My Child is Broken. Help Me Fix Her.

This morning, at 10:45 to be precise, I woke up in my bed, stretched my arms, and rolled onto my right side to find that my daughter's brilliant blue eyes were open.She smiled at me, gave me a hug, and we agreed to go downstairs to watch a little Toy Story 3.

Sounds heavenly, right? I'm sure to those of you whose kids wake up with the sun no matter how late they stay up, it sounds downright luxurious. Sleeping in till almost eleven? On a Wednesday? It's a dream come true!

Except it is more of a nightmare. While I am glad that after passing out from sheer exhaustion at 11 P.M. Charlotte didn't decide to greet the day at her usual time of 8 A.M., I am dismayed by the fact that she has been cranky from the moment she woke up and will most likely take a 2-3 hour nap to make up for how poorly she slept, then be up all night once more.

Or, there's the even more dire possibility that she will NOT nap, and STILL be up until all hours. It can go either way with her. And, yes, the nap would save me a lot of sanity (though from the sounds coming from upstairs, I'm not optimistic) but what I really need is for her to be on something resembling a toddler's schedule, as opposed to that of a teenager on summer vacation.

***

Okay, many hours have passed since I started this post. Update: she did not nap. And she was less than pleasant for the remainder of the day. It was quite the debacle. Chris usually has great luck with putting her down for naps and even sometimes for bed. But, lately she has been freaking out if I'm not around, and once I am in the room with her, there is little chance of me leaving it without her.

So, here's what's going on: I take Charlotte up to her room for her vitamin and to have her teeth brushed. We read a couple stories. I sing her a couple songs. We turn out the light, she gives me a big hug, I put her in her crib, tell her "Goodnight" and walk out.

Or, at least that's how it used to happen. The last week or so has gone more like this: Charlotte prolongs story time as long as possible. Even after I tell her the story we are reading is the last one, and she agrees to this, she says "Again?" or "Different book?" as soon as I am done reading. She starts whining about wanting to come to my bed before I even sing her songs. We turn off the light (after much cajoling,) and right as I am about to put her in bed, or right as I am about to leave, she starts crying.

I struggle with this part a lot, but sometimes I walk out anyway. If the crying abates within a minute or two, I don't go back in. I feel guilty for the rest of the night, but I am glad that she's asleep. If, however, the crying doesn't stop and gets more intense as the seconds pass, I go back in.

I hold her. I rock her. I tell her that I know she can go to sleep in her crib. That she's a big girl. It doesn't matter. At this point, I'm basically stalling because she WILL end up coming to my bed. She cries so hard and asks so pitifully, that not only do I end up caving, I also feel like a horrible parent for even trying to get her to sleep in her own bed in the first place. I know. I'm a huge wimp.

But, seriously, the crying is very unsettling. And she says things like, "Don't leave me here!" Or, she'll ask (through sobs) "Can you go get your bed ready?" I know it sounds like I'm being a wimp, but I get the feeling she's going through something. If I'm rocking her to sleep in the rocking chair, which doesn't work anymore, by the way, and she starts to doze off, she will startle herself awake, and her eyes will frantically search for me. Only after she is sure I'm still there will she start to doze again. But, once I try to lay her down in her crib, even if she appears to be asleep, she'll cry and cling to me.

Once I acquiesce and bring her to my bed, a new battle begins. She tries to talk to me and play. I tell her it's time to sleep and try to ignore her. She nudges me with her elbow or drapes her entire body over me. Anything to get my attention. Last night we were in my bed for an hour, after being in HER room for an hour, when I gave up. I know how stupid it is to reward her for not sleeping, but I hadn't eaten dinner, and I needed a break. So, I brought her downstairs and let her watch a little bit of a movie while I ate and tried to psyche myself up for the next round.

By the time we went back upstairs to my room (She started hyperventilating at the very thought of going to her room, so I didn't even try) she was so exhausted that she passed out in five minutes. Then she slept so restlessly that no one really got enough sleep. She talks in her sleep. Sometimes she laughs, but usually she seems upset. She calls for me a lot in her sleep. Sometimes she wakes up and has to find me and be touching me in some way before she will go back to sleep. Once, she woke up, and I was in the bathroom. She SCREAMED.

So, what do you guys think? Am I being a big wimp, or does she really need me? And, in either case, what can I do about this since it is clearly not working? Any and all opinions are welcome.

Adventures in Exercise

I think I need to throw this bag of truffles into the trash. I sort of indicated that I was going to stop eating so many truffles after the holidays, didn't I? I do apologize for misleading you.

But! It's okay, because I actually went out for a run today. Well, a walk/run. And there may have been more walking than I'd care to admit. But, still! I went. And it was quite the ordeal, but I went anyway. Mainly because I have a little friendly wager going on with Cheryl, and whoever runs three times a week, ten times, first, gets a Starbucks card. I just envisioned lattes while I was panting along. There were a few reasons it was such a chore making this run happen today.And they are as follows:

My toddler's sleep schedule, otherwise known as OMGWTF?

We are still trying to undo the damage the holidays did to Charlotte's very delicate ability to sleep like a normal person. We live very close to both our families, plus we had family visiting from out of town. Between seeing everyone, shopping, family outings, etc. she kind of just napped when she napped, if at all, and bedtimes got later and later. It was very stressful, and ultimately resulted in what we have now, which is an almost-two-year-old who goes to bed around ten, sleeps in till nine, and naps late in the afternoon.

In trying to undo some of this damage, I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make her nap earlier. I'll spare you the boring details, but it was looking like she was finally going to sleep, but not early enough that I would have time to run before it got dark when she woke up. So, when she fought through that last attempt, I threw up my hands, made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and strapped her into the jogging stroller. If she wants to stay up, we're doing what *I* want to do.

The Wind

I live in the desert, and one of the many fun weather patterns, besides crippling heat and frigid (to us, anyway) lows, is the wind. It's intense. Case in point: my friend bought her daughter a trampoline for Christmas. and a few days later the wind blew it up over a wall and into the neighbor's yard, effectively destroying it. When we were kids and lived in a more remote part of the desert, my sister and I would walk down the street to our friends' house where the four of us would each collect a tumbleweed, place them in the middle of the street, then let go and run away as the wind blew them down the road. Good, clean, hick fun!

So, after bundling Charlotte, handing her her cookies, and venturing out of the garage, it should not have come as a surprise to me that I was punched in the face by an icy wind. But that sort of thing tends to surprise you no matter how many tumbleweeds you've ran from or how many times you got a brush stuck in your windblown hair.

I thought for a moment that this was an ill-fated trip, and that we would have to go home. But, then I remembered that the jogging path is nestled in between two hills and might be sheltered somewhat from the blasts. So, we set out, another obstacle narrowly dodged.

My Toddler

This isn't really her fault. But, when we got to a certain part of the trail, where it widens and there's loads of grass just waiting to be frolicked upon, she was pretty much over sitting in the stroller, munching on dry animal crackers, and requested to "Run, run, run." And, I couldn't exactly blame her. So, there was sort of a lull in my workout as Charlotte ran around getting her exercise, falling on her face, getting consoled, and picking up sticks. But, I'd like to think I made up for that lull by pushing her home against the wind.

My (lack of) Stamina

I know this will change. I know I will get stronger and faster, and my lungs will no longer ache and throb after mere moments of jogging but damn is it uncomfortable in the meantime.

So, there you have it. A suburban SAHM goes for a jog. Riveting, no?

The Saga Continues

Here is a haiku I wrote about tonight's session of rocking Charlotte to sleep:

Eyes are not closing
The rocking chair is squeaking
Patience is thinning

And here's another:

If you sleep right now
I will buy you a pony
For the love of God


This is what I was thinking about while I was standing in the dark next to Charlotte's crib, trying to ignore the deadening sensation in my arm because the rocking chair was making too much noise for me to sit in it. I didn't want to lose the momentum I'd gained going through the bedtime routine by greasing the chair, so I just proceeded with the rocking while standing. Although, I suppose if my arm had fallen asleep, causing me to drop Charlotte on the floor, I would have been starting from square one anyway. It was a gamble.

Related to this conversation: I heard a little girl outside call for her mom a second ago, and I thought it was Charlotte calling for me. My reaction to that perception can only be described as full-on panic. Holy hell, that was a close one!

So, yeah, it's wearing on me a little. The reluctance to sleep. The fact that I can't, no matter how hard I try, get her into bed much before nine, and usually it's later. The fact that most nights I'm starving because I usually eat dinner after she goes to bed.

But, what are ya' gonna do?

I Can't Even Pretend to Care Right Now

Okay, look.

It's nine P.M. Charlotte just went to bed. She's been doing this all week. No matter what I do, I cannot get her to bed before nine. It's been a long week.

I haven't eaten dinner. There is a bag of trash I put outside yesterday but was too lazy to take to the dumpster that has now been rained on, so I should probably do something about that. I have the St. Jude walk tomorrow EARLY in the morning. The last thing I want to do right now is write a blog post.

So, call this what you will. You'll either be generous and say that it counts as a post, or you'll be honest and admit that it doesn't. And if you're really out to get me, you might also point out some of the other questionable posts containing nothing more than a picture and a line or two of text, and you'll call me a cheater.

Do what you gotta do. I'm pouring a glass of wine, watching Dexter, and going to bed.

Cutting it Close

I actually thought about giving up on the NaBloPoMo thing tonight because I am seriously tired. Like the kind of tired where you feel wasted. I really don't sleep enough as it is, and the sleep I do get depends entirely on how well Charlotte is sleeping. Wow, that last sentence is like the most obvious thing a parent has ever said.

See, I haven't said anything about this before because even though I don't believe in "jinxing" things, this was too good to risk losing: Charlotte has been sleeping like a CHAMPION, lately. Like...a sleeping Olympian. She usually goes to bed and down for naps with a couple stories, a song or two, and a goodnight kiss, accompanied by a "See you in the morning," which she says to her stuffed animals when she pretends to put them to sleep. Yeah, it's cute.

If she wakes up in the middle of the night, I can usually get her back down with some binkies, a quick cuddle, and occasionally, another song. But, even then, she's been known to interrupt me (or Chris, but usually me) mid-song, point to her crib, and say "Night-night."

So it was a rude awakening (literally) when she woke up an hour and a half after I had finally fallen asleep and responded to every attempt to put her back down with, "Downstairs? Mommy's bed?" and subsequent wailing when those requests were denied. She did eventually come to bed with me so she could sit up, kick me in the face, and talk to me about her binkies. Chris came home to find us hanging out in bed. Me, half asleep and Charlotte, inexplicably wired. He was able to get her down, but I was on my own the next three times. There was Orajel application, a diaper change, a Tylenol dosage, more repetition of the same Beatles song than should be humanly possible, and a lot of sitting in my rocking chair alternately dozing and thinking, "What the hell am I going to do now?"

On top of all this, she wouldn't nap today. I don't know why she is trying to destroy me, but she is succeeding. Today the combination of sleep-deprivation and the fact that she once again, requested I leave the area in which she and her daddy were playing, resulted in me huddled in a corner of the kitchen, quietly crying.

I'm a pro, I am.

We Don't Take Our Clothes Off at the Park

See, now I remember why I never blogged. This toddler thing is killing me. We're on, what, day five? Five! And I already feel burnt out. Oh, suck it up, you big baby. Now, I'm talking to myself. Great.

I guess it's just felt like a long day. Up at 6:30, a trip to the park (Okay, this is sounding leisurely, Megan. Try harder...), tearing my kitchen apart to make some pumpkin gnocchi, which turned out only so-so, and blah, blah, blah.

Okay, it was a perfectly fine day. I'm just tired because I didn't get enough sleep. And whose fault is that? Mine!

Be that as it may, I'm pretty beat. Certainly too tired to write a proper post, so here is a list of random things that happened today. Hey, no complaining. You get what you get:

1. On the way to the restrooms at the park, Charlotte spotted a man on a tractor. "Tractor!" she yelled as she approached the maintenance shed in which Tractor Man was having a conversation with another man. They realized they were being watched by a creepy toddler voyeur and stopped talking. "Sorry, she just wants to see the tractor." "Oh, that's okay. Hi! I bet you just want a ride on the tractor, huh?" And this is when Charlotte looked directly at him and pulled her shirt up over her head. Was that a "no"? I couldn't say.

2. I ate two lunches. I sort of didn't realize I was doing it until I was mid-burger. Then I just went with it. The two frozen Reeses were just a bonus.

3. Charlotte and I were watching a little "Beauty and the Beast" this morning to take the sting out of the early morning blues. She called the Beast a lion and Belle, Allison. That's my sister. Yeah, she's pretty enough to be mistaken for Belle and vice versa.

4. I daydreamed about going across the parking lot and punching one of my neighbors in the face. I hate that guy. Actually, this is more of an ongoing thing than a recent event.

5. I left my new commuter mug that was pretty and green and made out of recycled plastic, at the park. I didn't realize it until we pulled into the garage, and it was too late to go get it because if I didn't put Charlotte down for a nap right then? Apocalypse. Now, I'm sad and will have to drink my coffee out of my hands, like a crazy person. Or maybe I'll replace it with one of those beer hats! Things are looking up!

That's all for tonight, folks. Tune in tomorrow for an explanation of how Charlotte's verbal exuberance is getting in the way of my good time.

I Never Promised You'd Enjoy This

It's day three, and I'm already going to sort of phone it in. I'm very tired, and I have a bottle of Sauvingon Blanc in the freezer calling my name. I think there are some Kit Kats next to it, too...

I'm tired because I'm a total moron who stays up way too late every night. Sometimes it's because I want to finish a movie or watch another episode of Arrested Development (Except now I've seen the whole series. Seriously, what is wrong with you, America, that you couldn't be bothered to keep unadulterated genius programming on the air for more than three seasons? Maybe we should vote on THAT next election.) Do I not have the absolute longest parentheticals you've ever seen? That's probably not something to be proud of.

Other nights I do bizarre things like bake an apple pie at ten o'clock even though I can barely keep my eyes open. Chris says I don't respect sleep, and I suppose that's true. I just don't make it a priority.So, my bedtime has been hovering around midnight for a while now. Some days, it works out okay for me, and other days I'm totally wrecked in the morning, and I sort of get through the three or four hours until nap time with copious amounts of coffee and sometimes with the help of my pals over at Disney. Have I told you about Charlotte's obsession with "Pincess Fog?" So, THEN I take a nap, right?

Not so much. I have, you know, stuff to do. I usually end up spending two straight hours in the kitchen while Charlotte naps. I'm really getting into this food thing, and I just can't resist the temptation to make pumpkin bread, or black bean chili, or risotto,(a serious and alarming addiction for me. Seriously, find me help)or soup, and hopefully soon my own pizza dough with a recipe sent to me by the lovely Kathleen.

Food has sort of become my new hobby/obsession. Which is great except that getting off my ass and exercising has not made the cut. So, in the spirit of making positive changes like writing more, I'm going to do two things: go to bed early tonight and go to the fitness center at my apartment complex during Charlotte's nap tomorrow,(Relax. Chris will be home. Child neglect isn't on my to-do list.)and clock in at least half an hour with the treadmill.

I'd go outside and do something, but it's like a billion degrees out here. IN NOVEMBER. I'll save that rant for tomorrow.

The Good, the Bad, and the Mundane

I'm far too tired to write a proper blog post. So, instead, here is a list of things that happened to me today. Some of them will explain why I'm too tired to write a proper blog post, and some of them will not. Enjoy!

1. Charlotte slept for ten hours before wanting a diaper change and to nurse, then slept for two more hours! I realize this isn't the best way to evoke your sympathy, but hear me out. While Charlotte may have had an awesome night's sleep, I did not. I had a terrific headache that lasted all through the night, plus my bladder is a wimp, PLUS I made the mistake of checking my Blackberry during my 3 A.M. potty wakeup, got a confrontational response to a blog comment I posted, and began to compose my rebuttal in my head. None of these are conducive to an awesome night's sleep for me.

2. I took Lotte to the mall (Have I ever called Charlotte "Lotte" here before? It's my preferred nickname for her because it reminds me of Victorian England.)Anyway, I took her to the mall for some shoes and for a little play time at the indoor playground since it's too effing hot for the park these days. We walked by a cart with a pushy salesman who practically dragged me to his chair so he could straighten my hair with an overpriced ceramic device and then try to sell it to me. I fancy myself pretty socially capable, but this guy made me SO uncomfortable. Between his close-talking (Seinfeld, anyone?) and his insincere flattery, not to mention the all too obvious sales lies: "This sale will only last a few more days! I'm the manager, and I don't usually give this deal to anyone. I'm gonna throw in this $50 hair spray!", I was a little disgusted with him. I know it's their job, and they need to make a living like anyone else, but GAH! I just hate when people compliment me when I know they don't mean it. It puts me in this really awkward position of having to be gracious, but not wanting to look like a fool by pretending I believe them. I...I don't know.

3. I completely destroyed my kitchen making ratatouille, what with all the peeling and seeding tomatoes, vegetable chopping, and olive oil splattering. Plus, I had to ignore my child while I was doing it, which has been one of the ways in which I'm struggling with cooking so much from scratch. I get really jealous hearing all the laughter coming from Chris and Charlotte as they play while I'm in the kitchen. I know I'm being a big baby. It's never more than an hour a day, tops, but it helps if you're pleased with the results of your labor. And today's ratatouille? Not so much.

Unlike this endeavor. THIS was worth every second.


4. I ran downstairs to throw some clothes in the dryer, and to my surprise and delight, Charlotte wanted to come with me, even though she was busy playing with her daddy. While I went about my business, Charlotte admired and prodded at a bike I'm borrowing from my mom, which we're keeping in the laundry room till we make space in the garage.

Well, it fell on her. So, to sum up: I feel super guilty about ignoring her and not being the one making her laugh and squeal with delight. I get her back for one minute, and she gets injured and is screaming. Faantastic. She was fine, just a scratch on her arm, but...still.

5. Right before Chris left for work I was bombarded with a return of the headache from hell, in addition to a cranky toddler from roughly the same region of hell. She was screaming, throwing tantrums, throwing OBJECTS, the works. Then, when we'd gotten her calmed down and Chris left for the night, she gave me the ol' bedtime fake-out. This is where we go through her whole bedtime routine of jammies, teeth, stories, and nursing, only to have her freak the hell out upon being placed in her crib, and we have to start over about twenty minutes later. The second go around almost always works, but man, is it rough getting anything done when I can't get her to sleep until almost nine.

Right before one of her trademark meltdowns

So, there you have it. The good, the bad, and the mundane.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

So.

Once again it has been much longer than I ever intended since I last wrote. If only this were the only element of my life being neglected! But, as I type, I can feel the dust from the computer desk accumulating on the palms of my hands and my kitchen floor is so filthy, I won’t walk on it in my bare feet. And I will walk ANYWHERE in my bare feet.

The reason for all this neglect and abandon is simple: no sleep. Oh, I know. You’ve heard it all before. We people with kids think we have the market cornered when it comes to sleep deprivation. The truth is, many of you out there (and by you, I mean all 7 of my readers) might not be getting any sleep either. And it might have absolutely nothing to do with a restless, clingy baby. Maybe you are worried about an assignment or presentation, or maybe you share a street with one of those annoying yappy dogs that won’t shut up all night. And if that’s the case, I’m not going to try to make you feel bad for me. At least I have something cute to look at when I’m up at 3 A.M.

Then again, not getting enough sleep sucks, no matter how chubby and lavender-scented the reason. My bleary eyes ache, I'm forgetful, and have gained about five pounds due to the sugar fixes I need to get me through my day. The funny thing is, we thought we had it made for a couple months there. When Charlotte was about two-months-old, she started sleeping through the night. I’m talking down at nine, up at seven. It was glorious. And we knew how good we had it. We appreciated it and silently congratulated ourselves when we heard tales of our friends’ sleepless babes. Ah, those were the days!

This lasted for a couple months. She even slept all night in her playpen while we were on vacation in San Francisco. It was when we returned from our trip that the trouble began. We figured since she was outgrowing the bassinet, and she’d already adapted so well to sleeping in a new place, that this would be the perfect time to move her to the crib. So, we nervously and tearfully (okay, the latter was just me) put her in her room, switched on the monitor, closed the door, and hoped for the best.

Predictably, she woke a few times. It was new. She also always seemed to have this psychic ability to sense when I was in the room with her, and she always slept better when I was, so this came as no surprise. But, since then? Since then, not a night has gone by that she hasn’t ended up in our bed. I realize that we make the choice to submit to her whims, it’s just that rocking her back to sleep every twenty minutes was starting to make us just a teensy bit INSANE. Though, also maddening is the fact that we have to deal with her pounding her fists on the bed when she gets restless, spitting her binky out and demanding it be put back, and rotating until her feet are right around one of our heads. Oh, and she likes to scratch her nails against the mattress and sometimes babble her baby nonsense at a perfectly obscene hour of the morning. And who can forget the super fun game wherein she turns to her side to slap Chris in the face a couple times, before flipping back over to give me a few good whacks? And so it is that one or both of us can usually be found pinning her arms to the bed with one arm and holding the binky with the other. But at least we don’t have to get out of bed!

And every time I mention this problem to anyone, the answer is always the same: “You’re going to have to let her cry it out”. And then I’m bombarded with stories of sleepless, scream-filled nights, sometimes one, sometimes two or three, sometimes more than a week. But then? After the screaming? Invariably, after all the screaming the kid was sleeping through the night. I recently watched a Momversation video on this very matter. I never realized it was such a heated topic. I just figured you either had the fortitude to listen to your kid cry for an unspecified amount of time, or you didn’t. But apparently, there are people out there who think you are torturing your baby by not rushing to scoop her up at the first sign of a whimper. And there are also people out there who feel that you are spoiling your child by running to their aid.

I honestly don’t have strong feelings on the matter. I agree with Heather Armstrong of Dooce.com (she’s in the video) who says that parents should just do what’s best for their family. Every time someone told me of their “cry it out” success story, I would mention it to Chris, and every time, he shot the suggestion down with a , “But, she’s just a baaaaby”. I was pretty sure I didn’t have the stomach for it, anyway, but I was getting desperate. But, when I really started to think about the realities of letting her cry, I realized it wasn’t something I was willing to do.

If Charlotte cried for ten minutes, then fell asleep or merely whined before knocking back out, I could see this working. But she cries so hard she has to catch her breath. She turns bright red. She makes the most blood-curdling and heart-wrenching sounds, and I just don’t think I can let her do that for any significant period of time. But mostly, Chris and I agree that we just aren’t ready to send her that message. The message being that we won’t be there to rescue her when she needs us. Even if it’s true that she doesn’t actually “need” us and is just being a brat. Eventually, she will have to learn that. And say what you will about us. Call us wimps or overindulgent parents. I just know that even though it’s annoying as hell, I need to be there when she cries. Even if it means not sleeping or having a social life for now.

I’m sure to many people this means we are creating a clingy, co-dependant monster, who will be in our bed till she’s in kindergarten. And they might be right.

Oh, God. They might be right…