Independence Day for Mama

popsicles for Independence Day @ school

In the past 2.5 years, Potamus has slept through the night only a handful of times (with the caveat that he ALWAYS sleeps through the night when he’s co-sleeping in our bed, which has resulted in us just co-sleeping every night for the past I-don’t-know-how-long). It’s hard being the kind of authentic mom I want to be, making choices like co-sleeping that feel good but are also draining on me as an introvert. I want a full night’s sleep. Okay, I’d settle for not getting up 5 times a night (like I did the other night).

People around me have helpful* advice like having him cry it out over a period of 3 days (to 3 weeks!) in order to ‘break’ him of his co-sleeping habit. I cringe at the thought. While this has clearly worked for other people’s kids, and they don’t seem worse for the wear, I just don’t want to go that route. So here I am, like last year’s “I AM SO DONE WITH BREASTFEEDING!” post (where I stuck it out for another 6 months until he weaned on his own) wanting my little guy to freaking sleep on his own for more than 30 minutes-2 hours. Ya know?

So last weekend we went and spent a few nights at my parent’s house in Eastern Washington. And one of the nights he slept shittily. And the next night I woke up at 7 and puttered out of the bedroom with Potamus still snuggled in. And he slept for a good 2.5 hours more. And when he woke up I played to his current obsession with praise, and told a little white parenting lie, by exclaiming proudly:

“YOU DID IT! Buddy you slept all by yourself, I am so proud of you! You’re such a big boy!”

He had a big smile on his face, when he said “I did it!” I wish I had taken a picture of his smile paired with his little blonde bedhead. So freaking adorable.

This week, since that, has been up and down. But I am proud to say, that he has slept through the night TWICE! When he cries out for ‘mama’ in the middle of the night, I go in, and snuggle down with him until he falls back asleep. Every day he’s made it until about 6 am. And last night he slept from 8:30-6 am, and then came into our bed and slept until 8:30. He gets so excited that he “did it!” all by himself, that I’m hoping we’re on a trend toward more independence as a mom. While I cherish the snuggles, like this morning, I also loved sleeping a few hours in a row in a bed all by myself.

Happy Independence Day ya’ll! Stay safe!

The beauty of naps

Sunlight streaming through the window, as you’re stretched out on the couch. Blanket draped haphazardly around your knees, barely covering both feet, but the streaming sunlight and heater humming creates the perfect cozy warmth. There’s the dog chewing quirky on a bone on the floor, maybe piercing the silence with a sharp bark or two when the mailman drives by, but mostly it’s peaceful, quiet, afternoon lull. One forearm is draped over our eyes as we drift through dreams and stirrings.

Or there’s the blackout shade drawn tight to block the streaming sunlight. If it’s “five o clock somewhere” then it’s “bedtime somewhere” is a perfectly acceptable phrase for the overly tired. Maybe we’ll change into our jammies or sweats even if it’s only 2pm because we know we’ll wake for dinner, but maybe won’t have the strength to do much else besides nuke some leftovers. If the kiddo is drippy nosed, we’ll possibly snuggle in together for a three hour nap and wake in time to watch some cartoons and go back to bed for the night.

There’s something magical about naps that doesn’t happen in my all-night sleep. I’m rarely aware of the time, and float dreamily in and out of consciousness. The dog may bark, but I’m less inclined to yell about it, and the phone may ring and I may or may not answer. Even when I’m crunched for time, a nap feels delicious, where crunched for time in the evening makes me feel panicky and wasteful of the 6, 7, or 8 hours that my timer says are left before my alarm gets me up for the next day’s activities.

Potamus and I have been taking a lot of naps together lately. There was the barfing incident last week, and then my Friday off, where we hunkered down in the dark bedroom and slept like the dead. I haven’t woken up so refreshed in a long time. But the magic of naps is quickly used up, like the spare change you find in the couch. It’s Monday morning and no matter how many naps I took this weekend it didn’t make me less tired this morning as I drove to work. It’s difficult, the anxiety prodding me awake at all hours of the night. My bladder prodding me awake at all hours of the night. My son’s grabby little hands prodding me awake at all hours of the night. Nap-time restfulness never quite fills me up for long enough.

But those beautiful moments, when we’re sweaty and rosy cheeked after a long slumber. When we yawn and crawl out of bed to more giggles and Hotwheels cars racing down the hallway…those moments are the ones I try to hang on to. When I’m gasping for my morning cup of coffee and it’s not even 8:00 am, I try to remember the luxury I felt this weekend when I got to take the elusive mother-nap.

Sleep Deprived Thoughts

You know when your kids is super restless and it takes 2 hours to get him to sleep, but keeping him asleep means having his sharp talons toenails digging into the soft flesh of your stomach, rendering you with only 4 hours of sleep, so you cancel your morning yoga class to enjoy a good 3.5 hours of napping bliss while kiddo is in daycare before you head off to get 6 fillings in your mouth, but when you go to take this luxurious nap you lay there for an hour and cannot sleep? At all?

Yeah, it’s not a good feeling. I mean, at least I’m getting to sit here catching up on some lovely recorded TV shows and stuffing my face with MegaStuf oreos, but that doesn’t feel as good as yoga would have. Or a nap. I desperately need a nap. But I will settle for the second best- Mt. Dew at the RoundTable pizza buffet. This is how I survive. One hour to another hour to another hour.

I’ve been reflecting on all of the lovely advice from IRL and bloggy friends on my post: Be Nice. I feel that it took me so long to learn how to give voice to my feelings, having been labelled shy as a kid, and totally fear of rejection and being judged that I wouldn’t talk about what I was thinking or believed in. So when I learned how to use my voice, I unleashed. A damn has broken and I’m not afraid to speak up. But now I get to learn how to…not speak up, in the moment, especially when it might make things worse. I want to explore this more, about the power in choosing when to speak, now that I know I CAN speak, ya know?

So it’s really about this internal experience/perception/reality vs. an outer experience/perception/reality. Like how everything on Sunday went ‘just fine’ with my siter and family, but I still felt internally awkward because of the conflict. Like when I’m in yoga class and the instructor says “straight back” and I feel like my back is straight, but then I look in the mirror and realize that…um…I’m really swaybacked. Like a broken old nag whose given far too many rides to fatass cowboys. Yeah, the difference between how I feel internally (straight back) and the reality (swayback) is striking.

Awkward Toddler Bedsharing

“Hey Monk-Monk, how’s weaning going?” a well meaning friend asked me recently.

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Um…it’s not,” I replied

Because, I’m too damn tired. And the kid has stopped biting, and has been going to sleep after nursing (though he’s not milk drunk anymore…EVER, but he’s stopped freaking out when I unlatch and tell him no more, and that it’s time to go to sleep. And when I say he’s stopped freaking out, I mean, he only cries for like…5 heart-wrenching minutes, as he snuggles down. To help with weaning  (at least in my mind), I’ve started having him sleep in our bed when he wakes up around midnight. And he’s not been wanting to nurse in the middle of the night, since he’s snuggled in to my armpit. For the most part, it’s been pretty sweet…

But can we talk about the AWKWARDNESS of sleeping with a toddler? Like waking up with a leg on your neck? Or having to pee in the middle of the night, which causes a FREAKOUT by Mr. Toddler-Crabby-Pants. Or, even more awkward, is when he climbed on my back (like a baby gorilla), and fell asleep. Which lasted 30 minutes, until he PEED ON MY BACK! Wha??!??!

I mean, we’ve managed to bumble through toddler peeing in our bed, but peeing on my back? Yeah, that’s what’s up in our house, folks. Awesomesauce!

because this looks like a comfy way to sleep…

So, how’s the sleep in your house?

slow the fuck down

a boy and his dog. a rare moment in the mids of crazy.

I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection as it relates to my parenting style/philosophy/way of being in the world. While my overall anxiety has remained pretty high, some conversations with really good friends, an appointment to begin therapy on Friday, and a quiet night that included 6 WHOLE HOURS in a row, has reigned me back in from the crazy cliff of burnout.

I have this bad habit of going full steam until burnout and it needs to stop. I know it’s part of my personality, and the stressor this time was Boof’s crazy work schedule, but truthfully I’ve been stuffing my anxiety and emotions for awhile. I’m not sure how long, probably since Potamus was born, but maybe even longer. The pioneer-buck-it-up woman has been working her ass off, because, in so many ways, moving forward full steam feels safer than pausing and acknowledging what is going on. That it’s hard. I know I say it with my head and mouth, but I haven’t let myself feel the weight of the difficulty for fear of breaking into a thousand little pieces.

And, while I’ve written about it before, I have come to this realization, that my tool for stuffing all my emotion is Facebook, my smart-phone, endless hours of mindless television. As an introvert, and a sometimes selfish person, I want “me” time. Lots of focus on “me,” and what gets in the way is this kiddo who I love and is trying his best in the world. In an effort to get MY needs met, I end up stressed.

But last night was different. Instead of facebooking, I spent 2 hours talking to different friends on the phone. Potamus was eating dinner, but I wasn’t mindlessly zoning out ‘liking’ things and surfing for the best answer to solve this to-wean-or-not-to-wean question. Or this co-sleeping-until-eternity dilemma. I was intentionally connecting. And, when Potamus had enough of Jake and the Neverland Pirates and his helping of tortellini, we played outside. He toodled around and I chatted with my other friend. And then we came inside and got ready for bed.

He was out by 8.

I didn’t feel guilty for nursing him.

I didn’t feel like I needed to be anywhere else.

I forgot about the dishes/laundry/crumbs on the floor/ and the anger that Boof wasn’t around to help.

We didn’t watch any TV past 5:30 or even listen to music on the TV and dance like we normally do. It was quiet, and focused, but not so intensely goal-oriented.

And I ended up with 6 hours of sleep in a row, and a feeling of being refreshed.

I don’t know if this relaxed way will always ‘work,’ but I do think that Potamus picked up on my calm and focused energy and it mirrored back at him a way to be in the world. I think, if I can’t figure out how to unwind, how can he learn it for himself? I have no idea how tonight will go, or how I will monitor my on-line habits, especially since summer is beginning and I will now be home with Potamus 3-5 of the 7 days out of the week, but I do think that the evening ritual was helped by this long unwind time.

Thoughts? Have you tried slowing down to achieve your parenting goals?

 

Crib-sleeping & Conflicted feelings

This is the only crib picture I have of Potamus…

I took this picture to capture the moment I first saw my son taking a nap in a crib and the conflicting emotions that it brought up inside.

From the beginning we have practiced an attachment-style parenting philosophy with Potamus, which has meant co-sleeping in our bed the first 11 months and then making the transition to the montessori-floor bed for the past few months. Nap-times have been a combination of in our arms, in the baby carrier, in the car-seat on road-trips, his bed on the floor of his room and his mat at daycare.

I have no problem with other parents using cribs, but for some reason I get this squicky feeling in my belly when I think of putting Potamus in a crib (with exception of the side-carred crib we used for co-sleeping), to sleep independently. There’s something so sweet about seeing him sleeping in his big-boy bed, and something so gut wrenching about walking into the daycare and seeing him sleeping in a crib.

I don’t know why or where this sadness and gut feeling came about the crib issue. I almost started crying seeing him lying there with the little receiving blanket up over his head to block the light. It felt institutional and like a visual reminder that 2 days a week I ‘abandon’ my sweet baby to the care of others. And on the other hand, I marveled at how sweetly he was sleeping, how easily he naps for his teachers, and how I sometimes think that they would do a better job raising him than I do (as noted by the 3 hour crying jag this morning where he was tired but wouldn’t nap and only after a long struggle did he finally go down, right when I was at my wits end).

I wanted to tell his teachers to not let him nap in a crib, but that seems cruel when he’s tired and needs a place to nap. There’s nothing inherently evil about cribs, but it just makes me feel so sad. But he was so happy and sweet and snuggly when I woke him up to go home.

post-crib nap smiles

What are your thoughts? Did your kids sleep in a crib? How do you make nap or sleeping decisions?

mother? mistress?

The sleeping arrangements in our house is becoming an issue, though I’m trying to not give up so quickly on it, as the past has shown, just as I hit my almost breaking point, a shift happens and Potamus makes a leap in abilities and maturity. But the past few weeks have been spent with me dividing my time between our king sized memory foam bed with a down comforter and Potamus’ twin size old bunk-bed mattress with blankets on the floor. On average I’m getting 2-3 in our bed and the rest of the night is spent with Potamus, though he has refused to come back to co-sleeping with us in our bed. I guess he wants me all to himself.

There are nights when I wake up and seriously have no idea where I am. I imagine this might be like celebrities who hotel-hop, and at any moment I’m going to shout “Hello Nebraska!” but haven’t left my humble abode in bedroom Seattle. When I sleep in my bedroom I sleep like a king. When I sleep in Potamus’ room, I sleep like Cinderella, on the floor, though the sleep is deep from exhaustion.

I know it’s a phase. I am committed to not having Potamus simply cry it out in his room alone. I love that he’s going down better for naps, and is even waking up during the day and not screaming for Boof or me, instead, motoring around his room reading books and playing with his toys. This is what I want, the independence and freedom and for him to associate his bedroom with sleep and calm and comfort. But I am tired, and would like to only have to go into his room 1 time a night…and not just 1 time at night and then stay there for 7 hours. 🙂

Montessori Floor Bed Update

Potamus has been sleeping in his floor bed for approximately two weeks. This means that mama monk-monk has been sleeping in Potamus’ floor bed for approximately 1.5 weeks. There are better nights than others, like two nights ago where he slept for 5 hours in a row there (but this was AFTER a 2 hour struggle of crying and moping around carrying his tambourine and banging it on the floor). Last night was rough, to say the least, with an almost 3 hour crying/whining jag from 3-5:45am. Sigh. Sometimes I end up sleeping next to him for blocks of time, and other times I’m able to creep away unnoticed and curl up in our luxurious king-size memory foam heaven. Because, lemme tell ya, a twin mattress from your parents’ old bunk bed, placed on hardwood floor, is…less than comfy.

But these moments, where he’s in dreamland by himself, or curled up next to me, seem SO worth it (the next day, because in the moment where he’s thrashing around crying, I do tend to want to pull my hair out).

From Co-Sleeping to Montessori Floor Bed

It’s like all in one day my baby has become a big boy. While we’ve been slowly weaning for awhile now (due to my working and Potamus REFUSING breastmilk from a bottle/sippy/regular cup. He’s been living off Greek yogurt and cereal and a little bit of water and nursing at night. But this week, despite his fever and and snotty nose, he has managed to begin drinking whole milk from a sippy cup (without the slow-flow prevention). While it’s still really assisted, he’s managed to drink several ounces and today even began to suck from the spout rather than chewing on it. While we’re not planning on fully weaning anytime soon, this sippy cup milk drinkin’ is gonna come in handy during daycare.

And, in other big boy news, Potamus is rejecting co-sleeping in our bed. We’ve been transitioning him to his big boy floor bed, ala the Montessori philosophy, but he hadn’t yet embraced SLEEPING in his bed. We’ve read stories and he’s played quietly in the bedroom while I’ve been resting on the bed, but two nights ago we slept for part of the night in bed with me next to him, and then last night he fell asleep in his bed and didn’t just sleep for the 2-3 hours he normally does, he slept for FOUR hours, AND THEN he woke for quick snack and slept for ALMOST FIVE HOURS STRAIGHT. Holy moly (though I wish that I could say that I got that much sleep in a row, since I was anxious without his breathing right next to me.)

My baby is growing up.

Sigh.

He then he also slept in his big boy bed for his nap today.

I honestly love co-sleeping. With Potamus at almost a year old, it got me thinking how he has been that close to me for the whole pregnancy and then almost an entire year post-pregnancy. No wonder it was hard for me to not hear his little breathing next to me! I’m trying to not second guess sleeping with him in our bed this long, since he clearly was ready right then to transition, and while I know we’ll have plenty more snuggle sessions and he’ll probably crawl into bed to co-sleep some nights or mornings, it just felt like a such a sign of his increasing independence.

A sledgehammer to November

Potamus stuck his snot-nose hands in my mouth last week and gave me his green germy nose bug, including sore throat, stuffy nose when trying to sleep, and runny faucet during the awake hours. I am so fucking tired that I seriously want to punch someone. It doesn’t help that Boof still has little job prospects and I feel like I am tasked with the enormous burden of providing for my family and still having emotional energy leftover for a whiny snot-nosed baby who hasn’t seen me all day.

I didn’t sign up for this.

In fact, it was my worst fear. Because, after all, I don’t really like children all that much. On any given day, about 95% of the time I am in love with Potamus, but the other times I am pissed that I have to, yet again, deal with his needs.

And I can’t imagine NOT co-sleeping, but my sleeping is for shit, and I can’t seem to find the magic sweet-spot that accommodates both of our needs: his to nurse all night because of reverse cycling and mine to sleep more than 1:30 at a time.

Add insult to injury, Scrummy will not stop peeing and shitting all over the house. But not like “accident” puddles, they are full on puddles marking the corner of the chair, the jumparoo, the high chair, the bookshelf we store Potamus’ carseat on, and the kitchen counter. Pooping in strategic shmeary places, too.

My emotions come leaking out in destructive ways, like wanting to take a sledgehammer to Facebook, as it is the month of sappy “gratitude” posts from all my friends whose lives seem full of “snuggly kitties” and “lost 20 dollar bills found in couch cushions,” and “breathmints,” all making their life so fucking wonderful.

And then, my natural tendency toward depression as the light gets less each day, is supposed to be assuaged by the “end of daylight savings,” which really just means “fuck over your circadian rhythm and spend the next week fighting sleep even more.”

Sigh.

So tonight, I’m grateful I don’t actually own a sledgehammer, and that Amazon doesn’t do same day deliveries…