Tag Archives: sleep

How to Become a Millionaire

All you have to do is invent The Baby Timer.

A little device that sits next to the baby to let you know how long you have until it wakes up again.

I picture a gauge with a needle that can go from green to yellow to red.

Green -Baby will continue to sleep for some time. Take a nap, make dinner, take up knitting – you’ve got time.

Yellow – Baby is past half way point of nap.  Finish getting that dinner on the table, don’t bother taking a nap anymore and don’t forget to use the bathroom!

Red – Baby will wake at any moment!!! PANIC -Did you feed the other kids? Did you pee? Did you eat?

It would be brilliant, mothers everywhere would buy one.

If I had one of those I would know what to do now.

Usually Jane wakes up at this time of night.

Except for the night that she slept seven hours in a row.

Will she do it again? Will it be tonight?

Or if I go to sleep will she wake me up 15 minutes later?

I hate that.

I’m banking that her imaginary timer is yellow so I’ll stay up a bit longer and if I’m wrong and it’s actually green then I’m just depriving myself of good sleep.

It’s a conundrum.

I’m telling you, invent the baby timer and you’ll be a millionaire.

(And how come if an adult sees a baby yawn it makes them yawn but that same adult can yawn at the baby until their eyes water and it has no effect on the baby?)

I Don’t.

You know how you hear stories about women becoming unnaturally upset with their husbands while in labor?

I wasn’t.

He was reading aloud Peter Capstick’s accounts of water buffalo attacks, what’s to be upset about?

It seems more natural to be upset that John got to move and play and go places in the first week or so after Jane was born while I took care of her.

I wasn’t.

The desire to leave the house wasn’t even close to stronger than the desire to take naps with my new baby.

Perhaps a screaming fit could have occurred when faced with poopy diaper #5,689 with two year old helping and husband at company Christmas party.

I didn’t.

He deserved a night off after a few weeks of nonstop caring for all his girls.

When I’m  awake late at night with Jane while John sleeps…

I don’t.

So long as I don’t dwell on how I’ll feel the next day it’s often nice and peaceful up at night with Jane.

But when I’m awake late at night with Jane while John snores…

…I seriously consider grabbing his lower lip and pulling it over his head while screaming all sorts of irrational things and blaming him for the entire experience.

I don’t.

But perhaps I see what those women in labor are all about now.

Camp Out

It’s possible that a combination of the new baby, the unfavorable weather and general life with the almost five and two year old have brought John and I to the end of our patience… and sanity.

Possible.

Really possible.

Today John came up with the brilliant idea that he and the girls were going camping. Chores were done in the morning, their room was cleaned and in the afternoon we erected our tent in their room. Once John convinced Ivy that they were playing camping and not “You be the prince I’ll be the princess” we had a fun afternoon. There was “sleeping” and playing in the tent, fishing down the stairwell. (Ivy caught a musky, John caught a tiny blue gill  and Clara caught a “gill” but she said it was no good and she threw it in the garbage… or so I heard.) Then John and Ivy cooked baked potatoes and hot dogs in the wood-stove for our camp dinner.  In general it was an afternoon of fun, lots of sanity saving fun.

Then tucked in their new sleeping bags, flashlights beaming, the girls  were ready for their exciting night of camping out… …for about five minutes.

Then Ivy tearfully hollered that she wanted to sleep in her bed…

… and Clara didn’t, but nobody wanted to be lonely, but everyone needed water, and Clara needed Chap Stick, and it was too dark, and, and, and….

Ahh camping…sanity.. patience… they were good while they lasted.

Uncle Tyler

The girls have many uncles but the one they spend the most time with is my brother, Uncle Tyler.

Which is good because little princesses need a healthy dose of Uncle Tyler every now and then. As much farming and hunting that we do we just can’t compete with the fascination of Uncle Tyler. For starters he’s not us, so therefore he is automatically cooler in the eyes of his nieces. Second of all he shoots more stuff and happily shows the girls what he’s doing as well as finds them cool things to see and trees to climb. He also is fascinatingly dirty while he’s hunting – that’s really here nor there just a good side note. Grime aside they were excited to see him so many days last week.  Since all the time spent with Tyler was the middle of the gun season it involved an extra amount of grime and plenty of opportunity to check out the hunters successes.  The girls happily went with him to see dead deer while he showed them who shot which deer and what he was doing when he helped butcher them.

Clara told everyone “Tyler shoot big buck” with her arms in the air for emphasis just in case anyone missed his bow deer of a few weeks ago. Then after John shot a very nice doe she added “Dad shoot done” (rhymes with stone) to her deer hunting talk. She got rides from Uncle Tyler and anyone else who would carry her to and from the shed to see the deer every chance she got. Ivy took her friend in to see all the deer and was perhaps a little miffed when she wasn’t interested in identifying carcasses with Ivy and instead bolted for the door.  In short my girls are not afraid of dead things and they love their Uncle Tyler so I was more than a bit taken aback by Clara’s bedtime conversation with me the other night:

Clara: Uncle Tyler shoot big buck!
Me: Yup.
Clara:  Dad shoot big doe! (we worked on pronunciation since last weekend)
Me: Yup.
Clara: Uncle Tyler cut up dad doe.
Me: Yup he helped. (A clarification to pacify those who did cut up Johns doe (Thank you!) Tyler did not in fact cut up that deer, but he cut up some others and I was trying to get the girl to go to sleep since she was up and talking far past bedtime.)

Then there was a thoughtful silence, followed by a very worried:

Clara: Uncle Tyler no cut me up!

Me: No Clara, Uncle Tyler would never cut you up. (shit… and excuse my language but there is really no other phrase that better suits the fact that at 8:45 at night your two year old is suddenly worried that her beloved Uncle is going to carve her up like a deer.) 

Clara: Uncle Tyler have big knife….. Uncle Tyler no cut me up!

So we talked about all the fun things that her Uncle Tyler likes to do with her and the conversation was going well until I mentioned that he likes to climb trees with her.

Clara: Uncle Tyler cut up trees!

Me: (shit!)

Fifteen minutes and one futile phone call to Uncle Tyler later(Tell me please – is there anything more annoying than a brother who falls asleep before your daughter, who is awake because of him???) I had her mostly convinced that her Uncle was not going to cut her up because she is not meat, and he wouldn’t do that even if he does have a big knife. She finally fell asleep and I haven’t heard any more about it since.

This weekend we will again be spending time with Uncle Tyler.  The girls are already excited and I’m just crossing my fingers that we’ll all be able to sleep when we get home!

Bedtime

Clara is almost two and her language is exploding, in the last week she started saying two word phrases and adding new words to her vocabulary everyday.  I never know what she’s going to come out with,  some of her phrases are totally new and catch me off guard like “shower curtain.”  Whereas others are just combo’s of some of her common words such as,  “duck poop.”  But no matter what the words, the really fascinating thing is how quickly she can incorporate her new phrases into delay tactics at bedtime. In fact I think it’s possible she has so quickly expanded her vocabulary just to try and stay up a few minutes later.

Just days into two word phrases she now has all the typical tactics down.

It starts with:

” ‘Nother Book?” and once I leave the room moves quickly to:

“WATER MOM!”

From their we head to:

“POOP POTTY!” (Always a large dilemma for the potty training stage. Is it a fake? Is it a false alarm? Is it for real? How can you tell?)

If the girls don’t quiet down when they should the hall light goes off which has always been accompanied by lots of yelling, whining and now new shouts of:

“LIGHT ON!”

As skilled as she is in the delay tactics of the world for better or worse she has one of those mean mothers who doesn’t bend much a bedtime, until she pulls out the big guns…

” ‘Nother Hug?”

Forgiven

Last night Clara had an especially bad, nightmarey, screamey, yelley, sort of a night. So this morning when she didn’t sleep until noon I was still tired when we got up. Tired and perhaps a little grumpy that the girl who kept me up all night was also the early riser of the day.

Without waking Ivy we quietly made our way downstairs and found an armchair in a patch of sunlight to sit in. Clara went into her snuggling pose. (Unlike most snugglers Clara cuddles up to your chest, nestles in with her heads, then picks up both arms and tucks them in between you.  Which is odd but endearing) So we sat in the sun while we woke up snuggling and every so often Clara would pop upright and give me a kiss on top of the head.

And all the screaming of the night was forgiven, forgotten and irrelevant just like that.

Seeking Justice

Today as Clara, Piper and I were napping upstairs and Ivy was watching a movie downstairs, I awoke to the sound of purposeful footsteps.

Small purposeful footsteps that came stomping through the house, up the stairs and into my room.

I kept my eyes closed hoping it would go away.

When Ivy yelled, “MOM!” next to the bed in what could only be described as an “outside voice” I lost all hope.

“Yes?”

In a tone of indignation: “Piper ate my dinner.”

I responded without opening my eyes with some mumbly half asleep line about how the dog shouldn’t have done that but you never ate it and you didn’t put it away when you were done and it’s been sitting out for 3 hours so should we be surprised by this?

Ivy was quite for a moment, and then:  “Mom…. aren’t you going to say something to Piper?”

I opened my eyes and looked at Piper who was cuddled up next to me also faking sleep. I gave her a very half-hearted, “Bad dog, don’t eat Ivy’s food.” and closed my eyes.

Apparently satisfied that justice had been served the little footsteps left my room, headed down stairs and climbed up on the counter looking for a snack.

Nap Time

I love it and I hate it.

It’s the best part of the day or it’s the very worst.

Every day I look forward to nap time.

In addition to the cuteness factor of the sleeping kids nap time is:

the saver of my sanity,

the part of the day where I can relax and do whatever I’d like with no questions, comments or little helpers,

the part of my day where I can work on projects best left out of the reach of tiny hands, without jumping up every two minutes to keep those little hands away,

the part of the day where grumpy kids are transformed into happy kids.

When it’s over, all three of us are rested and ready to enjoy each others company again.

I love nap time!

Other days nap time brings out all worst parts of stay-at-home-momdom and rolls them into one horrible afternoon.

I turn into:

the schedule keeper,

the enforcer,

the silent gate keeper,

because if I don’t wait quietly, monitoring the situation for escapes or shenanigans, they won’t fall asleep or they’ll escape before they sleep and we’ll all be cranky forever…

… especially me.)

Those days the frustration level builds, the girls get more and more tired and I end up ready to run for the hills by the time John gets home. (Good thing those dogs of ours always need walking!)

Those days the three of us do not enjoy each others company when it’s time to get up.

I hate nap time!

The wonderful happy nap times go like this: I read the girls a pile of books, sing them a song if I feel the need to torture them further, and tuck them in and head off for a bit of whatever kind of rest my day needs.

Ivy is left with these choices:

1) Rest until Clara falls asleep and then get up.

2) Get up after she wakes up.

3) Get up when I come get her.

She’s been great, she knows that the best way to get Clara to fall asleep quickly is to lay quietly and pretend to be asleep herself.

Brilliant, Clara gets a nap, Ivy at minimum takes a bit of a rest and often nods off for a few hours herself.

Unless it doesn’t’ work.

Unless you find both of them in the crib.

Unless Clara throws all her blankets and half her clothes at her sister.

Unless Ivy performs a jail break and you find them coming down the stairs.

Unless you think they finally have really fallen asleep and as you are putting a coat of paint on shutters in the mudroom you hear mysterious noises upstairs and on investigating find them both playing together.

I was happily greeted with a “MOM!” from Clara.

Ivy told me that they were “just plain’ with blocks” as if I would be so excited to see them up and about and “done with our resteses”

I turned around and left the room and as my blood pressure fell back to acceptable levels cleaned up my painting things before heading back upstairs.

Now they have been admonished, separated, and put back in bed and I’m back to being the silent gate keeper.

Here I sit stewing that not only has nap time gone poorly and my shutter painting has been put on hold yet again but that the last of my Christmas chocolate is stuck in the room with Ivy.

Today I hate nap time.

I wrote this post yesterday mid nap time in the midst of internet issues and saved it to post later. Shortly after writing this Ivy came back down stairs and told me that she made her own choice (please note her three choices from above) (please note that the three year old gets to choose a choice, not create one).  Her choice was that she decided she was all done taking a rest. The huge smile on her face when she delivered the news that she could make up her own choice and her insistence that it was the new plan may have pushed me over some mental ledge.

That’s the only explanation I have for the hysterical laughter that I tried to hide from her as I ushered her back upstairs.

That and the fact that she’s awful cute when she tries to be sneaky.

Now much later I can officially say that good substantial naps did eventually occur, and I was able to sneak in to get my chocolate.

Friday naps, a success… eventually!

I’m Out

It is three AM and I’m out.

I’m out of patience. I’m out of tricks. I’m out of calming ideas. I’m out of serenity. All that’s left is the tired grumpy mom portion of me and one inconsolable one year old. Since I have learned through experience that an upset, cranky, irritated mother does nothing but make the situation worse, after an hour of trying to get Clara back to sleep I’ve abandoned her to figure it out herself.

Sometimes, it is best just to walk away.

Laying in bed listening to her did nothing for my sleep or my mood. My thoughts were ranging between visions of running away to a quite place with soft feather beds where there are no children, dogs, alarms, phones or insane wind gusts to disturb my sleep, to contemplating homicide because John (after a Clara calming attempt of his own) was sleeping through everything quite soundly.  I could tell from the sounds of the snoring.

So again, sometimes it is best just to walk away.

Instead of pretending I’m getting sleep I came downstairs and found this picture. A happy Clara with the classic nose wrunkle:

I’m not sure what it is about that nose wrunkle but it’s contagious. Clara smiles at someone, anyone, and they all wrinkle up there noses and smile right back.  I’ve seen family, friends, checkout ladies at the grocery store, strangers at the park, all grin and wrunkle up their own noses. Which makes me smile and wrinkle up mine.

Now with a happy thought, and quite noises from above I’m back off to bed!