pushing through the sleepy.

Dexter is getting teeth.  Or I should say that we hope he is getting teeth because that would be the only reasonable explanation for his change in demeanor and behavior lately.  He’s still a happy, happy boy most of the time but there have been instances when he is just fussy for no apparent reason.  And he is sleeping like crap.  Naps: Crap.  Nighttime:  Total crap.  Screaming in the car:  Full on. 

I remember Theo at this age quite well.  I remember thinking there was no end in sight to these days and nights.  Wondering why all the sudden, our good-sleepin’ baby has regressed back to newbie sleep patterns.  I remember sitting at work, wishing I could be at home to bear some of the weight, to help my husband…asking him if he wanted me to switch shifts at work so I could be there to relieve him.  Feeling guilty that I wasn’t suffering too.  Same thing now.
Not to say that I don’t suffer on the weekends.  One advantage that my hubs has over me is that he can fall asleep the second he lays down 99% of the time.  I can’t.  Ever since Theo was born, I just don’t sleep well.  Luckily, I get a little bit of a chance to catch up on sleep during the week when the house is quiet.  When the kids are home, I’m anxious.  Paranoid to go to sleep because they’ll wake up soon and I’ll have to get up anyway.  Paranoid to fall asleep because I might not hear them. 

*****

Typical night the last couple of weekends:
8pm(ish): Get Theo in bed.

8:15-8:45: Get Dexter in bed.
10:30pm:  Fall asleep on the couch trying to watch DVR’d shows with my husband.

12:00am: Wake up because my neck hurts and tell Boo that I’m going to bed.

12:05-2am:  Lay in bed, wondering when Dexter is going to wake up while listening to Theo’s Leap Frog Scout toy (hoping it doesn’t wake him up) as he rolls all over it.  Think to myself I have GOT to take that thing out of his bed.

2:15am: Drift off to sleep.

3:45am: Wake up to the sound of Dexter whining, get up, go in his room, put him back in the middle of the bed…restart his sleep sheep.

4:00am:  Lay back down, wondering when Dexter will wake back up.  Listen to Boo snore (which is pretty much nails on a chalkboard to me when I’m trying to sleep).

445am:  Grab my phone and play some games or read Facebook.

5:30am: Drift off to sleep.

5:31am: Wake to the sound of Dexter whining again.

5:40am:  Crawl back into my bed with a freshly diapered Dexter and nurse him until he falls back asleep.

6:15am: Slip out of bed with Dexter and lay him back in his crib. 

6:16am:  Trip over a stupid beautiful cat who is 4 years old but hasn’t figured out that walking directly in front of humans doesn’t work out well.  Curse.

6:17am:  Lay back down, close my eyes and pretend no one else is home.

6:42am: Wake up to the sound of Theo’s groaning and elbow Boo, begging him to give me 5 more minutes.  He gets up and gets Theo’s “milkies” ready.

6:45am: listen to Boo trip over the cat.  Curses.  Listen to Dexter whining.  Stomp out of bed and into Dexter’s room.  Get over my foul attitude when he gives me a sleepy smile. 
*****

I wish I was exaggerating.  Good morning, world.  Caffeine.  Where’s the caffeine?

*****

Despite the sleeplessness and subsequent headaches I’ve been experiencing, it was a beautiful weekend.  Staying in the house will make me crazy for certain, so we had to get out and go do.  The weather was nice.  Theo finally said “yuh-you” back to me when I told him “I love you” on Friday.  We made an impromptu trip to Target (love) that night.  Saturday it was windy, but we rode a little miniature train and shopped at the outlet mall.  Sunday, we went to the Children’s Museum – Theo had the best time.  I hate that Boo and I are both stressed from the time we wake up until the time we leave because we are both tired exhausted and there’s so much to do to just get out the freakin’ door

If you’ve made it this far, the least I can do is provide some cute pictures of my dahling children.  Thanks for reading.  Your comments really do make my day!

I couldn’t get enough of those tiny toes.  Neither could he.
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He’s so cute, right?
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All things considered… they are worth every sleepless night.  I bet I won’t remember how tired I was when I look at these precious pictures 20 years from now. 
xo,
~C~


imperfect parenting.

There are nights when everything just goes wrong.  Nights when I just want to pull my hair out (example:  this Tuesday).  Theo didn’t get a good nap that day.  Dexter has been a little fussy, I think he’s working on teeth.  He won’t let me sit him down to fix dinner, fold the laundry, or do the dishes without crying.  He’s tired but he won’t take a nap.  Theo throws food on the floor and smears mashed potatoes all over the table.  And in his hair.  And inside his ears.  It isn’t wasn’t even bath night (but it is now).

He sees the wagon in the garage and when he realizes we won’t be going for a walk around the neighborhood (or as we refer to it at home – putting him in that red thing and doing that one thing around the you-know-what), he collapses into a pile of wet noodles on the floor (or ground. or garage floor).  And proceeds to scream and flop around like a fish out of water until he eventually hits his head on the leg of a table or a big plastic toy he left in the middle of the hallway.  He has that reaction to 4 or 5 other life-changing catastrophes that don’t go his way.  You know, like having to get out of the bathtub after splashing 90% of the water out (on me).  And then he arches his back and twists and turns when we put him on the changing table for jammies, making it nearly impossible to accomplish anything at all. 

AND THEN he decides to throw his cup.  Causing the lid to pop off.  Causing oh, I don’t know, 7 ounces of milk to splatter all over the door, walls, (cloth) laundry hamper, and into every crook, nanny, groove, and crevice of his changing table drawer fronts.  And I think MAN, am I glad we got the one with all that beautiful detail.  And naturally, he does this at bedtime.  And naturally, it takes about 20 minutes to clean it all up.  Of course he finds it amusing to see me on my hands and knees sopping up the mess with towels and subsequently wiping down the floor with baby wipes.  Of course I’m mad.  Or maybe just tired.  Or just completely over the whole stupid night.  And of course he screams bloody murder when I turn off the light and shut the door behind me without looking at him or kissing him goodnight. 

And of course…

Before I take two steps down the hall, I feel guilty and get that knot in my chest.  So I turn right back around.  I open the door and pick him up.  I hug him tight to my chest and close my tear-filled eyes as he rests his tear-stained cheek on my shoulder.  He stops crying and I whisper I love you, baby.  I’m so sorry. I think he is too. 

I dry both of our faces and kiss his forehead.  I tuck him in and rub his back.  I tell him everything is going to be okay, promise that I’m not mad at him, and say tomorrow will be a better day.  The kind of day when everything goes just right.  And it does.

happy 5 months old today, sweet boy!
Every day I think I could not love them more.  But every day I do.

~C~

parenting fail number 5,129,543

I used to babysit a wonderful little girl and I really loved her parents.  They were cool, laid back, and super nice.  They never got frazzled about anything that I did or didn’t do.  But there were little things that would come up that just got under my skin.  We had a relaxed, open policy – if she comes, you pay.  If she doesn’t, you don’t.  No big deal.  They dropped her off early, around 7:30am if I remember correctly.  This was long before my “real job” days so getting up at 6:45 to shower and get ready was no easy feat.

There would be days occasionally when I’d be up and ready, watching and waiting.  Looking out the door.  Wondering.  9am would come and go.  Then I’d get a phone call around 10am from the mom or dad saying they were going to keep her home or take her to work with them that day.  At the time, I thought that was kinda rude.

The deal was that they were supposed to send her lunch but if I cooked something at the house, she was welcomed to eat what I ate.  There were weeks when I didn’t make it to the grocery store and she would show up with no food so I had to scrounge and scramble to find something for her to eat.  Her parents always paid extra those weeks, which was nice, but it was the principle that they didn’t give me a heads up in either of those situations.

Nit-picky.  I know.  Looking back, none of it was a big deal.  And boy, have I learned how quick things tend to come up that lead to those kinds of scenarios.  In the end, I was lucky to be able to spend the summer with one of my favorite girls AND get paid to do it.  We went shopping.  To the pool.  To the movies.  You get the idea.

I digress.

I always swore when I had kids, I wouldn’t be one of those parents.  The parent who is always late to pick up.  The parent that forgets to pay.  The parent that sends their kid to the babysitter with a fever.  The parent that forgets to pack their kid’s lunch.  The parent that forgets to send their kid dressed in the themed color or crazy hat or whatever. 

Guys, I am that parent. 

I have forgotten the check (but I went right back home to get it).  I have overslept by a couple of hours when I meant to just take a short nap.  I forgot to send the right toy or book on “counting is fun day.”  I have sent my kid with a slight fever because I truly had to (our babysitter is okay with that, by the way!).  Every time anything happens, I kick myself and say I’m going to be more reliable and less absent-minded.  I’m going to make notes on the dry erase board and put reminders on my phone.   

I screwed up.

Yesterday, our babysitter had a very important appointment and she told us about it no less than three weeks in advance.  She reminded us about it last week.  I promised to be there by 3:30pm when I usually don’t pick up til around 5.  I thought about it yesterday morning on my way home from work.  Then I got home and I pumped.  I changed the sheets on Dexter’s crib.  I cleaned up the bottles.  I brushed my teeth and got my jammies on.  And then I crashed…without re-setting my alarm.  It was set for 4pm. 

The neighbors are getting a new roof and it was pretty noisy all day.  I woke up every hour and looked at the clock wondering if it was time to get up.  It never crossed my mind.  I woke up at 3pm and laid in bed, waiting to fall back asleep while listening to the sound of hammers and the saw.  My phone was sitting on the pillow next to me and I happened to be looking in it’s general direction when the screen silently lit up at 3:28. 

I picked up up and saw the babysitter’s name and immediately panicked – Dexter is still so sick.  I tried to sound somewhat awake because I didn’t want her to feel guilty for waking me up.  Don’t you always feel guilty when you call someone and they are clearly asleep?

Me:  Hello? 
Her:  Hi. It’s ____. 
Me: Hi. Is everything okay?
Her: We were just wondering if you were still going to make it so I could get there on time.  My appointment is at 4:10.
Me: Sh*t.  I’ll be right there. Bye.

My heart sank to my feet and my stomach jumped up in my throat as I lunged out of bed.  How could I forget?  I’d been lying there for a half hour, my mind completely void of anything.  I threw on some jeans and ran out the door as fast as I could, with my hair sticking out in 10 different directions and breath smelling like yesterday’s news.  Not my best look or my proudest moment by a mile.

While I was having an anxiety attack sitting at the 4 way stop a mile from her house, I texted her.

Me:  You can put Dexter in his carseat and meet me outside if you want.  Almost there.
Her: Yep.

So she did.  She was waiting on the front porch with the babies when I screeched into the driveway.  I hurriedly begged for forgiveness and she assured me it was fine as she rushed off.  Worthless, worthless, worthless.  That’s how I felt.  I hate being late for appointments and I know she is the same way.  She’s so super reliable and I can’t stand that I’ve turned into this parent that isn’t. 

It’s surely not on purpose and it’s not something I take lightly.  I just don’t know how to defeat my inner absent-minded professor.  I texted her later to apologize again and apparently she got there on time, or close enough.  She again said it was fine, but it’s not.  I hate being someone that our kids’ babysitter, of all people, doesn’t know if she can count on when I say I’ll do something.

Ugh.  Such a disgusting feeling.  Parenting fail number 5,129,543.

feeling like a loser,
~C~