(Worry) Warts and All

I haven't posted anything of SUBSTANCE lately. Weekend activities and remodeling and photos aren't exactly deep subjects, I know. But they are EASY. I don't have to think about what to share, or struggle with wording. Some bloggers, they have this wonderful ability to capture the essence of life (the good and the bad) so perfectly with their words - it can be a bit daunting.

But I don't want to just share glossy events and photos that only scratch at the surface here; I want this site to reflect our lives. So fuck the intimidation of "writing" life - here are some of my thoughts on how things are going lately.

1. Finn. I worry about this kid EVERY DAY. I worry he isn't fitting in at school. He comes home with all these stories about how the other kids won't throw him the football when he plays with them, that his "best friend" from his class didn't pick him for something special, that our neighbor won't play with him, that other kids won't play with him... just about every day there is a new frustration for him to share. This extends beyond the social realm, to just about EVERYTHING - every time I ask Finn about how his day went, he has a complaint for me. He didn't get to play on the big playground today. He didn't get a chance to use the computers today. He was sad when M. dropped him off in the morning. He wanted to tie-dye a T-shirt at the after school care program but couldn't because Gah, Mom, YOU DIDN'T SEND IN A SHIRT FOR ME. This kid never has anything positive to say, EVER. And he can't be THAT unhappy - he isn't trying to convince me he needs to stay home from school, he's not acting depressed or really any differently than usual. He is just SUCH a complainer. I worry he is destined to be unhappy, because he WANTS to be unhappy. How do you teach a kid to focus on the good stuff in life, rather than the bad? Is this something he has learned from me?

On top of that, I worry that he isn't paying attention at school. Well, I KNOW he isn't paying attention that well at school, so mostly I worry about whether he ever WILL pay attention, or whether he has a lifetime of bad behavior reports coming his way. According to Finn's teacher he "needs a lot of redirection," and "sometimes Finn just does what Finn wants to do." SHE's not concerned, but I AM. She thinks he is just bored because they spend a lot of time setting the stage and reiterating rules at the beginning of the year, and that it will get better for him as things get more challenging. And he TELLS me that he thinks everything is boring, so maybe there's some truth to that. But I know him - there have always been things that interest him, and he pays attention/does what he's told because he WANTS to. And there are other things that interest him less, or times when he thinks he has a better idea of what to do. And that's when he does whatever he damn well pleases. And I don't think that is going to change (maybe ever? I write despairingly?). There will always be things that he doesn't want to do, or things that he REALLY wants to do even though he SHOULDN'T, and good luck to the grown-up that tries to get him to tow the line. It just doesn't happen. My child appears to be missing that "fear of authority/respect for people in positions of authority" character trait. There are other kids who have never gotten worse than a "green" on the behavior chart, or easily win a blue every day (this Kindergarten follows a blue-green-yellow-red behavior rating system, where blue is akin to "exceeded expectations", green is "good", yellow is "warning", and red is... I don't know what, but something bad). My kid has had a red, two yellows, and just one green this week alone (so far).

He probably will never be the child that gets a "blue" every day. And I think the problem is that I WANT him to be the child that gets a blue every day. I see it as a flaw that he can't. And that bothers me. Who wants to think of their child as flawed? Or unfixable?

Or maybe he doesn't need to be fixed, and this is all "normal." And I just worry too much.

But at least now you know what I'm worrying about.

2. Lucy. I don't have any worries about Lucy. She occasionally throws a fit, but is generally easily distracted from it. Her most annoying traits are: A. a reluctance to let me brush her hair, and B. her insistence that she wear "swirly" dresses and skirts every day (a "swirly" dress will billow out when she spins around). Which eliminates most of her adorable, fashionable wardrobe. She is three, but a fairly mild three.

Though sometimes I worry that she's getting the short end of the stick, because her brother ends up grabbing more of my mental attention (though not physical - I do still spend more time with her, because she still has some "Mommy" preferences).

3. Siblings. Another thing I don't have to worry about. My kids generally get along (with minor squabbles), and genuinely seem to enjoy each other's company. So much so that they have devised a plan to marry each other when they are older. It involves a mythical situation where Lucy will be in a line of girls looking to get married (at the mall, of course), and Finn is there, and secretly they will have arranged that Finn will pick HER for his bride. Because bachelorettes often line up at the mall and wait for potential suitors to propose, right? But SHHH, this is a secret plan, don't tell Finn and Lucy I told you.

We've gently tried explaining that brothers and sisters can't marry each other, but it hasn't gone over terribly well. We'll wait until their a bit older to tell them about the mal effects of inbreeding in genetic terms.

4. Fitness. Blah. This I worry about. I am not happy with either my fitness (as in, it is quite poor these days) or my weight. It is affecting some of my general happiness/positive outlook, and probably making me over-react in other areas of life (see: Finn, above). I'm bored with running, and haven't been doing it, but still eating like I am. It hasn't been good for the waistline. And I hate that it bothers me, but it does. So.

Hmmm. Pretty sure Finn comes by all his complaining honestly.

I'm just going to end it there, so I can spend a few moments focusing my attention on my beleaguered husband, who has to put up with all my worrying, which he does WELL.

First Day of School, Part I

The Proud Kindergartener

And his equally excited sister, marking the day in style

 

Finn won't be riding the bus, so no "getting on the bus" photo for us. You'll have to settle for a side view of his new backpack (which apparently was a hot commodity at Target this year, as at least a couple other kids have the same one. Wonder how many times Finn will accidentally come home with the wrong one...)

So, the first day of school is over. I am exhausted  and stressed out and feeling more than a little frazzled (what, this isn't all about ME?) - I'm hoping this gets easier as we settle in to a new normal. I think a lot of my reaction is due to an unrelenting, high pressure workload lately, and my own sense of mom guilt (YOU GUYS. Dropping Finn off at his new before-school program was THE HARDEST THING.). But Finn, he seems to be doing pretty well. He was a little uncertain as we approached the school (he admitted he was "a little scared"), and he asked us if we could stay with him at the before-school program. He didn't cry when we left, though, and the information we've been able to drag out of him has been mainly positive. Except for the one kid that apparently called him "weird" during the practice fire drill his class had today. Why one kindergartener would feel the need to call another kindergartener he had just met "weird" is a mystery to me. But Finn can't even remember if he said anything back in response, so hopefully this was a mere blip that didn't bother him too much. Well, other than the fact that it bothered him enough to tell me as we were walking out of the school this afternoon. And that he made sure I mentioned it to my mom when she called to see how Finn's day had gone.

It's good Finn knows nobody's name yet, or else this child would have just made a Momemy (Mom Enemy - do you think that might catch on?) for life. Weird. I'll show YOU weird, you MEANIE.

But really, mostly a good report. Now I have to go take myself off and sign paperwork and fill out emergency contact information in triplicate (I could expound on the torture that is filling out emergency contact information when one lives far away from EVERYONE, but I won't). And drink this glass of wine next to me.

I Never Use All the Space in the Bed, Anyway

The last couple of weeks have involved lots of work travel and all-day meetings/conferences. It has been exhausting, and I am missing the “normal routine” badly. I’m not spending ZERO time with M. and the kids, but it has been abbreviated, and the feeling of upcoming work obligations always makes that time seem even more rushed/less relaxing.

Of course, not every aspect of work travel is unpleasant. I commuted into Washington, D.C. two days last week, and it was kind of fun to get swept up with the rest of the masses riding the Metro, pounding the sidewalks, and in general moving with purpose. No one walks slowly in D.C.! My new Kindle (and the engrossing book State of Wonder) definitely helped pass the time during the lengthy Metro ride. Food I don’t cook myself, conversations with new and familiar-but-rarely-seen faces, (for last night and tonight) a big hotel bed all to myself... there are some bonuses to work travel. But I never sleep as well – I imagine that, even though M. told me that Lucy woke up 3 or 4 times last night, I probably would have had a more restful night of sleep had I been in my less-than-crisp, crowded bed at home. And I miss my family.

A few observations from the last few days -

1) There is nothing like an alarm malfunction to allow for speed records to be set in the sport of “getting ready.” Last Thursday I was supposed to wake up at 5 am and leave my house by 5:30 to begin the long trek into D.C. (for a meeting that was beginning at 7 am). My alarm did go off at 5, but without any volume at all. It was apparently caught between radio stations, or some such nonsense. Fortunately, an act of God made M. look at the clock at 5:34 am, and he woke me up. I was out the door 15 minutes later, and only 5 minutes late to my meeting. Why is this kind of speed not possible on a normal day?

Panic + no kids + showering the night before + advance outfit planning = 15 minutes

On a typical day, that equation looks more like:

No early morning meeting + snooze button X 2 + shower + clothing deliberation + rousing the kids X 12 (because this step is really hard) + making kids use potty + dressing kids + forcing kids to brush teeth + brushing Lucy's hair X 46 (really, really hard) + shoes, coats, hats, mittens for all / the inverse of all the bags that need to get carried out to the car = 5 thousand years

Addended to add that I at least matched my "getting ready" record this evening - I arranged to meet work friends for dinner at 6:30 tonight, and decided to work out on one of the hotel treadmills beforehand. And by beforehand, I mean 5:40-ish. Foolish? Perhaps. But I was determined to get in a workout. I made it back to my room at 6:21, showered, dressed, and even put on some make up, and was out the door to meet them by 6:34. So apparently the appeal of dining kid-free with friends and the promise of wine is also quite motivating for me.

2) Surgeons start meetings WAY too early. A 7 am meeting in D.C.? Cah-razy!

3) I am currently attending a two-and-a-half day meeting where many different scientific and medical professional come together in an expert capacity. Representing their fields, their institutions, etc. Last night was the formal "kick off" dinner, though formal can mean many different things within the science crowd. I accept this, I know this, I understand that I will see more than one pair of jeans. And yet. I was more than a little surprised to see a woman wearing slippers.

Time to get back to my clearly-not-High-Def viewing of House Hunters, and the glass of chardonnay keeping me company. One more day to go, and then I'm back to all the wonderful comforts and discomforts of home!

The Upswing

YOU GUYS.

Things have been good. Very good. Is this a taste of what FIVE is like? Because Finn? Is being a rock star at school lately. And an adorable, can't-hug-him-enough, hysterical cutie pie at home.

OK, so it's not perfect. He doesn't listen ALL the time, he still cries and has emotional little fits every now and then, and he still takes FOREVER to get into his pajamas at night.

But it has been so, so much better. So much better. This summer, M. and I were really at our wits end with Finn. He was causing trouble at school, making us feel like miserable parents, and basically sucking most of the joy out of all aspects of life. Not to be dramatic or anything. I was worried we were doing him a huge disservice by having him in daycare, by parenting him (if what we were doing could be called parenting), by in general, frankly, failing him.

In the last few weeks, though, things have magically turned around. Finn is listening well at school, he's getting those coveted "green cards" (all five days last week!), and he's been much more engaging at home. And the thing is, we're not doing ANYTHING differently.

Which really just hits home that the crappiness that is age 3 and 4 has absolutely NOTHING to do with whether you are a good parent or a bad parent, and EVERYTHING to do with the natural course of development. My take home message is that when kids are 3-4 years old, parents should just focus on providing basic necessities (food, clothes, a place to sleep, a routine) and trying (TRYING) not to lose their shit every day. Anything more is apparently not going to matter anyway, so don't beat yourself up if/when the "more" just doesn't happen.

Now that I've written this, I'm going to go hide somewhere and take cover for the shit storm of parenting woes that will now, karmalike, befall me. But I felt like I had to put this out there, karma be damned, because I have written about the negative, and I want to document the positive, too.

I think a big part of Finn's improved behavior recently has been the return of the "school" curriculum to daycare. This past summer, his main teacher (the one that does the lesson planning) was out of the country helping family. There was no homework, a parade of teachers, and very little structure. Lots of playtime, but not much learning and routine. An unstructured environment for the summer is GREAT if you're 10, but I think not so awesome for a 4-year-old. Finn's teacher is now back, though, and lessons are in full swing. Last week was dinosaur week, something Finn knows a LOT about - he was completely in his element telling his classmates everything he knew, and it made for a really great week, likely because he was very interested in all the lessons.

I just hope that interest continues. My biggest concern with Finn was that, as an October baby, he'd be bored out of his mind spending another year in the same classroom, going through the same themes, and learning the same lessons from last year. So far, though, his teachers have been pushing him - he's learning lots of sight words, working on addition, and practicing writing short sentences. They've been great about working two curricula - one for the kids who recently started in the classroom (reviewing their upper and lower case letters), and a more advanced one for kids like Finn that are on their second time through. He's even napping most days, which might be the best indication of how challenged he is - it's exhausting him.

Now I can switch my worry to whether Finn will be bored once he gets to Kindergarten, instead. During our parent-teacher conference last week, the school director made some comments to us about how she couldn't believe that we didn't try to get Finn into Kindergarten this year. It's not the first time she has said this to me. She thinks he would have had no problem testing into Kindergarten despite the fact the he missed the cutoff date by almost 2 months - in terms of academic ability/knowledge, she feels that he was ready to go. It's a little hard to take, because, a) it makes me feel like we slacked on our job of doing our best for our kids, since we didn't even CONSIDER sending Finn to Kindergarten early. Maybe it would have been better to send him this year! And now it's too late; and b) my entire life I've heard that boys mature slower than girls. EVERYONE has always said that boys benefit from a little more time before starting school. And the way Finn was behaving over the last several months, I saw no reason to disagree with that. My son, spend 6 hours in a classroom doing schoolwork every day? No way. But now it kind of feels like he could have handled it, and I've read a little bit of research that shows that putting kids in school early can actually benefit them. Not a lot of research, but still a bit of a sucker punch to the gut, since it's all new information to me.

I think it probably would suck to put Finn in a situation where he is destined to always be the youngest kid in his class, and I don't really regret not trying to send him to Kindergarten. I guess I'm just pissed that this is one more way where parents can be made to feel like failures. Is it REALLY so awful that we just simply followed the rules, the rules that said that if your kid isn't 5 by September 1st, he can't go to Kindergarten? Isn't it a rule for a REASON?

OK, vent over, this post is about WONDERFUL FINN. Who is celebrating a birthday this very week. And I love him VERY, ACHINGLY, MUCH. He is charming.

Here are a couple of videos of the kids having a dance party. Lucy has made up her own strange dance that involves swinging her arms one at a time over her head. We all imitate it, it is adorable and fun. But you don't get videos of M. and I imitating it, just the kids. Enjoy!

Lucy's funny dance (and Finn's seizure-like take on it):



Coming to a discoteque near you:



Some inappropriate butt-drumming:



Bonus video - Finn cracking himself up with some rogue Humpty Dumpty lyrics:

So Four is Not the Age When the Ability to Understand Sarcasm is Developed

I made Finn cry yesterday. Like, heaving sobs.

It went down like this. There were shenanigans of the super annoying type going on, from both kids. The likes of which I probably don't really have to describe, as I'm sure anyone who has ever spent time with young children is fairly familiar with things like: "I hate grocery shopping! I won't get my shoes on! I won't walk toward the front door and the waiting car, I'll instead throw this toy around dangerously and pretend like I can't hear you! Oh, we're in the car and on our way to the store? Well, I'm thirsty! I need water! Now!"

Not direct quotes, PER SE, but you get the gist. It was, suffice it to say, SUPER annoying and frustrating. M. and I were both giving as much crab as we got, to convey said annoyance and frustration. In the process I told the kids (and this is a direct quote), "I give up. We're giving you back. We're not going to be your parents anymore."

The irony (?)(not entirely sure I can correctly identify all instances of irony, even at the advanced age of 34) is that we CAN'T give them back. I don't think my uterus would be very happy about that, among other reasons. We made 'em, we're stuck with 'em.

M. shared a look with me that was along the lines of "Word." Lucy continued to demand water from the backseat, oblivious. But Finn, well, he took this QUITE seriously. I heard some sniffles, looked behind me, and saw his face crumple in despair. Big fat tears started rolling down his face, and in no time at all he was sobbing. He doesn't WANT us to not be his parents anymore. He doesn't WANT someone else to be his parents. We are so MEAN. Why would we say something so MEAN to him?

I felt immediate remorse, of course. Finn "cries" occasionally - the kind of crying that is more for show because he's not getting something he wants, like a toy or TV privileges. It's quite loud, but short lived and tearless. I can tell he has complete control over it and doesn't really "mean" it. But this was different. He was truly upset. I guess because he really loves us or something.

We stopped at Starbucks and bought him some damn water. And chocolate milk.

About Friends

OK, so by now it may be evident that I create a bit of mental anxiety (guilt?) for myself as far as my kids go. I'm not exactly an easy going mom. I worry about their diets, their daycare, their sleep habits, their bathroom habits, whether they see their parents enough, whether they watch too much TV, whether I'm a crappy mom for yelling at them (in my mind) constantly. Whether I am circling anywhere within a 12-mile radius of what might be called "good parenting" and "raising upstanding citizens."

Yes, I do worry about all of those things. Though definitely NOT all at once. I am able to live with myself and function at a somewhat high level, after all.

My guilt/anxiety/worry/whatever you want to call it all really boils down to how well my efforts now will prepare my kids for the morass that is high school (and let's be honest, in this day and age, probably middle school, too), and all the peer pressures and temptations and different ways that LIFE could go horribly, horribly wrong for them (have I ever mentioned how the A&E show "Intervention" is my worst parenting nightmare come to life?? For real. And there's so, so much more than drug addiction to worry about out there!).

But to be honest, my job as a parent is only part of the influence. I think M. and I do a descent job making the kids feel loved, giving them some consequences, helping them be clothed and fed and generally secure (but not too secure). That really is the bulk of a parent's job, right? All the other tactics (Tiger Mom? Lots of praise? Only earned praise? Giving choices? Restricting choices? Homeschooling? Private schooling? Public schooling? Exclusive breastfeeding? Cloth diapering? etc) that one might read about and do or not do or not do and criticize others for doing is all just... extra stuff. Maybe it's important, maybe it's not. But it's extra, in my book, as long as we're doing those parts about love and consequences and food/clothing and security.

I have (for the most part) control over my interactions with my kids. They aren't always what I think of as "ideal," but I do have control there. What I won't have control over is my kids' interactions with their friends. And that is another whole sphere of influence that will help shape who my kids become.

The right friend(s) can mean the difference between good grades and bad. Between learning to say no (to sex, to drugs, to whatever you aren't quite ready for) and getting in over your head. Between happiness and self esteem, and depression. Maybe not for all, but for many. I have always been one to succumb to peer pressure (good god, I only started this blog because my sister had one! Although perhaps that could also be the competitive gene kicking in...), and I credit the straight-laced group of friends that I had all throughout public school (and my sisters!!) for my lack of bad behavior.

So, how do I help my kids choose the right friends?

Since my children may not count my advice for much when they are older and it is most pertinent, I'll put down a few suggestions for posterity's sake here.

A good friend is always supportive, even when they are jealous.

A good friend will not talk shit about other friends. If your friend talks shit about mutual friends, run, don't walk, away. Because they're probably doing the same thing about you behind your back.

A good friend has ambition. That ambition should include scholastic or vocational achievement of some sort. It should not be solely focused on dating or partying or achieving clear skin (though such things do have a place, to a degree).

A good friend should like to read, at least a little.

A good friend is one with a curfew.

A good friend wants success for you.

A good friend will hold your hair while you puke, and take you out for coffee in the morning. Please note that I'd prefer this only be exercised in college, however.

A good friend will always like whoever you are dating, even when they really don't. You can find out the crappy stuff on your own, and then a good friend will provide a very nice shoulder to cry on.

A good friend is one you are comfortable with, even after years apart and far too sporadic e-mails and phone calls. And by "comfortable", I mean able to discuss sex, poop, relationships, hopes, fears, mucuous plugs... you know, ANYTHING.

I have good friends. Some I have known forever, some are a bit newer. For all of them, I don't see them enough. But I love them, and I know they have my back.


The luck of dorm assignment in college brought me to this lovely lady. We share a name, a sense of humor, and much more.


And this one. Jennifer. Oh! The laughs we have shared. And frankly, a lot of tears. The good ones and the bad ones. The William and Mary housing system must have had some sort of Match.com beta system when they picked roommates my year. I was so, so fortunate.


Margo and I were each charmed by fellows from Ladysmith, Wisconsin, and managed to find each other out here on the East Coast as a result. She is nice and lovely and funny and the best wine drinking buddy EVER. And she is leaving me to move to Minnesota. I am sad.


Stacey, Kristin, Natalie, Helen, Me. Two I have known since birth, and the other two for almost just as long. We are ALL like sisters.


I must share more photos from our girls' weekend of revelry. And all of those caveats about picking up where we left off? Completely true.


Though I don't think there was any hair-holding, and we were all able to eat breakfast (at least the second morning).


And I definitely consider my sisters to be my friends. Best friends, really.

I have more good friends, but not many more. Good friends are hard to come by, and I cherish mine.

I hope Finn and Lucy find the same.

And I hope they consider each other as good friends, if not always, then eventually.

What signs of a good friend would you add to this list?

Parenting Milestone

Today marked a milestone in parenting for me. It was not a good milestone.

I picked up Finn and Lucy right around 5 pm from daycare today. All was well, and the kids were being extra cute. Finn, in particular, was wearing his camo winter hat and dancing out of his classroom to a strange recording of a Pink song sung by kids. Totally adorable. We got to the car, and as I was buckling Finn in to his carseat, he notices a two-week old goldfish on the seat next to Lucy and asked to eat it. I said no (see: two-weeks old, above) and tossed it on the ground (you know, for the squirrels...). And suddenly, Finn went batshit insane. Screaming, crying, kicking my seat, and lacking utter reason.

I knew from previous experience that he can, and likely would, continue this screaming at the top of his lungs the. whole. way. home. And frankly, I couldn't take it. I'm tired of not knowing what will set him off, what will change him from a perfectly pleasant person to an insaniac. I wanted a peaceful ride home, a chance to listen to MIX 107.3's Chili Amarr's Late Breaking Show Biz Headlines. I wanted QUIET.

I'm not proud of what occurred next, though I do feel justified. I slammed on my brakes, yelled at Finn to shut up, used the "S" word. All of which I have probably done separately in the past (except the slamming on the breaks part, I think that was new).

And then, I did it. I threatened to kick Finn out of the car. I even went so far as to drive across the street to a quiet side neighborhood, pull over, and get out of the car. Ostensibly to unbuckle Finn and make him start walking.

My mother used this tactic quite frequently. She even actually followed through a number of times. I remember in particular one day where she made us get out of the car as she was driving us to Sunday School. In that case the plan backfired, as we started to walk home instead of onward to church (which I'm sure was a large part of the original argument).

This is yet another parenting technique I swore I would not use. Oh how the mighty crumble.

But you know what? It worked.

I'm not really sure where this post is going, but it clearly suggests I was Catholic in another life

My patience has been far too short lately. Is this what it's always like, raising an almost-four-year-old? When does the LISTENING start? When will my child actually take in something I say, think about it, and do what I FRACKIN' WANT HIM TO DO?!?!? I know, I know, it's the age. But it's not just the age, it's my reaction to this age's quirks and foibles and DIFFICULTIES. I yell. I pout and hold grudges. I even (and oh, I hate to admit this) spank on occasion. I do not BELIEVE in spanking. I think hitting your child (and oh yes, spanking is a type of hitting) only teaches THEM to hit. Not exactly what I want to encourage, you know? But yet, I have been so at my wits end that I HAVE DONE IT.

And I hate all of it. The yelling, the frustration, the repeating myself 15 times, the threats... the spanking.

I need a fresh start, a new approach. I need something more than "offer him choices" and "Have you read 1-2-3 Magic?" (Yes, I HAVE).

Tonight was a typical night, where trouble came from many minor areas that all served to push my mildly frustrated mood into a simmering, pouty, doom-and-gloom mood. Lucy was crying when I arrived to pick her up from daycare, and her teacher gave me the stink eye about her runny nose and cough. Finn was irate when I offered him yogurt-covered cranberries and chocolate-covered raisins as a snack, because WHERE ARE THE YOGURT-COVERED RAISINS? Lucy threw food during dinner, and Finn pulled a post-bedtime story poop fake-out to prolong his bedtime. Nothing out of the ordinary, but yet I couldn't help feeling inappropriately terrible.

As I picked up the house with M. (cleaning lady comes tomorrow), my simmering and seething began to focus on daycare. And I realized (tonight, at least) that it's not really the kids that were driving me crazy. It's my feeling (again) that we may not have them at the right daycare. The school is having a few staff changes - one teacher leaving, a shuffle to accommodate - and... I'm just not sure. I'm not sure I like the arrangements. I'm not sure these people are really qualified. And even if they are, I'm not sure I like that I'm even questioning whether they are qualified.

I plan to ask questions. I hope I like the answers, because there are many things I DO like about our daycare. But I'm getting tired of not feeling sure. Of feeling guilty.

As I thought even more about this though, I came to a second realization - that maybe guilt is the real culprit of my awful, no good, terrible evening. It's not the kids (even though it is), and it's not daycare (even though it is that, too). Mostly, I think my bad mood is coming from a conversation I had at work today. And the more I think about it, the more I have trouble believing that it actually occurred.

I was speaking to a group of women at work, all of us with kids of varying ages - some grown and struggling to find their way post-college, some starting grade school, and me with my little ones in daycare. The conversation was pleasant and nice and relatable and all the things you might think such a conversation would be among friendly women who get along. Then one woman told me a story that took me aback. She is recently back to work after taking several years off to raise her children. Her youngest child just started kindergarten last week, but she herself started back to work about 6 months ago. So during the late spring and summer, this woman enrolled her child in a preschool/daycare until kindergarten began. And one day, when she pulled up to daycare in her car, her daughter saw a baby being taken in to the school. She asked her mom what a baby was doing going to a preschool, and her mom told her that some women go back to work right after having a baby, and the daycare takes care of the babies for the mommies during the day. And her daughter replied, "Oh mommy, I'm so GLAD you stayed home with me, thank you!"

Now, I'm not begrudging this woman the appreciation she must have felt when her daughter said this. I'm sure it was very heartwarming for her. But this struck me as a very insensitive story to tell someone who did NOT stay home with her babies, who in fact still considers her children (or at least one of them) to be babies and IS NOT home with them. I have to admit, I felt a bit judged. OK, more than a bit judged, if I'm being honest; it stung.

Maybe I'm overly sensitive to this, as my mom stayed home with me, and M.'s mom stayed home with him. I feel like I SHOULD be with my kids, even if I CAN'T be with them, and to be honest, am not really sure I WANT to be with them all day.

So I obsess, and wonder constantly if I'm doing the right thing - pay the mortgage, or stay home with the kids? Buy stuff, or stay home with the kids? Clearly, for now, I've chosen to buy stuff and pay the mortgage. But then I wonder constantly about the care they get during those long, long days at daycare - at the quality of their stand-in mommies. And even though I yell and scold and threaten and even, occasionally, spank, I just can't convince myself that they measure up to ME.

Blah, blah... Sorry for the overly long, downer post. Quick, let me distract you with pictures of my adorable children (and husband)!

Ha! Only an hour and a half, now

Editing a 15-page IADSR (50 points to whoever can figure out THAT government acronym) is not exactly taking my mind of my hunger, which was NOT satisfied by the 270 calorie Healthy Choice microwave meal I recently fed it. I need to stop thinking about how a farewell ice cream party (not saying goodbye to ice cream, just a co-worker moving on to a new job) is an excruciating TWO HOURS AWAY. Oh, I bet there will be chocolate! And whipped cream! And chocolate! Clearly this is torture, I'm way too hungry. But if I eat something now, I shall perhaps ruin my chances at a guilt-free ice cream gorging in two hours. So instead, I shall take a moment to distract myself by rambling on about parenting stuff.

First up: This morning, in the car, I asked Finn to be nicer to his Daddy. It's something I commonly do, because Finn is often quite mean to M., particularly in the mornings. If M. is the one to go into Finn's room to get him up once the cries of "I'm awake! I'm awake" echo over the monitor, it's as awful as if someone had taken his favorite blankie and pooped on it. No, he doesn't want Daddy, Daddy has to go away, he wants Mommy! Mommy! Time to get dressed? God forbid it be Daddy who helps him out of his PJs and oversees clothing selection. Must be Mommy!!! Seriously, he really puts M. through the ringer sometimes.

I don't take this to mean much, as M. and Finn have lots and lots of fun together, and I know Finn loves his Daddy. Also, it's pretty common for Finn to start whining that he WANTS HIS DADA! whenever I do anything he doesn't like. Which is quite often, especially as I try to get the kids inside and get dinner started once we all come home from work/school. Oh, you won't let me play outside? I want my dada! Oh, you won't let me turn on the TV until I use the potty? When is my dada coming home?!! Oh, you won't give me ice cream as a before-dinner snack? Damn it, lady, where is my DADDY!?!?!?! (Not that M. would give in to these things, but I guess Finn likes to forget that in the heat of the moment.)

Anywho, this was one of those mornings where M. could do no right where Finn was concerned. So I gently admonished him to be nicer to his father as I drove him and his sister to daycare. And I asked Finn, "Don't you love your Daddy?" His response: "Yes, I do... but Mommy, I just love you the best!"

Oh, snap! He loves me the best! There it is, he said it out loud. OK, so raising a Momma's boy is not really on my agenda, but I reveled in that statement for at least half a second before I said something along the lines of, "Now Finn, your Mommy and Daddy both love you very much. You should really love both of us just as much. It's OK if you like Mommy to do certain things for you, but you love your Daddy and you need to be nicer to him." And then the conversation turned to some construction trucks we were passing, and that was that.

I swear I'm not going to be "That Mother" or "That Mother-In-Law," - you know, the one who controls her son and drives her son's spouse batshit crazy - but I must say, my heart is secretly pleased (I guess not much of a secret anymore) that at least for right now, Finn loves me better than M. I'm sure I'll get mine one of these days, right? Might as well enjoy it while I can...

Next parenting thing: Threats. Especially empty, meaningless threats. Why do I make them? I know I should not. I don't WANT to say all the same things to my kids that my mother once said to me, but it's like they just... slip out. I have no control over it. I always hated the way my mom would hold every fun thing I had to look forward to over my head. Invited to a sleepover? Better clean your room or you're not going! Etc. In all honesty, I gave my mom a lot of shit over the years, and I completely deserved any threatened or actual punishments I received. But it still didn't stop me from hating that she did that. Well, here I am with my own kids, and I'm repeating the pattern. Finn had his first field trip of the summer yesterday - an outing to Romp n Roll (kind of a My Gym-type place). And what did I do? Use it as incentive to get him to do things. Things he should be doing anyway but was refusing to do (picking up his toys, brushing his teeth, etc). Which is just ridiculous, because at no point in time would I actually consider NOT letting him go on the field trip. Refusing to let him go would mean he'd have to stay behind at school, in a different classroom, while all his friends left on the bus. Or that I'd have to stay home from work to take care of him. Neither of those scenarios were ever going to play out, and yet. I made the threat, more than once. Parent of the year, right here. It's like it is the easy way out, and I keep taking it, rather than coming up with more effective ways to parent my kids. One of these days, Finn's going to start calling me on my bluffs. And then I'm screwed.

Final parenting thing: Erm, don't really have another thing. Guess I should have made the second "thing" the final "thing." Enjoy your weekend!

Maybe I should strike while the iron is hot, and switch to a career in lobbying?

I alluded to a few concerns we've been having with our daycare in my post last week. Some are minor and fixable - a forgotten phone call when Finn got a bump on his face (Maryland regulations require a phone call to the parents whenever an injury above the sholders is received), some poor communication about supplies to bring in for the kids, etc. We've talked to the daycare director about some of those things, and policies have been reiterated to all the involved people to make sure everyone is on the same page once again.

Other concerns are not so fixable, like teachers that don't communicate well about my children's day. Often it's a language barrier, where English is not a teacher's first language. I love that my children are surrounded by people (adults and kids) of different races and cultures at this daycare, but it can be an issue where I have trouble finding out what Finn or Lucy did during the day. I also worry about the kids developing good language skills - enunciation, grammar, vocabulary, etc. This is not really a fixable issue, though - unless I have a serious complaint about a teacher, I can't really recommend any staff changes.

I also recognize that every daycare center is going to have a few flaws. There is no one center that is perfect in every way. Because of this, disrupting the kids and pulling them out to send them to a new daycare is not necessarily the right thing to do here. It would cause a lot of angst and upheaval, especially for Finn, who is fast friends with all of his classmates. And we could find ourselves right back in a similar situation at a new center, discovering a little too late some of the flaws we didn't notice before enrolling the kids.

I think the better thing to do is take some of the responsibility onto our own shoulders to make sure Finn and Lucy get the most that they can out of our current school. One of the other parents in Finn's classroom wasn't satisfied with the amount of commucation about her daughter's day, so thanks to her inquiries, we now get a written description about the day's activities on the white board right outside the classroom. These are the kinds of things that we as parents can effect to a positive result, along with making sure we reinforce the lessons and skills being taught in the classroom. I'm determined to be more aware of what is going on at school, and do my best to find ways overcome any communication barriers that may present themselves as the kids work through the different classrooms at the daycare.

Along those lines, I decided to do what I could to make some positive changes on the school's menu. Finn, and now Lucy, eat two meals and two snacks a day at school. They get far more of their nutrients and calories there than they do at home. Which means that I have very little opportunity to influence them toward a healthy diet/love of fruits and vegetables. As is the case in many daycare centers, ours is limited by money in what they can offer to the kids. Vegetables and/or fruit are offered at every lunch, but they are canned (I guess I should be happy they are at least offered, canned though they may be?). Hot dogs are on the menu a few times a month (how this can be seen as appropriate for any age group, but especially the under 2 crowd - hello, no molars and CHOKING HAZARD - I have no idea, but it seems to be a standard at most daycares). I had no visibility over what the breakfast or snack menus were, and I think I chose to remain ignorant so I wouldn't know the extent of the junk. Well, once Lucy started on table foods, I had to become aware, so that I could choose which menu items were appropriate for her. And the unblinding began.

Breakfast includes things like French toast sticks (not horrible, but not a whole grain in sight) with sausage and syrup, white toast with butter and cinnamon sugar, and sugary cereals like Apple Jacks or Fruit Loops (apparently mixed in with Cheerios, so that the whole bowl isn't full of the less-healthy cereal, but I don't think this is always carried out). There is also a day where scrambled eggs are served, so I do know that the kids get a little protein at least one morning a week. There is no fruit served with breakfast, but the drink is milk (instead of juice).

The snack menu, to me, was the more horrifying. Here it is, pretty much word for word:

Animal crackers
Graham crackers
Nilla wafers
Ritz crackers (sometimes with cheese)
Saltines (sometimes with cheese)
Goldfish
Oatmeal cookies
Chocolate chip cookies
Sugar cookies
Vanilla or chocolate pudding
Jello

There may be one or two more items that I am forgetting, but they are along the same genre. All carbs and sugar. No whole grains. No vitamin-enriched anything. No fruits or vegetables. Snacks from this list are served twice a day. The one that got me the most was Jello, because one of the floating teachers in Lucy's room couldn't understand why Lucy wasn't allowed to have Jello as a snack. She is young and ... well, she is young. I won't be more unkind than that. In what way is Jello an appropriate snack for my 11-month-old baby who cannot use a utensil, still drinks 4 bottles a day, fills her diaper with poop that I would prefer to have NOT be explosive, and needs a well-balanced diet to teach her how to eat?

If you count the Nilla wafers, graham and animal crackers, there are 6 types of cookies on this list. SIX. Crazy. In my house, we have one "cookie" - graham crackers. This just wouldn't do. I don't think kids need dessert-type foods every day. I grew up in a house where we could have sweets/junk food whenever we wanted, and my waistline has suffered mightily ever since.

Luckily, we are allowed to bring in food from home until a child is two, so I can bring in more appropriate snacks for Lucy. But that still abandons Finn to the mercies of the menu. And doesn't bode well for Lucy in another year. Instead, I decided to try to address the issue with the Director, who has two kids (and one more on the way) at the school herself, including one in Finn's classroom. She has a vested interest in a healthier menu, and I know she has done quite a bit of work to revise the curriculum at the school for the same reason. Conversations with other parents indicated that while many have complained about the menu in the past, no one has been able to get changes made. The problem lay not with the Director, but with the owner of the school (it's a small chain, and the owner lives somewhere in Pennsylvania, I have never seen him nor do I even know his name), an apparently "old school" type who didn't feel the need to make any changes. This is an attitude I didn't really understand, because enrollment was down all last year at our particular center. Doesn't he want to make his schools more attractive to parents, more and more of whom are really paying attention to things like school food, not satisfied with the standard crappy fare we all ate as kids?

So, I sent an e-mail to the Director (I figured if I did it by phone, I would back down to easily, or forget to mention some of the details of what I wanted to say). This is what I wrote to her:

[Intro stuff on other things] The second thing I wanted to bring up is the food menu. Until recently, I hadn't really been fully aware of everything the kids get for snacks and breakfast (I had more knowledge of the lunch menu because [Finn's teacher] writes that on her white board every day). It's important to me to try to instill my kids with good eating habits - I'm sure this is true for a lot of the parents at the school. We all need to rely on [Daycare Center] to help us with this - Finn and Lucy get 2 meals and 2 snacks a day at [Daycare Center] - the majority of their nutrition for the day. I was wondering if you/the owners would be open to trying to incorporate a few more fresh, healthier options into the menu. I have some specific suggestions that I'm hoping wouldn't be too difficult or any more costly than the current menu, such as:

For breakfast, substitute a whole grain/non-sugary cereal instead of Fruit Loops/Apple Jacks. Use whole wheat bread instead of white bread for the toast.

For the snack menu, substitute yogurt instead of jello. Instead of having 4-5 different kinds of cookies that are served, offer raisins, bananas, baby carrots, and other fresh fruits/vegetables on a few days of the week.

For the lunch menu, substitute frozen vegetables instead of canned vegetables (more nutrients).

From looking at an old snack menu posted outside the pre-K door, it seems that at least some of these foods have been offered by [Daycare Center] in the past. Why are they not offered now, and is there a way we can bring foods like these in?

I don't want to assume that all these suggestions can be easily carried out, but I wanted to put them out there and let you know that this is a very important aspect of my children's care to me. I know I am not alone in this, and that other parents feel the same way. It's important for us to feel like we can have a dialogue with the school about areas where we might like to have some input.

Please let me know your thoughts, and if I can help in any way.

Thanks,
A.

They weren't major changes that I was suggesting, but you need to start somewhere, right?

I sent this off on Thursday night, not expecting to get a positive response. But apparently, luck was on my side! I got a phone call from the director on Friday morning. She had spoken to the owner and his wife that morning, assuming she was doing so out of courtesy and that once again, they would refuse to make any changes. Indeed, the owner's wife was against making any changes to the menu at all. But somehow, the owner himself appears to have changed his mind. Perhaps he is seeing that so many of us parents have the same complaints, and that a cheaper menu doesn't necessarily mean a better bottom line financially. He told the director that he liked what I wrote, because it wasn't just a complaint about the food, there were specific recommendations for change. As a result, the director is now writing up a list of foods to add to the menu (not sure if she is just taking my suggestions only, or compiling a list from other people, too), and the owners are going to figure out which ones they can implement. We should know this week how the menu is going to change.

So, yay! I'm pretty proud of myself for not just accepting the status quo, or the reports from other parents that it wasn't possible to tackle this issue. Better yet, I'm glad I didn't let all my compiled negative feelings toward the center last week drive us toward finding another daycare for the kids. I have a good relationship with the director, and it would be silly to give up and move when it's possible to help make some changes that benefit not just my kids, but the entire center. Sure, it's not like we'll be switching to an all-organic, all-whole grain menu for the kids, but it's a start! And I'm pretty happy with that.

Hard, But Getting Better?

Well, Finn's daycare transition has not been seamless. After the first couple of days, I think reality set in, and he started putting up a fight. M. does the morning drop off, and he has been getting the brunt of it all. As they drive toward school, Finn gets quieter and quieter, then starts saying things like, "I don't want to go to my new school." As if that isn't hard enough to hear, once Finn is in the classroom, and it's time for M. to hit the road, the tears start. Ugh. And I think this is worse than previous daycare transitions simply because it's not just the tears anymore. Now Finn is old enough to express himself and say things that just break your heart. On one day, M. told Finn that it's OK to be a little sad. Finn told him, "No, Daddy, I not a little sad, I sad A LOT." And apparently he talks about us ad nauseum - he can't find his mommy, he can't find his daddy, he loves his mommy, he loves his daddy, his mommy's coming to pick him up later,... I'm pretty sure the staff is sick of him talking about us.

Finn's been putting up such a stink in the morning that some of the other parents have either witnessed it or overheard the teachers talking about it. When M. ran in to another parent yesterday and mentioned that Finn has been crying a lot, she said, "I heard." But by the time I come pick him up in the afternoon, he is fine, his usual goofy self. In fact, he runs all over the classroom or playground, and refuses to let me corral him out the door. I've called his teacher once or twice at around 10 am just to check in, and according to her he's always doing great by the time she gets in (at 8:30, I think). He's been napping well, and eating well. And he's really taken to potty training. He's even pooped in the potty twice! Bringing the grand total to 3 times, since he's only done it once at home. So it's not like he's having a miserable time, he's just having a hard time separating from us in the morning.

I think part of the problem is that Finn is one of the first, if not the first, kids to get in each day. Most of the parents must work pretty locally, I guess. And his teachers don't come in until 8:30, so he has to hang out in a different classroom for the first part of the morning. If there was a mess of kids playing, or the teachers that he spends most of his time with, already there during drop off, it would probably go more smoothly.

There are a few other things about the school that bother us, like the fact that there's a TV in the classroom, which we didn't know they had. It gets used on Fridays for movie day and once or twice a week for a short video like a Barney or Elmo episode. I'd rather Finn be playing outside or reading or coloring or SOMETHING. A little TV is OK, but selfishly I'd like to reserve that for when Finn's at home and I need to cook dinner. For the amount of money we're paying, the school should have enough activities planned that they don't rely on TV. Also, there's never anyone at the front desk during drop off or pick up - we've never actually met the school director. She lives in another state, and her hours each day are ridiculously abbreviated. Finally, one of the other parents (the one I mentioned above) overheard Finn chattering away and told M. that she's glad there's another child now in her daughter's class that talks a lot. Apparently most of the kids in Finn's class are pretty quiet/don't talk much. That may have nothing to do with Finn's teachers, but it does make me anxious that in the younger classrooms, there isn't enough emphasis on talking to the infants and toddlers to help their language development. Worrisome for the baby, I guess. It also makes me worry that Finn won't continue to be challenged, since his class is focused on learning things that he mastered quite a while ago (colors, counting to 10, etc).

All of this makes M. and I second guess our decision, of course. Did we do the right thing? But of course we need to give it more time. And I think it's natural to focus too much on the negative when there's "no going back" on our decision.

On the bright side, after a week of tears, we had a breakthrough yesterday at drop off. Finn was in a very good mood, and told M. he wanted to play with his new friends. Luckily, two of them were already at school when they walked in. Finn gave M. a hug, allowed himself to be distracted, and M. walked out with nary a tear in sight. I haven't gotten this morning's drop off report yet, but I'm hoping we've turned a corner. Finn still said this morning that he didn't want to go to his new school, but hopefully by the time he got there he was happily resigned to the idea. At pick up time, too, I've also been coming in to find him playing with other kids, rather than just running around and doing his own thing.

All of this had made me realize that the adolescent and teenage years are going to be TORTURE for me. I absolutely HATE the thought of my baby not being accepted by his peers, or feeling miserable in a new situation. I think it's especially hard for me because I had two built-in playmates my whole life, and I usually had their familiar company in most new situations. For example, I never went to the first day of school alone until I went to college. So new situations that I had to tackle on my own were very hard for me, and I was very shy. To this day, I can't "network," just introduce myself to perfect strangers and start talking. I'm sure I'm just projecting my own feelings/memories on to Finn, and I'm imagining him feeling far worse than he does. But good lord, he'd better be popular and accepted when he gets to middle school and high school or I am going to be one miserable mama.

I'm sure I'm worrying for nothing, though. I mean, who wouldn't love this kid?:

Trying to Leave out the Melodrama

Today is Finn's last day at his daycare, the place that has been caring for him since December 18, 2006. He was 8 weeks, 3 days old when I first dropped him off. Here is a picture taken that day:



There were surprisingly few tears that day on my part, I should note. I'm not good at public displays of emotion, and I was a little too anxious about pulling off the whole "work professional/mom/try to see my baby as much as possible" balance thing to worry much about tears. I arrived at work with mascara relatively intact.

We've been very happy with Finn's school about 95% of the time. The expectation that any childcare is absolutely perfect for your child is unrealistic, so I think we've been pretty darn lucky. And so I fear there may be significantly more tears from me today (the raging pregnancy hormones pretty much guarantee it). After all, what are the odds that we'll be just as lucky a second time?

This also means an end to my commute with Finn. I'll be making the 30 minute drive each way by myself from now on, as the new daycare is near home. No more constant chattering that identifies EVERY type of vehicle we pass, or demands that no, we're not driving, we're RACING! Oh, I shudder for the day he learns to drive, drat that movie Cars.

I have lots of good memories of our drives - Finn babbling and singing away as a baby; concentrating so hard on his car seat toy that he fell asleep with an arm in the air, reaching for it; more recently calling out "Mommy, I love you" from the backseat over and over again. Lots of bad memories, too, of course, like all the times I frantically reached back to feel for his pacifier and shove it in his mouth; the debates on whether I should just pull off the highway and breastfeed him because oh my God, THE SCREAMING, it was heart-rending; the endless rounds of Raffi on the radio.

It means an hour less time with Finn each day, which has become more like quality time and less like torture (for both of us) with each month he's gotten older. So, needless to say, I have mixed emotions.

And then there is the issue of the new school. Will Finn like it? Will he like his teachers? Will he make new friends? Will he feel comfortable and accepted? I know the answer to all those questions, at this age, is yes of course, but I also know that it will take some time. And my heart aches a bit for the confusion that Finn's going to feel over the next couple of weeks.

As we pulled off the highway today, REM's "It's the End of the World As We Know It" came on the radio. And I'm so not that melodramatic, I promise. This isn't college where one tends to imagine every depressing song was written truly, deeply about your own sad state of affairs, and songs have such MEANING. But I couldn't help thinking that Finn might think, just a little bit, come Monday, that his world is ending. At the very least, changing to something rather unrecognizable. It twisted that knife made of Mommy guilt, just a little bit.

So if you have a nice, warm, fuzzy story about how your young child changed schools/daycares/nannies and quickly adjusted, please share. It will cheer me up.

On an entirely different note, I set up a little online baby pool for friends and family to guess when Finn's brother or sister is going to be born, as well as the other pertinent stats (gender, weight, length, etc). Check out the ExpectNet.com box on the righthand sidebar for a link, and place your own guess if you'd like. While there will be no cash winnings for the closest guess, I can at least guarantee bragging rights and an announcement of the winner on this blog. So, at least to the 8 or so people that read this, you will be famous!

Searching for a Title

That appropriately conveys the massive failure of last night's sleeping experience. Perhaps:

The Words, They Were Written Too Soon

or

Jinx, Jinx, Jinx!!

or

How Life Likes to Remind You That You Still Have No Idea How to Parent

or simply

Ha Ha Ha (The Sleep Gods Laugh)

All seemed well. Finn went to sleep without any crying after I lay down with him in bed for about 10 minutes. We were anticipating a night even better than the last. We've turned a corner, he doesn't need the paci, doesn't even miss it, hurrah, we are wonderful parents!! Ha.

It's 10:30 pm. I turned off my light a few minutes earlier, way too tired to comprehend the words of the book I am reading. Sooo ready for some sleep. Then, somehow, something woke up the sleeping beast. Who, upon awakening, apparently only remembers that he has a mother and not a father, because the mantra of "mommy, mommy, moooommmmeeeee" is chanted/cried over and over again and aired over the monitor. M. goes down to settle him down. But instead of quiet, I hear lots of crying and "Nooooo" over the monitor, so it's mommy to the rescue. But it's not that simple. Because Finn is tossing and turning, playing with the damn fire truck and Thomas the Tank Engine that he somehow conned us into letting him bring to bed. Asking for water, for a snack, to watch the movie Cars. At one point, he said to me, "Mommy, I need stuff." Hopefully you get the picture here - wide awake toddler doing his best to NOT settle down.

At different points in time, whoever was in Finn's room would get totally frustrated and leave, with the child still awake. We would huddle up in bed, until the next round of cries started over the monitor, and then it was the other parent's turn to enter the fray. I gave up for good at 12:30, turning off the monitor. But M. went back down one last time, and somehow had the patience to sit with Finn until he fell asleep. He believes that he got back to our bed at around 2:00 am.

Then, Finn was awake again at 6:00 am. I raced down to his room as soon as I heard the noise (monitor was back on) just to try and buy us more time and keep him from fully waking up. I managed to comfort him back to sleep for another 45 minutes or so. The bottom line is that no one, not even the cat, got more than 3 or 4 consecutive hours of sleep. It's going to be a fun day, eh?

M. and I are both feeling a bit guilty, because we definitely lost our tempers at different points. I was just so MAD! I had been so tired, so ready to drift off the sleep. And the crappiest part was that, even when I was back in bed and off duty, I COULDN'T fall asleep. All the fuss and frustration had completely erased my sleepiness. And my sleep is precious these days! M., I'm sure, was able to sleep solidly as soon as he got back to bed at 2:00 am, and probably during some of the little jags in between wake up calls. But not me. That is the beauty of pregnancy sleep. I can usually only count, depending on when my first wake up of the night is, on 3-5 hours of solid sleep. After the first pee trip of the night, I toss and turn from then on, stealing little snatches of sleep if I'm lucky. Lots of reasons for this, of course. Increased blood flow and congestion has screwed with my nose. Combine that with the super-dry, hot air in our chimney of a bedroom, and I'm guaranteed to have at least one crusty nostril when I wake up to pee. And then I fixate on it. Even if air flow is only blocked by about 20% in one nostril, it bugs me (usually it's more, of course). I feel like I can't take a deep breath, like I'm whistling. And because it's so dry, no amount of nose blowing really takes care of it. I can't even lie propped on my back to drain anything because lying on my back makes me REALLY uncomfortable unless I'm basically sitting up. The same thing happened with Finn, too - probably something about the way I carry my babies super high, I suppose - the position of my uterus must cut off some kind of vital blood supply while I'm even semi-reclined.

If I do manage to either ignore or fix the nose problem, I spend the rest of the night trying to manage hip pain. I'm getting to the point in pregnancy where, when I flip over to give the hip I'm lying on a break, it still continues to hurt. And no amount of "pillow between the legs" helps. And soon enough, the other hip starts hurting too. So I flip from side to side, trying to get comfortable, until it's time to pee again.

All these symptoms are held at bay until my first wake up, usually some time between 2:30 and 4:30 am, and I can get solid sleep before then. Which means last night, my best hours of sleep were completely interrupted by Finn's shenanigans, and I was left with only the crappy, tossy-turny hours. Which totally pissed me off, and I'm afraid it made me have some not so pleasant feelings toward my child. I wasn't very nice to him at various points, though I did try to maintain some level of patience.

The one silver lining is that Finn, while he asked for many things, never asked for his paci (though it was clear, from how often his fingers touched his teeth/mouth, that he was missing it). And while M. was ready to give Finn the paci at around 11:30 or so, I convinced him not to. So, while the night may have been mostly sleep-free, it was also completely paci free, for better or worse.

I don't really have any tricks or tactics up my sleeve to try to help tonight go more smoothly. I guess we'll just do what we've been doing, and hope that it gets better. And for sure, I'm not writing/talking about any successes - no need to shoot myself in the foot.

A Holiday Review and a Look Toward 2009

2009 began quite early for us. 5:38 am, to be exact. Someone decided that, since he couldn't immediately find his pacifier when he first stirred, he was done sleeping for the day. Ugh. I have a feeling the damn paci is not long for this world.

That auspicious start to the day was followed by several whining fits. By the same paci-addict, of course, not M. or myself. I blame the 2-year-old molars that are definitely working their way to the surface of Finn's gums.

We spent an hour or so in the morning of New Year's Day checking out new daycares (from the outside only, of course, as none were open). The largest, most anxiety-ridden item on my big "Before The Baby Comes" To Do list is finding a daycare. Yes, we already have one that we like, a lot. But it's near my work, which would involve about 2 and a half hours of driving each day if I were to make 2 round trips to take Finn there and pick him up during my maternity leave. That's just not going to happen. So, we are looking for a new daycare closer to home. Possibly only for the 3 months of my maternity leave, but we are leaving ourselves open to the idea that we may keep Finn there permanently and have the baby go, too.

I've been putting off the daycare search because the mere thought of it riddles me with all kinds of guilt and other negative emotions. I hate the thought of disrupting Finn's life and schedule by moving him away from his friends and teachers to a brand new environment. Right at a time when his entire world is going to be turned upside down by the addition of a sibling. And, if we aren't completely satisfied with the new daycare, or we can't get a spot for the baby when the time comes, we will move Finn back to his old daycare when I go back to work. Two transitions in a 3-4 month period, possibly. Oh, the guilt. And even if it's only one transition (meaning we get a spot for the baby and switch to the new daycare permanently), I feel guilt. I LOVED going to visit Finn every day during my lunch hour, I did it for over a year. I knew every baby and teacher in the infant room intimately, and Finn and I had a lot of quality bonding time. Putting the new baby in a daycare near our home would mean I can't do the same thing this time around. And that doesn't even address the guilt I feel over my need to send Finn to daycare during my maternity leave. Why am I spending the money (especially when part of my leave will be unpaid) and uprooting my child when I could just keep him home with me? Stay at home moms do this kind of thing all the time - adjust to life with a newborn AND take care of a toddler or two, all day, every day. But I know myself. I had a hard enough time keeping my sanity during my maternity leave with Finn. I REALLY think that it would not be fair to Finn or the baby (or me) if I have them both home with me during my leave. So, yeah, did I mention I feel guilty? Maybe I was Catholic in another life?

Thankfully, we were able to cross several daycares off our list just by viewing them from the outside (our main goal yesterday, as I have no desire to tour all of the 13 or so options I had on my original list), and we have at least a few good places to pursue. Our drive yesterday morning gave me renewed energy and hope to tackle this big task.

Yikes, so I'm re-reading what I've written so far, and I realize it all sounds so negative. I'm actually quite full of good feelings about this year. Finn is going to make a wonderful big brother, we will find a great solution for childcare for both kids, we have lots of fun things to do to get ready for Baby M (seriously, have I mentioned how much I love folding and organizing baby clothes? Because I do. And I love that I have an excuse to do it all again.), my job may bring new opportunities for me later this year, and we have a huge surprise coming in April. Sunshine and roses here, people, REALLY.

In other news, I somehow became hugely pregnant. According to my OB appointment today, I am measuring right on track at 24 weeks. But seriously, my belly is going to need its own zip code soon. It now officially sticks out farther than my chest. With 16 weeks to go, I'm a bit worried about just how big it will get. But aside from that, I feel good, the baby is super active, and I'm loving this part of the pregnancy.

I'll end with a few pictures from the holidays. We took tons, but many just didn't come out very well. I'm contemplating looking in to a new camera soon, because I think we are not realizing the potential of some very good photo opportunities with our rinky-dink Olympia. Sorry for any blurriness or red eye below!

Testing out snow for the first time this year, not so sure how we feel about it:


Digging a sled ride from Bumpa after warming up to the snow:


A family picture taken on Christmas Eve:


An adorable picture of Cousin Penny:


The three cousins, Penny, Finn and Ned, in their Christmas finery:


Finn getting ready to hang his stocking by the chimney with care, in his new bathrobe from Grammy:


After the mad rush of opening stocking presents, Finn and M. taking a break:


The "big toy" of Christmas day, Finn's GeoTrax modules from Grammy and Bumpa:


Is there a doctor in the house?:


I cannot stress to you how INTO Frosty Finn has been during this winter season, and during our final day of snow play before heading home, Finn finally got to meet the epic, mystical Snowman (hind end thanks to M., abdomen thanks to Bumpa, and head courtesy of me):


PS - Resolutions, schmesolutions! My typical New Year's resolution is to lose weight, get in shape, etc - all various versions along the same theme of being able to buy smaller clothes, damn it. Now that I am luxuriously pregnant this year, I don't feel the need to torture myself with a resolution. So freeing! I highly recommend ditching resolution-making. Happy New Year to you all, I hope the coming months have many good things in store for you!