I’ve had this sneaking suspicion that parents who have kids who sleep easily and well have it easier than parents who have kids who do not. In the aftermath of the 2007 Christmas Chaos, I decided when we got home and Scout went back to work that it was time to get the 8 month old Alex used to napping in his crib. The whole being “on” 24 hours a day has reached the point of sucking beyond the telling of it, so it was time to try.

I’m not going to go into all the thoughts and concepts and readiness that went into this – you have kids – you know what you did, what went into it – we finally got a window to work on it – here we are, ’nuff said.

Anyone who is thinking of buying a book on baby sleep, forget it – use the money to buy a tasty beverage for yourself to drink while reading the archives at Ask Moxie. It’s the most supportive think tank of mommies I’ve ever, ever seen. Moxie herself has said that in the span of time her site has been up that she has had a singular troll. Not bad considering the topics of discussion. Apparently no sanctimommies are allowed.

There was a scrap of advice I read last month that was basically, “I picked two times a day my kid was going in the crib for a ‘nap’, the point wasn’t so much that my kid slept, but that I had 2 times a day I could pee alone and brush my teeth.” Eventually this did turn into an actual nap for her kiddo.

I picked 11am for crib time, I put Alex in the crib and I sat across the room from him on the computer. (Current research shows he freaks his shizzle out if left alone for this.) The first 2 days went like this:

Day 1 -
Nap 1 – 70 minutes to go to sleep, 45 minute nap;
Nap 2 – 50 minutes to go to sleep, 45 minute nap;
Bedtime – 120 minutes to go to sleep, 3 and a half hour sleep. (10 hours total)*
Total sleep 11.5 hours

Day 2 -
Nap 1 – 35 minutes to go to sleep, 90 minute nap;
Nap 2 – 25 minutes to go to sleep, 60 minute nap with patting back down;
Bedtime – 15 minutes to go to sleep, 2 hours sleep (11.5 hours total) **
Total sleep 14 hours

The benefit for me? I get to be on the computer while he is walking around his crib and settling down. I get to use the computer without a little hand grabbing at my keys and trying to break the screen off the back. Once he’s asleep, I get to do cool things like scrapbook. I like this. I like getting to be me for a couple hours a day.

* oh yes. That first bedtime was a treat for all. Technically it was a “No Cry Sleep Solution”, ‘cuz crying? Not so much. No tears. Screaming? Lots and lots. But this was a tantrum. Full blown, hard headed, he was NOT getting his way tantruming. If Alex had words I’m pretty sure the translation was, “Mommy your breath smells like farts, you are fat, you have out of date bad 70′s hair, your clothes suck, your mother is ugly and dresses you funny, your cooking sucks, I HATE YOU MOMMY I HATE YOU!’ I broke a sweat from all the laying him back down when he needed to calm himself, from pulling his legs out straight to keep him from climbing up the crib sides again, from helping him lay down instead of popping back up. It was a matter of wills, you see. In the course of this, he’d suckered me into getting him out of bed, getting nursed to sleep, then popping up to smile and play with daddy as soon as I left the room. He threw down the gauntlet, and this night, this night I was going to win. He was pissed at me, but he wasn’t scared. My hard headed little boy and I were going at it, and I was not letting him win. I was a compassionate victor as I patted him softly and cuddled him under my hand as he sang himself to sleep at last. And he couldn’t have known, that as he slept so soundly on that flannel sheet with the lambs, that I lay awake in bed for the hours he slept, unable to fall asleep until he woke and called for me and I brought him back to our bed, where I’m used to him being. He didn’t know I watched over him as he slept, just like always.

** during that first night, I read Amanda’s post about her first time putting her daughter to bed without “mowk”. I sighed as I listened to Alex screaming at me to piss off from the confines of his crib. The second night, I faced the crib time bedtime with a little sadness for not holding him while he fell asleep, but then as I felt sad about it, he rolled to his tummy and just lay there still, letting me rub circles on his back – something new, this laying still, I rubbed his tiny back, still not too much larger than my hand, I thought of how he will grow tall, how he will grow bigger, how someday my back will be smaller than his, how many more times he and I will go head to head in our stubborn fight to be in the right. I murmured to him about how much I love him, about how proud I am of him for how hard he works learning new things, he snuggled under my hand and closed his eyes and let out his snuffle of breath that let me know he was asleep, and I realized he just gave me a new way to be gentle with him, a new way to be his mommy.

If you could help me out – that’d be fantastic -

fill in the blanks in the following sentence:

I am looking at your site on a (PC/Mac), I am using (insert browser here), I (can/can’t) see your header.

Examples:

I am looking at your site on a Mac, I am using Safari, I can see your header.

I am looking at your site on a Mac, I am using Firefox, I can’t see anything.

I am looking at your site on a Mac, I am using Camino, I can’t see f@cking sh!t and I’m thinking of throwing this computer across the room.

(All are my statements and both are true for me … arrrrrghhhhhh!)

This is the header that is *supposed* to be showing (except, ya know, header sized)

(edited: Um. I have no idea anything about “source code”. I followed the directions to upload the header, it failed, I tried again, it failed, I saved it several different ways, it failed – in every format but Safari for Mac. You rock for even knowing the term.)

Today I had to do the unthinkable.

I can’t….

I don’t even want to admit it to you….

But you deserve the truth….

In the midst of NaBloMe (Dawn 2Pair coined it, I merely steal it) and NaNoWriMyAssOffMo, and the hundreds of unread posts in my reader, and then the painters being here and not being able to get on the ‘net all one day this week, and then actually being a parent, and then the night I fell asleep at 930… and the other night I didn’t fall asleep till 4am….

All of this my friends … I did the unthinkable.

I hit “Mark All As Read”

Oh God, the shame.

And then.

I marked all my emails as read. I haven’t responded to anyone all week, and not much last week either.

I’m a bad bad blog friend.

Sigh.

ps. to everyone who wanted to know what food was Alex was eating last week – brocolli.

pps. I’m putting myself on PPD watch-day one. I think I’m just so tired I can’t move, think or motivte – but I need to watch it – I know if I mention it here that I’m accountable for it and I won’t ignore it or blow it off. We’ll see how things look when I’m not on 4 hours or less of sleep.

This week I had an email from a friend. I liked my answer and since I’m pressed for time and words and ideas, I clearly decided to make it a blog post.

***

So, tell me with 100% honesty… What do you think of the Mommy thing? I am afraid that maybe I am only good at the “your my kids for no more than a few hours or a few days” gig. I am wondering if I really want to put in an additional 20+ years into this torture they call parenting.

Since our tolerance level is similar, what do you think?

***

I thought about this answer all day yesterday. And at different points in the day, I had different answers.

You remember having to write the philosophy of education in undergrad? This is kind of like that.

Bottom line. If you choose to have kid(s) or not to have kid(s), you’ll be happy with your choice. You’ll also look over at the green grass on the other side and wonder if you should have chosen differently.

There are days I’m not a great mom. I’m not down on the floor playing with Alex, reading him books, and showing him new things. I am on the couch knitting and gazing at the tv while he scoots around on the floor doing his own thing. There are days I merely keep him safe, fed and more or less adequately diapered. I spend too much time on the computer trying to cling to the part of me that is mine all mine and no one elses. I write the blog to have something that is mine. I take time away from Alex that maybe he deserves to have – maybe not – because I’m still with him more than if I had a full time gig, and I certainly wouldn’t expect a sitter to spend every minute with him.

Sometimes he’s a pain in the ass and I want to call the gypsies to come take him away. Sometimes I picture throwing him into the wall just to make the crying stop. (Carrie once told me about feeling that way and I didn’t get it – now I get it.) He’s not a good sleeper, and while I’m really okay with that in theory (he can’t feed himself, toilet himself, walk around himself or communicate with words, I don’t expect him to sleep well either), after a night or two of soul crushing wakeups followed by a couple of days of only taking naps on me … I’m ready to put him on the curb with a free sign.

Like now, when he’s crying in his crib – It’s about time for me to go get him – but I’m trying to give him a chance to fall asleep on his own.

I can’t watch the news anymore, every time I see a headline that has a baby in it – I see Alex’s face. I see him hurt, abused, tortured, or dead. I’m oversensitive to it so I’ve shoved my head in the sand and I rely on mommy blogs and the husband to get me important news. Well, that, Saturday Night Live News and the occasionally Daily Show and Colbert Report.

OMG, I think baby might just put himself to sleep.

I still don’t care for other people’s kids just because I have a kid. Some kids are sweet and likable, some are not.

My marriage is different. There’s less passion right now – which is mostly from me – It’s hard to want to have sex when I’ve had a baby attached to me all day long and then on the weeks where I’m attached to the breast pump trying to keep the baby fed – forget it, I don’t even want to be touched at all. On the other hand, I love him more for seeing him as a father, for seeing him with Alex, the love that is there, the way he lets himself be vulnerable to this little dictator that we have in our home now. I have a real partner in this parenting gig, it is a shared responsibility, which is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to feel so 50/50 with the parenting thing.

I think my heart is full with one. I don’t think we need another baby. Ever. I have the occasional fleeting moment of wanting another one, and then Alex screams or whines, or basically acts like a real live baby and I remember that this is hard and I have my limits and I need to respect those limits.

I do love him more than I thought possible. And through that I love hubs more each day. Which sounds like trite bs, but it is actually true. I do have a drive to take care of them both, even when I’m feeling tired and bored.

Sometimes I resent that I have no schedule – that I can’t plan to be someplace and have a clue as to how Alex will act. Like right now, I’m supposed to be walking with people, I’m supposed to be outside, getting exercise, doing something good for my body and having conversation good for my mind. I had shoes on and was in the process of being in the process of walking out the door. Then Alex got hungry and wanted his bottle, so I gave him the bottle, then he didn’t want the bottle, then he did want the bottle, then it was 4 minutes before I was supposed to be 20 minutes away and I gave up on the idea of getting to do something *I* wanted to do. And I don’t do that with a free heart. I don’t like not getting my way.

(baby needs me. he’s past sleeping on his own, and the cry now has changed to the one that breaks my heart. I’ll be back)

…

I get tired of having to type one handed because I’m either holding baby or a breast pump. I wonder why he just can’t sleep. I wonder why why WHY I have to be everything to this little boy.

But.

If I had the choice, like the country song, I’d choose him again. I’d choose this little boy who’s smile in the morning is a welcome sight, even when I’m tired. I love watching him learn new things. Somewhere around 4 months, I felt a change when I would pick him up, it’s like I could feel his little heart next to mine, and I could feel the mommy love there. And that’s pretty addictive.

Read these, I think they are good.

Remember – you’ll be happy no matter what you choose. I think that’s important to hold on to.

More shots for the Kaiser yesterday. He still took it really well. He was well past nap time by the time the needles hit his thighs, so he was more annoyed than at the 4 month appointment – but still less annoyed than being trapped in the car for a long road trip. He’s already been up and trying to crawl, so his thighs must feel okay, he’s had two 2 hour naps (!), got grizzly and wasn’t a fan of the Tylenol. Is now trying to annex my computer and has been rerouted to chew on some other valuable piece of equipment, since the 2 dollar whale and the plastic links just weren’t equitable replacements for the MacBook.

Had all sorts of really unhelpful information on the sheet from the ped. Again with the “Most children sleep through the night at this age” Yeah, really? Let’s play data collection on that one – did your kid sleep through the night at 6 months? And my definition of through the night is you put child in crib at night and don’t see him or her till morning. I know Pantley defines it as 5 hours – and even in our house of ill sleep repute we can get that – but sadly it’s from 8-1am – whoopee.)

She told us that in another month we could start giving Kaiser food from the table. We just nodded and said okay.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

?Ǭ†(He’s already 6 months old… all of you who are more experienced with this… know that I now join you in being teary watching my baby grow up…)

A while back, I read this post.

Go on, go read it … if I’m borrowing her words I’ll feel okay with it if ya’ll go read what she said first….

Okay. You’re back. Excellent.

When I hold Alex close, I keep looking for the pie smell to him. It’s not so much dessert pie to me… but he’s definitely mine, and I now think of that smell as pie …

Today I sat on the couch, while he napped on me. Because this is the way that he’s rolled when it’s come to naps this week. I watched his red cheek rise and fall with our breathing. I smelled his baby pie-ness. I though about sleep training. I thought about all the people who would roll their eyes at me letting this great big 6 month old sleep on me. All the people who would warn me about bad habits and didn’t I ever want any sleep and wasn’t my marriage simply going to collapse because he’s not a champ sleeper. I wondered if we should work on night weaning, I wondered if we should start solid routines to get him to independent sleep.

Then I thought about how this one little boy has filled our life so completely that we don’t plan to have another one. How each day that passes is a day that we won’t repeat. How each new first is a first and last of what we will celebrate a child of ours accomplishing.

I thought about how we plan to do this once. Once.

I buried my nose gently his baby smell. I decided that in 5 years or 2 years or 3 hours when he’s too busy to sit on my lap, or look at me, or notice I’m in the room, that I’ll never regret this hour on my couch, holding the baby close, knowing he’s safe, acting as pillow, being the mom.

It had been an okay night of sleep in our house. I pulled Alex over to me to cuddle him close, because it was a touch cool in our bedroom. I wasn’t fully awake. I held my baby and smelled his head. I drifted deeper to sleep. Asking myself the question, “Why was I thinking of warm water streaming against my abdomen?” Was I dreaming of the bathtub.

Um. No. The act of turning the Kaiser to his side apparently adjusted the diaper just so he could take a full on whiz out the side of his diaper and pjs and onto me.

Just another day in non-Fantasy Island.

There’s a little cloud over our home tonight. Scout and I spent the last five days having drinks and laughing and talking to our friends. Our friends. In person. In their home. In our home.

We spent two nights with my brother Forbes and family. When we arrived home in the land of the vices we had the Taters waiting for us. The Taters took their time falling for our little Kaiser … and while they were enjoying the baby, Scout and I enjoyed getting to walk around without a little Kaiser attached to us, we were cooked for, we were endlessly entertained …. I finished a knitting project …. Scout drank many beers with his bud …

The Taters made this our home this weekend. Now we’re left with another day at the office, another out of town trip for Scout … and we’re wondering what to look forward to next …

Tomorrow I’ll be more uplifting … guess what I’ll be all perky and talking about?

Just before Christmas, when I was in 2nd grade, the music teacher asked two other girls and me to sing a solo to our class. The other two girls were very shy and embarrassed about it.

I, on the other hand, belted it out. I knew the song, so I sang it loud ‘n proud ‘n on key.

That night, my mom got a phone call from the high school music teacher. Did I want to be in the high school musical? Was it okay with mom if I was in the high school musical?

Yes and yes.

I remember telling Mom, “Oh, that must have been why we had to sing in class today, the other two girls were really quiet, but I wasn’t, I’ll bet that’s how I got the part.”

“My name is Marta, I’m going to be seven on Tuesday, and I’d like a pink parasol.”

(name that play)

I spent the rest of the year singing myself to sleep at night, and apparently the rest of the house too.

On stage at age 8, all because I was ballsy enough to sing out when I knew how.

Then that girl disappeared. Replaced with someone shy and scared of being noticed. For any reason.

I went from the brave girl who sang out to the shy girl scared of anyone hearing my voice.

By the time I was a sophomore in high school, I was tone deaf. No tunes carried in any buckets.

Since Alex was born, I sing again, but always when it’s just us in the room. I’m still not singing to an audience.

Or so I thought. I made a comment to Scout involving my heinous songbird skillz and he said, “I *like* hearing you sing around the house.”

I stood totally still in the kitchen and let that process.

The next day found me belting out to Alex:

“The hills are alive! With the Sound of Music!”

I sounded just fine. I’d sounded just fine for a while. About 20 weeks or so.

***

I don’t watch cartoon movies. I always grumble about it when people are surprised that haven’t seen whatever cool animated movie is out. I remind them that the last movie I saw in the theater was Oceans 12 (12, not 13) and that I don’t usually get to watch the movies with actual actors in it that I want to see, so no, I have not seen a movie with drawn characters.

Except Happy Feet. It was on Pay Per View, so we gave it a watch.

I love that movie.

Apparently, Alex taught me my heart song.

Thank you, baby.

I have limited computer access till Friday – if you don’t hear from me, it’s because I’m suffering from internet withdrawal.

Yesterday I had that sucky realization that while my baby was laying beside me being cute as a pig in …. that I was more sucked into the computer than paying attention to him.

When I’d read this a bit ago I knew it was striking a chord.

I fell into a bad habit. I read the computer when I pump. A lot of times I pump right after Alex wakes from a nap (usually because he’s been sleeping on me because I will do whatever. it. takes. to get the boy to nap. and you just can’t easily pump while a baby is sleeping on you.)

And I’ve been particularly sucked into the computer trying to get this server switch/name change/blah blah taken care of.

Don’t forget the soul crushing nights of hauling out of bed to pump 3 times in 8 hours.

Yesterday I realized I needed to make a change, so I wrapped up yesterday and started today fresh.

Baby woke me up playing at nine, I pumped, checked the computer briefly, closed it up, and spent the rest of the time making faces at him. We went and had breakfast, got dressed, let the mattress dudes in to deliver …. yes.. mattresses, and then we played till he got cranky and went to sleep.

Now I am sucked into the computer totally guilt free. During nap two (my plan is to) work on the house.

I don’t want to say the word ‘routine’ out loud. So I won’t.

However, from now on, if you see me online, please celebrate with me that the Kaiser is doing this:

(he rolled that way on his own, and yes, I’m still paranoid enough to check that he’s breathing every other moment)

Input, Output, Sleep, Repeat.

The Kaiser has been killing us softly with his whine. The lack of sleep is truly staggering. Scout actually did most of the baby wrangling this weekend, earning a billion points when he asked, “Is this normal?” and I said “yes, this is a normal day” and he with no bs in his voice said once and for all “your job is harder than mine.” He’d said that before, many times, but this time I knew he knew how much he meant it. Which gave me a lot of comfort in light of how odd I felt last week. I spent the weekend sorting embroidery floss. A project I thought would take part of one day and ended up a full weekend project (I was consolidating four people’s stashes into one. I now have two ebay auctions to ditch the extra stuff that I’ll never use … as if I’ll ever need to buy thread again. Ever.)

Kaiser was insisting on eating nonstop, which is pulling me out of bed twice a night to pump a bottle for him – I used to be three feedings ahead. Now I’m barely keeping pace. No “Pantley pull off” for this boy. Unless we want middle of the night screaming and such. So not worth it. And just wakes me completely up, meaning it takes hours for me to fall asleep again. (Hours=exaggeration. Some)

So today is an Input, Output, Sleep, Repeat day. I feed us, I bathroom us, we sleep, we do it again. I don’t have to be super entertaining mommy. If it takes Sesame Street to entertain him while I eat, fine. If I don’t do anything but keep us alive today, fine.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for my nap. Kaiser says.

Sigh. I’ve decided to tackle TKAM for a project over here. This will be character building. I just have difficulty picturing some of my students with reading levels equal to Green Eggs and Ham getting much out of this book. Challenge to myself is to find a way to make this accessible to them. To find a way that they can go through the rite of passage of TKAM in high school along with their peers.

I’m going to miss going back into the classroom this fall. The new clothes, the new beginning feel, sitting in boring meetings writing notes with the work girls. I know I’m doing good work here, but I’ll feel a little out of whack right after Labor Day as my “new year” internal clock won’t have the alarm set this year.