it up and away from him; then, together, the three of us did our best Big Bad Wolf impression and blew it out from a nice, safe distance.
Whew.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
If You're Happy and You Know It...
As part of Project 137, one of our constant reminders to is to come at life, people, and the world-at-large from a place of love. And then assume that all others are doing the same...even the prickly ones. This is hard for a person like me who often takes life and all its moments quite personally, but I am trying and I think I'm even improving. Between P137 and my MOPS book club where we are reading the Power of a Positive Mom, and, let's be honest, some better nights of sleep, I feel my overall attitude and approach lifting.
So imagine my surprise last night when I arrived on campus early to get ready to teach and a woman who works in my building greeted me, in the entryway, with a sarcastic and worried, "Well, you sure look ready for class. Are you OK for class tonight? Do you feel up to it? Are you sure?" Or something along those lines. I honestly can't remember her exact words, but that was the gist of it and the gist is what bothered me.
As she started, I really thought the "You sure look" was going to end with a "ready for Fall" because I had on one of my favorite scarves. Or maybe a "sleek" or "great" or "nice" because I actually had time to straighten and do my hair yesterday. But no, no compliment came and instead I found myself trying to smile, laugh and then defend my overall attitude and demeanor to this person who is pretty much a stranger but felt compelled to ask me such personal questions. "Oh, yes. I'm great. Fully caffeinated, even!" was my response as I tried to just keep moving and get to my classroom so I could get away from her and shake off the whole thing.
This is the same woman who told me, "You look sad" one night last spring when my class was taking a ten minute break. Geez, Lady! Really?! I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by last night's comment based on her previous track record, but why does anyone feel compelled to say such things?
And why does it bother me so much?
Well, last spring, it probably bothered me because it was true. Or at least partly true. I was sad. Or at least very, very tired and very, very stressed which probably equals sad in some way or another. I didn't like that she could see that on my face because, like so many of us, I try to keep that stuff to myself (except for when I write, of course, and then it all comes pouring out).
Last night, it bothered me because I felt I had done nothing "wrong" or "negative". I couldn't understand why she would say this two seconds after I entered the building. Clearly she had watched me walk in from my car by myself, and no, I was not skipping or singing or laughing as I did so, but that makes me look like I'm not happy to be there? Not ready to face the world? In fact, I was pretty darn thrilled to be on campus so early because I had much to do and was grateful to have the time to do it. Plus, just sayin'... my hair looked awesome.
But here's what I realized as I thought about the whole encounter: I am not a goofy-grinned-not-a-care-in-the-world kind of girl. I'm just not. And that's OK. I am a happy person, even if I'm not slapstick about it. I am working on becoming a more positive one, too, which is why I'm going to assume that this woman's misplaced questions come from a place of compassion, not ridicule. The seriousness that people might see in me does not make me broken. It is just a part of me that is lovely as the other parts. My serious side is a reflection of the dedication and purpose I feel in my life. It is part of my drive and my determination.
Last time I checked, those are good attributes to have.
Should I have to defend those attributes to her or you or myself? No. But apparently she's bound and determined to keep pushing me on it, so I will have to keep thinking so I can respond to and approach her in a way that is kind, not reactive. I will also have to keep reminding my (sensitive) self that other people (and especially this woman) neither define me nor determine my outlook on the world. I do.
Even if I don't go around clapping my hands, stomping my feet, or shouting "Hooray!" all the time, I've still got a heart full of love and hope for great things to come. And they do. Every day.
So take that, Miss You Sure Look! (OK - that's neither kind nor nonreactive...see! I told you I needed to keep thinking about that!)
So imagine my surprise last night when I arrived on campus early to get ready to teach and a woman who works in my building greeted me, in the entryway, with a sarcastic and worried, "Well, you sure look ready for class. Are you OK for class tonight? Do you feel up to it? Are you sure?" Or something along those lines. I honestly can't remember her exact words, but that was the gist of it and the gist is what bothered me.
As she started, I really thought the "You sure look" was going to end with a "ready for Fall" because I had on one of my favorite scarves. Or maybe a "sleek" or "great" or "nice" because I actually had time to straighten and do my hair yesterday. But no, no compliment came and instead I found myself trying to smile, laugh and then defend my overall attitude and demeanor to this person who is pretty much a stranger but felt compelled to ask me such personal questions. "Oh, yes. I'm great. Fully caffeinated, even!" was my response as I tried to just keep moving and get to my classroom so I could get away from her and shake off the whole thing.
This is the same woman who told me, "You look sad" one night last spring when my class was taking a ten minute break. Geez, Lady! Really?! I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by last night's comment based on her previous track record, but why does anyone feel compelled to say such things?
And why does it bother me so much?
Well, last spring, it probably bothered me because it was true. Or at least partly true. I was sad. Or at least very, very tired and very, very stressed which probably equals sad in some way or another. I didn't like that she could see that on my face because, like so many of us, I try to keep that stuff to myself (except for when I write, of course, and then it all comes pouring out).
Last night, it bothered me because I felt I had done nothing "wrong" or "negative". I couldn't understand why she would say this two seconds after I entered the building. Clearly she had watched me walk in from my car by myself, and no, I was not skipping or singing or laughing as I did so, but that makes me look like I'm not happy to be there? Not ready to face the world? In fact, I was pretty darn thrilled to be on campus so early because I had much to do and was grateful to have the time to do it. Plus, just sayin'... my hair looked awesome.
But here's what I realized as I thought about the whole encounter: I am not a goofy-grinned-not-a-care-in-the-world kind of girl. I'm just not. And that's OK. I am a happy person, even if I'm not slapstick about it. I am working on becoming a more positive one, too, which is why I'm going to assume that this woman's misplaced questions come from a place of compassion, not ridicule. The seriousness that people might see in me does not make me broken. It is just a part of me that is lovely as the other parts. My serious side is a reflection of the dedication and purpose I feel in my life. It is part of my drive and my determination.
Last time I checked, those are good attributes to have.
Should I have to defend those attributes to her or you or myself? No. But apparently she's bound and determined to keep pushing me on it, so I will have to keep thinking so I can respond to and approach her in a way that is kind, not reactive. I will also have to keep reminding my (sensitive) self that other people (and especially this woman) neither define me nor determine my outlook on the world. I do.
Even if I don't go around clapping my hands, stomping my feet, or shouting "Hooray!" all the time, I've still got a heart full of love and hope for great things to come. And they do. Every day.
So take that, Miss You Sure Look! (OK - that's neither kind nor nonreactive...see! I told you I needed to keep thinking about that!)
Sunday, October 7, 2012
My Little Mountain Goat
For all the run-around that Harrison gave me as a baby and toddler, I must say - he was never a climber or a jumper. Of course he could get up on things, but he was just more content to stay on one level for his daily (I mean day-long) activity. And the lack of jumping? I was honestly beginning to wonder if we had a problem at age two because he still wasn't doing much of it, but now he leaps and hops and flops with the best of them. No worries!
Enter Raegan. While she's still too little for jumping (I should knock on wood, otherwise she'll start doing it tomorrow), she is a climbing machine. Seriously. The child is either part monkey or part mountain goat or perhaps both.
As soon as she was mobile (which was what - six months or before?!), she's been taking the high road. Literally. If she can find a route that includes pulling herself up and over something, she's much happier than to have a wide open path. Pillows, blankets, toys, books, people - doesn't matter. Just give the girl something to climb over and she's good.
And while I'm shocked to report that we still don't have actual walking, I think I understand why. This kid is just a climber. Yes, she's still pulling herself up on things and turning non-walker-toys into walkers on a regular basis. But lately, this is her favorite thing to do:
Notice the pattern? Not only does she love chairs, she loves to get up on them all by herself. Not only does she like to get up on them, she likes to stand on them. See?! She has to be part mountain goat! And of course she is the cutest little mountain goat I've ever seen, but still. She is going to give me heart failure.
My mother-in-law has this famous story about Ben that relates (and also allows me to officially call Raegan His Child as I do whenever the children do something for which I don't want to take credit). Apparently, when Mr. Ben was a mere 18 months old, he climbed a ladder. To the roof! They were outside with him, doing a project and all of the sudden, there he wasn't. Turns out, the little stinker just scooted himself right up on and right on up a ladder that was leaning against their house. Heaven help me! At least he waited until he was 18 months; I have a feeling Raegan's going to end up in the most precarious places well before then....
This is our play constructure. We've had it since June. It was intended to be for Harrison, at least for the first year or so. A couple weeks ago, Ben discovered that Little Miss could navigate the ladder pretty much all on her own. He stands there as a spotter, but she really doesn't need it (well, of course she does, but in her mind, I think she's all, "I GOT this."). Check it out:
See how easy that is for her?!
And then, she pushed a chair over to the wall/little bookcase the other day, to do this:
I guess we had better be pretty darn careful about leaving any ladders up against the house, huh? Otherwise she'll be up on the rooftop, just like her daddy in no time. Did I ever mention that Ben and I come from some highly competitive families? It would so be like our kids to want to beat our records, especially of the really important stuff like rooftop ascension age. ;) Actually, I think we better be pretty darn careful about leaving any sort of climbing leverage anywhere...no surface is going to be safe with this little monkey in the house!
Enter Raegan. While she's still too little for jumping (I should knock on wood, otherwise she'll start doing it tomorrow), she is a climbing machine. Seriously. The child is either part monkey or part mountain goat or perhaps both.
As soon as she was mobile (which was what - six months or before?!), she's been taking the high road. Literally. If she can find a route that includes pulling herself up and over something, she's much happier than to have a wide open path. Pillows, blankets, toys, books, people - doesn't matter. Just give the girl something to climb over and she's good.
And while I'm shocked to report that we still don't have actual walking, I think I understand why. This kid is just a climber. Yes, she's still pulling herself up on things and turning non-walker-toys into walkers on a regular basis. But lately, this is her favorite thing to do:
My mother-in-law has this famous story about Ben that relates (and also allows me to officially call Raegan His Child as I do whenever the children do something for which I don't want to take credit). Apparently, when Mr. Ben was a mere 18 months old, he climbed a ladder. To the roof! They were outside with him, doing a project and all of the sudden, there he wasn't. Turns out, the little stinker just scooted himself right up on and right on up a ladder that was leaning against their house. Heaven help me! At least he waited until he was 18 months; I have a feeling Raegan's going to end up in the most precarious places well before then....
And then, she pushed a chair over to the wall/little bookcase the other day, to do this:
Monday, October 1, 2012
In the Woods
So it has almost been two months since we did the whole Sleep Shuffle thing with Raegan. I have to say, in two months, we've come a long way in improving our quality of sleep and quality of life. That being said, I'm beginning to wonder if my house/family is just always going to be running a little bit on Tired....
The Shuffle itself took about two weeks. After that, Raegan was an absolute Rock Star putting herself to bed at night AND at nap time as well. ROCK STAR. We still had night wakenings there for a while, but those rapidly diminished in frequency and intensity, which was great.
Now Raegan did lose some weight during that time which kind of freaked out one of our local lactation consultants, but really, it makes sense. 1) I wasn't nursing every 2-3 hours all night, every night (which, I refuse to feel bad about considering RL was a 10-mo-old at the time, not a newborn!) 2) She moves All. The. Time. It was remarkable that she gained any weight this summer; losing a little bit hasn't seemed to bothered her at all. We've since stepped up the solids and she appears to be just fine.
The real problem, after sleep training RL to put herself to sleep (and back to sleep during the night) was that she started waking up really freaking early every morning. Like 5:00 a.m. early. And did I mention she was screaming as soon as she awoke? All the books say not to get the kiddo up before 6:00 at the very earliest, so there were some mornings we endured a lot of unhappy baby before "officially" starting our day. Not fun. Harrison would often get up during this time, too, so once again we all started walking around a bit like zombies. We tried putting her down later but no dice. She would still wake early and pissed, and then she was running on even less sleep the next day because of the later bed time which made her day sleep harder to figure out as well. And so on and so on for a few weeks. Not a fun cycle.
Then, a couple weeks ago, Raegen started stretching closer to rising at 6:00. Brilliant! We were loving it. A couple days she even made it to our magic goal time of 6:30. Even more Brilliant! Even more loving it!
Around this same time, though, Harrison decided to revisit his old Jack-in-the-box habits from shortly after Baby Sis was born and started coming in our room at all hours of the night. As in, we are now back to the two, sometimes three, visits from him on a lot of nights. Sometime Ben can just walk him back and be done with it. Other times HD wants to go to the bathroom (Side Note: for the life of him, he will not pee in his diaper at night. I know this is a good thing. I know this is the ultimate goal of potty training. But for the Love of Pete, please just stay asleep in your bed and pee in your diaper so I can stay asleep, too!). And then on the other-other times, he wants to get really upset and have a mid-night-melt-down for reasons we really can't determine.
Ugh. Once again, I am SO tired. Whereas Ben can often just fall back to sleep after any and all of these little incidents, I often get woken up completely and have to do all of the (for me, rather hard) work of falling back asleep. So at best I'm back to getting two-to-three-to-sometimes-four hours of sleep in a row. Mama needs MORE!
To top of the sleep mayhem, Raegan has quit being a happy-go-to-sleep-er. Just in the last week she has decided that she needs to be mad Mad MAD before bed, especially, and often before nap as well. I have no idea why this changed. Before she was honestly going down often without a peep. Sometimes the "peeps" now last as long as 25 or 30 minutes which is longer than when we first started sleep training.
Again, Ugh.
I apologize. I don't mean to complain and really I'm not trying to do that here. I wanted to update those of you who have been with us through our sleep struggles and let you know that while we've made progress, we're not out of the woods yet. Something tells me one never leaves the woods - they just keep changing. But isn't that parenthood in general? Just when you think you've got something figured out, the kid changes and it is once again, Day One.
The Shuffle itself took about two weeks. After that, Raegan was an absolute Rock Star putting herself to bed at night AND at nap time as well. ROCK STAR. We still had night wakenings there for a while, but those rapidly diminished in frequency and intensity, which was great.
Now Raegan did lose some weight during that time which kind of freaked out one of our local lactation consultants, but really, it makes sense. 1) I wasn't nursing every 2-3 hours all night, every night (which, I refuse to feel bad about considering RL was a 10-mo-old at the time, not a newborn!) 2) She moves All. The. Time. It was remarkable that she gained any weight this summer; losing a little bit hasn't seemed to bothered her at all. We've since stepped up the solids and she appears to be just fine.
The real problem, after sleep training RL to put herself to sleep (and back to sleep during the night) was that she started waking up really freaking early every morning. Like 5:00 a.m. early. And did I mention she was screaming as soon as she awoke? All the books say not to get the kiddo up before 6:00 at the very earliest, so there were some mornings we endured a lot of unhappy baby before "officially" starting our day. Not fun. Harrison would often get up during this time, too, so once again we all started walking around a bit like zombies. We tried putting her down later but no dice. She would still wake early and pissed, and then she was running on even less sleep the next day because of the later bed time which made her day sleep harder to figure out as well. And so on and so on for a few weeks. Not a fun cycle.
Then, a couple weeks ago, Raegen started stretching closer to rising at 6:00. Brilliant! We were loving it. A couple days she even made it to our magic goal time of 6:30. Even more Brilliant! Even more loving it!
Around this same time, though, Harrison decided to revisit his old Jack-in-the-box habits from shortly after Baby Sis was born and started coming in our room at all hours of the night. As in, we are now back to the two, sometimes three, visits from him on a lot of nights. Sometime Ben can just walk him back and be done with it. Other times HD wants to go to the bathroom (Side Note: for the life of him, he will not pee in his diaper at night. I know this is a good thing. I know this is the ultimate goal of potty training. But for the Love of Pete, please just stay asleep in your bed and pee in your diaper so I can stay asleep, too!). And then on the other-other times, he wants to get really upset and have a mid-night-melt-down for reasons we really can't determine.
Ugh. Once again, I am SO tired. Whereas Ben can often just fall back to sleep after any and all of these little incidents, I often get woken up completely and have to do all of the (for me, rather hard) work of falling back asleep. So at best I'm back to getting two-to-three-to-sometimes-four hours of sleep in a row. Mama needs MORE!
To top of the sleep mayhem, Raegan has quit being a happy-go-to-sleep-er. Just in the last week she has decided that she needs to be mad Mad MAD before bed, especially, and often before nap as well. I have no idea why this changed. Before she was honestly going down often without a peep. Sometimes the "peeps" now last as long as 25 or 30 minutes which is longer than when we first started sleep training.
Again, Ugh.
I apologize. I don't mean to complain and really I'm not trying to do that here. I wanted to update those of you who have been with us through our sleep struggles and let you know that while we've made progress, we're not out of the woods yet. Something tells me one never leaves the woods - they just keep changing. But isn't that parenthood in general? Just when you think you've got something figured out, the kid changes and it is once again, Day One.
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