One of the best, most true pieces of advice a friend ever gave me when Harrison was born was this: just when you think you know what's going on, the baby changes. Thanks, MB, for that because, wow, has it helped me a lot in the last four years to not totally freak out when my world has been tipped upside down (again and again and again) by the ever changing stages of babyhood (and toddlerhood and prekhood). I am a big believer of strength and comfort in numbers, so knowing that my baby is not the only in constant flux (duh, but still needed to hear and learn it) matters. Especially since that first baby has now added a little sister and a little brother in the years since. And today is the little brother's turn in the spotlight.
Over the weekend, I decided to do little update posts on the kiddos. It seemed like a nice way to get my mind off sleep while filling y'all in on the cuteness and fun that is just as much a part of our daily lives as is the crazy and chaos. I started with Mr. Harrison and proceeded in birth order from there, but that was done in part because I've been trying to figure out what to say for Lincoln. What hasn't been going on with that kid lately?
95% of the time, Lincoln is still Mr. Chill - the laid back baby who is content to wiggle on his belly on the floor, watching his brother and sister play around him. He's a strong dude but I still don't trust him to sit up by himself unsupported. He loves his exersaucer and America, too (sorry, little T.Petty reference for my Yankee Doodle boy). His neck and chin are ticklish, so when I bend my face to his and give him funny sniffs or kisses, he gives me the best non-laughs ever. No, really. Have you seen the facebook videos? His laugh is hysterical. It's like an intake of air grunt/squawk thing that is clearly a delighted sound but unlike any other laugh I have ever heard! All in all, Lincoln is my Love; I love to snuggle him and smell him and the quiet moments we get together nursing or before his naps are awesome.
5% of the time, Lincoln is beyond my comprehension. Of course, this 5% is comprised of his sleep. Actually, his sleep takes up far more than 5% of our days and nights, but I'm weighing it lightly against the rest of his lovely personality and disposition because even with the crappy sleep I'm about to explain, I stand by my previous Lincoln in my Love declaration. But yea...his sleep is as crappy as mine lately. OK, time for another actually. Actually, at night he's doing pretty well. Goes to bed at the same time as the big kids and sleeps well into the night, most nights, before needing to be fed. And most of the time, he goes back down after that. Except for when he cries and cries or if it is in the 5s and then, well, you're just SOL on that one.
Lately, though, it would be the transitions of Lincoln's day sleep that that is the most baffling. Several weeks ago he decided he was done with three naps; boom, just like that, he wouldn't do it any more. And for a wee bit (like five days), this seemed like a good thing. Suddenly he was sleeping longer than 40 minutes for his two naps and sometimes the afternoon one was even as long as - gasp! - two hours!! Pretty awesome. But then this last week, on top of my own exhaustion, he decided to go back to the 40 minute (or less) naps, but still just the two. So, holy red-rimmed-eyed baby by the end of the day! And holy stress-seeping-into-my-shoulders-making-them-climb-to-my-ears me from listening to him fuss, hoping he'd go back to sleep! Not fun. So not, not fun. And can you guess what he did this weekend? Went back to taking the longer naps again. What the huh? I'm officially stumped, but am crossing my fingers that he'll continue with the elongated afternoon rests. HD and I could use the rest!
The other positive backwards trend for LT is at the table. After throwing holy terror fits about eating solids, after a great week and a half to start, he is back to doing just fine with his baby oatmeal, sweet potatoes and squash. I don't know what I will try making next for him, but I am so glad he's not flat out refusing the food/spoon anymore (or at least not right now). Hopefully this will pay off on the scale when I take him in for his March weight. He feels solid and looks (sort of) chunky (to me), so maybe he has gained a bit, eh?
So there you have it. The ever-growing, ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-sweet Lincoln Thomas. Oh! And he has the best little baby mohawk going. So fun!
Sunday, February 23, 2014
A Quiet Mind
Early last week, I hopped in our van to go to an appointment and the darn thing wouldn't start. Fortunately it was just a dead battery (thank you, RL, for messing with the interior lights when you are supposed to be getting in your seat to get buckled!). Unfortunately, when Ben jumped it for me, he fried some fuses or something and now neither our key fob nor the radio will work when I push them. That means for the last handful of days, I've been driving around in silence. Well, not when the kids are with me, of course, but when I'm on my way to an appointment or solo errand or yoga, it's just me and the road noise. No NPR or music to distract me; no dial to flip to get to a song I actually like. Nothing. (Side Note: if you ask my dad, this is probably a relief. I'm pretty sure I terrified him when I was learning how to drive because I was so infatuated with the radio. What can I say? I'm a (shh! pop) music lover!)
A few days into the no-music-van debacle and it occurred to me that I have been in constant search of quiet. All day long, I am looking for a minute to myself where no one is asking something of me, or requesting my presence (be it physical, mental, or emotional). All day long, I am constantly after the big kids to keep it down so Lincoln can nurse or be even more quiet so Lincoln can nap. Shhh, shhh, shhh. All day long, I strive for silence. But as you can imagine, I have never really gotten it. Until now. And now, this sudden silence has made me realize: I sort of suck at being quiet. It is like I have no idea what to do with it.
I can't even tell you how many times I've punched that button on the dash, trying to make it make some noise. I've spun the volume and fiddled with my presets, too, hoping against hope that some sound will come out, but clearly the thing is shot. My frustration and fascination with all this has lead me to wonder, why I am so bad at quiet? Do I really not know how to be alone in my head anymore? It then clicked for me that is exactly why I started walking last fall (which I hope to pick back up when it gets warm - C'mon, Spring!) and got back on the yoga mat; and it all comes back to my problems falling asleep at night, too.
For one thing, I can't trust the quiet at night. My over wired brain is so sure that someone is going to make noise or wake me up as soon as I zonk out and so I can't zonk out. For another, bedtime is usually the first time for the entire day that I've really been allowed to be quiet and in my own head and it's like my mind goes: WHOOHOO! I've got you now! Let's roll with 500 thoughts at 500 mph, for HOURS! Clearly I need some calm and some quiet (preferably before bed).
As you probably know, I've tried about a million different things to help my racing mind and lack of sleep in the last few months. And, among other efforts, the next step is to try to improve what is part of my regular yoga practice: meditation. Whenever I attend a class, we always end with savasana or corpse pose: 10-ish minutes at the end of class to be still on the floor and just be. I am terrible at it. I mean, I can lie there with my eyes closed just fine, but just be? Nuh-uh. My mind is all over the place, from grocery lists to you name it. I need so. much. practice! So that's what I intend to do. I intend to practice and I will learn and I will eventually be able to meditate. Perhaps then I'll be able to sleep, too.
To start, I got on Amazon last week and ordered my first book on meditation. It is called, much like this blog post, Quiet Mind: A Beginner's Guide to Meditation and includes "six simple practices presented by leading Buddhist teachers" (and a CD, to boot). I haven't tried it yet, but plan to give it a go starting tonight. I'm hoping that one or more of them will resonate with me and can become something I can use in my day-to-days so my night-to-nights improve as well.
To help me along the way, I've also decided to quit reading when I do my beloved Legs up the Wall pose. I try to do this for at least 15-20 minutes every day, but because I don't get many chunks of time for myself these days, I've started combining leg time with reading time. With a book held over my face, those minutes click right on by and my back and my immune system and my book lover soul all get some nourishment. But reading is not being quiet in my head, so this is an easy way to start adding quiet to my days. I tried it this afternoon and I have to say, at least I made it eight minutes before I checked my phone to see how much time had passed, but wow - it is not easy for me to just sit!
Do you meditate? If so, how? I'm so curious to learn more in terms of practice and benefits. Please share if you have any experience with such!
A few days into the no-music-van debacle and it occurred to me that I have been in constant search of quiet. All day long, I am looking for a minute to myself where no one is asking something of me, or requesting my presence (be it physical, mental, or emotional). All day long, I am constantly after the big kids to keep it down so Lincoln can nurse or be even more quiet so Lincoln can nap. Shhh, shhh, shhh. All day long, I strive for silence. But as you can imagine, I have never really gotten it. Until now. And now, this sudden silence has made me realize: I sort of suck at being quiet. It is like I have no idea what to do with it.
I can't even tell you how many times I've punched that button on the dash, trying to make it make some noise. I've spun the volume and fiddled with my presets, too, hoping against hope that some sound will come out, but clearly the thing is shot. My frustration and fascination with all this has lead me to wonder, why I am so bad at quiet? Do I really not know how to be alone in my head anymore? It then clicked for me that is exactly why I started walking last fall (which I hope to pick back up when it gets warm - C'mon, Spring!) and got back on the yoga mat; and it all comes back to my problems falling asleep at night, too.
For one thing, I can't trust the quiet at night. My over wired brain is so sure that someone is going to make noise or wake me up as soon as I zonk out and so I can't zonk out. For another, bedtime is usually the first time for the entire day that I've really been allowed to be quiet and in my own head and it's like my mind goes: WHOOHOO! I've got you now! Let's roll with 500 thoughts at 500 mph, for HOURS! Clearly I need some calm and some quiet (preferably before bed).
As you probably know, I've tried about a million different things to help my racing mind and lack of sleep in the last few months. And, among other efforts, the next step is to try to improve what is part of my regular yoga practice: meditation. Whenever I attend a class, we always end with savasana or corpse pose: 10-ish minutes at the end of class to be still on the floor and just be. I am terrible at it. I mean, I can lie there with my eyes closed just fine, but just be? Nuh-uh. My mind is all over the place, from grocery lists to you name it. I need so. much. practice! So that's what I intend to do. I intend to practice and I will learn and I will eventually be able to meditate. Perhaps then I'll be able to sleep, too.
To start, I got on Amazon last week and ordered my first book on meditation. It is called, much like this blog post, Quiet Mind: A Beginner's Guide to Meditation and includes "six simple practices presented by leading Buddhist teachers" (and a CD, to boot). I haven't tried it yet, but plan to give it a go starting tonight. I'm hoping that one or more of them will resonate with me and can become something I can use in my day-to-days so my night-to-nights improve as well.
To help me along the way, I've also decided to quit reading when I do my beloved Legs up the Wall pose. I try to do this for at least 15-20 minutes every day, but because I don't get many chunks of time for myself these days, I've started combining leg time with reading time. With a book held over my face, those minutes click right on by and my back and my immune system and my book lover soul all get some nourishment. But reading is not being quiet in my head, so this is an easy way to start adding quiet to my days. I tried it this afternoon and I have to say, at least I made it eight minutes before I checked my phone to see how much time had passed, but wow - it is not easy for me to just sit!
Do you meditate? If so, how? I'm so curious to learn more in terms of practice and benefits. Please share if you have any experience with such!
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Potty/Mouth
Oh, Miss Raegan. How you delight, amaze, and challenge us on a daily basis. Life with our Sweet Miss is in that really fun toddler stage where they can do quite a bit on their own (and in her case, insist upon such!) and you can actually trust them to do a lot of it by themselves. We are also in what I will call the High/Low of toddlerhood where we can go from happy to sad to happy to sad in the span of two minutes or less, which is usually the result of a following exchange:
RL: Me want Crispees (Cripex).
Me: You want more Crispex?
RL: No. *tears*
Me: You don't want more Crispex? You're done?
RL. No. Me want more Crispees. No Crispees! *tears*
Me: No more Crispees. OK.
RL: YES! Crispees!
Me. *gives Crispees!*
RL: *tears* Crispeeeeeeeeeees! (is this because I gave them to her or didn't or what? seriously. can't keep up.)
Me. *tears* (just kidding. High/Low gives me whiplash but has yet to reduce me to tears.)
And trust me when I say, I'm not exaggerating that for you; that scene plays out in a hundred different ways every week. But eventually we sort it all out and get her what she wants (doesn't want?) and we move on with life. Also moving on in RL's world? The potty progress!
As you may remember, Baby Girl decided on her second birthday that she was going to start using the potty. This was highly unexpected and was highly messy and honestly highly bothersome for quite some time. Finally, in the last couple weeks, we hit a smooth patch where she is actually consistently listening to her body and getting herself to the bathroom on time and - get this - I can feel (fairly, sort of, a little) confident leaving the house with her in undies! WhooHoo! And again - this is all her. I would have never even bothered potty training what with everything else going on in our world right now, but RL had other plans. May all of her independent streaks be so productive! ;)
The other delight of Life with a Two is, of course, the language. I love, love, love listening to a Little learn to speak and Raegge has not failed to deliver in this regard. As for the family, she's got us covered: Ben is Daddy, I am Mommy (why? I am Mama, but she's calling me Mommy; we'll work on that), Brudder has become Heh-i-sun, and Winkun is still Winkun or Winky; it's all very, very sweet. Oh, and when my parents visit, Mara is Mar-na which we all love! And just like the potty progress, her speaking has really taken off in the last few weeks. She was talking a lot prior to that, but suddenly we've got full phrases and sentences popping out all over the place and it's just fun. Here are some of the highlights of Raegan-ese:
* Take the "tr" out of "truck" and replace it with "fw" and you have quite the loud word being yelled at quite loud volumes, quite often. Actually, this got better for a few months but all of the sudden, it's back. Oh, truck!
* "Mama. Ihaffaqueshton" She must listen to her brother. A lot. Because Harrison says to me, a lot: "Mama, I have a question." :)
* MenkYou & WelkUm - the sweetest version of toddler manners you've ever heard, and hilarious because she says it all as one phrase. You give her something she asks for and she responds, "MenkYou(short pause)WelkUm" all the time.
* Fingees. Raegan's digits are not her fingers. They are her fingees.
* ME DO IT! Seriously. What two-yr-old doesn't use this phrase all the time? But wow, my little peanut is quite independent. She likes to dress herself, feed herself, sing by herself - she can do it all! And in case you don't quite hear her when she hollers ME DO IT! at you, she'll put her hand up in the stop motion to clarify.
* DaddyMissaMe. I heard this a lot last fall whenever Ben hit a streak of meetings and was gone for long days. She would wake up from a nap and when she found out that Daddy was in fact not at home yet, she would dissolve in tears and sob, "DaddyMissaMe! DaddyMissaMe!" And I would hold her and say, "Of course he does, Honey. Daddy misses you! And you miss him, too."
* Seek-a-boo! This is one of my favorites. I love when she hides and then calls out, "SEEK-a-Boo!"
What's next on the docket for The World According to Raegan? No idea. But you can best believe it will be both amazing and adorable, just like her.
RL: Me want Crispees (Cripex).
Me: You want more Crispex?
RL: No. *tears*
Me: You don't want more Crispex? You're done?
RL. No. Me want more Crispees. No Crispees! *tears*
Me: No more Crispees. OK.
RL: YES! Crispees!
Me. *gives Crispees!*
RL: *tears* Crispeeeeeeeeeees! (is this because I gave them to her or didn't or what? seriously. can't keep up.)
Me. *tears* (just kidding. High/Low gives me whiplash but has yet to reduce me to tears.)
And trust me when I say, I'm not exaggerating that for you; that scene plays out in a hundred different ways every week. But eventually we sort it all out and get her what she wants (doesn't want?) and we move on with life. Also moving on in RL's world? The potty progress!
As you may remember, Baby Girl decided on her second birthday that she was going to start using the potty. This was highly unexpected and was highly messy and honestly highly bothersome for quite some time. Finally, in the last couple weeks, we hit a smooth patch where she is actually consistently listening to her body and getting herself to the bathroom on time and - get this - I can feel (fairly, sort of, a little) confident leaving the house with her in undies! WhooHoo! And again - this is all her. I would have never even bothered potty training what with everything else going on in our world right now, but RL had other plans. May all of her independent streaks be so productive! ;)
The other delight of Life with a Two is, of course, the language. I love, love, love listening to a Little learn to speak and Raegge has not failed to deliver in this regard. As for the family, she's got us covered: Ben is Daddy, I am Mommy (why? I am Mama, but she's calling me Mommy; we'll work on that), Brudder has become Heh-i-sun, and Winkun is still Winkun or Winky; it's all very, very sweet. Oh, and when my parents visit, Mara is Mar-na which we all love! And just like the potty progress, her speaking has really taken off in the last few weeks. She was talking a lot prior to that, but suddenly we've got full phrases and sentences popping out all over the place and it's just fun. Here are some of the highlights of Raegan-ese:
* Take the "tr" out of "truck" and replace it with "fw" and you have quite the loud word being yelled at quite loud volumes, quite often. Actually, this got better for a few months but all of the sudden, it's back. Oh, truck!
* "Mama. Ihaffaqueshton" She must listen to her brother. A lot. Because Harrison says to me, a lot: "Mama, I have a question." :)
* MenkYou & WelkUm - the sweetest version of toddler manners you've ever heard, and hilarious because she says it all as one phrase. You give her something she asks for and she responds, "MenkYou(short pause)WelkUm" all the time.
* Fingees. Raegan's digits are not her fingers. They are her fingees.
* ME DO IT! Seriously. What two-yr-old doesn't use this phrase all the time? But wow, my little peanut is quite independent. She likes to dress herself, feed herself, sing by herself - she can do it all! And in case you don't quite hear her when she hollers ME DO IT! at you, she'll put her hand up in the stop motion to clarify.
* DaddyMissaMe. I heard this a lot last fall whenever Ben hit a streak of meetings and was gone for long days. She would wake up from a nap and when she found out that Daddy was in fact not at home yet, she would dissolve in tears and sob, "DaddyMissaMe! DaddyMissaMe!" And I would hold her and say, "Of course he does, Honey. Daddy misses you! And you miss him, too."
* Seek-a-boo! This is one of my favorites. I love when she hides and then calls out, "SEEK-a-Boo!"
What's next on the docket for The World According to Raegan? No idea. But you can best believe it will be both amazing and adorable, just like her.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Love Fest
So I'm sure some of you are wondering about a sleep update (you kind, kind souls), but that's not the intent behind this post. I'm sick of thinking and talking and writing about sleep, so for now, I'm tabling it and trying to focus on other things. The good things (that alone is enough of an update, hmm?). The three little things full of love who make the sleepless nights and foggy days bearable (and challenging, too, of course). So today I'm starting with Harrison, my four-and-a-half ball of rough and tumble energy and so much love.
Of course it is not news to tell you that my kids are active. You already know this. Lately, HD's active little self has turned into a pinball of sorts, randomly bouncing off of people and furniture and walls and you name it. He just spins and ricochets, repeat, repeat, repeat. Now this might not seem like a love story, but it bears mentioning because it was a habit that was quickly starting to drive me bonkers and we had to find a way to redirect it for good. I didn't like being a buffer in his pinball machine, and yet I seemed to be a favorite target, so I started thinking about what was really driving this behavior. Call me crazy, but my best guess was that he was looking for attention. And affection. And why not? I'm busy nursing and feeding and potty training and napping and all the other Things that happen every single day, all day long, for the other kids, so it makes sense that my little preKer started to feel left out. So he started spinning and ricocheting, repeat, repeat, repeat. I may be sleep deprived, but even I know that if he's literally bouncing off the walls to get my attention and my affection, the least I can do is respond with some extra love. Rather than scold for bumping or pushing him away, I decided to meet him head on when he began bouncing, calling out the phrase, "Bumper Cars!" and sweeping him into a great big squeeze.
He loves it. Absolutely loves it. Now, he'll start spinning and call out, "Bumper Cars!" with this high note trailing off the final syllable, almost like saying, "Come and get me!" in a happy, sing-song voice. While he doesn't always have the best timing (my hands are usually full or I'm busy doing some task, typically in the kitchen), I'm trying to meet this need for him so he doesn't take the spinning and bouncing too far. Usually, if I can acknowledge it sooner than later, he moves on to other things. And lately, a lot of those things (when they aren't playing with his Angry Birds figurines) are adding up to be a true love fest.
Harrison is doing such a great job lately of caring for and about his brother and sister. Not that sibling rivalry has ever been an issue, but I love watching him love them. It's hugs and kisses and then more hugs and kisses before leaving for school in the morning. It's telling Lincoln that it's OK when LT is crying, or helping me grab a burp rag or a toy when I need an assist. It's encouraging Raegan when they are playing or when she's trying to copy him (which happens all. the. time!). And while it feels like I put out a hundred fires a day over who gets this toy or who gets to pick the show to watch, etc., etc., ad nauseam, seeing and feeling the love between them always wins.
I'm also touched by the love HD shows me on a constant basis. Maybe there is some truth to the phrase "Love rolls downhill" because I try to tell him as many times as I can that I love him no matter what (even when I am totally pissed about spilled milk - or as was the case Wednesday, spilled baby oatmeal made with breast milk that happened in the thirty seconds I was away from the table getting yogurt for Little Sis, but I digress) and clearly the message is getting through. When I squeeze him and say, "I am so glad you're my Harrison" he squeezes back and says, "I'm so glad you're my mama." When he comes in to see me in bed in the morning, he puts an arm around my shoulders or my neck and leans in to kiss the top of my head or my back or whatever he can reach, just like I do when I give him quick little love. He even makes the "Mmmmmwah!" squeeze sound when he does this, which is an added bonus of cute and sweet. But my favorite part of the love fest is that he has started bringing me his beloved Cow in the mornings. That animal is his first and forever favorite and so I feel most honored that he is willing to share it and I gladly cuddle up with Cow tucked under my chin, just like HD does every night.
And even though I am shot and exhausted and all round spent most days, all of these little moments add up and make up for the messes and the whining and all the other less-than-rosy moments of living with a Four (and a Two and a Less than One). And, pardon me while I get even mushier, but I can see in the moments when I look at Harrison and think, You're so big! When did you get so big?! that he'll be 14 before I know it and sharing Cow and kisses on top of my head will probably be long gone. And yet I hope the love fest will continue in some form, which, if that love just keeps on rolling down the hill, perhaps it will. And that's my plan - to just keep on telling him how happy he makes my heart. Love you, Buddy!
Of course it is not news to tell you that my kids are active. You already know this. Lately, HD's active little self has turned into a pinball of sorts, randomly bouncing off of people and furniture and walls and you name it. He just spins and ricochets, repeat, repeat, repeat. Now this might not seem like a love story, but it bears mentioning because it was a habit that was quickly starting to drive me bonkers and we had to find a way to redirect it for good. I didn't like being a buffer in his pinball machine, and yet I seemed to be a favorite target, so I started thinking about what was really driving this behavior. Call me crazy, but my best guess was that he was looking for attention. And affection. And why not? I'm busy nursing and feeding and potty training and napping and all the other Things that happen every single day, all day long, for the other kids, so it makes sense that my little preKer started to feel left out. So he started spinning and ricocheting, repeat, repeat, repeat. I may be sleep deprived, but even I know that if he's literally bouncing off the walls to get my attention and my affection, the least I can do is respond with some extra love. Rather than scold for bumping or pushing him away, I decided to meet him head on when he began bouncing, calling out the phrase, "Bumper Cars!" and sweeping him into a great big squeeze.
He loves it. Absolutely loves it. Now, he'll start spinning and call out, "Bumper Cars!" with this high note trailing off the final syllable, almost like saying, "Come and get me!" in a happy, sing-song voice. While he doesn't always have the best timing (my hands are usually full or I'm busy doing some task, typically in the kitchen), I'm trying to meet this need for him so he doesn't take the spinning and bouncing too far. Usually, if I can acknowledge it sooner than later, he moves on to other things. And lately, a lot of those things (when they aren't playing with his Angry Birds figurines) are adding up to be a true love fest.
Harrison is doing such a great job lately of caring for and about his brother and sister. Not that sibling rivalry has ever been an issue, but I love watching him love them. It's hugs and kisses and then more hugs and kisses before leaving for school in the morning. It's telling Lincoln that it's OK when LT is crying, or helping me grab a burp rag or a toy when I need an assist. It's encouraging Raegan when they are playing or when she's trying to copy him (which happens all. the. time!). And while it feels like I put out a hundred fires a day over who gets this toy or who gets to pick the show to watch, etc., etc., ad nauseam, seeing and feeling the love between them always wins.
I'm also touched by the love HD shows me on a constant basis. Maybe there is some truth to the phrase "Love rolls downhill" because I try to tell him as many times as I can that I love him no matter what (even when I am totally pissed about spilled milk - or as was the case Wednesday, spilled baby oatmeal made with breast milk that happened in the thirty seconds I was away from the table getting yogurt for Little Sis, but I digress) and clearly the message is getting through. When I squeeze him and say, "I am so glad you're my Harrison" he squeezes back and says, "I'm so glad you're my mama." When he comes in to see me in bed in the morning, he puts an arm around my shoulders or my neck and leans in to kiss the top of my head or my back or whatever he can reach, just like I do when I give him quick little love. He even makes the "Mmmmmwah!" squeeze sound when he does this, which is an added bonus of cute and sweet. But my favorite part of the love fest is that he has started bringing me his beloved Cow in the mornings. That animal is his first and forever favorite and so I feel most honored that he is willing to share it and I gladly cuddle up with Cow tucked under my chin, just like HD does every night.
And even though I am shot and exhausted and all round spent most days, all of these little moments add up and make up for the messes and the whining and all the other less-than-rosy moments of living with a Four (and a Two and a Less than One). And, pardon me while I get even mushier, but I can see in the moments when I look at Harrison and think, You're so big! When did you get so big?! that he'll be 14 before I know it and sharing Cow and kisses on top of my head will probably be long gone. And yet I hope the love fest will continue in some form, which, if that love just keeps on rolling down the hill, perhaps it will. And that's my plan - to just keep on telling him how happy he makes my heart. Love you, Buddy!
Monday, February 17, 2014
Welcome Back, Mr. Coffee
I am in sleep hell. Actually, I am in no-sleep hell. *sigh* Trust me, I wish I had something else to write about right now, but unfortunately poor sleep is still the headlining news from our house.
Thanks to Operation Bottle Warmer last week, I did get in several nights of sustained, uninterrupted sleep in our guest room. Talk about necessary. Mandatory, even. But then this weekend came and ForTheLoveofPete, all that progress went right out the window.
I don't know what in the world is going on with my sweet-as-can-be and normally totally chill Mr. Lincoln, but he is having what we'll call a "helluva time" with sleep right now. Lincoln! Listen to your mama!! Now is not the time to become a crappy sleeper. I'm sorry, Baby, but I'm declaring an expiration date by which a baby either is or is not a good sleeper and you've already passed that and picked the good. Do not be swayed by the Dark Side. Trust me. It's not a fun place to be! And your daddy and I do not want to go the Dark Side with you anymore. Two of the last three nights have been dark enough, thank you very much.
The first set back was Friday night. LT was up to nurse about three hours after we went to bed and then, instead of just going back to sleep like he normally does, he cried. FOR TWO HOURS STRAIGHT, he cried. We tried changing him (diaper, clothes, sleep sack, sheets) and letting him work it out and finally, a little after 3:00, gave up and I nursed him again. After that he was still making noise for a bit in his crib, but get this - he was cooing. After two hours of screaming, he was freaking cooing! Once that stopped, we had roughly two-ish hours to go before Harrison would be up for the day and wouldn't you know it, I super struggled to go back down. I kept imagining that I was hearing things (i.e. the big kids) or then Ben would move next to me and I'd startle and just in general, my mind was racing like a crazy person's. But at least it was Saturday and I could go back to sleep after the boys went downstairs a little after six and get a couple more hours of disjointed crazy-dream sleep. Today I am not so lucky. Today I have to function on three hours of sleep because that's all I got amidst Lincoln's antics last night.
OK, so I can't blame the baby for the whole night. I can only blame him for the first two-thirds of it. After going to bed nice and early (but still taking too long to fall asleep), Lincoln had me up to nurse at 11, just as I was ready to hit some nice, deep sleep. So that sucked. But what sucked even more was that he was up again a little over three hours later like he's a newborn again or something. And because I didn't think my head or my heart or my body could stand another potential two-hour cry fest, I nursed him again (even though my better judgment fears this is the start of a very slippery slope). But in the moment, it worked, or at least it did for LT; he and Ben both went right back to sleep. I did not. So at 4 something I came downstairs to try to sleep down here, but hello racing-minute-counting-couldn't-go-back-to-sleep-head. And a sore throat to boot. In other words, I am a hot mess. And so are all of my boys. Apparently HD was up at 5 this morning (and 5:20 and 5:30) and then LT was up again at 5:45. WHAT is wrong with us? Why is Raegan the only person capable of sleep in this house? How am I going to survive on three hours of sleep today? Especially when I only got four-ish pieced together hours on Friday? I think it is safe to say that the no-caffeinated coffee days are over.
Thanks to Operation Bottle Warmer last week, I did get in several nights of sustained, uninterrupted sleep in our guest room. Talk about necessary. Mandatory, even. But then this weekend came and ForTheLoveofPete, all that progress went right out the window.
I don't know what in the world is going on with my sweet-as-can-be and normally totally chill Mr. Lincoln, but he is having what we'll call a "helluva time" with sleep right now. Lincoln! Listen to your mama!! Now is not the time to become a crappy sleeper. I'm sorry, Baby, but I'm declaring an expiration date by which a baby either is or is not a good sleeper and you've already passed that and picked the good. Do not be swayed by the Dark Side. Trust me. It's not a fun place to be! And your daddy and I do not want to go the Dark Side with you anymore. Two of the last three nights have been dark enough, thank you very much.
The first set back was Friday night. LT was up to nurse about three hours after we went to bed and then, instead of just going back to sleep like he normally does, he cried. FOR TWO HOURS STRAIGHT, he cried. We tried changing him (diaper, clothes, sleep sack, sheets) and letting him work it out and finally, a little after 3:00, gave up and I nursed him again. After that he was still making noise for a bit in his crib, but get this - he was cooing. After two hours of screaming, he was freaking cooing! Once that stopped, we had roughly two-ish hours to go before Harrison would be up for the day and wouldn't you know it, I super struggled to go back down. I kept imagining that I was hearing things (i.e. the big kids) or then Ben would move next to me and I'd startle and just in general, my mind was racing like a crazy person's. But at least it was Saturday and I could go back to sleep after the boys went downstairs a little after six and get a couple more hours of disjointed crazy-dream sleep. Today I am not so lucky. Today I have to function on three hours of sleep because that's all I got amidst Lincoln's antics last night.
OK, so I can't blame the baby for the whole night. I can only blame him for the first two-thirds of it. After going to bed nice and early (but still taking too long to fall asleep), Lincoln had me up to nurse at 11, just as I was ready to hit some nice, deep sleep. So that sucked. But what sucked even more was that he was up again a little over three hours later like he's a newborn again or something. And because I didn't think my head or my heart or my body could stand another potential two-hour cry fest, I nursed him again (even though my better judgment fears this is the start of a very slippery slope). But in the moment, it worked, or at least it did for LT; he and Ben both went right back to sleep. I did not. So at 4 something I came downstairs to try to sleep down here, but hello racing-minute-counting-couldn't-go-back-to-sleep-head. And a sore throat to boot. In other words, I am a hot mess. And so are all of my boys. Apparently HD was up at 5 this morning (and 5:20 and 5:30) and then LT was up again at 5:45. WHAT is wrong with us? Why is Raegan the only person capable of sleep in this house? How am I going to survive on three hours of sleep today? Especially when I only got four-ish pieced together hours on Friday? I think it is safe to say that the no-caffeinated coffee days are over.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Sanity Saver
While I haven't given a full-on sleep update lately, you may have picked up on the fact that we've been a tired house again lately (always?). Or that I am a tired mama again lately (definitely always on this one). To be honest, I haven't given a full sleep status because 1) I don't mean to use this blog to complain all the time, 2) I've been too exhausted to get around to it, and 3) writing about it would be admitting just how bad it has been. And it's not been good.
A few weeks ago, we gave up the beloved Dream Feed because it wasn't working. That was a good choice. However, it now means that when I go to bed at night, I never know if I'm going to get an hour or two or four or maybe just the whole darn night before Lincoln is up to nurse. While there have been a few nights when he's gone the distance, there has been very, very little consistency in terms of feeding time on the others. If you've ever had sleep issues, you might know how this uncertainty can make it hard for me to go to sleep at night, even when I'm exhausted.
Then you throw in the complicating factors of a week of sick kids plus a random Sunday night when HD decided to get up to use the bathroom at 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. (of which the first woke me up and I was still up for the second one because I couldn't go back to sleep) and the result is me. One extremely tired mama. As in, a can't think/talk straight, barely keeping my sh*t together but still can't fall asleep at night mess. But then I'm responsible for the health and happiness and all the other things for three little people all day long, so I've had to keep going which is what I've managed to do by the grace of yoga, chocolate, God, and Orange is the New Black on Netflix (not kidding...those are my coping mechanisms).
But Wednesday night was a recent record low. It took me over three hours to go to sleep that night, only to be woken by Lincoln an hour-ish later, and then up for the day for real another four-ish hours after that. It sucked. So while I opted out of other activities Thursday morning, I did bundle the kids up (hello, subzero temps!) to make the dreaded trek to Walmart solo with all three of them just so I could buy a bottle warmer.
While Lincoln is still too little to skip night feedings altogether (especially since he's not gaining weight right now), he is old/big enough to be doing just one night-time feeding. No one ever said, though, that I had to be the one feeding him. At the suggestion of a few wise mamas, I got the bottle warmer so I could pump before bed and then send the milk and warmer upstairs with Ben so he could handle the middle-of-the-night feeding. & that way, no one - not the baby who wants milk or the preschooler who needs to pee - could bother me. To his credit, my husband wasn't bothered by this idea (perhaps because he realized, at this point, it was crucial to my survival?).
Last night was our first attempt. I got settled in our guest room downstairs and managed to fall asleep sometime around 10:30. I'm guessing because there is no clock in that room which is a godsend because, again, another trigger for my sleep problems is seeing the damn clock and then calculating howmuch little sleep I'll be getting from that exact moment.
So. I slept. It was lovely. I didn't have to shove a pillow on top of my head (another coping mechanism that has seriously ruined my neck and shoulders, not to mention ruined my sense of trust when it is quiet). I didn't have to get up to nurse or use the bathroom or anything. I just slept. And when Ben came in at 5:57 with a missing mama LT, I could hardly believe it. What a relief to get some uninterrupted sleep. Apparently there was a 2 a.m. bottle that took a little bit longer than a typical nursing session to get in Lincoln, but it worked and he went back to sleep and all was well. Especially since I got to sleep right through it. I have a feeling he'll get more used to the bottle and it will go quicker in the future and there will definitely be a future because this mama needs to recover a bit. I've got to get my trust back with sleep and that is not going to happen, excuse the pun, overnight.
If you can, send me some sleepy vibes here in the next few nights/weeks. Just maybe don't wish me good sleep in person any time soon because I'm still so off that those well wishes just add more pressure to my poor, tired brain. See - I told you it's been bad!
A few weeks ago, we gave up the beloved Dream Feed because it wasn't working. That was a good choice. However, it now means that when I go to bed at night, I never know if I'm going to get an hour or two or four or maybe just the whole darn night before Lincoln is up to nurse. While there have been a few nights when he's gone the distance, there has been very, very little consistency in terms of feeding time on the others. If you've ever had sleep issues, you might know how this uncertainty can make it hard for me to go to sleep at night, even when I'm exhausted.
Then you throw in the complicating factors of a week of sick kids plus a random Sunday night when HD decided to get up to use the bathroom at 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. (of which the first woke me up and I was still up for the second one because I couldn't go back to sleep) and the result is me. One extremely tired mama. As in, a can't think/talk straight, barely keeping my sh*t together but still can't fall asleep at night mess. But then I'm responsible for the health and happiness and all the other things for three little people all day long, so I've had to keep going which is what I've managed to do by the grace of yoga, chocolate, God, and Orange is the New Black on Netflix (not kidding...those are my coping mechanisms).
But Wednesday night was a recent record low. It took me over three hours to go to sleep that night, only to be woken by Lincoln an hour-ish later, and then up for the day for real another four-ish hours after that. It sucked. So while I opted out of other activities Thursday morning, I did bundle the kids up (hello, subzero temps!) to make the dreaded trek to Walmart solo with all three of them just so I could buy a bottle warmer.
While Lincoln is still too little to skip night feedings altogether (especially since he's not gaining weight right now), he is old/big enough to be doing just one night-time feeding. No one ever said, though, that I had to be the one feeding him. At the suggestion of a few wise mamas, I got the bottle warmer so I could pump before bed and then send the milk and warmer upstairs with Ben so he could handle the middle-of-the-night feeding. & that way, no one - not the baby who wants milk or the preschooler who needs to pee - could bother me. To his credit, my husband wasn't bothered by this idea (perhaps because he realized, at this point, it was crucial to my survival?).
Last night was our first attempt. I got settled in our guest room downstairs and managed to fall asleep sometime around 10:30. I'm guessing because there is no clock in that room which is a godsend because, again, another trigger for my sleep problems is seeing the damn clock and then calculating how
So. I slept. It was lovely. I didn't have to shove a pillow on top of my head (another coping mechanism that has seriously ruined my neck and shoulders, not to mention ruined my sense of trust when it is quiet). I didn't have to get up to nurse or use the bathroom or anything. I just slept. And when Ben came in at 5:57 with a missing mama LT, I could hardly believe it. What a relief to get some uninterrupted sleep. Apparently there was a 2 a.m. bottle that took a little bit longer than a typical nursing session to get in Lincoln, but it worked and he went back to sleep and all was well. Especially since I got to sleep right through it. I have a feeling he'll get more used to the bottle and it will go quicker in the future and there will definitely be a future because this mama needs to recover a bit. I've got to get my trust back with sleep and that is not going to happen, excuse the pun, overnight.
If you can, send me some sleepy vibes here in the next few nights/weeks. Just maybe don't wish me good sleep in person any time soon because I'm still so off that those well wishes just add more pressure to my poor, tired brain. See - I told you it's been bad!
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Shining Examples
On the first Tuesday (ahem - first clue right there, eh?) of the month, I try to make it to Baby Weighs to get a weight for Lincoln to put in his baby book. With Harrison, I was obsessed with BW and went every single week. As in, almost cried the time it snowed and I had to miss, but with Raegan it became more problematic (taking the 2.5er along + her not wanting to nurse there ever), and I learned to survive without it. Good thing, because with Lincoln it is even more problematic (the load time, the what-to-do-with-two-older-ones-in-tow, the excessive heat in the place - that last one is random and has nothing to do with me going or not going, but holy geez, it is always so hot there!). So. Once a month, usually on the first Tuesday because that is closest to his monthly growth mark of the 4th. And what do you know? Today we hit it spot on! Perhaps that explains why things went so well (at first).
After much negotiating and prep work (and a solid 45 minutes of effort), I got all four of us dressed, layered, and in the van. Baby Weighs isn't far from our house, and in the past we have walked, but hello. This is February in Nebraska. We drive! I packed snack bags for HD & RL (crackers, cereal, fruit snacks, all mixed together so it takes longer to eat and I don't have to open multiple packages) and told them they could have them once we got there (always good motivation for getting in the car and listening, at least initially). I also told them that if they followed the two (only two - c'mon! how hard can it be?!?!) rules while we were there, we could get a special lunch. Temperature Tuesday still exists at Runza in February, right? Because that's where I wanted to get lunch today, but I wouldn't know because the two rules were not followed. And they are simple rules!
Rule #1 - do not run up the stairs where Mama cannot see you. Baby Weighs meets in a basement room of the Home Away from Home building across from Mary Lanning; it is accessible by two sets of stairs. This also means there are two doors and sets of stairs from which my children can escape and apparently they really like to do that because we have (obviously) had this problem in the past.
Rule #2 - do not touch other people's things. Not that they normally do, but I remember the days of going all the time and being there with just one baby and wishing other people's big kids would leave my stuff alone, so you know, I try to extend that same courtesy to other mamas while I am there.
So today started out really, really well. We came in, found a spot to unload (RL even took her shoes off; guess she felt really at home!), and I grabbed books for the older two from the bookshelf. It was a busy place, though, so I knew we were not going to be in and out even though all I wanted was to get Lincoln's 7 month weight and not even attempt to feed him there. While I waited in line with Little(st) Man, HD & RL got out their snacks. They weren't running, they weren't yelling, they weren't touching anybody's stuff. My mama chest was puffed with pride. And we all know what happens next when we get too proud and puffy - we deflate.
Just when I thought we were in business because Lincoln was next up on the scale (the kids usually love this part), the stairs became Public Enemy No.1. First it was HD in the doorway, looking at me and me reminding him not to leave, and then it was his sister joining him, and both of them egging each other on as they took off up the stairs. Lovely. I had to leave LT with the nurse, naked on the scale, and go get them. And tell them no lunch (which probably sounded awful to anyone who heard me say it, so I clarified and said again, "No special lunch."). Harrison tried to appeal for a second chance but I'm in a tired, there are no three strikes mood today, so no. I explained the rules when we got there. They broke the rules. No special lunch.
The rest of our time there was sweaty and rather frantic. No one wanted to listen and I still had to get Lincoln dressed and everyone coated and hatted (and shoed, in RL's case) before we could leave. So here I had been thinking five minutes earlier, Wow! Look at my babies! They are being so good! These other moms must be so impressed! What shining examples of angelic children! and now I was thinking Wow! Look at my babies! They are such hooligans! These other moms must be so relieved! What shining examples of real children! Or maybe the other moms were annoyed, but I don't think my kiddos were being that obnoxious. At least not to anyone but me. But somehow I herded mykids cats and we made it up and out together. There were no tears and no screaming (from the children or me), so I guess it all turned out OK even without the special lunch.
Except then there was the whole issue of Lincoln not gaining a single ounce in the last month (*sigh*) and the whole other issue of me overhearing another mom talking about her baby, who is one and a half weeks old, sleeping eight hours at night, and I could have just cried. I struggle so much when my babies don't gain anything because I feel responsible. But we have small kids, so I should be used to this by now, right? And are you flipping kidding me? EIGHT HOURS?! IN A ROW?! I haven't gotten that much straight sleep in at least three years, so the whole thing made me want to, again, cry and possibly take her out at the knees.
So what do you think? Time for brownies?
After much negotiating and prep work (and a solid 45 minutes of effort), I got all four of us dressed, layered, and in the van. Baby Weighs isn't far from our house, and in the past we have walked, but hello. This is February in Nebraska. We drive! I packed snack bags for HD & RL (crackers, cereal, fruit snacks, all mixed together so it takes longer to eat and I don't have to open multiple packages) and told them they could have them once we got there (always good motivation for getting in the car and listening, at least initially). I also told them that if they followed the two (only two - c'mon! how hard can it be?!?!) rules while we were there, we could get a special lunch. Temperature Tuesday still exists at Runza in February, right? Because that's where I wanted to get lunch today, but I wouldn't know because the two rules were not followed. And they are simple rules!
Rule #1 - do not run up the stairs where Mama cannot see you. Baby Weighs meets in a basement room of the Home Away from Home building across from Mary Lanning; it is accessible by two sets of stairs. This also means there are two doors and sets of stairs from which my children can escape and apparently they really like to do that because we have (obviously) had this problem in the past.
Rule #2 - do not touch other people's things. Not that they normally do, but I remember the days of going all the time and being there with just one baby and wishing other people's big kids would leave my stuff alone, so you know, I try to extend that same courtesy to other mamas while I am there.
So today started out really, really well. We came in, found a spot to unload (RL even took her shoes off; guess she felt really at home!), and I grabbed books for the older two from the bookshelf. It was a busy place, though, so I knew we were not going to be in and out even though all I wanted was to get Lincoln's 7 month weight and not even attempt to feed him there. While I waited in line with Little(st) Man, HD & RL got out their snacks. They weren't running, they weren't yelling, they weren't touching anybody's stuff. My mama chest was puffed with pride. And we all know what happens next when we get too proud and puffy - we deflate.
Just when I thought we were in business because Lincoln was next up on the scale (the kids usually love this part), the stairs became Public Enemy No.1. First it was HD in the doorway, looking at me and me reminding him not to leave, and then it was his sister joining him, and both of them egging each other on as they took off up the stairs. Lovely. I had to leave LT with the nurse, naked on the scale, and go get them. And tell them no lunch (which probably sounded awful to anyone who heard me say it, so I clarified and said again, "No special lunch."). Harrison tried to appeal for a second chance but I'm in a tired, there are no three strikes mood today, so no. I explained the rules when we got there. They broke the rules. No special lunch.
The rest of our time there was sweaty and rather frantic. No one wanted to listen and I still had to get Lincoln dressed and everyone coated and hatted (and shoed, in RL's case) before we could leave. So here I had been thinking five minutes earlier, Wow! Look at my babies! They are being so good! These other moms must be so impressed! What shining examples of angelic children! and now I was thinking Wow! Look at my babies! They are such hooligans! These other moms must be so relieved! What shining examples of real children! Or maybe the other moms were annoyed, but I don't think my kiddos were being that obnoxious. At least not to anyone but me. But somehow I herded my
Except then there was the whole issue of Lincoln not gaining a single ounce in the last month (*sigh*) and the whole other issue of me overhearing another mom talking about her baby, who is one and a half weeks old, sleeping eight hours at night, and I could have just cried. I struggle so much when my babies don't gain anything because I feel responsible. But we have small kids, so I should be used to this by now, right? And are you flipping kidding me? EIGHT HOURS?! IN A ROW?! I haven't gotten that much straight sleep in at least three years, so the whole thing made me want to, again, cry and possibly take her out at the knees.
So what do you think? Time for brownies?
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