Fevers and Coughs

The weekend was spent nursing a sick kid. Luckily, Munch was in good spirits for the most part. We could all take a lesson for how he conducts himself when he's feeling under the weather--if he complains, then you know it's really bad.

On Friday, it seems he came down with the respiratory thing that is sweeping the nation. He also had a fever, which drives me insane. I check it all the time, running my head over his head, cheeks, and limbs nearly constantly. I try to remember that a fever is the body's way of fighting the infection, but it still whiggs me out. I think: "What underlying problem is this fever indicating?" It used to be that a fever meant an ear infection; however, it seems the fever may have abated today, so maybe his body is just doing its work.

On the whole, it was a nice, productive weekend. Hubs and I cleaned out our closets and dressers in prep for a new bedroom set coming our way in February. Finally, we'll have a queen bed! I'm sure I'll ask how I ever slept in a full-size for all this time, especially since a third body often wiggles in.

Update on Sleep

I am happy to report that for the past 6 days, Munch has adapted to our new routine. Firstly, we all go up to brush our teeth together, which Munch LOVES, then Hubs and I both go in to sway him for three lullabys at the end of which we kiss him and lie him in the crib. Then, we lie on the floor next to him until he falls asleep, which is generally within 15 minutes. The first night, he screamed for an hour, and that was hard, but I reminded myself--I am touching him through the bars, I'm right here, I don't need to pick him up. And, largely, he is sleeping, and he's sleeping longer in his crib. Of course, the illness has put a bit of a wrench in that, but only after he's initially not had an issue falling asleep. I hope this progress solidifies and continues.

One thing that really helped me was in my downtrodden post about this issue--I sort of wrote myself into an answer. It was about me feeling I have to put him to sleep rather than trusting him to put himself to sleep. It's a bit of letting go, of knowing he can do it, of being there more as quiet support and reassurance rather than active participation. This may be the story of motherhood. I know I'll need to eventually transition to not lying on the floor next to him. But this is much better than holding him for an hour and hoping he eventually falls asleep.

The best part of the weekend (or was this late last week?) was when Munch sat between Hubs and me and the floor, holding a bowl of Goldfish. Then he kissed each of us (by making a smacking sound with his lips and offering his head to our lips), then went to the front door and said, "Buh Bye!" This kid!

Resolutions are still mostly on track. I did break one last night--the reading, which was thwarted because of the late running of the Golden Globes, then the prompt wake-up of my sickly. I did read for an hour one night and 45 minutes another, so that must count for something, right? I went to the gym both Friday and Saturday and tracked food, though my meals were a bit higher than I'd like. 29 points is not very much at all, unfortunately!

"Tree. Buh Bye!"

Christmas 2012 officially ended in our household over the weekend. Munch, though not crazy about the attention Hubs and I had to give to the tree-dissembling, loved watching Daddy haul the tree out the door and even more loved watching Mommy vacuum up the leftover needles (which he then proceeded to pick off the soles of his bare feet).

Now, he points to the bare spot where the tree stood and says, "Tree. Buh Bye!" It's so cute, and, I believe, his first official sentence--two thoughts together, anyway!

But, it seems we're either in a transition period or still just having a rough-ish transition back to routine after being off from work and traveling over Christmas and New Years. Munch did so well all the way to New Year's Eve, though, napping and sleeping at mostly the appointed times, that I guess I didn't realize we had much transition to go through. Basically, sleep is sucking right now--or, rather, since we all pretty much sleep eventually, bedtime is sucking.

Confession

I didn't sleep train my son. There, I said it. I feel it's this dirty little secret I've been keeping, and reading mommy blogs where they talk about laying their babies down awake niggle into my brain as I know that Hubs or I spend 15-60 minutes swaying a 21-month-old to sleep before making the delicate transition to the crib.

I cannot let him cry. I just can't. Especially now that he inserts a desperately choke-screamed, Mommy!! when we let him sit in his crib for 5 minutes after we've unsuccessfully swayed for 60.

However, I know that there are ways to sleep train without crying it out and I just haven't fully committed to any of them. I imagined that as he grew older, he would come to understand that the crib is his bed and his bed is nice and it's there for sleeping. It would be a positive place for him. What it appears that he's learned is that the Big Bed is there for sleeping and it's much better and friendlier than his lonely crib. This also I've done to him, bringing him into the bed with us when he wakes at 1am instead of taking the time to sway him back to sleep. I've only got myself to blame, right?

And there it is: blame. I just keep saying over and over, I've done this to him, I've done this to him, I'm doing this to him. After all, he lies down by himself to sleep at day care. Mommy's presence is the X factor.

I tell myself I'm being dramatic. He'll sleep eventually, he'll get it eventually. But my mom didn't cry it out, but rather rocked me. And I have a very hard time as an adult getting to sleep. I understand I cannot say one caused the other, as I'm sure many other factors go into my adult sleeping troubles, not the least of which is my overactive, never-quiet mind.

But, the niggling thought: I'm doing this to him, setting him up for a lifetime of bad sleep.

Isn't this what we parents, but mostly we mothers, fear so much? That what we do now will have long-lasting detrimental effects. There's the old cliche: In therapy, everyone blames everything on the mothers. When we adults, or at least we adults trying to figure our shit out, take a macro look at our lives, Mother looms large. She's the one who loved us fiercest, protected us tirelessly, and helped set our course in the world.

But, in my son's case, she's the one who aided him to sleep instead of trusting him to do it himself. She's the one who has the TV on too much and feeds him ramen every night. Sure, he won't eat anything else, but maybe a better mother could get him to. She's the one who left him at day care. I'm the one.

Anyway, clearly I'm spiraling over this sleep thing. Parenting is hard. No one who hasn't done it gets it. I feel I have a life in my hands and it's my responsibility to make it his best one. We spend a third of our lives sleeping. That's a lot of time to fuck up.

But, surely all hope is not lost. Surely, I won't be swaying a 60-pound 2nd grader to sleep every night. Surely, we can take charge of this thing and "fix" it--change the routine. It will not be easy with my strong-willed boy. But, if only for his sake, I have to give it my best shot.

Fair Game

This weekend was a varied activity stay-at-home weekend, and it was largely great.

The Highlight:

• Hard to choose between my all-time favorite outdoor event of the year, the Montgomery County Fair, and Saturday evening at the Gettysburg outlets and dinner. So, we'll go with both!
• Highlight 1: Meeting my mom and sister in Gettysburg was wonderful. Munch loved running around the gazebo and testing all the wooden rockers, and my family got some much-needed quiet time with him while Hubs and I did some much-needed shopping. Munch and Hubs got new shoes that they very much needed and I got new purple sandals that Hubs wanted me to get as well as a cool heart necklace.
  
  Dinner at Gettysburg Eddie's was terrific, complete with frozen mango margurita. Munch behaved pretty well until, as we were waiting for the check, our waitress was facing away from us, bent over to take another table's order, and there goes Munch's pointer finger toward that heiny. Hubs said, No no, very sternly. Munch paused, let the pac fall from his mouth, and then crumpled his face up in a devestated how-could-he-say-that-to-me cry. Then, after a cuddle from mommy and pac back in. The pointer finger moved ever so slightly the same way. Repeat. Repeat. This little game was so funny!
• Highlight 2: The fair. The weather was lovely, though hot in the sun, not humid. We ate the usual, corn dogs, ice cream, cinnamon almonds, yum. Munch enjoyed looking at the animals (my favorite, the baby piglets nursing), and he pointed at every balloon we saw. He only lasted about 2 hours, though, as he got very hot, wanted to squish his balloon to his chest, and play with his stroller when he got out.

The Good:

• Just being home in the mornings and having Munch take his nap at home. These quiet spaces, when Munch is in such a good mood and just playing, and then sleeping restfully, are the best parts of my week.
• Panera bagels on Sunday morning.
• Watching Sherlock Holmes 2 with Hubs on Friday night. Or was it Saturday? Who knows.
• Finishing Gone Girl. Wild! (Ah yes, so the movie must have been Friday. Who cares??)
• Seeing Lara and Laura for our 8 of 8 see-you-at-least-once-a-month 2012 plan.
• Getting some cleaning done.

The What???

• Munch is back to being very sniffly and coughing. I know it's post-nasal drip coughing, but these are the moments I feel the most helpless as a mother. I want to help him, and there's very little I can do.
• Consequently, Munch napped very fitfully and shortly on Sunday and coughed himself awake at 5am this morning. He was in the sweetest mood, just lying around with us from 5-7am, but boy does that start the week out roughly.
• Munch is boundary-pushing, big time, and I am the boundary setter, and a poor one. Okay, not poor yet, I won't judge myself quite yet, but boundaries are tough for me in general. Welcome to parenthood of a toddler. I feel like I have confused him, now that he wants to move from playing with the answering machine (an activity he and I both enjoy) to messing with lamps and the mug tree. Now, this whole thing has to stop, and last night he cried so hard because I wouldn't let him do his normal fiddling. He's strong-willed, my boy, and it'll take some time for him to get over this. He is not easily diverted or distracted. What's that saying, Your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness. And when I'm exhausted, that doesn't help.
• Gettysburg Eddie's did not have a changing table. What?? Luckily, Munch just had a major pee that we changed lying out in the grass by the parking lot, but what if he'd had a blow-out, as he is wont to do in restaurants?

Munchkin Slept

Last night was a glorious return to normalcy, and Hubs and I hope it will be the routine rather than the exception.

We met Hub's dad in Gettysburg yesterday evening for dinner, and Munch fell asleep during the hour-long ride home. Of course waking up upon me putting the car into park. (It was ultimately good because he was so sweaty from his day and running around the Outlets.)

After bath and bottle, Hubs took him up to sway him to sleep. I received a text 25 minutes later that Munch was quiet but with eyes wide open. Arms were commencing to fall off. I went up to try my share, and Munch was asleep in about 20 minutes, so around 10:40pm.

First wakeup was right in line with Munch's routine--about 1:10am (the good thing about NBC's Olympics coverage is all-night programming, at least til 4:30am!). And, bless him, Munch let me lay him back in the crib! He cried out twice at 5am, but stopped, and then didn't cry full out until 6:15am. At which point he finished the night in our bed and woke up smiling, as did we.

Yay for Munch! Yay for solid sleep for all!

High-Pitched Scream

Well, I'm taking Munch to the doctor tomorrow morning to see if we can identify any physical symptom that could be causing his sleep difficulties.

We stayed the night at my MIL's last night after Hubs and I got back from Wolf Trap at 12 midnight. (Of course, Munch fell asleep on his own, on the couch next to his grandma around 9). Munch slept til 2:10; nursed; then actually allowed me to lay him back down in the pack n play. I counted this as a victory.

4:39am. Hubs and I are awoken by an ear-piercing scream. I grabbed up Munch and he settled, but then he kept arching his back and screaming periodically, even when I put him in bed with us, and then even when he nursed. We tried Advil. Of course, by 5:15, he was awake and pointing at the light switch and the doorknob.

So, I took him downstairs and sat with him while he played, watching the blue light of dawn grow brighter out the back patio door. It was quite peaceful, actually. Munch was in a very pleasant mood, and he alternated between sitting nicely on my lap and playing.

Around 6, he sat on my lap on the floor and played his "iPod" over and over and I think started lulling himself to sleep. I rocked him and sang "Angels From the Realms of Glory," kind of, of all things, and he fell asleep. I laid him up in the bed between Hubs and I and slept until 8.

Though I was tired today, I cherished the quiet pre-dawn time I shared with Munch. It was calming and peaceful.

Sleep Travails

This week has been challenging sleep-wise. I don't know what is going on, whether he has a physical reason or what, but the Munch has been waking up frequently and having a tough time getting back to sleep once he has woken up.

Source

Wednesday night/Thursday morning, he woke up at 4:40am. Just up. He was sleeping next to me and I felt the tell-tale (adorable at a reasonable time) tap-tap on my shoulder. Up. Wanted to be held. And he didn't go back to sleep.

When these things happen, I think parents go into over-analysis mode.  What are we doing wrong?? Should we be letting him cry?? Will we ever sleep soundly again??? What do we DO???

Usually, when we hit this "breaking point," usually we find out that Munch is experiencing something physical. An ear infection. A bellyache. The jury is still out on this one.

Last night, things were better, though he still ended up in our bed for the majority of the night and then popped up awake at 6am. Now, 6am is night-and-day (literally) different from 4:40am. But, I was still tired. We let him get down onto our floor with Monkey while we rested and kept a groggy eye on him. He chilled for a while.

Then, he went to the foot of our bed, still on the floor, laid down and fell asleep. What a stinker!

Short on Sleep, But Together

The weekend was quite nice. Mainly quiet and relaxing.

The Highlight:

• The Munch played in his little blowup pool outside on Sunday. The pool is very little, he can't even stretch out in it, but it does the job. He splashed and also climbed in and out and laid on his belly. He also had a great time on his slide again, climbing up and going down headfirst like a wet seal.

The Good:

• The Munch was in a great mood most of the time. He played and laughed and woke up happy.
• Lunch on Saturday at Seasons 52 with friends was wonderful.
• I finally cleaned up the kitchen and Munch's toys and Swiftered the floors.
• Watching "True Blood" and "Next Food Network Star" with Hubbaland is always a great way to end the weekend.

The What??

• Munch is having a very rough time sleeping. Sunday night, he woke up literally every hour until I finally gave him Advil and brought him to sleep in our bed at 11:30. He slept well until he started tossing and turning around 4, and I put him back in his crib until the morning. He slept restlessly on Friday and Saturday as well, so consequently, I'm feeling drained. The culprit: Teeth? Right ear, which he keeps fiddling with? We may never know.

Mornings = The Best

I've never been a morning person. My internal clock, even from childhood, has always urged me to stay up late (1, 2am) and get up late (11, I'm lookin at you!). For years, I fought this about myself, believing it made me a slacker who didn't achieve as much as my counterparts who rose at 6 and had run 3 miles, cleaned the kitchen, and made a 4-course breakfast by 9.

But no, research shows that everyone is different. Some come alive at the crack of dawn; others of us function best when the stars are brightest.

My 15-month-old son--he's a morning person. (Not TOO much of one--luckily, he likes to sleep til 8 or 9). But when he pops up from his 11-hour snooze, he is AWAKE, bouncing, and usually bursting with smiles to greet the day.

Hubbaland and I, as we slog toward our workaday activities, dragging our feet and longing for our heads on our pillows, often comment that we could learn a lot from this little wonder who has breathed air for less than 2 years. He's pumped. He's ready. He's looking for the next great adventure. And he's perfectly content when that adventure leads to the same book over and over.