Sleeeeeep

You hear that? That's the sound of Bumpus not pulling all the pots and pans out of the cupboards and wrecking them, thanks to my newly installed cabinet latches. Hurrah! I feel so much better with this house in order and less noise and chaos on a daily basis. He doesn't seem to care, either - he just moves on to the cupboards he can access. I call that a win.

Also last night's stay at the baby kennel went spectacularly well - but I truly believe it was a fluke. I picked him up at eight and much to my horror found him still up (!); obviously they ignored my notes to put him to bed at 6 (not the first time). I was dreading what the night would be like - but it turned out totally fine. I got him home, put on his overnight diaper and jammies, and put him to bed...and he slept until 8 AM!!! It was the best night's sleep I've had in ages. Oh how I wish this were the secret to getting Bumpus to sleep later - putting him to bed later - but I know from experience that that is not how it works. If it were, believe me I'd keep him up until nine or ten like I used to when he was half his age. As we all know, though, kids at a certain age just wake up with the sun no matter how late they go to bed. And even today after waking up at 8 he was still super cranky and tired by 5 PM and I just had to tolerate his crankiness for an hour until it was dinner and bedtime. Keeping him up two more hours? Ugh.

So I haven't needed to use Bumpus Plays in His Room tactics the last couple of days - the day before he slept until 7 which I thought was reasonable enough. Is his schedule adjusting back to more human hours, I hope? It's impossible to know. Just when you think you're on to something, everything changes. 

All I know is I finally got some sleep last night and suddenly everything looks bright and new. It just reminded me how intense sleep deprivation is and how it can really contribute to fatigue, depression, your whole attitude about life in general. Today I feel more optimistic about just about everything.

Not sure what to do next regarding getting more sleep. I have been making an effort to get to bed earlier...but it still does not create in me any desire to get up for the day at 6 AM. Also it makes me wake up every hour on the hour and be "up" for good at 3 AM despite still being exhausted. 

I keep telling myself this is what it will be like when baby T is here - up all night, etc. But at least I won't be pregnant then. And the birth will be behind me, and I'll have some idea of the costs. So, not saying it'll be easier, but at least I'll be better physically able to handle it. 

I will try a late night at the baby kennel once in December, too, so I can go to an early evening Christmas party. I don't plan to make a habit of that but there are no sitters for that night, and boy would it be great if he just happened to sleep in the next day-!

23 weeks

I ran into my ex-friend the other day. I was in a coffee shop with a play area I had set up as a meet up for my mommy & me group and someone said, "Hilary?" and tapped me on the shoulder. I thought for sure it was one of the group members, but no, it was my old friend. As a little recap, when B was about five months old I was at her house and her eight year old son asked who B's dad was and she blurted out that he was a very bad man who ran off. Although I asked for, and got, a sincere apology, I just couldn't get past it and brushed her off after that. She showed up at my door early one morning and I pussyfooted around the truth, mostly just telling her I know she meant nothing by it but I didn't feel comfortable around her anymore. I believe she called me once after that but then left me alone. And then there she was, right behind me.

I've thought about her a lot since the whole incident. I have zero interest in returning to a friendship with her, but the whole situation just sucks. I hate it when things end badly and unresolved, you know? But I accept that's the nature of human relationships. That's how it remains between me and both of my parents. Sometimes you just have to move on.

Anyway I could tell she was very happy to see me, and kept asking what I'd been up to and what was going on...I of course had to reference the pregnancy which felt awkward since her multiple miscarriages attempting to have a second child were always a huge issue (and the source of her anger, I think). Finally I had to order and then get to the play area because I didn't want people from the group to be wondering where I was...so I left her without saying anything and she came to see me and said to call her if I ever need anything. The whole thing just made me sad. Friendships are so complicated, especially between women.

23 weeks today. The fear of preterm labor is always on my mind, particularly as the odd "saying goodbye to the group" post shows up on my WTE app of yet another woman who delivered a 22 or 23 weeks baby who just couldn't make it. Then someone on my FB group mentioned IUI as well as IVF are risk factors for preterm labor. I thought it was just IVF??? Or did she mean anything involving drugs (which I didn't use)? I googled this question but found nothing except multiples resulting from IUI causing risk of preterm labor, not singletons. I can't imagine an unmedicated IUI would cause a risk like that - I mean, you're not messing with your body's natural function at all; physically, it's the exact thing as natural conception. But anyway. None of this matters - I'm just obsessing for no good reason. Midwife appointment next Weds. I will for sure ask if I'm showing any signs; maybe she can measure my cervix. It sure would put my mind at ease if I knew everything looked normal. 

I am afraid of being shamed for my weight again, even though I'm seeing a different midwife this time. I did not gain the two pounds the first one wanted me to - it's more like four or five. I am currently 150 lbs which at a gain of a pound a week from now on puts me right at 167 again - even though I started 10 lbs lighter. I'm pretty bummed about it. But this definitely chalks up as yet another "things that won't matter in the long run".

Tomorrow I am trying out an experiment that might be a miserable failure. I have to be out during B's bed time and I couldn't get a sitter, so I am taking him to the baby kennel where they will put him to bed and I'll pick him up. When he was littler I did this all the time; but of course now it's different. Will he be ok being woken up and then put to bed at home three hours later than usual? There's no telling. But I feel like I should try it once. With babysitters booked for holidays and/or getting sick all the time, I may need this as a backup. Only if it doesn't disrupt his sleep, though. I feel somewhat buffered by the fact that since he's spent a lot of Saturdays there lately, he now loves it - runs off to play the minute I take him, and runs happily to me when I go to get him (before it was a sob fest on both ends). 

I have to admit he's been ridiculously cute lately. He is just so engaged and personable - he kept going over to one of the mommy group moms so she could poke his belly, and played really well with the other kids. He's imitating sounds like crazy, and today started saying, "ummmmm...yeah!" which I'm sure he picked up from me. He loves to play peekaboo with the curtains, and gets a huge kick out of sitting in the rocking chair (although I have to monitor him closely because he can easily flip it over in his enthusiasm). 

I was added to a Facebook group for mothers in my specific area and the name of a local parks dept preschool came up, one I had never heard of, that is right up the street from me at a rec center. I checked it out and it is an astonishing $85 A MONTH, for four three-hour days a week! How is that even possible? The catch is the kids have to be at least two and potty trained. But B is just four months short of being two, and potty training can follow any time. It looks like you can only sign them up in the summer for the coming fall so it may be a while, but if we could go there - oh, it would be so great! So cheap! It just shows you really do have to shop around when it comes to this stuff. 

Kinda

This morning's experiment with Bumpus Plays in His Room Alone kind of worked, until it didn't. I was happy that at least after giving him some snacks, a clean diaper (pull ups worked well, btw), a cuddle and an explanation of what was about to happen, he didn't issue a peep and seemed quite happy in there for quite a while...until he wasn't. Needless to say I was a ball of nerves the whole time, and had a contractor coming over at 8:30 AM, so there was zero sleep or even rest to be had. But hey, at least I tried.

And will continue to try. I think it's worth a shot to see if this scheme is even possible. If it were as simple as just going to bed early I would have done that ages ago and his 6 AM wake ups would be a non-issue. Unfortunately I have work-related functions that keep me out until midnight or later at least once a week, sometimes more. So those mornings after are miserable, and trying to adjust to being in bed asleep by 10 is just physically impossible when every week I'm required to be driving home for an hour or more at 1 AM. 

So for now I'll keep trying the "play in your room" method for a few more days. At least now I know I can stash him in there for a few minutes so I can shower in the morning again which would be awesome. I really despise showering at night. Although it does make my sheets fresh and shampoo-y. 

Handyman came around today to install more cabinet latches. I decided I can't handle his tearing apart the whole kitchen several times a day. There's always this fine line between being the crazy control freak mom and the loose "the world is your playground" mom. I guess we all just have to find our comfort level in this department. I came to realize stooping over to put away my banged-up, dirty (after he stepped in them) pans fifty times a day, with a big pregnant belly and when he doesn't even seem to enjoy playing with them but instead just dumps everything and then runs off to find something else to dump, simply does not work for me. So, call me the mean mommy. I'm already about 50% more relaxed knowing those cabinets are now out of bounds. 

I have also secured the broom closet so he can no longer pull out the broom and whack me in the back of the head with it when I least expect it. Yesss. I will get this child to play with his actual toys if it kills me.

People love to issue platitudes like "you don't need toys, just let them play with real life objects". Oh, how I wish this were true. Unfortunately I have recently discovered the following: most (modern) toys, unlike adult objects, are designed to protect against cuts, choking, poisoning, strangulation, falling and poking an eye out, etc. Also, you may not so much want your enthusiastic toddler "playing with" (read: banging, smashing, chewing, throwing, slobbering on) your adult objects, like books, keys, phones, remotes, etc. One TV programmed to Spanish forever or car alarm going off at 6 AM and you'll see what I mean. Oh, and that cute toddler banging your pot lids together on the kitchen floor? It might look sweet on camera but it's not so fun to live with the splitting headache that racket causes, nor discover that your pot lids are now all bent and won't fit on your pans anymore. Good times. I say bring on the toys. And awesome, Big Boy-style independent play.

Operation Momma Needs Sleep

So...after a week of being dragged out of bed at 6 AM, often after not getting to sleep until midnight or one or later, and trying everything to keep B entertained so I can at least lie down a little longer (taking him up to the playroom, letting him ransack my bedroom, cartoons, etc), and failing, I think it's time to bring out the big guns...as in, it's time to make B stay in his bedroom in the morning, whether he likes it or not.

I have no idea how to accomplish this, or if it even can be accomplished. Unlike sleeping in his own room which could have gone either way, trying to shut him in his room I know is going to be a huge scream fest. Even now if I put a closed door between me and him he completely freaks out. But if I were afraid of a scream fest, he'd still be keeping me up all night breastfeeding and sleeping in my bed with me. And I am desperate - DESPERATE - for some sleep. I just don't know what else to do other than encourage him to hang out in his room and play while I sleep just a little longer. 

I could put a gate rather than a closed door...unfortunately the gate I have is missing pieces and unusable; fortunately I have my handyman coming over tomorrow so he can maybe jerryrig it. But this also means one more morning of being tortured if I don't just try to put him in there tomorrow...at this moment I'm not sure how to handle it. All I know is that I'm tired.

I spent much of this evening shifting crap around in anticipation of doing more baby proofing tomorrow. I have decided to make more of the cabinets off limits to B. He has a million toys he never touches - and I'm just kind of over everything in all of my cabinets being dumped all over the floor all of the time. Again, he's not going to like it, but it's time to set some limits. He can bring toys into the kitchen and play if he wants - but I'm a little sick of cast iron skillets being dropped on my

toes, pans being banged and dented, and frying pans stepped in with dirty feet, slipped on, and resultant screaming. Over it!

I'm also over his overnight diaper coming undone and sodden every night and poop smearing all down his legs and into the footies of his pyjamas. Over it! I bought some pull-ups and he's got one on now. We'll see if it works out any better. 

Nothing on this earth would make me happier than B entertaining himself for an hour or two after waking up. Is this even reasonable at his age? Am I asking too much? Should I try to survive the remainder of this pregnancy on four to six hours' sleep a night? Ugh!

Worth

This morning I caught the tail end of an NPR story about a woman who gave up her cubicle job to row across the Atlantic. It was a harrowing tale of near death experiences, fear, loneliness, and exhilaration. At one point the interviewer asked her why she put herself in that position - couldn't she have just gotten another job? She answered that the fear of not doing it was worse than the fear of doing it. This really struck a chord with me, since it so much sums up how I've been feeling lately. It's the "damned if you do..." concept I touched on earlier. It sounds a lot more negative than I mean it. But even in my worst moments lately I've been cognitive of the fact that yes, raising small children on your own is hella hard at times, but life with no children would have just been unacceptable to me. And that's why I had one and am having another. Because I know myself and I just never would have been satisfied with anything else.

So, to me, not having children is far scarier than facing the challenges of having them. There have been many times lately where I've felt sad that I had to miss out on something fun or felt resentful that I have to get up so &/!@ early or run myself ragged keeping B busy and entertained. And those feelings are very real. But I always ask myself, have you considered the alternative? The way life would really look for me right now - 41, still single, childless, while all my single friends get snapped up and have one and then another child, while everyone asks, "have you tried e-harmony?", while I get invited to more baby showers and weddings, while people fifteen years younger than me get married...you get my point. And again it's not to devalue my former life or make me look pathetic and lonely, which I was neither. But at 38 I could see the writing on the wall and I didn't like it. So I did this dramatic, crazy thing, and created two people.

So, was it worth it? This phrase, "worth it", is used a lot on my birth boards. Whenever a woman complains about her miserable pregnancy everyone chimes in that once you hold your baby in your arms, "it'll all be worth it." Do I believe this? Maybe on some level, but I would never use that term. Is extreme emotional or physical pain ever worth anything? When I held Bumpus for the first time, did I "fall in love" or say to myself, "it was all worth it"? Nope! I said, "thank God that hell is over!" and then prepared for the next thing - getting us out of the hospital, getting us breastfeeding, and learning the ropes as a new mom. So, was Bumpus "worth" that unpleasant pregnancy and horrible birth? I just don't look at it that way. I simply accept that this is (sometimes) what it takes to make a person. And that the alternative - not doing it because you're too scared - is not acceptable. And so we march on to the second and last baby.

As I've noted many times, I wish I could be more sanguine on this issue. But I think I can safely say at this point that it's just not my style. I don't believe in platitudes or glossing over reality. Babies and little kids are hard, period. But so is anything "worth" having. Thankfully I was blessed with a happy, healthy kid who much of the time is an utter delight. And the times when he's not...well...I may be gritting my teeth and thinking "I hate this I hate this I hate this", but I never wish I hadn't had kids; I never think this was all a big mistake and I'd be better off without them, because I know that's just not true. 

So in my worst moments I think of this, and it does help. Most of us parents of babies and toddlers just get through each day, sometimes exchanging deer-in-headlights glances, sensing each other's pain, and exhilaration. And sometimes that baby's giggle does kind of sort of make it all worth it. 

Doin' it

Readin' it

Standin' on it

Ridin' it

Wearin' it

Rockin' it

Growin' it

Success!

I'm pleased to announce that Bumpus slept the whole night in his own room last night. He woke up a couple of times but soothed himself right away. Before I went to bed I went in to check on him - and found his door really hard to open for some reason; I thought he had gotten out of bed and fallen asleep in front of it (I used to do this, apparently). I contemplated leaving him there rather than waking him up and risking a whole to-do, but the thought of his little body curled up on the cold floor was just too much for me so I pushed the door open, only to find him safe in bed. 

I was surprised I had zero anxiety about his not being at arm's-length for the first night in his entire life; I guess when you're ready, you're ready. Also I discovered I could practically hear him breathe right through the wall, so there was no worry about him climbing things in the night and falling and me not hearing it. I kept running through everything in the room in my mind and telling myself I had baby proofed as much as any person reasonably could; outlets covered, no dangling curtain cords, very little to climb on, nothing to choke on, nothing sharp, etc etc, and that if anything happened now there was no way of preventing it. Not that that's a terribly comforting thought, but there is something to be said for giving something your best effort.

This morning I popped awake just before 7 and waited, wondering if I should check in on him again - but within seconds I heard him talking to himself, then a thump, little feet, a door opening, then my door opening. So, good, he didn't wake up scared or disoriented. I asked him if he enjoyed sleeping in his big boy room and he shouted, "yeah!" I think it was good he spent some time in the room over the last few days so he got acquainted with where everything is. We'll see how tonight's bedtime goes. I *think* now that he's done it once, he'll be ok. I dismantled his pack 'n play so there's no turning back now. 

He still ransacked my room a bit this morning but I hope his own room will have more allure for him soon. 

After our awful morning yesterday I took him to a nice park in South Pasadena because I just didn't know what else to do with him - and it worked; after clinging to me for a few minutes (he was just in an awful mood yesterday, what can I say? He's entitled) he jumped up and played and we actually had a really nice time. I met a nice couple with a one-year-old who were eager to compare notes. When the wife was off rinsing sand out of their kid's eyes, the husband asked the famous question, "does your husband have red hair, too?" I debated for a minute, hesitated, and then said, "it's kind of more auburn." Why didn't I tell this obviously non-judgy hipster the truth? Well, it's going to sound stupid, but I didn't want the wife coming back over and hearing I'm single and feeling all threatened. I find married women are very threatened by single women - well, some of them. Some are certainly threatened by women who choose to have babies on their own because they can't imagine the strength it would take to do that - and it makes them question their own choices. This was a topic of conversation at our last SMC meeting. Again, this doesn't apply to all people, just some. And, well...I just thought it would make everyone more comfortable if I pretended to have a husband. Some women commented on the Facebook SMC group that they always tell people the truth so that donor conception can be more normalized and "out there". And I'm all for that. It really makes me think I should start telling the truth from now on no matter how it makes people feel. I mean, it's kind of like pretending to be straight when you're not, just to "keep the peace", isn't it?