Gratitude

I know I spend a lot of blog space whining about how hard it is to be a mom, and how little sleep I get, and how much poop I have to clean up. And yeah, it's all true. It is hard. And messy. And I am exhausted every single day of my life. And I realize now that Moms definitely don't get all the respect, and expensive gifts, and pagan-like worship rituals that they deserve.

But I realized this morning, while I was getting up with Monkey for the (literally) 14th time since he went to bed last night, that I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. I love this. And I am so lucky to have the chance to do it. And even though it's been incredibly hard and incredibly limiting to do this on one income, I have been blessed with the chance to do this all day, every day.

I have a son. A healthy, happy, beautiful son. And I know a lot of people in the world would give everything they have to be in my shoes. They would gladly lose sleep, have pureed vegetables spit on them, be occasionally vomited on, and barely be able to pay their bills...they would relish every second of that, because having a healthy baby would mean that much. And sometimes I take it for granted.

Now this isn't to say that I won't revert to my whining, overwhelmed, totally-flabergasted-by-the-gross-things-babies-do commentary. Make no mistake about it, people. Sometimes writing that whimpering drivel is the only way I can keep from sobbing hysterically and hiding in the basement all day. It's like therapy, only much cheaper and much more public. But I wanted to be clear.

I am grateful for my son. I am grateful for the chance to be his mother. And I wouldn't give it up for all the sleep I could ever want.

Sleep...Or The Lack Thereof...

I got what I had coming to me. I did. I shouldn't have bragged about how great he was sleeping when he was 3 months old. I shouldn't have waxed poetic about his 9 and 10 hour nights of sleep. I should have kept my mouth shut, enjoyed it, and not rubbed it in other parents' faces.

But I didn't do that. And he hasn't slept through the night more than a handful of times in the last 4 months.

Karma is a muthaf...well, you know.

I am becoming a cranky person. A sleep-deprived whiner, an overtired bully, and a general bitch. My poor husband, bless him, tolerates it with a good face most of the time. And the times he gets snappy back at me are usually justified and long overdue. I don't like this, I don't enjoy being a mean and impatient version of myself. And I hate that sometimes my impatience comes out at the little Monkey Man, who certainly doesn't deserve it.

We just don't know what to do at this point. We have tried the "get up with him every time he wakes up and soothe him back to sleep" thing. We tried the Ferber method "slowly work your way up to less soothing and more sleeping" thing. We have tried a mangled combination of the two. We have tried earlier bedtimes, later bedtimes, more food before bed so his tummy isn't empty, warmer room, cooler room, less jammies and more naked, more jammies and less naked...we have tried sound machines and humidifiers and night lights that put stars on the ceiling. We have tried everything we can think of, short of letting him cry himself back to sleep (well we tried that one night and he cried off and on for 2 hours, and it was my personal nightmare.)

The crazy thing is that when he started sleeping through the night, it just happened. On its own. We didn't do anything different. One night he just slept all night. And then the next night. And then it was normal. I dream about those nights. At least, when I manage to get enough sleep at one time that I dream at all, I dream about those nights...

Just EAT Already!

I am shocked, on a daily basis, by how little my child eats, and by how difficult it is to get him to eat. I am wondering if I need to be concerned about this, and will probably end up calling the ped this week for a chat about it...I guess I expected him to WANT to eat solid foods. I mean, breast milk can only taste so good, I imagine. And surely the tummy gets bored with a liquid diet, and craves the digestive challenges of a more varied and textured meal? He's always trying to grab our food. Doesn't that mean he wants to, you know, eat it?

Apparently not.

I will make him some baby food fruit and mix it with barley or rice cereal and cinnamon for breakfast, and he will maybe eat a tablespoon, on a good day, if I get lucky and if he doesn't boycott eating altogether after rubbing said breakfast mixture into his eyes and screeching. He doesn't breast feed that much during the day anymore, although he gets plenty of chances to. No, now instead of gobbling mommy's milk up he will lazily nosh on one side, and before he gets to the other he will start looking around, trying to get down and play. Lunch is a baby food meat, a veggie, and fruit for dessert. The meat is still frowned upon most of the time, and I end up mixing it with the veggie, which is at least looked at as a neutral entity, though not yet an ally.  And I can manage to trick him into eating a few bites of that before he gets disgusted with my shenanigans, and refuses to eat anything else but some fruit, which he loves, but still only eats in small quantities. More offerings to nurse in the afternoon, most of which are accepted half heartedly. And then dinner, a repeat of lunch with cereal thrown in, rarely ends with more food in his tummy than on his clothes.

How can he be growing when he only seems to consume about 17 calories a day?! How can he not be starving all the time? Why does he HATE sitting down to eat? I did not expect this. They don't tell you about this, you know. It's one more way that society tricks you into having kids. They show these happy babies eating their Gerber purees and you think "That's going to be a piece of cake! Yay solid food!"

Pshaw, that's all I have to say.

Stupid Songs I Make Up And Sing To Monkey All Day Long

The Poopy Pants Song

Poopy pants, pooooopy pants
I've got a baby with pooooopy pants
Poopy pants, pooooopy pants
I have a baby who pooooops

If you think this is gross
You should see when Mom drinks lactose
Stinky, slimy and pea greeeeen
It's the grossest thing you've ever seen

Poopy pants, poooopy pants
I've got a baby with pooooopy pants
Poopy pants, pooooopy pants
I have a baby who pooooops


The Prune Song

I like prunes in the mornin'
I like prunes in the afternoon
I like prunes any time of day cuuuuuuuuz
Prunes'll make me poop real soon

I like my prunes all warmed up
I like my prunes real cold
I like my prunes any temp'ature cuuuuuuz
Constipation gets real old


Bananas!

I like to eat bananas
They're so gooooood
I like to eat bananas
They grow in my neighborhood
I like to eat bananas
It's easy to seeeeee
I like to eat bananas cuz I'm a monkeeeeey!

First Night Away

My husband and I are relocating, moving to a new city and state, and so we've had to go there to find a place to live. The first time we went we took the little man with us, of course. And he spent 4+ hours in the car, then another 8 hours driving around with us, going in and out of apartments and duplexes, and then stayed in a strange hotel room, spent a few hours the next day driving around looking at places, and then 4+ hours in the car on the way home. Needless to say, although he was an excellent boy and handled the days really REALLY well, by the time we got home he was a mess. Stressed, cranky, overtired, and bored out of his mind. We really didn't want to do that to him again, but we needed to go back since our first trip didn't land us a living situation. Sooo...we left him home with his nanny during the day and his Papa and big sister for the night.

I need to say I did much better than I thought I would. I only texted the nanny a few times during the day Friday, and then we only called Papa twice that night. I had to wake up in the middle of the night to pump, and so I was worrying a little bit then, but in general I did great! I think I deserve a mommy gold star for being able to leave him in what I know are capable (although not as capable as mine, haha) hands for a night.

They said he did great. He ate well, didn't have any weepy freak-outs, went to sleep at his normal time, and when he woke up at night he went right back to sleep. Everything I worried about was fine, nothing happened (except the smoke alarms went off at 4am, of course, but that didn't seem to bother Monkey!) and he survived unscathed.

It's a learning experience. I know parents who would regularly let grandparents or other family watch their child overnight from a very young age, and I know parents with kids in elementary school who haven't spent a single night away from mom and dad. Before I had a kid of my own, I always wondered at both sides of the fence. Why leave the baby? Why not leave the baby? I am sure they all have reasons.

My fear at leaving him was mostly based on a.) he's going to miss me a whole lot and have bad separation anxiety and cry a lot and be generally sad and b.) he's going to be going through all this and whoever is with him won't know how to handle it. I guess that's pretty normal, especially since I think the world revolves around me! :)

It was nice to know my fear was unjustified. I want a well rounded kid. I want to raise a kid who can be away from mom and dad and feel safe, feel cared for by whoever is caring for him, and feel confident that mom and dad are coming back. I want a kid who can go with the flow. And so far, I think I have him.