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?

First Night

It's only 7:30 so this night is far from over - it's only just begun. But B is, for now, asleep in his own room. I am completely paranoid about all noise and have been tiptoeing and whispering (to myself) for the last hour, which is beyond silly. I was going to just hang out in my room tonight so he wouldn't be disturbed by the noise from the living room, but decided like everything else in this process it's best to just go for it. So far so good.

To put him to sleep I just walked him in there in his pjs, sang him his goodnight song ("Now it's Kinda Time to Go to Sleep"), and attempted to lay him down on the bed. No go. He was breathing heavily and distressed and kept trying to get off the bed, not understanding what was going on. I went out to rinse his toothbrush and he completely lost it, so I just lay down with him on the bed for about a half hour until he fell asleep, then tiptoed out. I think he woke up a few minutes ago and then went back to sleep, which is a good sign. 

I have no idea how the rest of this night will go. Last night even in the familiarity of his pack 'n play in my bedroom he suddenly woke up hysterical around 11 PM and when I went in he had climbed up onto my bed and was perched there. It made me nervous about doing the switch tonight - but again, there's no time like the present, right? I've waited a long time for the opportunity to move B into his own space and I'll be damned if I'm going to sabotage it now. 

This is another one of those milestones that are now permanently met - much like feeding him real adult food, he'll never go back to breast milk. He's in a real bed in his own room - where he'll be until he moves out. The next big one is potty training which I have no intention of attempting any time soon, and then entrusting him to the LA school system every day. One giant leap forward, huh?

Why did the children put beans in their ears?

"Why did the children
            put beans in their ears
            when the one thing we told the children
            they must not do
            was put beans in their ears?

            "Why did the children
            pour molasses on the cat
            when the one thing we told the children
            they must not do 
            was pour molasses on the cat?"

- Carl Sandberg

God bless 'im, I do believe Carl Sandberg summed up the dilemma of parenting in those few lines. Right now I am asking myself, "why???" Why does Bumpus have to be so utterly exasperating sometimes? And there is no answer to this except to say, "because it's his nature." Because he's a normal toddler boy. Because I was like that, and my mother and father were like that, and their patents before them, and on and on. 

I think of my mother often at these times - I think about my personal issues, the things that plague me every day; fear of birth, financial woes, house stuff, issues around my business - and wonder what she was dealing with when I was B's age - a crappy relationship, feeling trapped and oppressed, exploring a new (dangerous) religion. I think about my aunt, who is closer to my experience in that she had two boys two years apart (my mother had two girls ten years apart). How did she feel? Did she bemoan her house being ransacked on a daily basis as I do? Was she as fed up with the kicking, screaming, and tantrums as I am? Probably. Just like every mother of every toddler since the beginning of time. And so it goes.

Today did not begin well. Honestly, none of my days begin well - they are always a morass of being kicked in the uterus, elbowed in the eye, cleaning up the pee and poop positively pouring out of B's overnight diaper (and having to wash all of his bedding and pjs), feebly entreating B to please stop banging the door into the wall over and over and over again (all of my walls now have door knob-shaped holes in them), watching helplessly as he pulls down my lamp, climbs on the dresser and throws himself back on the mirror over and over, pulls down all my jewelry, empties all the drawers on the floor, and tips over the glass of water by my bed, each time throwing a fit when I tell him no or take something out of his hands. This is what goes on from 6:30 AM until 8:30 AM when I finally give up trying to get any more rest or trying to interest him in whatever cloying children's programming is on and just give up and get him breakfast. I would like to point out that he screams, struggles to get out of his high chair, and kicks me all through breakfast, too, until he *finally* settles down just a little bit. Then I strap him in the car and drive somewhere - anywhere - just so I can get a fucking BREAK. And then I only have eight hours to go. And this is our day, every day. And I hate it.

Today I was all excited because I'd set up his room completely the night before, so left both of our doors open in the plan that, bored with my grown-up room, he would trot on over to his own room and play with the rocking car, tent, and bevy of toys when he woke up. Nope. He just went in there, saw that the door from his room to the living room was closed, and stood in front of it crying hysterically until I came and got him. No amount of distraction with the toys or TV would help. He just came in and slammed my door over and over and tore my whole room apart again. I would like to point out that he does not want to be held or cuddled during any of this. It seems like the only thing he wants to do is slam doors, throw everything on the floor, and throw things in the toilet. These are the only things that make him happy.

I shudder to imagine what it's going to be like trying to get him to sleep in that room tonight. I can only see it as a big fat failure. I think I have a lot of rough nights ahead of me. But I have to at least try. He has to sleep in there eventually, right? So, try I must. But considering the reaction to the room this morning it does not bode well at all.

Operation Big Boy Room

Bumpus' room is done - sort of. Since the inside of the doors and the inside of the door frames were the last to be painted, I was advised not to close the doors at all for 24 hours, and the longer I could hold out, the better. Which sucks considering I wanted this whole transition to the big room done weeks ago. But truth be told there's a ton I need to do to make it habitable - a bit of painting (although honestly I may just say the heck with the painting), a lot of moving furniture around, and general organizing. I tried to do it all last night but it was just impossible - after getting B to bed, taking out five bags of trash (down three flights of stairs), carting a bunch of junk up the ladder to the playroom, carting a bunch of stuff down the ladder to the bedroom, two loads of laundry, setting up his bed, sorting a bunch of newborn clothes, unscrewing (with a quarter) his vintage high chair set up and remaking it into a table and chair, and being thirsty, starving, and having to pee, I decided to make it a two night process. 

So tonight I'll wheel the crib into my bedroom in preparation for Theo, wheel the impractical vintage buggy into the living room in preparation for being sold, organize more clothes, and in general make the room safe and clean for him to be in without my supervision. 

The last two days I've been plunking him on the bed with some toys to make it a safe, fun place for him in the hopes that it's not scary. I have NO idea how he's going to react to being put to bed there instead of his (now tiny) pack and play. So I'm trying to get him used to the idea of the bedroom being the fun place where the toys are and where he sleeps. Alone. Like a big boy. Can he do it???

I think tomorrow night's the night. My one big concern is the room is not at all sound proofed from the living room - just testing it out with the door closed and the TV on in the living room...well...it sounds like the TV is right in his room. Which could be a major problem. Or could not matter at all. Maybe it'll make him feel safe knowing I'm right there?? 

Anyway, operation Big Boy Room is in effect. Tonight will (hopefully) be the last night I spend with B in my room. Four short months of autonomy and then T will be in there. Not sure when I'll move him in with Bumpus. I guess like everything so far, I'll play it by ear!

Braxton Hicksing

I was Braxton Hicksing all over the place yesterday. It really had me worried, and had me looking up "signs of preterm labor" again and again and wondering if I should drag B out of bed and go to the emergency room. In the end I tried to remember what I'd had to drink all day and realized it was a cup of tea in the morning and just a couple of mouthfuls of water during the day - no wonder! I had a bottle of water and immediately the almost constant contractions stopped and haven't been heard from since. So yet another thing I'm going to have to do better. I've been reluctant to really fill my

bladder lately because when I sneeze (and I sneeze all day long) and have a full

bladder, I pee my pants. And not just a little squirt - a full-on accident wherein I have to change my underwear and pants. Now I get those commercials for Depends which depict a woman joyfully jumping on a trampoline saying, "I've had four kids!"

Bumpus' room can't be ready fast enough. I'm soooo tired of him pulling apart my whole bedroom in the morning. I was hoping I'd get an extra hour of sleep due to the time change, but of course not - he had me up at 6:45, and would not be satiated by cartoons; he was a ball of energy today, just ripping the whole room apart until I finally gave in and got up to make him breakfast. Now we're up in the playroom where he can horse around at will. I don't know that he'll even want to spend time in his room - he usually wants to be where I am. But I figure if I put all the fun things in there...maybe...? He seemed very content sitting at a kid's table at a friend's party the other day and messing around with crayons - I'm not quite ready to unleash him on the world of objects that make marks, but I did just order him some of those markers that only write on a special mat. I can live with that. Maybe, just maybe, I can sneak out for a shower...?

I'm also so glad he'll have a playmate in the next couple of years. As noted I completely suck in that department, so the idea of two boys who can play together is awesome. Just thinking about being able to go to a playground and be able to sit and watch rather than follow him around on the damned thing to make sure he doesn't crack open his skull - heaven!

Finally have made some decisions regarding my upcoming event and who to hire. I will send out all offers next week and see what I can get. Nothing would quash my anxiety better than having my event set up and ready to go for next year. In other news, I have been sending out DVDs for this German couple for nearly ten years as a little side job, and this week they wrote to tell me they're closing their shop. This has been coming for some time so honestly I'm somewhat relieved - I sure could use the space their DVDs and old VHS currently take up in my office, and with a new baby the job will be very stressful. But this does also

mean I am now out a guaranteed $200 + in income a month for something I only have to deal with every other week or so. Still, it isn't bothering me like I'd been expecting - I guess because I know I need to simplify my life now, and although it'll hurt now to not have that money, someday when things turn around I won't even notice. Sunrise, sunset, huh?

Stuff, Part II

My mood has been astoundingly good since my meltdown last week. I can legitimately blame hormones for this roller coaster, right??? Now I feel like myself. I don't know what came over me last Monday. I blame the music.

Tonight I spent some rare quality time with my computer. I try to never use it unless it's something I can't do on my phone. One thing I can't do from my phone (I don't think) is work on Amazon wish lists. I need to update B's for Christmas and his birthday, take off all the books and DVDs I no longer want from my own wish list, and start a registry for baby Theo. So I got those tasks done (mostly) tonight.

Can I just say what a pleasure it is to work on a baby registry when you know from experience what you actually use??? It's AWESOME. I remember last time I had a LOT of anxiety about "stuff", and rightfully so - so much of the stuff I got I never used. And I hate not using things, almost as much as I hate having to figure out what to do with the things I haven't used. The only thing I'm having a hard time selecting is a baby monitor - I never used one with B because he was always in my room with me, but babysitters could really have used one, so I would like to invest in an IPhone compatible monitor. I have to do a lot more research first, though. That's a big ticket item. The other stuff, though - I just need another Brest Friend, a double stroller, some Halo swaddlers, a diaper genie (I'm waving the white flag with my cute vintage diaper pail - it positively REEKS), and...that's kind of it. Mom Guru gave me a ton of newborn clothes so I am set there, and if I do have a shower (I hope...?) I'm sure I'll get lots of clothes anyway. It's just such a joy to know exactly what you need for a baby, and realize, yeah - not much!

B's room is still not done, of course. The doors are hung but not finished; lots of little details still to do. I have to say, I love the look of the doors. Especially the new kitchen door which has a window in it and which festered in my shed all this time and I'm finally using. I cannot wait to set everything up in B's room. I never did get to set up a proper nursery that B would spend any time in, so this is kind of my chance - he will sleep in there, get dressed in there, hopefully play in there. I'm excited. Probably not 'til next week, though. I'll take pictures.

In other news, was semi convinced I was in pre-term labor last night. I'm still not entirely convinced I'm not; I'm Braxton Hicks-ing all over the place, but only when I sit a certain way (in the car, or the glider). Obviously I'm not overly concerned - I know Braxton Hicks start around now and it's totally normal. I just think last time I didn't know what this feeling was, but now I do, so I'm more aware of it. Last time I remember I'd been having Braxton Hicks for months before I could pinpoint what they were. That odd tightening of the belly along with a tingling along your skull - there's really nothing quite like it. And they're nothing like actual labor. But I'm just in that funny in-between zone where I'm just pregnant enough but still three weeks from any kind of viability - and at the point where things seem to go fatally wrong for a lot of people. So it's a bit nerve wracking.

I have two - count 'em, TWO - movie dates with girlfriends this weekend, while B goes to play at the Baby Kennel. Boy do I need it!