Don't Laugh

I KNOW!!!  Two posts in one month.  Can you stand it?

Johnathon is upstairs sleeping.  I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE his new schedule (which means that he will promptly change it completely).  He dropped his morning nap a couple of weeks ago.  He now wakes up around 6:00-6:30, sleeps from 11-1 and goes to sleep for the night at 7.  I'm digging it.  I can run errands in the morning, get stuff done around the house while he naps, then play/run more errands in the afternoon.  AND have enough personal time in the evening.  God love him--he's being such a good boy for mama.

His new trick?

You know, I consider myself to be a modern woman.  Power to the Female and all.  But, my words and actions.  They don't line up.  When I list the things I have done/gotten interested in the past couple of years, I swear, I'm ripped out of the 1950s:

--I bake bread (ok, I use a bread machine, but still)
--I garden
--I can the veggies from my garden

and, here's the kicker...
I AM TAKING SEWING CLASSES.

There.  I said it.  I will now be that hippy woman who obviously wears homemade clothes.*  Honestly, I'm really, really excited about it (the class, not looking like the hippy woman).

I'm postive  not sure that I will make my own clothes.  The sewing class I am taking will ultimately result in an A-Line Skirt with Patch Pockets,  I looked it up.  Hopefully it will look something like this**:close

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That skirt costs $80.00!!  But I DO want to learn how to make things for around the house--curtains (advanced, I know, but I'm being ambitious here), throw pillow covers, baby quilts, tablecloths.  Plus, the class will teach me how to hem stuff, which I think will be useful.  My level of experience=Zero.  Perhaps a little less than zero--I was convinced I could make swaddling blankets for Johnathon based on what a Happiest Baby on the Block teacher told us when we took the class while I was pregnant.  SO EASY, she said.  Not so much,you lying beyotch, I said.  I do not own a sewing machine, so I had to use Stitch Witchery on it (iron on hemming stuff) to make the corners and edges.  I proudly sent a picture of what I had lovingly created for my yet-to-born child to my sister.  She laughed and told me to send her the fabric I had bought.  Sad face.

But, as I am every time I start a new project (regardless of whether or not I actually finish/it transitions into an actual, useful hobby), I am chockfull of excitement and optimism.  I will NOT let the memory of a C (yes, really, a freaking C) for a pillowcase I made in 8th grade Home Ec get me down.







*No, not really.

**And that my stomach looks exactly like that, too.

I love you, Polly

This woman seriously rocks my world and I love her very much. I have no clue what she looks like, where she lives, or how she takes her coffee, but I would gladly kiss her feet. (Got this off amazon.com, so you cannot Click to LOOK INSIDE!)

Who is this woman and why have I suddenly developed a toe fetish?

BECAUSE JOHNATHON IS UPSTAIRS, SLEEPING, ON HIS THIRD NAP OF THE DAY IN HIS CRIB.

That's why.

So, this little nugget of a book basically says to put your baby down every 90 minutes for a nap (hence, the name. Clever, no?). When I read that, I was all, "Sha! {snort} Ain't no way my baby is going to take a friggin' nap every hour and a half. You are smoking some major crack, Polly."

And then, he did. The first day I tried this, I was at my parents' house and we were in a different time zone without his crib. AND HE SLEPT FOR FOUR HOURS (total, not all at the same time). This, from my baby who slept a max of 45 minutes, twice a day.

Now, as he grows older, he can stay up more time, but no lie. My boy gets sleepy and goes down without a fuss every 90 minutes.

Unfortunately, I think we are going through some night time sleep regression, so he isn't sleeping as well as he was during the night, but I think it's a temporary phase. He may be starting to teethe, so really, the Universe is just soooo on my side right now. But, I am going to take success where I can get it.

Priorities

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,

Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,

Hang out the washing, make up the bed,

Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?

She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,

Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due

Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew

And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo

But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo

Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?

Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton

This. Please, please, please. Let me remember this.

I've become increasingly frustrated with Johnathon's absolutely inability to sleep for naps on his own, instead of in my arms. Because of all the things I "have" to do. And I'm getting annoyed that he is a great sleeper--we're talking three hour naps--AS LONG AS I AM NEAR HIM, preferably holding him. Next best is sleeping beside him. For night time, he's fine. It's the naps during the day.

BUT then I see pictures of him when he was only days old and he has changed so much since then and I know three months from now he'll change even more. I can't even comprehend a year, three years, and beyond from now.

So, for now, I'm going to enjoy my baby while I can.

So THIS is what no sleep does to you...

Oh y'all. OH Y'ALL.

I have not had more than an hour's sleep in a week. Not kidding. Wish I were. Ever since we got back from Wales, J's sleeping has been a nightmare. Oh wait, you have to be asleep to have a nightmare.

After we returned, mah baby got the sniffles (and gave Mommy the sniffles, too, but bad). So, he wasn't sleeping very well because he couldn't breathe very well. That blue nasal aspirator I got in the hospital? Useless so far. Got nothing out of his little stuffed up nose. So, no relief for him. He's still a little sniffly, but is well on the road to recovery.

His sleeping habits? Not so much. We, of course, picked the week we returned to put him in his crib (he outgrew the pack and play bassinet) because we figured we would start fresh with a new place when we got back. It worked like a charm the two days between our return and his cold. A CHARM, I TELL YOU. Slept for five hours straight at a time and only got up once or twice through the night. I thought I would have no problem with MY child sleeping through the night. Pshaw on those the stupid sleep books on how to get your baby to sleep through the night. Amateurs. I know how to put my child to sleep and I am a new mother. I have a night night time routine, I massage him, I soothe him, he's out like a light. Ok, so fine, when I put him down for a nap, his eyes pop wide open, but that's okay because he sleeps well at night. And, Craig and I finally have time to ourselves at night and we have our room back to where we can turn on the lights and watch tv in bed if we want to. Suck on that, baby experts.

Well, that has come to bite me in the ass. Hard.

Because, OH MY SWEET LORD, my child will not sleep. Let's take yesterday, for instance, which looks a lot like every other day for the past week. He wakes up for good around 8:30. Around 10 am, he starts to get sleepy again, so I try to put him down for a nap. He's not having any of it. So, Craig tries to put him down for a nap. Nope. AT 1 PM, (yes, that's right, three hours later), I finally sit down in the recliner and hold him for three hours while he takes a nap (I nap too). Every time we put him down, he wakes up and starts to cry. That night, we put him down at 8:30 after a bath, massage, bottle, and rocking. He goes down like a dream, all sweet and cute in his crib. Fast forward to 9:30--wakes himself up. I soothe him and he's out again in 10 minutes. Go back down to enjoy a glass of wine. Fast forward to midnight. He's up for a little bit to nurse and he's out. Then, the fun begins. Because the same thing happens at 1, 3, 4, 5, and 6.