So, the last few days have had their ups and downs. Randy has been working crazy-long hours, and with those hours exhaustion tends to tag along for the ride. So, when he comes home he is crabby, and he doesn't always remember to say simple things like "how was your day?" or "what did YOU do today?"
That's hard for me, I am used to giving Randy a detailed run-down of the day. But, a lot of days in the last few weeks, Randy gets home and I'm either in bed, or putting Finn to bed, so that makes the talking difficult.
And...ya know, I'm pregnant too. So I've got all that stuff going on too...tired, listless, headaches, body aches, crappy attitude, backaches, etc.
And, Finn, oh Finn. I love that kid so, but he is INTENSE from time to time. He inherited a little OCD from his Mama, so he likes his clothes on just so, and his milk in a specific cup, and a certain color spoon, and things that I almost always find adorable, have been driving me a little bit insane. And the destruction has reached an all-time high. I've never met a child who loves to destroy like Finn loves to destroy. He builds towers to knock them down; he makes things to rip them up.
I try my best, I really do to be patient, and accept who he is, and not dampen his spirit, but sometimes he is just downright naughty, and days are too long, and too lonely.
Yesterday was one of those days. We were at Jorie's house until 6, and had some cleaning to do at home, and each and every thing I tried to clean up, Finn wanted to take out and destroy some more. And finally, it was bedtime. We fought about brushing teeth, we fought about putting jammies on, we fought about going potty.
Eventually we fell into bed (okay, he jumped, I fell). And all I wanted was to read a book and go to sleep. And so we read, and Finn nestled into me. I turned around so I was facing away from him.
And then I heard his little, sweet voice. He said, "Mama, I want to hold you hand." And I turned around, and he snuggled into me, just melted into my body, held my hand and then fell asleep.
And I couldn't believe that I had been frustrated and on the verge of tears ten minutes earlier. I couldn't believe that I made it into such a big deal (which I still totally think was justified). I was just so damn happy to be with that little boy at that moment.
Because it's fleeting.
Tomorrow he may wake up and not want to snuggle me while he sleeps, and while I know a big part of me would celebrate and throw a giant party, there is still another big part of me that would mourn it. That will miss him wanting me to comfort him, and knowing how safe he is with me.
It was a good moment, and I'm trying hard to hold onto it.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Shit happens
So...yesterday was an interesting day.
Those of you who know ANYTHING about my life, know that Finn is not a great sleeper. He has never been a great sleeper. He's probably slept from 9-11 hours in a row...maybe 10-15 times in his entire life. He came out as a terrible sleeper.
We tried to let him sleep in the bouncer, the swing, finally in bed with us. It made it better, but never made it go away.
I have read books, I have listened to people (especially older women) wax poetically about sleep training, and what I'm doing wrong.
Finally, somewhere along the road, my friend Jorie told me "listen, it's possible that he's just not a good sleeper, and that nothing you do could change it" (paraphrasing...even though it's in quotes, just go with it). I accepted that.
Could I have slept trained my child? Maybe. Could I have done things along the way that were wrong, or that lead him down this sleep-harried path? Yeah, probably. But, whatever, I'm not convinced that it would have made a ton of difference in his sleep patterns.
Well, when Gus and V started coming here, I did my own version of sleep-training Finn. Let's call it nap-training. I got Finn to lay in bed ALONE and go to sleep ALONE. It took a few weeks, but seeing Gus and V go to sleep on their own must have clicked some kind of "my mom isn't bat-shit insane" reflex in Finn and he went with it. For months.
However, over the past 1-2 months Finn has gotten challenging again. He gets up, runs around, breaks things in my room, screws around and I have to go into the room at least 6-7 times before he will actually CALM HIMSELF down and go the eff to sleep.
It's frustrating, because he's being loud as he is doing this, and he's waking other children up, and keeping me from cleaning up, working out, etc.
So, anyways, yesterday I tried to put Finn to sleep, and I tried and TRIED and TRIED for over an hour to get the kid to fall asleep. Eventually, after one trip to the potty, one glass of milk, one "lay with me a minute" and two books, I said to Finn "I am leaving this room, and you are going to sleep. Mommy is not coming back." This was at 1:15 (yes, I put him to sleep at 12 p.m.).
I went and took a shower, and started watching an episode of The Walking Dead. I heard him bustling around in there, was annoyed, but decided I wasn't going to go in there again.
Genevive woke up at 2, I went in and gave her her milk, then I went in my room to get Finn.
I was assaulted by the smell of poop, and I thought to myself "oh. shit."
I slowly opened the door. and there were Finn's pants and underwear on the floor, covered in poop. I looked at Finn, he was covered in poop, his arms, legs and hands were completely covered in poop. And he was asleep. In my bed. On my comforter, in MY bed.
Are you kidding me?
Then, I turned around. And I saw the door. The door was LITERALLY painted with poop. Like, the child picked up the poop from his pants and tried to paint the door with it.
You think I'm exaggerating?
Yep. That was my bedroom door, please notice the floor as well. I did not have the time to photograph the bed, or my child.
I ripped him out of bed, and pretty much threw him crying into the bathtub and cleaned him off, just Finn.
Because at this point...we had about 15 minutes to get 3 kids out the door to pick up 3 more.
But...oh.my.gosh.
It was so ridiculous.
It took me two hours to clean up the entire mess, and the carpet is still not completely clean.
I know that I will laugh about this one day.
Not today, but maybe one day.
Those of you who know ANYTHING about my life, know that Finn is not a great sleeper. He has never been a great sleeper. He's probably slept from 9-11 hours in a row...maybe 10-15 times in his entire life. He came out as a terrible sleeper.
We tried to let him sleep in the bouncer, the swing, finally in bed with us. It made it better, but never made it go away.
I have read books, I have listened to people (especially older women) wax poetically about sleep training, and what I'm doing wrong.
Finally, somewhere along the road, my friend Jorie told me "listen, it's possible that he's just not a good sleeper, and that nothing you do could change it" (paraphrasing...even though it's in quotes, just go with it). I accepted that.
Could I have slept trained my child? Maybe. Could I have done things along the way that were wrong, or that lead him down this sleep-harried path? Yeah, probably. But, whatever, I'm not convinced that it would have made a ton of difference in his sleep patterns.
Well, when Gus and V started coming here, I did my own version of sleep-training Finn. Let's call it nap-training. I got Finn to lay in bed ALONE and go to sleep ALONE. It took a few weeks, but seeing Gus and V go to sleep on their own must have clicked some kind of "my mom isn't bat-shit insane" reflex in Finn and he went with it. For months.
However, over the past 1-2 months Finn has gotten challenging again. He gets up, runs around, breaks things in my room, screws around and I have to go into the room at least 6-7 times before he will actually CALM HIMSELF down and go the eff to sleep.
It's frustrating, because he's being loud as he is doing this, and he's waking other children up, and keeping me from cleaning up, working out, etc.
So, anyways, yesterday I tried to put Finn to sleep, and I tried and TRIED and TRIED for over an hour to get the kid to fall asleep. Eventually, after one trip to the potty, one glass of milk, one "lay with me a minute" and two books, I said to Finn "I am leaving this room, and you are going to sleep. Mommy is not coming back." This was at 1:15 (yes, I put him to sleep at 12 p.m.).
I went and took a shower, and started watching an episode of The Walking Dead. I heard him bustling around in there, was annoyed, but decided I wasn't going to go in there again.
Genevive woke up at 2, I went in and gave her her milk, then I went in my room to get Finn.
I was assaulted by the smell of poop, and I thought to myself "oh. shit."
I slowly opened the door. and there were Finn's pants and underwear on the floor, covered in poop. I looked at Finn, he was covered in poop, his arms, legs and hands were completely covered in poop. And he was asleep. In my bed. On my comforter, in MY bed.
Are you kidding me?
Then, I turned around. And I saw the door. The door was LITERALLY painted with poop. Like, the child picked up the poop from his pants and tried to paint the door with it.
You think I'm exaggerating?
I'm not.
Not at all.
Yep. That was my bedroom door, please notice the floor as well. I did not have the time to photograph the bed, or my child.
I ripped him out of bed, and pretty much threw him crying into the bathtub and cleaned him off, just Finn.
Because at this point...we had about 15 minutes to get 3 kids out the door to pick up 3 more.
But...oh.my.gosh.
It was so ridiculous.
It took me two hours to clean up the entire mess, and the carpet is still not completely clean.
I know that I will laugh about this one day.
Not today, but maybe one day.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Baby #2
One of the things that I haven't written about much on this blog is baby #2, and so I thought I'd write something about him today. It's crazy how different it is when you're pregnant with your second child, even Randy has commented on it.
With Finn, our entire world was consumed with being pregnant. Everything that we did, every conversation that we had, everything centered around that.
With baby 2, it hasn't been so intense...our focus is, yes, on this sweet baby, but also on Finn, and life and work. We understand things more, there aren't so many questions, there aren't so many things to research...we feel more at ease with the idea of a baby in general.
One thing that doesn't change is the excitement, and I feel like the excitement even gets a little bit MORE exciting, because I get to share that excitement with Finn, and get to explain how exciting being a big brother is going to be. Finn got to have his first real "glimpse" of the baby yesterday. Randy and I have had 2 previous ultrasounds, but we haven't taken Finn to either of them. The baby didn't look a whole lot like a baby yet, and we didn't want to have to chase after him during these ultrasounds. However, yesterday, I don't know why, but I thought it was important to take him. I thought he would understand, and he would like it. I am still not sure if I was right or wrong?
The day started out wonderfully, we didn't get out of bed until 8:30, which is unheard of, but apparently daylight savings time is still messing with Finn's internal clock, which I am COMPLETELY fine with. We woke up, got ready, and went to visit the chiropractor (I've been having some pretty bad sciatica pain with this pregnancy, and the chiropractor is REALLY helping), and then made our way to visit Kathy and Alexis.
Finn and Alexis are just about the cutest thing on the planet together. They play so well, share and just do a great job. They are just a pleasure to watch play together. We spent some time playing at Kathy's house, and then made our way to the mall for a while.
These weekly playdates with Kathy and Alexis have become quite a tradition, and something that we both look forward to all week. I'm so grateful to have someone in my life that truly seems to fully understand me, and lets me be myself.
On the way home, Finn fell asleep and slept until ultrasound time. I was seriously concerned that Randy wouldn't be able to make the ultrasound, because he's had to work such ridiculous hours lately.
We jumped in the car, and went to the ultrasound (while I downed by 32 ounces of water). When we got there, Finn colored and played in the waiting room, and I tried not to pee my pants. We went out into the hallway to check and see if Daddy was there yet, and Finn saw him and RAN to give him a hug...it was seriously adorable.
A few minutes later, they called me back and did all the measurements. Then Randy and Finn got to come back too.
Finn was...taken aback by the ultrasound. He just didn't know what to do with it all, he was mostly just really tentative.
Randy asked him "Do you see baby brother?"
Finn: "No."
Randy: "He's right there, do you see him?"
Finn: "It's not baby brother."
Randy: "It doesn't look like your brother to you?"
Finn: "No, it's not."
Randy: "What does it look like to you?"
Finn: "A turtle"
This was both adorable, and slightly alarming.
Finn seemed nervous, so I asked him if he wanted to hold my hand, he answered, very matter-of-factly that "My too big." It was a strange full-circle type of moment. One child too big, one too little to even come out of my belly yet.
Weird.
It's also weird to me how this child already seems to fit into our family. He is a part of life, Finn says goodnight to him each night, and we've already chosen his name. It just seems so nice, like he has always been meant to be here. And we can't wait to meet you buddy.
With Finn, our entire world was consumed with being pregnant. Everything that we did, every conversation that we had, everything centered around that.
With baby 2, it hasn't been so intense...our focus is, yes, on this sweet baby, but also on Finn, and life and work. We understand things more, there aren't so many questions, there aren't so many things to research...we feel more at ease with the idea of a baby in general.
One thing that doesn't change is the excitement, and I feel like the excitement even gets a little bit MORE exciting, because I get to share that excitement with Finn, and get to explain how exciting being a big brother is going to be. Finn got to have his first real "glimpse" of the baby yesterday. Randy and I have had 2 previous ultrasounds, but we haven't taken Finn to either of them. The baby didn't look a whole lot like a baby yet, and we didn't want to have to chase after him during these ultrasounds. However, yesterday, I don't know why, but I thought it was important to take him. I thought he would understand, and he would like it. I am still not sure if I was right or wrong?
The day started out wonderfully, we didn't get out of bed until 8:30, which is unheard of, but apparently daylight savings time is still messing with Finn's internal clock, which I am COMPLETELY fine with. We woke up, got ready, and went to visit the chiropractor (I've been having some pretty bad sciatica pain with this pregnancy, and the chiropractor is REALLY helping), and then made our way to visit Kathy and Alexis.
Finn and Alexis are just about the cutest thing on the planet together. They play so well, share and just do a great job. They are just a pleasure to watch play together. We spent some time playing at Kathy's house, and then made our way to the mall for a while.
These weekly playdates with Kathy and Alexis have become quite a tradition, and something that we both look forward to all week. I'm so grateful to have someone in my life that truly seems to fully understand me, and lets me be myself.
On the way home, Finn fell asleep and slept until ultrasound time. I was seriously concerned that Randy wouldn't be able to make the ultrasound, because he's had to work such ridiculous hours lately.
We jumped in the car, and went to the ultrasound (while I downed by 32 ounces of water). When we got there, Finn colored and played in the waiting room, and I tried not to pee my pants. We went out into the hallway to check and see if Daddy was there yet, and Finn saw him and RAN to give him a hug...it was seriously adorable.
A few minutes later, they called me back and did all the measurements. Then Randy and Finn got to come back too.
Finn was...taken aback by the ultrasound. He just didn't know what to do with it all, he was mostly just really tentative.
Randy asked him "Do you see baby brother?"
Finn: "No."
Randy: "He's right there, do you see him?"
Finn: "It's not baby brother."
Randy: "It doesn't look like your brother to you?"
Finn: "No, it's not."
Randy: "What does it look like to you?"
Finn: "A turtle"
This was both adorable, and slightly alarming.
Finn seemed nervous, so I asked him if he wanted to hold my hand, he answered, very matter-of-factly that "My too big." It was a strange full-circle type of moment. One child too big, one too little to even come out of my belly yet.
Weird.
It's also weird to me how this child already seems to fit into our family. He is a part of life, Finn says goodnight to him each night, and we've already chosen his name. It just seems so nice, like he has always been meant to be here. And we can't wait to meet you buddy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)