Blessings...

I don't feel like I say enough about the wonderfulness that is Charlie here so...

Charlie is a phenomenally bad sleeper. At the same time, I have never had to worry significantly about SIDS, which is great because I'm a real worrier by nature and probably would have been scared to death if he had been a great sleeper.

When we work to be sure Charlie gets enough sleep he rewards us by being one of the most socially adept and cheerful infants I have ever encountered. Charlie giggles and grins and flirts his way through every day. We actually have a lot of trouble when we try to run errands because Charlie smiles at everyone and no one can resist a smiling baby and have to visit with him. I have become a bit like those people who have to tell the fans "no more autographs" so that the star doesn't have to look like a mean-o. Charlie is so very social that he has been trying to flirt with the dogs for a month and is perpetually puzzled as to why they don't smile back. Charlie attempted to flirt with the fish in the fishtank but has since given up on them.

Charlie totally knows how to game the system with The Grin. It will be 3 am and you will be exhausted and in the rocking chair for the 5 th time that night and you will see a little hand sneak out of the blanket and pull the paci out and little brown eyes will lock on yours and a little mouth will grin with 2 little teeth showing though and if you didn't know that to do so would equal hysterical crying (on your part and his) in about 30 minutes you would totally put him on the floor and play. Babysitters have to be specifically cautioned about The Grin and I rather fear for any young lady he sets his sights on in about 20 years. We have a firm "no eye contact" policy during middle of the night checks. I have a way easier time with it since I'm blind as a bat.

If Charlie hadn't been waylayed by those pesky motor milestones, he would totally have his first word and it would be "hi."

Charlie has a joi de vive rarely seen. It first emerged when he was oh so wee and he would latch to my boobs with gusto only to unlatch and latch again in a fabulous booby game. He will squeal with joy at a glimpse of you coming to get him from his crib. Raptures of delight are found by a nice tummy tickle or a good bounce on your lap. Nothing can beat the fun of kicking your feet while your parents attempt to change your diaper. While Charlie is the only infant I know who can actually throw a temper tantrum, the capacity for equally extraordinary joy is there too.

One of those days...

It has been one of those days. Charlie is soooo close to crawling and I spend much of the day listening to his grasping, grunting, and ughing as he stretches and wiggles and squirms and rolls to get what he wants. I have to make a concious effort to not give in to the desire to "rescue" him or, in my less charitible moments, just give him the damn bunny.

Charlie has also learned to start blowing bubbles and spitting. It's an important motor skill as well. It's a precursor to speech and drinking from a cup and any number of other things. But, it's soooo gross. Now whenever he spits up it becomes something to "practice" with. It's almost enough for me to cut him off from eating anything that isn't white.

Things Are Never As Bad or As Good As They Seem

I have been listening to Olivia Joules and the Overactive Imagination in the kitchen as of late and that is one of her rules for living. I have also been watching the series on The Supreme Court on PBS. I had felt my brain slowly turning to mush and decided that I would watch something-educational-damn-it. Lucky me, the series was just starting and I love constitutional law. If my life had gone completely differently I would have become a lawyer specializing on constitutional law. It is such a fabulous blend of abstraction and practicality, psychology, semantics, and history.

As I have watched, I am slowly gaining a perspective I have badly needed. In American history, the end often seems nigh, much more so than even now and we have always managed to muddle through. I have been gnashing my teeth over the current construct of the court and waited with baited breath to see which rights might be revoked; which hard won privileges might be lost. I have made assumptions about current Justices and where the country might be headed. As I watch, I have been awed by where assumption would have led me astray. The story of John Marshal Harlan has been quite inspiring. He was the son of prominent slave holders who came to become an ardent defender of civil rights. I imagine that Oliver Wendell Holmes would drive me to distraction, should he be on the current court, but in the court at the time of The New Deal he seems perfectly acceptable. FDR apparently got quite frustrated with the conservative court at the time and basically blackmailed them into allowing him to govern. This is somewhat concerning seeing as Bush had the same sort of support soon after the 9/11 attacks. Fortunately, he didn't use this to manipulate the court, even if other areas were unduly influenced. In short, it has shown example after example of how society continues to make forward progress in a slow, inexorable fashion, measured in decades and centuries rather than the months and years I would wish. There are setbacks, but also corrections. I apparently just need the patience to weather the storms of democracy and the gumption to spur action when I can.

Serenity Now!

I have developed a deep and abiding love for iSerenity. It's this lovely website that provides various white noise environments that you can stream on your computer. I'm torn between rain and bubbling brook as my favorite. They also have rather interesting choices like library lullaby or purring performance.

Ode to Consumerism

So, we're really of the philosophy that less is more when it comes to toys, particularly at this stage in Charlie's life. On our 2 day out and 2 day back trek to my grandparent's house his very favorite, have to make it another 15 miles before we can stop, always smile toy was my empty Sprite bottle. However, I have noticed that Charlie's equipment needs are rather awe inspiring. He has begun to sit up which lead to a death defying fling from his carrier (thank God the only injury was a not too terribly bad black eye) Tuesday morning. After I finished my hysterical screaming fit and he was checked by the doctor, it was clear that we needed some big boy things so a shopping we went...

We got a dandy shopping cart cover, a high chair, and a Musical Motion Activity Center.

Also, note to my MIL, I agree that it is important not to overly sterilize a child's environment. Some germs are good. Please note that we live in a house with hardwood floors and 2 indoor dogs and I have approximately 30 minutes a week to devote to any sort of floor care or dusting (the child better start napping well enough to let me sweep when he starts crawling or I will be forced to put booties on the dogs). The dishes get done, we don't live in filth, our underwear is clean but pristine this house most definitely is not. However, when Charlie has thrush and I have pink eye (a picture of health, our family) I get rather anal. There are some germs that just don't need to be coddled.

When Good Parents Go Bad

First, how much snot can one cute little nose make?

Second, it has become surprisingly clear that we live way more on the edge as parents than I had ever expected. About 3 weeks ago we decided to start trying to let Charlie sleep on his stomach. We were well aware of the SIDS risks but we also hadn't slept in 5 months. It seemed that finding some way to allow Charlie to get a healthy amount of sleep was increasingly important and we had tried EVERYTHING (save cry it out for a variety of reasons I don't want to go into). It also seemed that the likelyhood of Charlie suddenly managing a the depth of sleep required to cause a SIDS death was astoundingly faint. He has excellent head control and had already demonstrated a firm aversion to anything blocking his airway when he was cruelly attacked by a wayward blanket as a very wee infant when I brushed his cradle. Finally, if he didn't still need to be swaddled to sleep he could actually roll onto his tummy himself. Since we started this tummy sleep, his sleep has somewhat improved. He can now make it past the REM stage most of the time. He still often needs a bit of help to make it between 45 minute complete baby sleep cycles and vast amounts of butt patting are required to get him through the night but the rocker isn't needed very much. My husband and I are quite the rule followers. He thinks I'm living on the edge by driving 9 miles over the speed limit. We own all manner of anti-SIDS products- the breathable bumpers, the swaddle sacks, it's even why I am still supporting the use of a pacifier. I can't believe we finally went over to the tummy sleep side...

Smarts

Charlie was highly active as a fetus. I could count on him to do all manner of acrobatics and calisthenics between 4 and 6 am (which is still the time he has the most trouble sleeping). I never really needed to do a kick count. I felt blessed as I tend to be anxious and there is nothing as comforting to a pregnant woman as feeling her baby move about, not because all this activity would supposedly equal brilliance.

Charlie is now a highly active infant. He wants to bounce and mouth and flirt and interact. Sleep is elusive to him. Shutting out the highly exciting world is oh so hard. Through all of this activity, I have been told time and again how all of this means he is smart or gifted. He is building neurons, highly engaged, and gathering vast amounts of information. Somehow this smart thing is to be a panacea. I have to say that at this point, my husband and I would be delighted to have a slightly dim child if said child would only sleep.

My mother once told me that IQ means very little. What actually matters is what you do with the intelligence you have. This has been borne out to me so very many times it makes all the reassurances that Charlie is brilliant cold comfort at best. I want to raise a happy child, a fulfilled child, a child who can find a place to be himself. His innate intelligence doesn't have much bearing on any of that. I taught any number of children who wouldn't be classified as smart by even the most generous definition. I remember having a conversation with the school psychologist about one girl I worked with. She was such a sweet soul but would probably be just barely functional in reading and maybe functional in math. We speculated that she, like her mother, would be a wonderful mother. She would perhaps do some in-home day care and her husband would need to help her with the bills and such. She was shy but had a core group of friends. She was liked by her teachers and peers. She participated in rodeos and helped keep her siblings in line. In short, she was happy. She had a place that she belonged. She was as fulfilled as a 4th grader could be and would probably continue on that trajectory. Why does there have to be the implication in the world that just because she wasn't classified as smart or gifted, she isn't as valuable or happy or cherished? While some of the children I knew and know who are reportedly brilliant (and there are so very many that I rather wonder if it has any meaning anymore) are just as happy and fulfilled there are any number that are floundering under the weight of expectation.

This article casts an interesting light on all of the smart business. The basic gist is that it's better to praise children for working hard than being smart. There are apparently a number of parents that disagree with this and perhaps I will, in time, as well. But, I doubt it. When I taught I learned to praise effort as much as outcome. Trying again and again was key. As a person, I appreciate praise for what I actually control much more than what I was born with. After all, I have never been praised for being 5 foot 3 and I don't particularly think anyone else has either. It makes about as much sense to praise a child for being smart. This adds this subtle assumption that you either have it or you don't. It makes self-improvement and the acquisition of new skills moot.

I rather think that the next time someone reassures me of my child's brilliance I will have to respond with some witty comeback. Unfortunately, I don't seem to be smart enough to think of one...

The Mouths of Babes

Charlie, the inquisitive child that he is, would like to know the following:

1. Why we only have 1 mouth. This makes it impossible to both chew on a pacifier and stick all those fascinating objects in your mouth- using your hands to explore simply isn't adequate.

2. Why Mommy keeps handing him a teether instead of letting him gnaw to his heart's content on the remote.

3. How to actually swallow the banana instead of gooshing it out.

4. Why he must wear socks in winter when they interfere with his continuing quest to stuff his entire foot into his mouth.

Solids!

Charlie had some rice cereal to celebrate Valentine's Day and loved it! He fussed every time we had to take the spoon away to get more. He was adorable and will, perhaps, manage to sleep a bit.

A Walk On the Wild Side...

I have an unholy hankering to own this tank top...

I suspect it has the same psychological root as my desire to own this nail polish.

Let the reclaimation of my sense of self beyond devoted mother begin!

Don't Take the Baby's Side

So, I joined the La Leache League a few months ago. I like nursing, I needed to get out of the house, and it seemed like a good way to meet other people who would also eat blue potatoes. I generally like it pretty well. However, I have noticed that I always feel a little irked at some point in the meeting and I have finally figured out why.

The leaders always take the baby's side.

When one mother was discussing how she really didn't enjoy nursing at 2am, the leader's response was to enjoy that together time now and how you shouldn't worry about the clock and how you should give yourself permission to sleep at 2pm instead. All of these are wonderful sentiments but when it comes down to it, it really sucks to be awake at 2 am (and 1 am and 4 am) nursing. This response is fairly typical and somewhat problematic. Anne at Bun in the Oven, often references the LLL's purported painless nursing with a good latch. While that might be true after a few weeks, the first week or so will hurt.

Part of motherhood is knowing that sometimes it sucks and doing it anyway. At the same time, it's vital to feel like it's ok to think it sucks, that baby poop smells too, that there won't always be sunshine and daisies and that it isn't just that you need to adjust your attitude. The road to valium addiction is paved with a perpetually positive disposition. Sometimes you just have to take the mommy's side. It doesn't mean she'll abandon her baby or stop picking the baby up when he cries but she will know it's ok if she doesn't smile when the baby cries at 3am.

This I Know...

Charlie should take 2 naps of about 2 hours in length and 1 of 45 minutes in length. Over the last month I have rocked him through at least 50% of these. All of this trouble with getting him to sleep really has me doubting myself as a mother so, as an exercise, indulge me as I practicing saying this I know...

Charlie smiles a lot when he dreams.

When Charlie frowns in his dreams, a whisper from Mommy helps it go away.

I can now tell where Charlie is in his sleep cycle by how he is breathing.

The glider is key, closely followed by the butt pat.

Cloudy days are your friend.

Our driveway is the favorite spot for all trucks to turn around in and, for a private, gravel, dead end road, we get way more traffic than you would expect.

Beagles are great dogs for families with children but perhaps not the best choice for families with bad nappers.

Charlie likes The Beatles.

There is a vein that runs right down the middle of Charlie's skull.

Charlie likes to sleep on his stomach.

Charlie sleeps better in his crib than in a family bed although he might like a family hammock as rocking is his crack.

Sometimes God indulges desperate mothers and the baby will sleep through the dogs barking and the phone ringing. Of course, sometimes God doesn't...

The amount of time Charlie will sleep peacefully in my arms is directly proportional to how desperately I have to pee.

Let there be hope...

Adventures in sleep continue. There had been a glimmer of sunshine earlier this week and then he started teething... sigh. My husband keeps pointing out that someday Charlie will be a teenager and will be sleeping far more than we might like.

I have taken to watching those shows on Discovery Health about families with multiples. I keep thinking that if those couples with the 4 kids all at once now posses a clean house, presentable hair, and have regained the ability to compose complete and coherent sentences then, someday, surely I will too.

Bad Timing

I currently:

a- am recovering from mastitis (relatively mild but still a pain both figuratively and literally)

b- have a cold

c- may be experiencing the first tentative step toward a "return to my fertility"

Both a and c mess with my supply and b means I'm tired and cranky and just want to sleep for 4 hours at a stretch.

Guess when Charlie decided to start a new growth spurt...

I caught the mastitis really early so maybe I just have a skewed perspective but why do people keep asking me if I "nursed through it?" It seems like it would be really counter-productive to stop nursing- sort of like getting a cold and refusing to blow your nose.

Giggle

Charlie giggled!

Teaching My Baby to Dream

As you might be able to tell from my last post, we have been in the midst of a sleep extravaganza since about the first of the year. We had been giving Charlie until he was about 3 months old to really start to try to make a schedule (this may have been a mistake). He had been showing glimmers of sleeping if not well, then at least for several hours in a row at night and there had been a growing predictability to his days. Then there came teething and grandparent visits and unknown happenings in his little brain and the sleep became awful. I actually sobbed...twice...in one night. I had been quite pleased with the fact that I had escaped PPD until that night. Apparently my mood can withstand any amount of hormonal onslaught but visions of hourly wakings (followed by 45 minute stints in the rocker) for the foreseeable future is enough to totally send me 'round the bend.

We purchased both the No Cry Sleep Solution and The Baby Whisperer. Using a hybrid of the two we formulated a plan and began Operation Sandman. We realized that a large part of Charlie's problem was that he was completely sleep deprived. So, my mission during the day was to manage to get the child who generally took 3ish 35 minute naps a day to take 3 1.5-2 hour naps a day. This meant that I spent a lot of the first week staring at the walls in the nursery rocking and rocking. Eventually we moved to the futon mattress (my husband has been sleeping in the nursery). I could actually feel my brain atrophying. Charlie has now, finally, moved back into the crib although I spend about 30 minutes of every nap standing watch, patting and picking up as needed. The rest of the time I stay in the nursery, watching for unexpected events as I flip through the internet or read. It beats staring at the walls but the intensity is draining. It seems that Charlie needs to be taught how to progress through REM sleep and light sleep so that he can make it back into the deep sleep.

In short, my baby doesn't know how to dream.

Since my husband is taking the night shift, starting around 7:45, when Charlie is done nursing and keeps him until about 6am, I have him until then. It leaves me yearning to be not the mommy. By the third nap, which is often the most challenging, (mostly because he should probably really be having 2 2-3 hour naps and 1 quick one but 2-3 hours is a little beyond us at the moment) I am sometimes ready to weep. I spend a lot of time reminding myself that this too will pass. I try to remember when it felt like he would never stop eating. I know that if I can just stick this out that I will have so much time of my own- probably 4 hours a day and then 2-3 after he goes to bed but right now I am in the midst of it. 2 weeks ago he would not have stayed asleep for 2 hours no matter what you did. Now, it takes a lot of work but it happens. 2 weeks ago he was up at least once an hour at night and now he can go at least 2 and often more. 2 weeks ago Charlie would only fall asleep in the car after crying and crying- tonight he did it with no fuss and in less than 5 minutes. So, there is progress but we are growing impatient.

It is becoming increasingly vital to my sanity that I do things to preserve me. My shower is a shining star in my day. I always put on something that smells nice. I have a growing fascination with nail polish and am wearing lipstick every day. Today I got in the car without my baby or my husband to go shopping for face cleanser and I cried from the sheer wonder of doing something for myself, by myself. This child has to learn to dream and soon because his mother already knows how. I need those 4 hours a day.

From Charlie...

Charlie asked me to pass along the following information.

Greetings to all other infants in blogland!

I have been conducting extensive research over the last few weeks on methods to convince your mommy you don't need a nap as we all know that all the very best stuff happens while we are sleeping- I have heard rumors of a thing called "laundry," it is sure to be fascinating.

The following strategies have failed thus far...

1. Bellowing like a wounded moose

2. Bellowing like a wounded moose in heat

3. Bellowing like a wounded moose in heat while frantically flailing your arms and arching your back.

4. Burrowing your face into mommy's shoulder while frantically clawing at her chest, bellowing like a wounded moose in heat, arching your back, and kicking your legs.

Mommies are also very uncooperative! I have often tried doing all of the previous with my eyes shut as a sort of compromise. This is met with a snort of derision- where is the love? I have tried raising my eyebrows as high as possible to fend off the shutting of the eyes but this is of limited success.

Please notify me soonest when you find a functional strategy for convincing mommy you don't need a nap or if you find out what this fabulous laundry thing is.

Regards,

Charlie

Teething

Charlie would like to say that teeth are obviously the work of the devil and he would like to stick with the milk meal plan indefinately.

Y'all...

I read the mommy blogs. I worked child care. I watched Desperate Housewives. I knew about the never peeing alone, going a couple of days without showers, that I would have extensive conversations about my child's poop. However, y'all totally left out some stuff. In the future please be sure to point out the following to the unsuspecting:

1- Finding time to poop will be a challenge. The liberty to poop at will will become a major selling point for going back to work. (unless you are a teacher and you long ago abandoned all hope of ever meeting your personal needs in a timely manner)

2- Eating lunch will be an accomplishment. Eating a lunch which requires utensils will bring a sense of accomplishment equal only to finally getting to poop.

3- The pregnancy books were not actually kidding about belly button pain.

4- You will realize that you really should have put on socks at 9 am. You will finally manage to put on the socks (after earnest effort) at 3 pm.

5- It will take you 3 months to figure out that Carter's size names go completely contrary to your assumptions and that the 3 month size is for babies up to 3 months as opposed to the Gerber stuff which is meant for babies 3-6 months old. Gnashing of teeth will occur.

6- Ugly baby clothes exist. You will receive ugly baby clothing from people who insist on pictures of the baby in it and who have never been introduced to gift receipts. Said clothing will freakishly be both cheap looking and astoundingly indestructible at the same time while fitting for eons.

The Mommy Moment

I have a friend who is encroaching on the marriage issue which, of course, calls for me to give her wedding advice. I have offered up a few tidbits. First, the wedding is not really for you. It's for your family. Your opinion will only marginally matter. With that in mind... pick one thing about the wedding you really care about to get your way on. For me it was the dress. Finally, everyone has one moment that truly makes you feel you're married. For me it was the lifting of the veil by my husband followed by the kiss. For others it might be the first dance or the exchange of the rings. Whatever it is, identify it and be sure it makes it into the day.

That same defining moment exists for me as a Mother as well. When Charlie is first waking up from his nap (which he will only consent to have while being held- an improvement from last week when there could be no sleeping ever again for fear he would miss something good) or when the has seen his fill or when he has finished a wiggling extravaganza he will retreat into me. His little body nestles against my arm and chest and his soft cheek rests against my shoulder. He blinks and looks around slowly sometimes simply staring at my shirt. It is a moment where he needs me to offer security and quiet. More importantly, it is a time that he has decided he needs me. It isn't blind instinct, hunger, or reflex that gives him that quiet moment. I am not deciding what he needs because he is unable. In those moments of stillness he is asking and I am giving. There are no thoughts of doubt, no wishes to be doing something else, no wondering if I might get a nap. There is me and my little boy and the knowledge that this shoulder will be his for as long as he may need it. It is in that moment that I am Mommy.