Toddler fatigue

I’m beginning to realize more fully every day that I am completely unprepared to parent a toddler.  I would probably say that, oh, 99% of people would probably make the same comment, but that doesn’t make me feel any better knowing that I’m in good company.

Surviving the infancy of my daughter was hard.  The lack of sleep, the lack of freedom as you are homebound with a tiny and helpless human.  The never ending cycle of a new baby- eat, poop, sleep, cry, eat, poop, sleep, cry…But, infants do sleep a lot.  And if they aren’t sleeping, they’re usually pretty content if they’re held or being fed.  They don’t move much, they don’t need much entertainment, and they eat the same thing all the time.  So simple!

Surviving toddler-hood may prove impossible.  When my daughter was about 4 months old we could tell she would be an extremely active baby and little girl by the way she would wildly pump her arms and legs on a regular basis.  Our prediction was spot-on.  My now 15 month old never stops moving.  She is always exploring something.  She likes lot of action and entertainment.  She is a smart and sweet little thing.  But she has an uncanny way of driving me truly crazy.

Not only does she still not sleep and lately she still poops 4 frickin’ times a day, but the ever-changing eating habits, the need to be constantly on the move, and the frequent whining/groaning/grunting/screeching  jags due to boredom or teething pain or who knows what has me exhausted and feeling as though I am on the edge of losing it.  I have a complete understanding of the phrase bone tired. And the stubbornness!  Oh, the stubbornness!

I know these years are precious, and in many ways I do love them.  But some days I wonder how on earth I am going to survive another day (or night) like the one I just endured.

Tags: toddlers

One of those days

Here I was, looking forward to the weekend with the naive hope that it would offer some relief from the stress of the workweek.  Sadly, my hopes have been dashed.  Here is how the last 24 hours have gone:

- The kid wakes up over and over in the night for unspecified reasons.  When I demanded an answer at 3:00 AM as to why she insisted on waking me up again all I got was an “eh?” in response.  I think she’s faking that she doesn’t understand the question.

-  The kid decides after not sleeping all night that waking up for the day at 6:15 AM is a great idea.

-  Husband leaves for work at 7:45 AM, leaving a tired and very grumpy mama with a teething and also grumpy toddler.  Brewing a recipe for disaster commences.

-  As I am attemtping to make myself decent, I realize the house is eerily quiet.  No noise from the kid in the next room.  I go to inspect and discover her emptying my purse and being particularly taken with the bright red lipstick in there.  In order to investigate this exciting new product further, the kid decides to taste it, smear it on her jammies, and rub it on the carpet.  Awesome.

- The kid spends the rest of the morning ignoring my attempts to distract her with fun items (”Look, honey, a plastic spoon!”) and fakes that she doesn’t understand the word “no”.  I know she is faking because the entire time she is doing something naughty she says “no” repeatedly.  Multiple time-outs ensue.

-  The kid decides that the mild whining and grunting over the last couple of hours has not been sufficient and decides to screech incessantly at the top of her lungs, over NOTHING.

-  Oh, did I mention that through all of this mama has PMS= the overwhelming feeling that I am completely unable to cope with life in general?  I didn’t mention that?  Silly me, since that has made everything exponentially worse.

- 1:00 PM.  I’ve had it.  The countdown to when daddy gets home has begun.  Thankfully, the kid is taking a nap.

The bright beacon of hope shining through all of this today has been the knowledge that tonight I get to go to the SYTYCD live concert.  YEAH!  If I can just keep that in my sights, I think I’ll make it through the next five hours…

Tags: feeling crazy, PMS, whining

I hit the wall

I was pretty darn proud of myself for posting for 5 whole days straight.  And like, real posts, you know? 

I think my streak is over.  I’m tapped out.  My brain is slowly shutting down in preparation for the weekend. 

I’m so happy its the weekend.  Holy crap, I’m glad this week is over.  In all reality I’ve had much, much worse weeks.  But I’m still ready to be done.

Sorry for the lame-o post.  Let’s hope this weekend brings something interesting to write about!

Tags: lame-o

Take me out to the ballgame

For the first time in my entire life I have become (somewhat) interested in baseball.  I actually watched the majority of the World Series and the games leading up to it.  Some of them I even watched on my own!  FREAKY, I know! I hardly even recognize myself.  A couple of years ago we went to a Yankees/Red Sox game in NY, which was a lifelong dream of the hubby’s.  The significance of the event was completely lost on me.  All I could think about was how blasted hot I was, and should I eat another hot dog?

I happened to marry an enormous Yankees fan.  Well, just a huge sports fan in general, but the Yankees are one of his favorites.  I’ve always been of the opinion that baseball is b-o-r-i-n-g, especially on TV.  I usually enjoy watching most other sports, but baseball made me all sorts of irritated and antsy and sleepy, all at the same time.  I think a big part of it is that I don’t understand the rules or strategies at all.  It took me years (literally, years) to figure out what a first down in football was (I swear I’m not stupid, just uninterested…or so I’d like to think).  Once I finally figured out what all these “downs” the announcers were talking about I started to enjoy football a whole lot more.

Now that I’m starting to get a tiny inkling of the strategy of baseball its become more interesting to me.  I think the fact that it was the playoffs helped a lot.  I also think I’ve gained an appreciation for it because its a great source of background entertainment when you have a toddler.  It doesn’t require a whole lot of concentration or thinking, and I can even look away for a few minutes to attend to the wee one and when I look back, the same guy is still up to bat!  I haven’t missed a thing!  Ever tried to watch Lost or something while taking care of a toddler on your own?  DOESN’T WORK.

Anyway, since I still am pretty clueless about baseball in general, I tend to pepper the hubby with questions.  You know, intelligent ones that any guy would want to answer during a game, such as:

“What’s that little phone they talk on all the time?”

“Why is he called a ‘manager’ and not a ‘coach’?  That doesn’t make sense… all the other sports teams have coaches.”

“Why do the pitchers sit somewhere else?’

“Why do they have to make the uniforms so unflattering?”

“Its raining!  Why don’t they all wear long sleeves?”

“How many pitchers does the team have, anyway?  Seems like a lot.”

“Doesn’t it hurt their elbow to throw that hard?”

“Why does Derek Jeter have such an ugly haircut?”

“Why is he the closer?  Is it because he’s a dependable?  Or just really good?  Or both?  Is he your favorite?”

“Ew, why do they have to spit so much?”

“What do all those numbers mean?”

“And those numbers…?”

“Who’s that guy?”

“And who’s that guy?  Is he good?”

“What about that guy, who is he?”

Yep, my husband is a lucky man indeed to have his wife join him for the games.

All you other guys should be SO jealous.

Tags: baseball, sports, the hubby

Its a hard knock life

Last night as we were getting ready for bed Claire woke up very unhappy.  As in screaming-her-guts-out unhappy.  After trying everything I could think of to soothe her I figured that something was hurting her and decided to check her diaper.  Sure enough, her poor, precious little bum was so red it was practically glowing in the dim light.

As I commenced cleaning her up the little thing writhed and screeched and shook from the pain.  Oh!  Could my heart break any more?  I ended up a a hot mess with tears streaming down my face, later followed by a brief cry in the bathroom because it hurt my heart to see my baby so unhappy.  Could I be more pathetic?  I’m crying over diaper rash! Can you imagine what a wreck I would be if something truly traumatizing were to happen?  I’m totally not tough enough for this motherhood thing.

So this morning Claire is still rather uncomfortable and is trying to avoid sitting on her little derriere and having crying spells where she reaches for me, desperate for comfort.  During one of these fits of pain I was trying to cuddle and comfort her, and I happened to look into her mouth to see four little white points that weren’t there just a couple of days ago.  The poor thing is cutting a molar (with another one coming in on the other side too), and has a bright red tush to boot.

Being a baby is tough!  I’ll take worries about money and what to make for dinner ANY DAY over a burning butt and spikes coming through my gums.

Tags: diaper rash, teething

Like clockwork

Men are so weird.

I grew up in a family with all sisters, no brothers, so I don’t think I really got the full idea of how guys are.  Sure, my dad lived there, but he was my dad.  Needless to say, getting married was a pretty big eye opener for me.  And I’ve had it easy, my hubby is generally very well mannered and not the usual gross boy.

One thing I’m still discovering, after 3 years of marriage, is that men are nothing without their routine.  If one thing gets off in their personal schedule the whole day might as well go down the drain.

This morning the hubby and I were up a little early due to the fact we are still adjusting to daylight savings.  As a result, he could get ready for school at leisure and had plenty of time before he had to leave.  Normally he doesn’t eat breakfast because he tries to sleep as long as possible before he absolutely must get up and get ready.  But today, I assumed he would want breakfast since he had time, and who wouldn’t want to eat when given the opportunity?  I know that I always look forward to my next opportunity to eat.  You know, like a normal person.

Except when I asked him what he wanted for breakfast he said wanted nothing.  Nothing?  Huh?  He said he had to leave for class.  “But you don’t have to leave for at least another 10 minutes.  That’s plenty of time to down a couple of Eggo’s!” I insisted.  He said he didn’t want to rush.  “Well then, just grab a quick bowl of cereal.  You don’t want to be hungry, do you?” I pressed.  No thanks.  “Are you nuts?  Why on earth would you willingly go hungry for the next 3 hours?”  I couldn’t understand this crazy man’s logic.

Finally he came clean with a sigh, “I don’t want to throw off my schedule.  If I eat now, I’ll have to eat lunch early, and then I’ll be hungry in the afternoon.”

Me: *Blink…blink*  “So, eat a snack in the afternoon.  It makes no sense to go hungry if you don’t have to.”

Him: “No, I want to eat just 3 meals a day.  I have to stick to the schedule.”

Seriously, this logic is completely baffling to me.  I have no eating schedule.  I eat when I’m hungry, I don’t eat if I’m not.  I eat when food is available, I don’t eat if there isn’t any.  Simple as that.  And since I know you’re dying to know, same with my bathroom habits.  I go when I need to, and don’t go if there is no need.  Logical, right?  No schedule.  I’m footloose and fancy free!

Crazy hubby, on the other hand, has an iron-clad bathroom regimen, especially in the morning.  If things don’t go according to schedule, his whole day is off.  Apparently his eating habits must go as planned too.  And I know his sleep must stay on schedule.  If he gets more than 30 minutes off for even one night he wakes up the next morning insisting he is getting a cold due to lack of sleep.  Personally, I think it’s all in his head. 

Are all men like this?  Are women like this too and I’m just the weird one??

Tags: schedules, the hubby, weird

1 step forward, 4 steps back (or something like that)

For my job I manage a team of sales/customer service reps.  For the past year and a half I have been managing a specialty team (as in, we do something special in the company).  I have loved my specialty team.  Seriously, the most hard working, dependable, mature, and fun group of people.  All of them genuinely good people.  Love them.

A week ago it was decided that I would be switched back to a “regular” team, due to several changes in the structure of the company.  Sigh…

So, I am in the beginning stages of getting to know my new team, and I’m sure there are oodles of lovely people.  But based off the exposure I’ve had with a few individuals so far things are not looking promising.  Imagine that you have been teaching college students for the past while.  Then suddenly, due to circumstances beyond your control, you are forced to teach 6th graders instead.  Where you were once accustomed to having intelligent coversations and feeling productive, you are now playing babysitter as your student can’t figure out how to work his computer and he wants you to fix it.

Say it with me people: AWESOME.

Tags: immature, work

National Blog Posting Month

Well, technically from what I understand it’s National Novel Writing Month, or something like that, where you attempt to write an entire novel in 30 days.  Who does that?  I’d have to quit my job and everything to even attempt that.

So, instead, I’ve decided to attempt NaBloPoMo and post every day for the next 30 days.  This should be interesting.  What the dickens am I going to write about every single day for an entire month?

We shall see!

All work and no play makes mama a dull girl

I should be doing homework, but I’m not.  I should be cleaning my house or something, but I’m not.  I should most defintiely be working out, but again, I’m not.

I’m p r o c r a s t i n a t i n g.  How fun!  And if you’re reading this, I think you might be too.

Have you ever known one of those people that seems to be sprinting ALL THE TIME?  I mean seriously, the kind of person that says something like, “I haven’t sat down to watch a TV show in years!”  when you ask them what they think of the latest cast of So You Think You Can Dance (best show EVER, by the way, in case you were wondering).  And then you feel dumb because you do have enough time to sit down and watch TV.  But then you realize it’s not really a matter of time, but maybe a matter of stamina?  And, I suppose, priorities?  Pfft. Priorities!  Ha!

Yeah, there are lots of people like that in my life.  It all started with my piano teacher when I was growing up.  She vacuumed her house every day.  Every day!  And baked bread and froze it just in case someone in the neighborhood could use it.  And she exercised every day.  And took care of her daughter’s kids (not to mention her daughter).  And her hair was always big and poofy and perfect.  And she always wore make-up, including lipstick!  And had matching accessories (including a variety of watches that fascinated me).  And she taught piano lessons all the time.  And then she’d take these extravagant trips to Venezuala to go scuba diving with her husband.  When asked once how she did it all she said she only needed about 4-5 hours of sleep a night.  Oh, and did I mention she had arthritis?  But still got everything done all the frickin’ time?

This woman became the standard of amazingness for my mother and I.  Since then if we’d find someone else that was constantly going, going, going, we’d say “Oh, she’s a Barbara Paulsen, that one!”

My best friend is one of those.  I fully realized this when this last Christmas she drove 25 minutes to my house to deliver a plate of goodies on a beautiful Christmas platter.  Included on it was homemade zucchini bread, made from the zucchini she grew in her garden.  Which somehow she did between taking a full load of nursing classes.  And working.  And keeping up a beautifully decorated house.  And cooking healthy meals for her husband.  And running/weight-lifting to stay healthy.  And tending her niece.  AND, oh goodness, she crochets baby blankets to keep on hand for when a friend or coworkers announces a pregnancy.  PLUS, she has struggled with a mysterious digestive illness that has regularly put her in the hospital and caused almost daily pain and discomfort.  Yeah, she is definitely one of those.

I am not one of those.

I like to watch TV.

Tags: procrastination

Sweet dreams

One of the biggest challenges we’ve faced with our daughter is sleep.  She is over a year old now, and still rarely sleeps through the night.  At one point, as an infant, she would often wake up 6+ times a night.  As you can imagine, we felt like zombies.  And believe me, we tried everything, at least it seemed that way.  She just isn’t a good sleeper, end of story.

The hubby and I often fantasize about sleep.  Sweet, sweet sleep…  An uninterrupted eight hours of blissful shut-eye…

But, you know what?  These days, I don’t really mind getting up with my little girl at 4:00 in the morning. I groan as I hear her cries floating from the other room, mentally willing her to just go back to sleep.  I sigh as I roll out of bed.  Now that it is getting colder leaving my warm bed carries even more of a sting than it did before, and I groan again.

I stumble into my baby’s room, one eye barely cracked as I approach the crib, where she is standing with arms outreached for me.  I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but scoop her up with her beloved blankie and sit down to rock her in the dark.

It’s a rare and precious moment.  She is still- something that never happens through the course of the day anymore.  I cuddle her, my arms full of baby.  I look at her long legs draped across my lap, her feet dangling off the edge, and I think about how she used to fit on just one arm of mine.

We rock quietly, and I can hear her give a deep and contented sigh.  Her soft body rises and falls with her breaths, and without realizing it I rock to the rythm of her breathing.

When I can tell she is good and sleepy, I carefully stand up to place her in her crib, whispering “night-night” to her again before I tip-toe out.

As I slide back under my comforter, I feel relieved that she is asleep and cross my fingers she will stay in that state for a few more hours.  At the same time though, I am grateful for the peaceful moment spent together in the dark.  I feel a warmth spread through me as I recall her long eyelashes resting on her cheeks, the shape of her mouth as she drifts to sleep.

Sometimes, when she does sleep through the night, I miss her.

She won’t need me for much longer.  Eventually she will be a “big girl”.  Independent, unafraid, and happy to be on her own.  And when that happens, I will probably lie awake at night, wishing I could go in to cuddle her in the quiet darkness.

Tags: love, sleep