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.

I guess I’ll sleep when I’m dead

It’s been a rough few days of little sleep and LOTS of whining (from both mama and son). And so, today, on my day off, I figured that I would let the house go a bit, and rest while Potamus rests. I haven’t done that since maternity leave, and by God I deserve a mid-day sleep.

But karma had other plans.

I had nestled into our comfy (and empty) king-sized bed. I had let my mind wander, and get drowsy, and didn’t pick up my cell phone at all. I got up to pee once (or three times, whatever), but felt relaxed and hopeful, for at least an hour long nap. But then, I heard crying. I tried to ignore it. The whimpering got louder. I prayed he would go back to sleep, that it was just some rustlings on his way back to dreamland. Alas, after ten minutes I realized he meant business. I had let my guard down, had almost been asleep, and now, wide awake with a messy house and a fussy toddler.

At daycare Potamus naps from 11-1, sometimes 1:30. With grandma, yesterday, he napped from 8-9:30 and from 2-4:30. Today, for me, he napped from 11-12.

I feel like crying.

And, to top it all off, all he will eat is graham and fishy crackers.

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. 🙂

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.

Cry it Out

When I was going through my worst bout of post-partum depression, I met with my midwife. She was kind enough to disclose that she, herself, had suffered from post-partum depression that had been made worse by her son’s terrible sleeping habits. She had pushed off the idea of sleep-training until he was 11 months old and then she had gotten into such a state of sleep deprivation, that she did 2 nights of ‘cry it out’ with her son, a total of 20 minutes each night and BOOM he was, overall, a good sleeper after that.

I thought it would never happen to me. Potamus is always held or rocked or comforted back to sleep by patting or bouncing on the exercise ball or nursing. But there has been quite a few nights lately, where he is “awake” in the middle of the night for 3-4 hours, refusing to be bounced, not interested in nursing for very long, but CLEARLY tired. While he motors around the house he rubs his eyes, whines, cries, and rubs his eyes some more.

Last night I had enough.

I have had one five hour stretch of sleep in the last 9 months, and that happened 3 days ago. The rest of the time has been spending my nights with 2-2.5 stretches at a time, because Potamus was reverse cycling. The last few days, he has been up every hour all night long. He is tired. I am tired. But I don’t want to stop bed-sharing just yet, and crying it out doesn’t seem all that conducive when the crying person is in bed with you (let alone, crying it out has triggered ideas  of abandoning babies in nurseries while they wait to be put up for adoption and are only left to be cared for by nurses).

But, at 3am this morning, I had had enough. He was clearly tired. Boof was tired, and has been pulling long hours sitting in the living room in the middle of the night so that I can try and sleep. And so, I let him lay there between us. And I patted his back. And he cried. And wailed. And cried. And I thought I was going to die, or punch the wall, or tear my hair out. Most others talk about crying-it-out in similar ways, but their babies are in cribs in other rooms and they can go to the farthest reach of the house and get away from it.

It was the longest 15 minutes. And then he was quiet, with eyes half-open, and then he rolled onto his side and snuggled up to me.

And four hours later he woke up, hungry.

I don’t know if I will keep doing it, but it seemed to work. We all got more sleep. I didn’t abandon my baby or my instincts of bed-sharing, and being right there to comfort him. And I am thankful for the midwife’s story, which somehow gave me permission last night, to be the best mom I could…and let my baby sleep.

 

But I admit, after he fell asleep, a few tears of my own were shed. I guess I had my own cry it out night…

For Now

I’ve been struggling lately, with work and motherhood and wifedom and simply being in my own skin. My bestie and I have a standing phone date weekly (yeah, for the last SEVEN years, whoa!) and her wisdom always punches me in my gut.

I had been complaining about my lack of sleep, as Potamus is doing this funny thing where he sleeps, and then doesn’t want to sleep…for like 2 or 3 hours…and while that’s hard during the day, its really lucky at night…especially since I work the next day. We sleep in shifts and my patience for everything is worn thin.

And she said, “for now.”

A few years ago we learned the word AND, with things like “I love him AND I am hurt by him.” This little word has helped save my life. And now I can add the phrase “for now,” to this way of life. She said, “you are tired…for now. He is sleeping poorly, for now.” It acknowledges the frustration and weariness, with the understanding that this life is full of fluctuations.

And sure enough, just when I thought I couldn’t take it any more, Potamus slept well last night.

For now.

The Sweet Spot

Boof rolled over a few nights ago and said, “I appreciate how sweet you’re being to him right now,” which was heartwarming to hear, even though I hadn’t even realized that there had been a noticeable shift in my ability to handle the nighttime clusterfeedings/crying jags. My medication is still ramping up, so I hadn’t expected to feel any different for awhile, but as I’ve told many people before, that family members tend to notice the difference long before the ‘identified patient’ notices a real change in mood.

But there have been moments in the past week, where I find myself lost in the smell of his babyness, have stroked his cheek and gotten simply lost in the moment of connection between the two of us. Perhaps I’ve slowed down a bit, especially at night, not frantically reading facebook or online forums, and simply allowed myself to drift in the moment, even when I can’t seem to figure out why he wants the boob AGAIN for the 6th time in an hour.

My midwife, at my follow up appointment, was very supportive of my choice to seek medication. She even disclosed that she had struggled with PPD, and so she understood the irrationality of the feelings and how isolating it feels. I couldn’t be happier with how she has handled my post-natal care, and it was nice to report that I could see myself heading back into the light of the sweet spot.

Sleeping arrangements

From the time we got pregnant I knew that we were going to co-sleep, and so I registered for an Arms Reach Co-Sleeper,  and explained to my friends and family the benefits of co-sleeping and that NO we were not registering to a crib, that baby Boof would sleep in our room indefinitely and then would transition to a toddler bed when he was ready.

I was prepared for co-sleeping. But what I wasn’t prepared for was bed sharing, where the baby sleeps IN bed with mom/dad rather than right next to the bed in the co-sleeper. But, when baby Boof was born, I could not put him down. For the first week he slept on my chest in a kangaroo way, all pouched down in my stretchy tank. And then he grew 2 inches and his legs flopped over my side, so he slept all snugged up to my bosom. And I loved it. But I recognize safety issues, and also wanted a little more sleeping room throughout the night. So, almost a month in, and baby Boof is now sleeping 3 inches from me in the co-sleeper, and honestly, he has made the switch without any fuss.  Mama, on the other hand, misses the sweet feeling of his breath on my neck and the little sigh he would give as he snuggled his head up under my chin. Or, like the other nightclub, when he was crying, and reached his little arm out of the swaddle, touched my neck and then fell asleep. It’s sweet moments like this that I will miss as he moves into the co-sleeper for good, and eventually his own bed.

The benefit, though, is getting to sleep on my stomach again, after a year!