Warning: I’m in a bad mood. This is probably going to be a grumpy, whiny rant so if you’re looking for rainbows and sunshine, click away. I blame daylight savings time. I remember when I first discovered what a joke the supposed “extra hour” of sleep is for people with babies.
And when people say they wish there were more hours in the day, I’m guessing they do not mean the cold, pre-dawn, pre-coffee hours or the long, cold, now-dark hours between 4 and 7 p.m. At least not when you have to share those hours with 2 loud, whiny, and often damp children age 4 and under. (Some of whom like to eat crayons.)
My 20 m.o. is back to his newborn ways. He’s waking up at 4:30 a.m. wailing and thrashing. Only now he can talk, so his wailing sounds like this: “Mommeeeee! Daddeeeee! Mommeeeee! Daddeeeee!” and on and on until you go get him. And we do, if only so our 4 y.o. doesn’t wake up and come bounding out of his room to get in on the action.
Sometimes, Daddy can get the baby back to sleep in the rocking chair, and sometimes against my better judgment, I let him get into our bed. But usually he’s wet and frequently stinky. (What the HELL?! Huggies Overnite diapers worked like a charm with my firstborn.) And if you change his diaper, then he’s wide awake and up for a game of “Let’s turn Mommy’s nostrils inside out” or “Pinch the skin on Daddy’s neck really, really hard.”
Some nights it’s like musical beds. C. may fall asleep in Miles’ bed or in Riley’s chair. If Miles comes into our room because he had a bad dream, I might move to his room because C. is snoring and Miles tends to kick me in the ribs. You never know where you’re going to wake up, or with whom. It’s like college only everything smells like pee instead of beer.
(True story: in college my freshman roommate was on the soccer team. One night after a raging soccer party her teammate next door got up to go to the bathroom and mistook our room for hers when she came back. So I woke up to find a drunk girl trying to climb into bed with me. Of course my roommate, who was also drunk, found this hysterical.)
And the getting-dark-early part of daylight savings? Is a TERRIBLE thing. This means that after Riley wakes up from his nap and Miles has been forced to play quietly by himself while I work, we can’t go outside and play, but have to remain cooped up in the house. Or else brave the rush-hour traffic to kill time at Target or the mall or other germ-infested places where you’ll end up spending money for no reason. I hate this time of year.
Aren’t you glad you stopped by? ;)
LINK O’ THE WEEK: Speaking of drunk bed-hoppers, Stefanie Wilder-Taylor's "Open Letter to Charlie Sheen" is hilarious. I really do feel sorry for his 1-y.o. twins, though. Hopefully their extended family has a clue.
11/10/10
Daylight Savings Sucks
4/25/10
Rise and Whine
Being awake at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday is just plain WRONG. You feel like you’re the only person in the world who’s up at that hour. Out the window, you see not a soul or a single car pass by. You wonder whether the neighbors would notice if you “borrowed” their newspaper and returned it after you’ve read it. Probably not. They don’t have kids, so they’ll be asleep for HOURS yet. Lucky bastards.
The upside of getting up at an ungodly hour is that it makes the weekend seem much, MUCH longer. Yesterday, for instance, we had all eaten breakfast, played, watched some TV, and cleaned the whole house from top to bottom by 10:30 a.m. That left us plenty of time to go on a picnic, take naps, do the grocery shopping, and make dinner. (Heck, with that much time we probably also could have road-tripped to Niagara Falls, run a marathon, and completed a 2,000-piece puzzle.)
While I am SO not a morning person it’s not even funny, both my kids are. Ironic, huh? In fact, it’s their best time of day. Fueled by a full-night’s sleep and some Cheerios, they’re off and running. Also, shrieking, giggling, climbing on furniture, upending the toy box, and riding on the dog. They’re like little energy vampires in dinosaur pajamas, those two.
Hubs and I trade off on who gets to sleep in on weekends. Saturdays, he gets up with them; Sundays, I do. The supreme injustice is when the kids inexplicably decide to sleep until 7:30 on your morning to stay in bed. No fair! If your spouse isn’t forced to suffer those pre-dawn hours, it’s just not as satisfying.
Although “sleeping in” is a bit of a misnomer. First of all, C. usually leaves our bedroom door open, meaning all the shrieks, squawks, and squabbles travel right up the stairs to my tender ears. Thanks, guys.
You would not BELIEVE how loud my children are unless you heard it yourself. Sometimes it sounds like a rugby scrum in the kitchen. Sometimes it sounds like a bowling alley. Sometimes it sounds like cats in heat clog-dancing on a tile floor covered with broken plates. And sometimes it sounds like a whole lot of screaming and crying.
Any way you slice it, it’s LOUD. And not at all conducive to a leisurely lie-in. (Isn’t that what the British call it? Love that. Much nicer than the French “faire la grasse matinee,” which translates literally to “make a fat morning.” Gross.) Oh, well, sleeping in is overrated.
... Right. And so is being rich, thin, and married to David Beckham.
LINK O’ THE WEEK: Maybe this article will convince you: “10 Benefits of Rising Early, and How to Do It”
4/16/10
Sleep Glossary
Admit it, you're obsessed with who’s getting it, who’s not, when, where, and how often.
I mean SLEEP, people!! That's a subject new parents become intimately familiar with.
Sometimes I'll find myself having lengthy, detailed discussions about nap schedules with complete strangers. If they're also parents of young kids, they're just as absorbed with the topic as I am. If not, their eyes glaze over after the first 2 minutes.
I've spent so much time thinking about sleep that I came up with a glossary of sleep terms. Here it is, new and improved, over at TheBump.com:
3/10/10
Early Bird
The baby has decided to make a liar out of me. Remember how I said now that he’s 1 he’s gotten a lot easier? WRONG. Don't let this picture fool you. The past 3 days in a row he’s decided to wake up crying at 4:30 a.m. Not just whimpering and falling back to sleep. Wide awake, hollering at the top of his lungs. Why? Teething? A dirty diaper? A burning desire to watch infomercials? Who knows. Any attempts to coax him back to sleep in his room or ours are futile. It’s like wrestling a bobcat.
Needless to say, being forced awake before the sun’s up sets the tone for the rest of the day. By the time 10 a.m. rolls around, it feels like it should be 5 p.m. No such luck. I have tried to rest when Riley goes back down for his nap, but that plan is foiled by someone else: his brother.
Miles’ idea of “quiet time” is to jump repeatedly off his bed onto the floor, or to build intricate structures out of books and blocks and then crash into them with his trucks. I’d have a more restful nap backstage at a Metallica concert.
Also, I cannot WAIT until Riley learns to talk. He has no problems being HEARD, mind you, it’s just that his primary means of communication is a range of high-pitched screams. “AAAAAHHHHH!” means “Come get me out of this crib immediately!” while “UUUUUHHHHHHH!!!” means “You are not feeding me at a sufficiently swift pace.” There are other screams that mean “Give me that toy back” and “How dare you keep me out of the cabinet where you store the toxic cleaning products!”
In between the screeching and clawing and not sleeping, he is actually quite cute. Lucky for him.
I’m sure there is something witty or pithy or profound I could say here. But waking up at 4:30 a.m. does not render me at my peak mental performance, shall we say. I’m lucky I can string a sentence together.
So, hey -– if there are any rowers or bakers or newspaper delivery people out there who need help getting up extra, extra, EXTRA early? I’m happy to lend you my screeching bobcat alarm clock. If the noise doesn’t wake you, the aroma from his diaper sure will.
QUOTE O’ THE WEEK: “When I grow up I’m doing to be a donut maker and a diver.” –Miles, age 3. Good luck with that, son. And make mine a maple frosted.
12/21/09
Joy to the World, the Baby Slept!
Joy to the world, the baby slept!
He slept right through the night;
From 7 p.m. to 6 a.m.,
He let mama and dada sleep,
He let mama and dada sleep,
He let mama, poor mama, and dada sleep!
That’s right, people. Riley slept through the night for the FIRST. TIME. EVER. In his nearly 10 mos. of life, that’s an unprecedented event. (Except for that one time he had a fever and slept for 7 hrs. but that doesn’t count.) Not only that, but he’s done it 3 nights in a row.
It’s almost as if he KNEW I was at the end of my rope. Either that, or it was letting him cry for 45 min. straight the first night. Here’s what happened: I reread Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child
The book reinforced what I guess I already knew: that at 9 mos. old, Riley does not need to be waking up 1-4x/night. In fact, I’m doing him a disservice by responding to him, because I’m not allowing him to get the rest he needs. Also, Weissbluth is a bit of a nap nazi. So for 3 days straight, I made sure Riley was down at 9 a.m., 2 p.m. and in bed by 7 p.m. And it WORKED!!!
I don’t think it’s so much that the book was a miracle solution, but rather it’s due to a combination of factors, including stopping nursing, his age, and giving him more food. (I switched from 6 oz. to 8 oz. of formula at night and 1 jar of baby food per meal to 2.)
Anyway, I don’t need to tell you the thrill I felt when I heard him stirring -- first clue something was different: he was cooing, not crying -- and I looked at the clock expecting it to say 3 a.m. and it said 6:24 a.m. I immediately woke up my husband to tell him the good news! :)
I also don’t need to tell anybody who’s ever suffered an extended bout of sleep deprivation what a HUGE difference an uninterrupted night’s sleep makes to a person’s wellbeing. I was a ball of Christmas spirit the next day! Adding to my festive mood was the 16-inch snowfall (!!) we got. Made all the more wonderful because it happened on a weekend and Daddy was home to shovel it and take Miles out to play in it for hours!
Meanwhile, I policed Riley’s naps, got the house in order (including going through the foot-high stack of mail on the counter), organized and uploaded all the pictures and videos, displayed the Christmas cards, put away laundry, changed sheets. You know, all those things you don’t have time to do during the week with 2 hooligans underfoot. Also, C. prepared almost ALL the meals. Heaven! Of course, his fancy-schmancy strawberry French toast and tuna melts are going to be a tough act to follow, but whatever.
Now that I’m feeling rested and festive and grateful, I’d like to extend a sincere thank-you to all my faithful readers and commenters out there. Seriously, you don’t know (or maybe you do!) what a boost you give me. It really is like having a virtual community of moms who are in the trenches with you. Hugs all around!
LINK O’ THE WEEK: Writer and mom Holly Bowne shares 20 Tips for Savoring the Holidays. I commented that some days my gratitude list includes only “babysitters” and “wine.”
11/5/09
You WILL Sleep Again (Someday)
This morning I talked to a friend who had a baby 5 weeks ago. (Congrats again, M.C.! Thanks for inspiring today’s post.) She’s in the stage of new motherhood I affectionately call the “what the hell did I get myself into?” stage. The stage where the post-birth euphoria has worn off, your help has gone home, Daddy’s gone back to work, and the baby has decided to reveal her true colors.
The stage where you go, “Oh, THAT’S why people kept harping about getting my rest while I still could.” When you realize weeks of sleep deprivation really is that bad and WORSE. When you wonder how in the hell people can do this more than once, and what the heck you were thinking when you were all, “Sure! Great! Let’s have a baby! It’ll be FUN!”
My friend said something that made me laugh. Another woman in her new mom’s group said she sees people with toddlers and is in awe that anybody lasts that long. It’s so true. As a new mom, you can’t imagine making it through the next DAY, let alone the next 18+ years.
The people who come up to new moms and tell them to enjoy every minute because it goes so fast don’t realize how much they’re endangering themselves, making those comments to an unstable, sleep-deprived, possibly homicidal new mom. (Here’s my rant against those people.)
So how DO people survive the tough early stages of babyhood? And the arguably tougher stages that follow it? I’ll tell you how the BABIES survive. As my mom says, “God made babies cute so we wouldn’t leave them on a hillside.”
But seriously, the answer is -- you get used to it. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, you learn to function on much, MUCH less sleep. You begin to think of showering not as a daily necessity, but as an optional activity. You become a devotee of Drs. Karp, Weissbluth, and possibly Ferber. Through the process of trial and error, you figure out what your baby likes and doesn’t like. (My friend has already discovered what she calls “the magical fleece blanket.”)
Soon, you will think nothing of whipping out a boob in public and sniffing your baby’s butt. You may have long, passionate discussions about sleep schedules and nipple cream – with strangers. You consider it a good day if the baby “only” screamed for 3 hours or “only” woke up 4 times during the night. Coming in frequent contact with another person’s vomit and feces no longer fazes you. You simply dab at it with a baby wipe and go about your day.
Yep, life after baby is a strange new world, people.
Who was it that said, “If you’re going through hell, keep on going”? That’s pretty much all you can do. And believe it or not, it WILL get better. One day you’ll wake up with a jolt at 6 a.m. and realize the baby FINALLY slept through the night. One evening you’ll notice a strange sound in the house and realize the baby ISN’T screaming. And one night long, LONG after you’ve given birth, you may turn to your husband and not only NOT hate him anymore, but actually feel attracted to him again. I know -- crazy talk!!
But if it wasn’t true, how would the human race continue to reproduce? Because after the “what the hell did I get myself into?” stage eventually comes the “it wasn’t really so bad” stage. And that, my friends, is how you end up with Baby #2 and beyond. Consider yourselves warned.
TIP O’ THE WEEK: If you’re not intimately familiar with the 5 S’s, run -- don’t walk -- to Amazon.com and order The Happiest Baby on the Block
8/13/09
Baby: 165, Mom: 0
The baby is winning. The score is Baby: 165, Mom: 0. The 165 represents the approximate number of nights since Riley was born. The 0 is how many of those I’ve gotten a full night’s sleep. Just to reiterate, that’s ZERO, people.
Now, the “sleeping through the night” concept is about as clear as mud. The baby books consider 5 consecutive hours to be sleeping through the night. My neighbor’s baby sleeps from 8 p.m. to 8 a.m. I’d even take 12:30 to 5:30 a.m. at this point. But however you define it, MY BABY ISN’T DOING IT.
It shouldn’t be that big of a shock, since my first baby didn’t sleep through the night until I had completely stopped breastfeeding him around 10 mos. But while Miles woke up, it was generally only once, around 2 a.m. or so, and he’d nurse and go right back to sleep. Whereas Riley is ready to rock at 11 p.m., 2, 4, and 5:30 a.m. Sometimes he throws in a 1 a.m. show just for the heck of it. He’ll be wide awake, yelling and hollering, like, “Will someone get in here and entertain me already?” And don’t even THINK about letting him cry it out because everyone in our zip code would pay dearly for that mistake.
Miles was no piece of cake as a baby, but I knew even back then he was a good sleeper. He decided on his own bedtime around 3 mos. Then we just fed him, rolled him into the crib, and left the room. We could watch entire movies in one evening after we put him down. We had it made.
So this whole “sleep training” concept was foreign to me. I read all the books (OK, skimmed them), but all the tricks and tips for getting your baby to sleep like moving the chair closer and closer to the door each night struck me as pure insanity.
Of course now, I’d try all those things in a heartbeat -- except for the fact that we have a 3-year-old asleep in the next room. Can someone tell me why none of the sleep books mention siblings? Does Dr. Weissbluth honestly expect me to let my baby scream for A FULL HOUR at 3 a.m. when his brother’s trying to catch some Z’s next door? And did I mention JUST HOW LOUD my baby’s scream is? It makes Mariah Carey sound like she’s whispering when she hits those high notes.
We’ve tried instituting a solid bedtime routine, with a bath and lavender-scented lotion and soft music. We’ve tried letting him fuss for short periods to see if he falls back to sleep. We’ve tried sending Dad into the room to settle him back down with the pacifier. This just pisses him off. (Riley, not Dad. Well, maybe him, too.) We’ve started him on solids already and even given him formula at night. We’ve put him on reflux meds. None of this makes any difference whatsoever.
I suspect it’s because there’s nothing really wrong with this baby. He’s just a huge mama’s boy. He can’t stand to be separated from me for more than 3 hrs. at a time. Sometimes, even an hour is too much. Like at the gym the other day, when they pulled me out of a yoga class to tell me they couldn’t calm him down. (Really? An entire staff of childcare professionals can’t calm a crying baby? Even for an hour? Might want to rethink your line of work then.)
Anyway, I walked into the kids’ area and picked up my red-faced, screaming baby. He shut off the waterworks like a faucet. With tears still glistening on his cheeks, he looked at me with an enormous gummy grin that said, “Mama! You’ve come back to me at last! Let us never be separated again, my love.”
OK, but does that have to include the hours between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.?
VIDEO O’ THE WEEK: Riley can’t get enough of his rice cereal.
