What fun!
Know what our average evening/day has looked like this past week?
I get home from work and start making supper while my whiny babe clings to my legs hoping for some attention. Then while supper is cooking I put together a box and chuck some stuff into it. Anything really. Organization has been completely thrown out the window. The way I see it it will be an adventure opening them up. Like Christmas! "Whoa, what's in THIS box? A shoe? Some canned corn? Windex? Wowza!"
Oh yeah, back to our evening: By this time my husband is home and we try to act like a loving family for 35 seconds while we kiss and hug. And then it's back to the mess that is our home. We eat a quick supper and then spend the rest of the evening pretending to pack and snapping at our daughter, telling her not to get into stuff. "No, Abby, not the Vim. Ah, well, I suppose it'll help the digestive system." Around 8 or 8:30 we throw her in bed and try to do some more packing. Well, TRY. Unfortunately, some of that time is also spent sitting on the couch watching whatever mindless TV we can to help us ignore the large sums of destruction that has become our home.
Around 10:30 J-L goes on to the computer to play a little cribbage and I crash into bed hoping to read for a little bit. And when I say read for a bit I honestly mean stare at pages and try to stop my eyes from crossing in shear exhaustion.
Oh, one would think my story would end there, dull as it may be. Nope, not true. The nighttime oh the nighttime. Glorious night when one can sleep away one's stress and worries... [Sound of screeching brakes] Well, MOST can sleep... Not so us. I believe my darling babe slept better at one month's of age than she does now. She wakes a minimum of twice a night these days. And the thing is, her screams have gotten a lot louder than when she was a babe. Translated: A LOT more difficult to ignore/sleep through. And so, in desperation we take her to bed with us.* And this makes her happy. This helps her sleep. Helps HER sleep, not us so much. For some reason she likes to sleep with us but she doesn't actually want us in the bed. That doesn't make sense to you? Well, me neither. That is, she works her utmost to kick us out of bed. Oh, the love.
6:30 comes and we feel ohsorested and ready to take on the day. The bluebirds are chirping at our windows and we whistle while we ready ourselves for work. There is nothing but sweetness and love.
And then we trot off to work. And, if you're me, type up an insanely long stream of consciousness blog in order to stay awake. And we begin the cycle all over again.
Thus is my happy little life these days. Bet you're jealous.
* Oh yes, I know. You can keep your pseudo-psycholog... psychi.. oh crap, I'm too tired for this... You can keep your tsk-tsking in your head. I know we are the ones creating the cycle by giving in to her every night. By letting her sleep with us. I know that but somehow at 4 am when the shrieking has reached a glass-piercing level I will scale mountains on foot or cross oceans in a row boat (well, okay, maybe not that as even TYPING that took too much energy) to Make It Stop.
I get home from work and start making supper while my whiny babe clings to my legs hoping for some attention. Then while supper is cooking I put together a box and chuck some stuff into it. Anything really. Organization has been completely thrown out the window. The way I see it it will be an adventure opening them up. Like Christmas! "Whoa, what's in THIS box? A shoe? Some canned corn? Windex? Wowza!"
Oh yeah, back to our evening: By this time my husband is home and we try to act like a loving family for 35 seconds while we kiss and hug. And then it's back to the mess that is our home. We eat a quick supper and then spend the rest of the evening pretending to pack and snapping at our daughter, telling her not to get into stuff. "No, Abby, not the Vim. Ah, well, I suppose it'll help the digestive system." Around 8 or 8:30 we throw her in bed and try to do some more packing. Well, TRY. Unfortunately, some of that time is also spent sitting on the couch watching whatever mindless TV we can to help us ignore the large sums of destruction that has become our home.
Around 10:30 J-L goes on to the computer to play a little cribbage and I crash into bed hoping to read for a little bit. And when I say read for a bit I honestly mean stare at pages and try to stop my eyes from crossing in shear exhaustion.
Oh, one would think my story would end there, dull as it may be. Nope, not true. The nighttime oh the nighttime. Glorious night when one can sleep away one's stress and worries... [Sound of screeching brakes] Well, MOST can sleep... Not so us. I believe my darling babe slept better at one month's of age than she does now. She wakes a minimum of twice a night these days. And the thing is, her screams have gotten a lot louder than when she was a babe. Translated: A LOT more difficult to ignore/sleep through. And so, in desperation we take her to bed with us.* And this makes her happy. This helps her sleep. Helps HER sleep, not us so much. For some reason she likes to sleep with us but she doesn't actually want us in the bed. That doesn't make sense to you? Well, me neither. That is, she works her utmost to kick us out of bed. Oh, the love.
6:30 comes and we feel ohsorested and ready to take on the day. The bluebirds are chirping at our windows and we whistle while we ready ourselves for work. There is nothing but sweetness and love.
And then we trot off to work. And, if you're me, type up an insanely long stream of consciousness blog in order to stay awake. And we begin the cycle all over again.
Thus is my happy little life these days. Bet you're jealous.
* Oh yes, I know. You can keep your pseudo-psycholog... psychi.. oh crap, I'm too tired for this... You can keep your tsk-tsking in your head. I know we are the ones creating the cycle by giving in to her every night. By letting her sleep with us. I know that but somehow at 4 am when the shrieking has reached a glass-piercing level I will scale mountains on foot or cross oceans in a row boat (well, okay, maybe not that as even TYPING that took too much energy) to Make It Stop.
posted by ccap at 8:10 AM
6 Comments:
oh my
we did this with joey. he is 13 now and i am happy to report he no longer wants to sleep with us!
how i helped myself?
plunk toddler in bed with dad. make self a nest on the floor out of anything soft.
sleep better than dad.
yep that's my approach - child in bed with snoring father who wouldn't wake up if elephants sh*t on his head, mother on couch somewhere.
Doesn't work anymore because B doesn't want to lie down beside someone who is asleep because "now I am still alone in the dark"
SIGH.
This will not last forever, although it must feel that way. While there was part of sharing a bed that I liked, when my kids were young, I'm glad I don't have to share with them anymore. Having a toe stuck in your ear is simply not cute at 4 in the morning.
I do hope some of your mindless tv has included Big Brother because I'd hate to be the only one watching that train-wreck :)
And you won't get any tsking from us about kids in the bed. No sirree. I'm thinking we can't have any more kids until we get a bigger bed! :)
Oh yah, we slept with the big one until her fourth birthday, when she got bunk beds, so the transfer was easy. Now we're sleeping with the other one. Anyone who rolls their eyes at me gets told about my dad, who slept with his parents until he was SEVEN. OF course, this was in rural Norway during WWII, and it was just something everyone did over there at this time; no matter, he has no hang-ups related to it now sixty years later that I know of.
Hmm, that I KNOW of...
the 35 second loving family - oh do i kmow what that feels like - just passed through a month of what felt like 35 seconds of faking it - you're telling me it's not a one-time experience, aren't you?
Post a Comment
<< Home