He actually, finally slept through the night! And and and… Not only did he sleep through the night, but when we went out to lunch today with the hub, Orion slept through that as well. WHICH NEVER, EVER HAPPENS. The universe clearly owes me one and finally threw me a bone.
How could I stay upset with this cherubic little sleeping bubby? Keep your fingers crossed for tonight.
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Thanks to baby’s teething, then cold, then ear infection, I’m on day 13 of craptastic sleep (also known as OMG-I’m-dangerous-so-stay-out-of-my-way-for-your-own-safety) although it seems like day 13,485. It’s amazing how much not sleeping can really make simple things—like forming a coherent thought or finding the motherfucking ketchup in the fridge when it’s right in front of your motherfucking face—nearly impossible. I promise to get back to some more substantial blog posts soon. I’ve got some pretty fun topics planned for the near future, so keep coming back. Please?
But in the meantime, let’s have a nice, relaxing breath of lavender, shall we?
This is from our backyard garden, where we also grow rosemary, three kinds of thyme, oregano, basil, two kinds of peppers, several kinds of heirloom tomatoes, eggplant, lemons, oranges, garlic, lettuces, potatoes and yams. And chard. Oh, the chard.
This bad boy has been going for several months and it just won’t stop producing. Below is just one meal’s worth. There’s mucho mas where that came from.
Who’s behind the chard? PEEKABOO! Oh GOD, I need sleep…
Maybe it’s the compost we use (we make our own, and I can tell you how to do it yourself if you’re interested) or maybe our soil is just magic—especially amazing considering we live in urban Southern California, not exactly prime farmland these days. Case in point: last summer we went on vacation for 10 days, leaving behind some little pumpkin blooms, and when we returned, these monsters were lurking in the pumpkin patch.
I’ve been surprised by how easy gardening is. (Maybe because my husband ends up doing most of the grunt work? Nah, that can’t be it.) Not too long ago the hub stuck a potato in the earth and later dug it up to find a bunch of little potato babies. Just like that. It’s amazing to have this knowledge and intimacy of how food grows and where it comes from. Watching it grow and thrive is a bit like watching a child grow and change and become what he’s meant to be.
Pretty amazing indeed. (Even with the sleepless nights.)
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I used to be a champion, world-class sleeper. Afternoon nap? Yes, please. Sleeping in ‘til 10 on the weekends? Duh. There was absolutely nothing better than curling up with the kitty and checking out for an hour or ten.
Sadly, those indulgent days are long gone for me.
My kid is the worst sleeper ever. Ever since he was a tiny newborn, he preferred to be in the center of the action, never wanting to miss a moment, even if he was blindingly, crazily exhausted. And even if he was exhausted, he never went down without a fight. Every nap and bedtime was, and is, a huge production, requiring any combination of nursing, rocking, bouncing on an exercise ball, back rubbing, miscellaneous cajoling and sometimes (often) all of the above.
We’re talking before every nap, and every bedtime, I spend no less than a half hour each time (and upwards of an hour or more) trying to coax him to sleep. If I were to add up all the time I’ve spent trying to get him to sleep, it would equal several months of my life.
And even with all this effort put into lulling him to sleep, there’s no guaranteeing he’ll stay asleep. No, not for the lightest sleeper in the known universe. Once he’s nursed/rocked/bounced to sleep, all household activity must cease. There will be no loud noises, no housework, no showering (because each of our showers border either side of his room, and the water whooshing though is REALLY LOUD in there), nothing. For if there is a disruptive sound, doorbell, phone call, unfamiliar voice, door shutting, etc., He Who Does Not Sleep will awaken, and even if it has only been a 10 minute nap thus far, will not go back to sleep.
This week has been even worse than usual.
I am a staggering, babbling, un-showered zombie because for the past seven loooong days and night, he’s been even more of an insomniac baby than ever before. He’s only napping about 30 minutes during the day, and has been waking up every night for at least two hours at a time, sometimes after I’ve only been asleep for 45 minutes. I’ve adjusted to giving up the naps and not sleeping in, but this two-hour wake up period every night is killing me. I feel like I have a newborn again. MAMA GO CRAZY. I am dangerously, stupidly tired.
The happy news is that he has at least one molar to show for this past week of sleepless hell. (It seems like it’s been so much longer than one week!) Hopefully there are more in there—seeing as how he tends to sprout multiple teeth at once. Baby shark won’t let me see in there without a fight though, so I’ll have to get back to you on that.
So if you want to know why I’m not writing much lately, it’s because I’m using every ounce of my energy to not go completely off the deep end.
I’ll get back to regularly scheduled blogging again soon, that is, if I don’t end up at the funny farm first.
Good thing this kid is damn cute.
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Yesterday was one of those days I really had to talk myself down from the ledge, figuratively speaking.
I recently faced some criticism about the way I parent and was bombarded with unsolicited advice, which really got me upset and made me question what the hell I was doing. I’ve spent the last year reading, learning, experimenting and following my gut instincts, on duty 24/7, getting to know my little man and figuring out all his many quirks that make him who he is, and I was feeling pretty good about how things were going, until… There’s no need to hash out the details, because I think we’ve all been down that road before. The real problem is that I allowed the criticism to eat away at me until the point where I was questioning everything I was doing.
So Orion and I went to the park looking for some zen and to hang out with the trees; there’s nothing like getting out into nature for a little clarity. (Or in the case of this city girl, nature = a couple acres of green space in the midst of a sprawling megalopolis. Which works for me in a pinch.)
Now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I’m feeling much better.
Because you know what? Any first-time parent is bound to make some mistakes. No one embarks on this voyage knowing everything; we fumble along until we start to see some light here and there. Parents can drive themselves crazy with all the things they’re “supposed to” and “should be” doing—and we certainly don’t need anyone else’s help making us neurotic. Really what we need to be doing is loving our kids and doing the best we can. Which is absolutely my game plan. It’s my life, my family, my decisions, and it’s my right to make my own mistakes. And just because I’m not doing things your way doesn’t make it a mistake.
Obviously my kid is amazing so I must be doing something right. I just need to (re)learn to trust my own instincts and embrace confidence.
We’re doing just fine, don’t you think?
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This post was inspired by Maggie over at mightygirl.net, who penned a Mighty Life List of 100 things she wants to do with her time here on this lovely ball o’ clay, and who also—quite auspiciously—has had the privilege of some may-jah corporate heavyweights sponsoring her quest to check a few items off said list. It suuure would be nice to have a few sponsors for my list. Hint hint. (Hi Intel! I love your MacBook processors. Why hello, Verizon. I’m really enjoying your FiOS TV and Internet.)
Anyhoo. Without further ado, sponsored or not, here is my Life List. I could only come up with 71 so far, and I didn’t want to simply pad it out to artificially reach 100. (A hundred items is actually REALLY hard to come up with! Try it. You’ll see.) I know I’ll come up with more, and I’ll update my list when lightning strikes.
Jump out of an airplane || Own an organic farm || Learn how to play the guitar || Relearn how to play piano || Buy a house || Start a family || Raise happy, healthy children || Publish a novel || Sell a screenplay || Master an advanced super bendy yoga pose || Travel to India || Have a totally healthy, eco friendly home || Vacation at an eco village in the Amazon || See the Egyptian pyramids. || Attend SXSW || Attend Sundance Film Festival || Attend the Academy Awards || Go paragliding || Have a backyard garden || Get in shape—like hard body, abs of steel kind of shape || Train and run a half marathon (a full marathon would probably kill me) || Take a long road trip in an EV all the way to Maine || Take singing lessons || Make my own cheese and yogurt || Travel across Europe through France, Germany, Austria the Netherlands, Italy, Spain, Belgium, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Great Britain and Scotland. (I counted these countries individually.) || Dinner at elBulli || Swim with dolphins || Voluntourism in an impoverished nation || Attend BlogHer || Learn how to speak my mind, even if my voice shakes || Take an acting class || Change someone’s life for the better || Fly a helicopter || Live in California || Take a commercial flight into space (not very green, but oh so fascinating) || See more magic in the world || Keep up on world news on a daily basis || Eat (mostly) vegetarian || Meditate daily || Get out in nature daily || Fly on a trapeze || Safari in Africa || Scuba dive at the Great Barrier Reef or other cool dive spot || LASIK || Invisalign braces || Climb a major mountain || Ride a bike down a (dormant) volcano in Maui || Learn how to surf well (I know how to surf badly) || Give a homeless person a $100 bill || Help deliver a baby || Attend Burning Man || Have enough money to support my parents || Brew my own beer || Learn how to use my camera better in manual mode || Attend Outstanding in the Field || Own a cabin in the woods/mountains somewhere || Love myself as much as I love my child (children) || Lose the post-baby belly flab || Have a pet goat and let it “mow” my lawn || Sail myself to Mexico
So… what’s on your Life List? Do share!
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Bath time at our casa has evolved into father-son bonding time in the past few months. My husband, Erik, typically gets home late from work, and the nightly bath is part of his quality time with Orion. It works out great for me, because usually by then I could use the break, so I’ll spend that time “relaxing” by making dinner or chiseling dried food up off the hardwood floor for the bazillionth time that day.
I do sometimes miss giving Orion his bath—after all, I was the exclusive bath-giver for the first half of his life and I love the ritual of it, with the lotion and butt balm and all that—and I’ll step in for Erik once or twice a week.
So the other night while Erik made dinner, I gave Orion his bath. We had a great time pouring water in and out of cups, soaking the bathroom floor with splashes and sucking on the washcloth. Orion has recently discovered his penis, and like most boys (and men, too, for that matter—heh), thinks it’s hilarious to play with. Also apparently hilarious is standing up and peeing in the bath water, which he’s been doing a lot of lately, always with an impish giggle.
Unfortunately for us this night, urination’s trusty companion came along as well. I think you know what’s coming next. Orion sounded his telltale grunt, and before I knew it, he did the doo, right there in his mini ocean of tiny tugboats and squirting fishies. I used my mommy ninja skills to calmly yet quickly scoop him up out of the water before the poo submarines resurfaced.
Honestly I can’t believe it didn’t happen sooner, in 12+ months of baths. It did happen with Erik once before (Erik: “Ha ha… he’s farting in the tub! Oh. That wasn’t a fart.”) but I thought I had dodged that bullet. Silly me.
Erik was a true hero and did the dirty deed of fetching O’s turd and cleaning up the tub. Rockstar daddy points for him!
Needless to say, it’s going to be a while before I’ll take a relaxing bath in that tub again.
"Who me? Poop in the tub? Never. Okay, maybe a few times."
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As if I needed another reminder of how fast time is flying by, Orion has recently graduated to a forward-facing car seat—a position earned by being older than one year and heavier than 25 pounds. It was just two seconds ago he was a tiny peanut being devoured by his enormous infant car seat. Now, more and more when I look at this little guy, I see a full-on KID, rather than the baby I cradled not so long ago. I’m afraid if I blink once more, the next thing I see will be him in the driver’s seat and me staring at the back of HIS head. (What’s that, ovaries? You say you’re warming up for another one? Soon, my pretties…)
It’s appropriate, really. A new year, a new view. Here’s to facing life head-on, little man.
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{Cue pathetic sniffle.} Today Orion and I are in the throes of cold number two in one month’s time. I used to hardly ever get colds, but ever since becoming a mother I seem to pick up pretty much any bug in a 10-mile radius. It’s likely because I’m not taking the best possible care of myself that I could be—what with never getting quite enough sleep, missing meals, and generally giving up my own welfare to tend to another’s.
Besides vowing to eat better and sleep more in the name of good health, I also need to step up my defenses by keeping my hands clean. Obviously that means more good ol’ fashioned handwashing—which I’ve admittedly been slacking on—but I’m also adding this into the mix:
I’m not a germaphobe (although I’ve played one on the web), and I’m not a fan of conventional hand sanitizers unless I’m traveling, taking public transport or otherwise unable to wash the funk off my hands. Clean George isn’t the average chemi-laden hand sanitizer, though. It’s a hand purifier, see, that shuns potentially dangerous alcohol and triclosan in favor of naturally germ-fighting tea tree, peppermint and manuka oils. And it actually moisturizes the skin nicely, smells lovely, in that earthy, herbal kind of way, and is safe for use on kids. Hurray for Clean George!
No more colds for me. I mean it.
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