Monday, February 15, 2010
A Proper Date
We went on a date. Tis true. My brilliant friend and neighbor suggested a while back that we do a date swap for Saint Valentine's Day. Sounds wild, huh? She meant swapping the childcare :-)
Stephen and I got to go out the night before V-Day... Saturday. Since we rarely leave the house together, we decided to go somewhere we could actually sit and be served rather than wait for 90 minutes in the February cold at one the more popular places in town. We settled on the downtown sushi bar (mainly because they have a wait list system similar to reservations). I had never been there and it was full of people under the age of 23. Neither of us knew a soul there so it also had that cool effect of making us feel like we were in a completely different city.
I hadn't had sushi of any sort in years (since leaving Arizona, I believe... well, maybe once or twice in Chicago). Although this place has a good reputation, I still stuck with the safety of rolls. I got my old eel roll standby and tried a few new things. I washed them all down with several seven and sevens (try saying that when you've had several).
All in all, we had a really nice time. We talked about the kids. We talked about Stephen's work. We "gasp" talked about other things. We laughed coquettishly at each other's jokes. We eavesdropped and judged people. We made up stories about people based on what they ordered and their tattoos. We laughed a lot.
We still got it baby. Still got it.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Bad Mommy Moment #347
He is finally asleep. As he gets more and more active, going to sleep (especially naps) are becoming increasingly difficult. In the past few weeks, there have been days it has taken 45-60 minutes to get him to sleep. Needless to say, I am furious for a good amount of that time and do and say things I shouldn't.
It is a sunny February Sunday. I have nothing planned for the day. Really... nothing. I am not in a rush to get to the store or to run errands. I have no appointments or plans of any kind.
He was tired and yawning. We did lunch and headed upstairs at 12noon. We read some books. He threw a fight because he wanted to hold the books. This prevented any real reading from happening. At 12:20 or so, he seemed to be settling in. We laid down to snuggle him into dreamland. He wasn't having it. Up and down, trying to get off the bed, jumping up and down again, bumping head against wall (this weird pastime deserves its own blog post), scratching me, snuggling, smacking my head, jumping again, snuggling.
Patience left the building. I could feel the ire building in my body. I was tense and furious. I kept lying him back down but could feel myself being a tiny bit too rough that last time. I picked him up and snuggled him on my lap and decided.
Today he was going to learn to go to sleep on his own. My 14-month-old son who has taken to joining us in our bed earlier and earlier each night (after he goes to sleep initally, we carry him to his crib) was going to learn how to put himself to sleep.
I have never tried "crying-it-out" with this guy. I tried it once with Luna and I couldn't handle it. I have never done with him as I knew I was not cut out for it. Today I felt like it was a safer option that Crazy Mommy losing her shit.
At 12:41, I carried him to his crib with his blankie. I assured him he would be fine and I loved him. I put him down in his crib. I walked out of the room. I left the door open. I went around the corner to my room and I curled up in a fetal position with a view of the clock. I find watching the clock to be very important in moments like this. It helps me stay connected to this world. It also helps me realize that my kid has only freaked out for 3 minutes and NOT the 32 minutes it feels like.
He whined and whimpered but didn't really lose it.... until the phone rang. It was Papa. I picked it up. He heard my voice just one room away and cried. He never got hysterical. I told myself I could go get him if he got hysterical. He cried a bit and stopped. He cried a bit and stopped. It was tough. I watched the clock. I considered whether or not this was the way it was going to be. Was I going to do this from now on or was this just a coping mechanism on a gorgeous sunny day when I almost lost my cool?
I haven't decided but he is asleep. I feel like a horrible human being. I know he is fine but I still feel like an ass-- partly for putting him in this situation and partly for not snuggling him when he cried.
P.S.-- Papa got home. Tommy woke up 34 minutes into his nap. Papa went upstairs and took him to bed with him for a nap. I am furious, this time with a different young man in our family.
It is a sunny February Sunday. I have nothing planned for the day. Really... nothing. I am not in a rush to get to the store or to run errands. I have no appointments or plans of any kind.
He was tired and yawning. We did lunch and headed upstairs at 12noon. We read some books. He threw a fight because he wanted to hold the books. This prevented any real reading from happening. At 12:20 or so, he seemed to be settling in. We laid down to snuggle him into dreamland. He wasn't having it. Up and down, trying to get off the bed, jumping up and down again, bumping head against wall (this weird pastime deserves its own blog post), scratching me, snuggling, smacking my head, jumping again, snuggling.
Patience left the building. I could feel the ire building in my body. I was tense and furious. I kept lying him back down but could feel myself being a tiny bit too rough that last time. I picked him up and snuggled him on my lap and decided.
Today he was going to learn to go to sleep on his own. My 14-month-old son who has taken to joining us in our bed earlier and earlier each night (after he goes to sleep initally, we carry him to his crib) was going to learn how to put himself to sleep.
I have never tried "crying-it-out" with this guy. I tried it once with Luna and I couldn't handle it. I have never done with him as I knew I was not cut out for it. Today I felt like it was a safer option that Crazy Mommy losing her shit.
At 12:41, I carried him to his crib with his blankie. I assured him he would be fine and I loved him. I put him down in his crib. I walked out of the room. I left the door open. I went around the corner to my room and I curled up in a fetal position with a view of the clock. I find watching the clock to be very important in moments like this. It helps me stay connected to this world. It also helps me realize that my kid has only freaked out for 3 minutes and NOT the 32 minutes it feels like.
He whined and whimpered but didn't really lose it.... until the phone rang. It was Papa. I picked it up. He heard my voice just one room away and cried. He never got hysterical. I told myself I could go get him if he got hysterical. He cried a bit and stopped. He cried a bit and stopped. It was tough. I watched the clock. I considered whether or not this was the way it was going to be. Was I going to do this from now on or was this just a coping mechanism on a gorgeous sunny day when I almost lost my cool?
I haven't decided but he is asleep. I feel like a horrible human being. I know he is fine but I still feel like an ass-- partly for putting him in this situation and partly for not snuggling him when he cried.
P.S.-- Papa got home. Tommy woke up 34 minutes into his nap. Papa went upstairs and took him to bed with him for a nap. I am furious, this time with a different young man in our family.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Get Outside Every Day
I read this or heard this a long time ago. Lately, it is imperative that I remember this and act on this bit of advice. IMPERATIVE.
It is February. Although this is a short month, it has been a tough month for me historically. 2010-- I am staying at home with a little one. I do not have a car most days and even when I do, I am home from 12-3 every day for a little one's nap. On top of that, it is crazy cold and who wants to drag a little kid in and out of a car seat and into Target and Meijer's for the sake of a bargain on baby butt wipes all the while sweating profusely in a down coat? Not this mama.
Solution: Get Outside Every Day
The big one usually has a rough transition at the end of her school day. Even when I greet her at the door with a smile and favorite snack in hand, there is inevitably a certain amount of shrieking and tears. Yesterday, Little Bro and I met her at the door in our snow gear and ready for some serious snow play. It was not as cold as it had been (a balmy 28 degrees) so we pulled the old wool socks up to Tommy's elbows and tackled the crunchy sticky snow--- the best packing and sledding snow I have seen yet this season.
These photos were all taken in our backyard. Yes, our very own backyard.
After 7 years of life on a nasty, pot-holey alley within spitting distance of one's neighbors, the magic of having a small stand of woods in our own backyard is not lost on me. We go "adventuring" and "hiking" all the way to the top of hill (where we meet the backyard fences of the mansions at the top of the hill/other side of the tracks). We have picnics in the snow. We look for fairy houses and toads.
And on cold gray days in February, we build tiny little snow people with baby carrots for noses.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Papa Love
We are turning the corner. While my little guy still seems to prefer Mama when he is tired/hurt/hungry/upset, he has now started reaching for Papa. He calls out "Papa?" in the early morning, when we are in one room and we hear something in another room and as we look out the window. It has the sweetest little cadence--- "Pa-PA?"
Stephen stayed home for 8 weeks when Luna was born and then quit his job to stay home with her full-time when she was 9 months old. Those two are thick--- really thick. He and Tommy have struggled to find their spots with one another. I notice a HUGE difference in their interactions after any length of time together--- vacations and holiday breaks. As Tommy becomes more and more independent, he seems to be happier all the time with "Papa?" and this makes Mama so happy to see her two boys together. (Please excuse the third-person storytelling just this one time.)
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