>> Thursday, July 15, 2010

So, I haven't really been sleeping. And I can't even blame it on either baby, they're (knock on wood) pretty good sleepers. Fiona rarely wakes up during the night, and Violet, well, we're still co-sleeping/nursing, so most of the time all it takes is for me to roll over and stuff a boob in her mouth and she's back out.

Once I'm asleep, I sleep just fine. I slept through my alarm TWICE this week, which really sucks because as a babysitter, I'm not the only one that's late. My tardiness has a ripple effect on my employers. I did get there on time today though, so that was good.

It's the falling asleep that's the problem. It started Saturday, when I didn't fall asleep until 5am. Sunday it was 3. Monday and Tuesday 2, and last night about 2:30. Which really doesn't work out so well, when you consider that I have to be up for work at 6:30. Last night I was fiiiiiiiiinally falling asleep, and then I heard Fiona very clearly say "Mama?" and it sounded like she was right in the doorway of our room and I was like "How in the hell did she get out of her crib?" and so I tried to answer her but I couldn't make any noise and I realized I was asleep so I WOKE myself up with a start and said "go back to bed, honey" at which point Nate rolled over and mumbled something to the effect of "Did you say something?" But of course she wasn't in the doorway. She was asleep. In her crib. Like a normal person. And I now had to begin the process of falling asleep all over again.

It's really starting to be a problem. I can sometimes grab a little nap during the day, but it's hard to time things to make that happen. I forgo the old adage "Sleep when the baby sleeps", and substitute my own version, which is usually something along the lines of "Sleep while the one baby sleeps and the other baby is strapped in to her high chair eating a freeze-pop and watching Yo Gabba Gabba". It works.

Except when it doesn't. Today was a big day. Grocery shopping day. I've been meaning to go since we got home from MA a week ago. I was understandably nervous about this trip, because it was to be my first time going alone with both the girls. And we all know how I feel about grocery shopping anyways...(ps, Wegman's carts still suck. Who thought it would be a good idea to redesign them so that they can hold LESS groceries?) (oh, and shoutout to the very cool woman who was shopping with her 6-month-old, who told me that her older daughter was 2 also, and gave me nice words of encouragement.) (I would also like to send an ANTI-shoutout to the meddlesome old lady who stopped and told me that she "...hopes I don't take this the wrong way, but she has 4 children, so she knows... The baby in there[my Moby wrap which I LOVE], it's not safe. It's breathing it's own air. I don't mean to interfere, but I just love babies!" Really, lady? You think I don't? Hello, it's a freaking PIECE OF FABRIC that is actually QUITE open up near her head. She can breath. Thanks. Go choke on a prune.)

Where was I. Grocery shopping. So whatever, I finally did the shopping, it was largely uneventful. Which of course meant I was SUPER proud of myself and seriously called three people and was all "dooood I went grocery shopping! Aren't I awesome! Aren't you proud of me? What? You have to go? You don't actually care? You shop for groceries too? Oh." And then I remembered that my life must be pretty boring if grocery shopping is exciting. And then I figured I hadn't bored enough people yet, so I better blog about it, too! Yay!

Oh, I had a doctor appt this afternoon, too. Which I scheduled for 2pm. Cause it's always nice to have an appointment smack in the middle of nap time.

I had big plans for dinner (yummy but fairly simple-to-make spicy orange glazed chicken and green beans and corn bread), but between the shopping and the waking babies up from naps to go the doctors office, and the whole 4 hours of sleep I got last night (in two 2-hour chunks), I was totally beat. When Nate got home I just went into the kitchen and started grabbing things for dinner. Chicken nuggets. Oooh, French fries. Here, have this leftover white cheddar mac&cheese. Oh, a vegetable...let's see, we've got... corn. As I set Fiona's plate down on her tray, I realized I was serving them chicken and three different kinds of starch. Plus milk. Awesome. The meal was so white it was blinding. (Well, it wasn't all like white white, it was more a mix of white, yellow, and light brown, but same thing.) Never a good thing, having a monochromatic meal like that.

So I did the only thing I could do; I started crying about serving three starches at one meal. Cause that's normal.

I really hope I sleep tonight.


You can't make this shit up.

>> Wednesday, July 14, 2010

My new position as "Supervisor of two small monsters, specializing in shit removal" has kept me quite busy. I've been alone (during the day) with these two for a week now, so at this point I feel totally deserving of those "oh wow, how do you do it?" looks and comments I get at the mall/grocery store/church/doctor's office/etc. Before that my wonderful too-good-to-be-true silver tea set sister was here with me for nearly a month. (Points if you get that reference) And she got here the same day that Nate went back to work. He was home for two weeks. And before that, well, I hadn't been promoted yet. Before that I was just working as "Pregger Mother of One".
Seriously, it's been two months since I posted. I'm not even sure I have the time/energy/memory to recap. Suffice it to say we've been busy. That whole eat/sleep/shit/repeat routine is brutal.
Speaking of shit. My toddler is some kind of artist, with human fecal matter being her medium of choice. I'm not sure what this says about her future (the internet has plenty to say, of course, but from what I've gathered, it's only autism if the kid engaging in poop play is much older than this little one.), but for the here and now? I alternate between anger, frustration, defeat, and laughter. Her favorite place to play is in her crib. Turns out those three hour naps? Sort of more an hour and a half of nap followed by and hour and half of playing with crap. Literally. Sometimes we are greeted with fresh murals in the morning. She wakes up quietly, that one. If you put her down to bed (nighttime or naptime) in anything less than full leggings with a onesie overtop (it's her 80's aerobics instructor look), she's digging in that dipe the moment it gets filled.
And then occasionally there is the middle-of-the-day play. This is usually less artwork, more "props". For example, one day she was playing with her play dishes, making a snack and pretending to eat it. I failed to notice at first that she was playing with real raisins. From the day before. That had recently seen the inside of an intestine.

Today's minor fiasco involved the Fisher Price farm set. I was sitting on the couch, nursing the baby, watching Fiona play so nicely over there with her toys. What a good girl she is. Violet fell asleep, I placed her into her swing, and went over to join Fiona. And then I saw it. Manure. Actual shit in the little cart that hooks to the back of the farmer's tractor. Carrots and raisins, from the look of it. Creative, this one.

I sternly informed her that no, we do NOT play with poop. And then laughed my head off, internally. Because seriously. What else can you do?

I'm off to google "my toddler plays with poop" to see if anybody else has any worse stories to make me feel better, and "how can I tell if my toddler is ready for potty training" because I'm pretty sure we are heading in that direction very very soon...

"Moo, moooooo"
This was, of course, after I'd cleaned all things poopy. I'm not that bad of a parent.


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