I'm here taking a much needed deep breath.
We are having company for cake and ice cream tonight, for a belated birthday celebration for Timothy. We were sick around his birthday, so I had to keep calling my aunt to postpone. Her husband is one who will back away from you if you even mention that someone is ill, or has been ill. Two kids are still snotting, but oh well. I tried. Life must go on.
As well, my husband's aunt and uncle are coming for an overnight visit this weekend. They've never visited before, and they've never seen our girls.
You know how it goes when you've got to prepare the house for overnight guests. A . huge. exhausting. undertaking. I always run around breathless, cleaning everything in sight, running on empty, as there's no time to eat or drink before the arrival deadline.
Each time I prepare for guests, I beat myself up, wondering what's wrong with me that my house gets this bad, and requires this much turmoil to set right. Don took the older three to the park today, so I could rush around as much as possible, uninterrupted. Of course, my Anna took a short nap. Sigh.
Today it dawned on me that this mess is just my season of life for now. Diapers, meals, snacks, messes, laundry, and schooling, keep me running all day long, every day. There isn't some formula I'm failing to see, or failing to implement. If this were a business we were running, we'd be advised, "Hire some help!" But there is no help coming. Chaos reigns when your kids come close together, and they're all still little. Period. End of story. Especially if there's no close family around (my dad moved back to Vegas in October). My aunts have their own families to worry about.
I have to stop berating myself, and just accept. If it weren't for guests coming periodically, the house would probably look worse. So I need to thank God for these times of turmoil and tension, whilst the house gets back some of its glory. It's glory that only lasts for about five waking hours, but at least during that time, I can walk around and say, "Hey, what a nice house this is!"
Showing posts with label mother madness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother madness. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Saturday fun
My advice? If you've just mopped your floor, and the kids are out playing in the backyard, lock all the doors! For if you step away from your door-guarding duty, you know what will happen.
Okay, sister. I'll show you how it's done. To get the maximum-decibel impact, just watch me.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
some weeks beg for chocolate
Top Ten Reasons To Go Out for Chocolate:
1. The kids wake up sick.....again.
2. Baby spills cereal and mashed banana on the dining room floor, and for the next 48 hours it doesn't get cleaned up--but not for lack of trying.
3. You haven't finished a meal in three days, and you're trying to gain weight.
4. Your two-year-old daughter is afraid of monsters, and after a month of crying (daughter and Momma), you move her in with her two brothers. Just when things start to calm down in there, Daylight Savings Time arrives.
5. The thrift store is your only entertainment. The economy is in recession.....a long one. The Edison bill got paid just two days before the shut-off deadline. If only you hadn't purchased those three-dollar pants at the thrift store. But when there's a budget shortfall of several hundred, what's the use?
6. Your baby, cranky because of a runny nose, demands to be swayed and paced for the duration of her naps. When you try to recline on the bed......finally.....she wakes up and starts crying.....again.
7. Your children, knowing there is Trick R Treat candy on top of the fridge, ask you for a piece, for the fourth time in a day. You throw the bag in front of them (not your finest parenting moment) and say, "Go ahead and rot your teeth!"
8. The sun refuses to come out and the color is gone from the trees.
9. School is out of the question, considering baby's fussiness. The best you can do is call it "Game Day" and get out a stack of educational games/puzzles. Later, you ask them to write about their favorite game. When they object, you say, "Then write about your favorite candy." They smile, and ask for another piece, so they can "copy down the correct spelling". You grant this request, with nary a complaint.
10. Over the last 48 hours, you've washed the same load of clothes twice, and fluffed another load 3 times, all because baby wouldn't stay asleep for more than fifteen minutes without Momma's soothing arms (teething and a cold).
But, yes, these are the best years of your life. Hands down. No sarcasm there.
Just don't run out of chocolate.
1. The kids wake up sick.....again.
2. Baby spills cereal and mashed banana on the dining room floor, and for the next 48 hours it doesn't get cleaned up--but not for lack of trying.
3. You haven't finished a meal in three days, and you're trying to gain weight.
4. Your two-year-old daughter is afraid of monsters, and after a month of crying (daughter and Momma), you move her in with her two brothers. Just when things start to calm down in there, Daylight Savings Time arrives.
5. The thrift store is your only entertainment. The economy is in recession.....a long one. The Edison bill got paid just two days before the shut-off deadline. If only you hadn't purchased those three-dollar pants at the thrift store. But when there's a budget shortfall of several hundred, what's the use?
6. Your baby, cranky because of a runny nose, demands to be swayed and paced for the duration of her naps. When you try to recline on the bed......finally.....she wakes up and starts crying.....again.
7. Your children, knowing there is Trick R Treat candy on top of the fridge, ask you for a piece, for the fourth time in a day. You throw the bag in front of them (not your finest parenting moment) and say, "Go ahead and rot your teeth!"
8. The sun refuses to come out and the color is gone from the trees.
9. School is out of the question, considering baby's fussiness. The best you can do is call it "Game Day" and get out a stack of educational games/puzzles. Later, you ask them to write about their favorite game. When they object, you say, "Then write about your favorite candy." They smile, and ask for another piece, so they can "copy down the correct spelling". You grant this request, with nary a complaint.
10. Over the last 48 hours, you've washed the same load of clothes twice, and fluffed another load 3 times, all because baby wouldn't stay asleep for more than fifteen minutes without Momma's soothing arms (teething and a cold).
But, yes, these are the best years of your life. Hands down. No sarcasm there.
Just don't run out of chocolate.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
high fives for momma
I exercised discipline this morning. I know. Shocking.
You see, the house is disheveled. Don has been gone a lot and the multitude of nurse-maid, kid-style interruptions have prevented me from plowing forward on any domestic task. At night, I've been reading AD/HD books, rather than doing chores. Not wise, as it turns out.
I started the morning school-day routine, but the familiar I'm-drowning-in-clutter-and-crumbs stress began to overwhelm me. Last year, when it happened, Don would pack up everyone but the baby and take them to the park for two hours, allowing me to at least sweep, mop, declutter the kitchen counter, and shuffle laundry, uninterrupted--except for mixing in some baby hugs and nursery rhymes.
But homeschooling requires discipline. One can't make a habit of throwing lessons out the window when domestics get behind. Consistency is the key to learning. Plowing forward steadily is a must.
So I took deep breaths, and told myself I had to wait until tomorrow to catch up. (We do Saturday school.) Putting my ever-moving motor into park was excruciating, given the environment. But I did it.
High fives for Momma.
You see, the house is disheveled. Don has been gone a lot and the multitude of nurse-maid, kid-style interruptions have prevented me from plowing forward on any domestic task. At night, I've been reading AD/HD books, rather than doing chores. Not wise, as it turns out.
I started the morning school-day routine, but the familiar I'm-drowning-in-clutter-and-crumbs stress began to overwhelm me. Last year, when it happened, Don would pack up everyone but the baby and take them to the park for two hours, allowing me to at least sweep, mop, declutter the kitchen counter, and shuffle laundry, uninterrupted--except for mixing in some baby hugs and nursery rhymes.
But homeschooling requires discipline. One can't make a habit of throwing lessons out the window when domestics get behind. Consistency is the key to learning. Plowing forward steadily is a must.
So I took deep breaths, and told myself I had to wait until tomorrow to catch up. (We do Saturday school.) Putting my ever-moving motor into park was excruciating, given the environment. But I did it.
High fives for Momma.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
glitches
Oh, how I loved my new sleep schedule! Life was seeming so much like a breeze. Okay, well...not really a breeze--just a relative breeze. But, alas, it's been thwarted by my problematic sleeper, Anna Grace. She is apparently getting a third tooth, although I don't feel anything actually coming through. She's been waking every thirty minutes or so in the early morning, which means I can't leave the bed to get my shower, do devotions, or complete any chores. I am fearful of her crawling off the edge of the bed, looking for Mommy. Transferring her to the crib that time of the morning just wakes her up.
Another glitch is that Daddy either studies late into the night, or works late into the night. Having Anna wake him up frequently after he's just gotten into a deep sleep isn't kind.
I'm very disappointed with these glitches. Now that I've tasted the peace and order that flow from actually completing necessary tasks, uninterrupted, I feel off balance and cranky. I miss that smooth-sailing start.
Anna and I still get up before the older kids by an hour, and that helps some. I can start laundry, feed Anna cereal, straighten up the living room and playroom, or look at a lesson plan or two. But I can't get my shower until Daniel comes out at 7 and can keep Anna company. Moreover, all the children are up by the time my shower is complete, and they all want a piece of me--making it frustrating to try to get dressed to shoes, put on lipstick and mascara, blowdry my bangs, and put scrunching product on my wet permed hair--to be combed out later. I do all this hygiene business while trying to keep the troops quiet so Daddy can stay asleep. Believe me, this scene is anything but relaxing.
There is peace in knowing that I'm getting healthier sleep, that I've kicked my computer-screen addiction, and that I'm getting some special time with Anna, who is pretty independent (as babies go). She loves to walk around and play with her toys in the living room, which gets blocked off to become her own special, large playroom--devoid of choking hazards. She can see me in the dining room doing laundry, so she is content while I work for a bit. I recite nursery rhymes to her while I start the laundry and fix her cereal.
I love nursing babies--including night nursing--and I hate cry-it-out techniques. So for now, I'll settle for some continued, somewhat-controlled chaos. Having a cuddly baby in my bed gives me a unique peace and joy--an irreplaceable gift.
By this time next year, she should be sleeping through the night. And 4 a.m. hot chocolate--enjoyed, not gulped--will be mine.
Another glitch is that Daddy either studies late into the night, or works late into the night. Having Anna wake him up frequently after he's just gotten into a deep sleep isn't kind.
I'm very disappointed with these glitches. Now that I've tasted the peace and order that flow from actually completing necessary tasks, uninterrupted, I feel off balance and cranky. I miss that smooth-sailing start.
Anna and I still get up before the older kids by an hour, and that helps some. I can start laundry, feed Anna cereal, straighten up the living room and playroom, or look at a lesson plan or two. But I can't get my shower until Daniel comes out at 7 and can keep Anna company. Moreover, all the children are up by the time my shower is complete, and they all want a piece of me--making it frustrating to try to get dressed to shoes, put on lipstick and mascara, blowdry my bangs, and put scrunching product on my wet permed hair--to be combed out later. I do all this hygiene business while trying to keep the troops quiet so Daddy can stay asleep. Believe me, this scene is anything but relaxing.
There is peace in knowing that I'm getting healthier sleep, that I've kicked my computer-screen addiction, and that I'm getting some special time with Anna, who is pretty independent (as babies go). She loves to walk around and play with her toys in the living room, which gets blocked off to become her own special, large playroom--devoid of choking hazards. She can see me in the dining room doing laundry, so she is content while I work for a bit. I recite nursery rhymes to her while I start the laundry and fix her cereal.
I love nursing babies--including night nursing--and I hate cry-it-out techniques. So for now, I'll settle for some continued, somewhat-controlled chaos. Having a cuddly baby in my bed gives me a unique peace and joy--an irreplaceable gift.
By this time next year, she should be sleeping through the night. And 4 a.m. hot chocolate--enjoyed, not gulped--will be mine.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad sleeping
Good morning! I have only checked my e-mail three times these last few days. Victory!
The master schedule I've been writing--designed to put us on the road to sanity and learning--is nearly done. My Anna Grace, 9 months-old, sweet as honey, and a blessing beyond words, is a terrible, horrible, no-good, VERY-BAD SLEEPER--to borrow some words from Alexander. My only time to work on the schedule is after the children are in bed at night. Her Royal Sweetness wakes up so frequently--night and day--that the planning and revising is a very. slow. process.
Just now, I put her down for what should have been a 90-minute nap. As I hear her cries and look at the clock, I see it was only a 35-minute nap. While it's very hard not to get emotionally pent up about this (given that I'm sleep deprived), I will simply get her up and let it go.
Because I have no choice. God, allow Her Royal Sweetness to sleep! Please! Pretty please, even.
No sarcasm in the "Royal Sweetness" part....she really does have the best temperament ever. Remind me when she is three that I once said this, will you?
The master schedule I've been writing--designed to put us on the road to sanity and learning--is nearly done. My Anna Grace, 9 months-old, sweet as honey, and a blessing beyond words, is a terrible, horrible, no-good, VERY-BAD SLEEPER--to borrow some words from Alexander. My only time to work on the schedule is after the children are in bed at night. Her Royal Sweetness wakes up so frequently--night and day--that the planning and revising is a very. slow. process.
Just now, I put her down for what should have been a 90-minute nap. As I hear her cries and look at the clock, I see it was only a 35-minute nap. While it's very hard not to get emotionally pent up about this (given that I'm sleep deprived), I will simply get her up and let it go.
Because I have no choice. God, allow Her Royal Sweetness to sleep! Please! Pretty please, even.
No sarcasm in the "Royal Sweetness" part....she really does have the best temperament ever. Remind me when she is three that I once said this, will you?
Monday, August 31, 2009
inspiration
I just read the most inspiring post. Yes, blogging and blog reading is a time suck, with which I maintain a love/hate relationship. But when the needs of my four children--especially my teething baby--deplete me before the clock strikes 12 noon, it helps enormously to come into my bedroom to fetch something, and to steal a few minutes to read a Christian post. Especially when the Lord manages to post just the right blog, at just the right time. Sometimes the fit and timing are SO perfect, there's no question that the Lord is responsible.
Before I share the post I just read, let me elaborate on why I'm in an overwhelmed state. Now's the time to roll your eyes. Yes, I'll wait.
It stems from a few issues. I am still trying to read through the introductory pages of my second-grade teachers' editions. It is slow going, although I've progressed enough to know that I chose very good resources for Daniel (Bob Jones University Press).
In addition, I am constantly thinking about the schedule I'll write. It has to fit with Don's school and study needs, with the girls' naps, with meals, with extra-curricular activities, and with laundry and meal cleanup. Exercise has to be worked into it, as well as grocery runs, appointments, etc. In short, the task is an all-consuming one.
Complicating everything is Anna's teething. She must have a lower tolerance for pain than the others. She is sleeping about as well as a newborn, and her discomfort seems to be stretching out to nearly three months worth of upheaval. The crazy sleep schedule is causing my migraines to worsen, which makes it harder to keep up.
Furthermore, I decided upon learning that it would go down to 40 degrees last night, that I'd better have Don get the fall/winter storage boxes out of the shed so that I can get our clothes washed and sorted for giving away, or for hanging up in closets. The house is littered with piles of clothes, which is normal for us when the seasons change; we have inadequate closet space. This time I'm trying to be more thorough and give away more, so I can reduce closet clutter. We always wear far less than I hang up.
So considerable chaos reigns right now. It would help enormously if I would start getting up before the family to shower, unload the dishwasher, start a load of clothes, and put oatmeal on the stove. My exhaustion always prevents that from happening, in addition to the fact that setting an alarm in our bedroom, which we share with Anna, would wake her up and require Don to care for her while I shower. She is a Momma's girl to the core, so being alone with Daddy makes her cry, which causes the others to wake prematurely. Anna loves having Daddy around, so long as Momma is close by. Perhaps because he isn't her milking cow? I wonder.
When things are this disorganized, we Mommas need only to remember what our mission is. Most decidedly, it is not writing the perfect schedule, having perfectly stocked closets, or rising in the morning at a time we deem unselfish. All those things help, sure. But keeping our eyes fixed on Him, and on what He would have us do as mothers, is the main thing. He would not overwhelm us. He would not require more than we can give. He would not drive us into migraine territory. It is our stubbornness, in wanting our own way, that leads to these problems.
As this blog author writes, He must increase, and we must decrease. That is the answer. And I thank the Lord for having me read it at this moment. This God-inspired blog author brilliantly spills it all out, for us hungry Mommas to drink up.
Before I share the post I just read, let me elaborate on why I'm in an overwhelmed state. Now's the time to roll your eyes. Yes, I'll wait.
It stems from a few issues. I am still trying to read through the introductory pages of my second-grade teachers' editions. It is slow going, although I've progressed enough to know that I chose very good resources for Daniel (Bob Jones University Press).
In addition, I am constantly thinking about the schedule I'll write. It has to fit with Don's school and study needs, with the girls' naps, with meals, with extra-curricular activities, and with laundry and meal cleanup. Exercise has to be worked into it, as well as grocery runs, appointments, etc. In short, the task is an all-consuming one.
Complicating everything is Anna's teething. She must have a lower tolerance for pain than the others. She is sleeping about as well as a newborn, and her discomfort seems to be stretching out to nearly three months worth of upheaval. The crazy sleep schedule is causing my migraines to worsen, which makes it harder to keep up.
Furthermore, I decided upon learning that it would go down to 40 degrees last night, that I'd better have Don get the fall/winter storage boxes out of the shed so that I can get our clothes washed and sorted for giving away, or for hanging up in closets. The house is littered with piles of clothes, which is normal for us when the seasons change; we have inadequate closet space. This time I'm trying to be more thorough and give away more, so I can reduce closet clutter. We always wear far less than I hang up.
So considerable chaos reigns right now. It would help enormously if I would start getting up before the family to shower, unload the dishwasher, start a load of clothes, and put oatmeal on the stove. My exhaustion always prevents that from happening, in addition to the fact that setting an alarm in our bedroom, which we share with Anna, would wake her up and require Don to care for her while I shower. She is a Momma's girl to the core, so being alone with Daddy makes her cry, which causes the others to wake prematurely. Anna loves having Daddy around, so long as Momma is close by. Perhaps because he isn't her milking cow? I wonder.
When things are this disorganized, we Mommas need only to remember what our mission is. Most decidedly, it is not writing the perfect schedule, having perfectly stocked closets, or rising in the morning at a time we deem unselfish. All those things help, sure. But keeping our eyes fixed on Him, and on what He would have us do as mothers, is the main thing. He would not overwhelm us. He would not require more than we can give. He would not drive us into migraine territory. It is our stubbornness, in wanting our own way, that leads to these problems.
As this blog author writes, He must increase, and we must decrease. That is the answer. And I thank the Lord for having me read it at this moment. This God-inspired blog author brilliantly spills it all out, for us hungry Mommas to drink up.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
yet another
You've probably been thinking lately that if this woman writes one more blog post about yeast, or about menstrual cycles and nursing, or about nipple blisters, than I will most decidedly QUIT reading. Well..........here goes.
I had that rash nearly healed, I tell you. Miss Vinegar Butt was nearly ready to say goodbye to her vinegar rinses, when her beloved Daddy lost the tube of anti-fungal cream. We looked for two days. Nowhere. Instead of calling for another prescription, I thought since it was nearly healed we could get away with an over-the-counter anti-fungal. Well, no. It got worse. So on the third day I asked Don to run to the pediatrician's office and ask for another prescription. My fear was that since we had quit using the first cream before the rash was completely gone, the yeast would likely develop a resistance, making it prudent to use something different this time. Somehow that didn't get conveyed to the secretaries, who just brought out a prescription for the same stuff. $35 later, my fear seems to have been warranted. No response from the yeast colony to this cream.
I am continuing with it for a few more days, however, before embarrassing ourselves one more time and going back for more help. I've added apple-cider vinegar instead of white vinegar, and now also Oil of Oregano, which has been used forever for yeast. I also bought the super expensive Huggies Overnights in size four, which is a size too big. When I can, I am letting Anna fall asleep on my bed, and staying with her so I can keep her diaper open.
Anna is still teething, although the three-day fever is gone. There were no other symptoms so I assume it was the teething. These babies do go through so much their first year! Heavens!
Despite the jaw pain, she is still having fun during playtime, having added a new skill to her gym time--standing up without support. She squats down, then slowly rises up, while trying to keep her balance. It lasts for a few seconds only, but she really enjoys the challenge and practices a lot.
The family went to the much-anticipated playdate without me. I am heartbroken, but I have to focus on getting rid of this rash and helping Anna take reasonable naps during this bout of teething. Walking through the hot and sticky woods, and playing outside in this horrible humidity would have surely made the rash worse.
I do miss my other children! And they do feel neglected! May God's grace take over!
I had that rash nearly healed, I tell you. Miss Vinegar Butt was nearly ready to say goodbye to her vinegar rinses, when her beloved Daddy lost the tube of anti-fungal cream. We looked for two days. Nowhere. Instead of calling for another prescription, I thought since it was nearly healed we could get away with an over-the-counter anti-fungal. Well, no. It got worse. So on the third day I asked Don to run to the pediatrician's office and ask for another prescription. My fear was that since we had quit using the first cream before the rash was completely gone, the yeast would likely develop a resistance, making it prudent to use something different this time. Somehow that didn't get conveyed to the secretaries, who just brought out a prescription for the same stuff. $35 later, my fear seems to have been warranted. No response from the yeast colony to this cream.
I am continuing with it for a few more days, however, before embarrassing ourselves one more time and going back for more help. I've added apple-cider vinegar instead of white vinegar, and now also Oil of Oregano, which has been used forever for yeast. I also bought the super expensive Huggies Overnights in size four, which is a size too big. When I can, I am letting Anna fall asleep on my bed, and staying with her so I can keep her diaper open.
Anna is still teething, although the three-day fever is gone. There were no other symptoms so I assume it was the teething. These babies do go through so much their first year! Heavens!
Despite the jaw pain, she is still having fun during playtime, having added a new skill to her gym time--standing up without support. She squats down, then slowly rises up, while trying to keep her balance. It lasts for a few seconds only, but she really enjoys the challenge and practices a lot.
The family went to the much-anticipated playdate without me. I am heartbroken, but I have to focus on getting rid of this rash and helping Anna take reasonable naps during this bout of teething. Walking through the hot and sticky woods, and playing outside in this horrible humidity would have surely made the rash worse.
I do miss my other children! And they do feel neglected! May God's grace take over!
Monday, August 17, 2009
out of my own heart
I really loved this post on parenting. Every bit is straight out of my own heart.
My Anna Grace and her bout of teething is kicking my behind good. She's running a temperature and struggling to nurse and waking us up every hour or so. Zombie city around here. I really needed this post this morning. What a great blog!
My Anna Grace and her bout of teething is kicking my behind good. She's running a temperature and struggling to nurse and waking us up every hour or so. Zombie city around here. I really needed this post this morning. What a great blog!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Happy Diapering!
The other day I gave unsolicited information about breastfed babies and stored/dietary iron issues. Another day, another issue. Just call me Momma Doc. Let's talk diaper rashes, shall we? When baby starts solids, that first stinky stool might irritate her adorable bottom. Apply Desitin as usual and wait for its widely-praised magic.
Only what if the magic doesn't happen this time--for the first time ever? And what if the rash looks different than usual--like in, bumps that are like lesions, instead of the usual red, irritated look? Call the doctor, you say?
I did that, two weeks ago. He said that yes, some diaper rashes can have bumps. Further, he suggested applying Crisco and corn starch, as well as letting baby go without a diaper--when it's convenient.
Yes, I agree. What useful advice. Who would have thunk it? Crisco, and letting baby poop and pee all over the carpet--so that she can ultimately put her hands in it and eat it. And of course spread it around everywhere. Brilliant advice! I should have gone to medical school! Surely I can come up with advice like that--if of course I tried really hard.
After getting off the phone with my beloved Doc (seriously, he IS nice), I told Don I had to make a Walmart run for a truckload of Desitin and larger, more absorbent diapers for Anna.
About $35 dollars and two weeks later, the rash is STILL there. Early on, I even tried an anti-yeast cream for a couple diaper changes. Didn't seem to change anything.
I admitted defeat today, after changing Anna about every 75 minutes (every five hours at night) for two weeks--including rinsing her in the sink instead of using wipes. This has been a stressful process, to say the least. There were times I felt if I had to change ONE more diaper, and fight with my baby to keep the truckload of Desitin off of her clothes, my clothes, and the surrounding area one more time, I was going to become seriously unglued--as in major primal-screaming, hissy-fit unglued. Oh. Yeah. I actually DID that once, didn't I?
The doctor said to bring her in if it didn't clear in four days. I was stubborn and busy and waited too long, obviously.
The bottom line (get it? bottom) is that she has a yeast infection. Her skin was irritated by the new type of stool, and then yeast invaded the irritated skin.
My rash advice:
- If the rash doesn't bother baby, it's probably yeast.
- If Desitin doesn't do its usual magic, it's probably yeast.
- Use only one type of diaper wipe--avoid changing brands, as that irritates skin.
- Don't admit to the doctor that you laughed behind his back and wrote a sarcastic blog post about his advice.
- Don't admit to the doctor that you just bought stock in the Desitin company.
- When told to bring in baby if the rash doesn't clear in four days, LISTEN--it's probably yeast, and you need a prescription!
Happy diapering!
Only what if the magic doesn't happen this time--for the first time ever? And what if the rash looks different than usual--like in, bumps that are like lesions, instead of the usual red, irritated look? Call the doctor, you say?
I did that, two weeks ago. He said that yes, some diaper rashes can have bumps. Further, he suggested applying Crisco and corn starch, as well as letting baby go without a diaper--when it's convenient.
Yes, I agree. What useful advice. Who would have thunk it? Crisco, and letting baby poop and pee all over the carpet--so that she can ultimately put her hands in it and eat it. And of course spread it around everywhere. Brilliant advice! I should have gone to medical school! Surely I can come up with advice like that--if of course I tried really hard.
After getting off the phone with my beloved Doc (seriously, he IS nice), I told Don I had to make a Walmart run for a truckload of Desitin and larger, more absorbent diapers for Anna.
About $35 dollars and two weeks later, the rash is STILL there. Early on, I even tried an anti-yeast cream for a couple diaper changes. Didn't seem to change anything.
I admitted defeat today, after changing Anna about every 75 minutes (every five hours at night) for two weeks--including rinsing her in the sink instead of using wipes. This has been a stressful process, to say the least. There were times I felt if I had to change ONE more diaper, and fight with my baby to keep the truckload of Desitin off of her clothes, my clothes, and the surrounding area one more time, I was going to become seriously unglued--as in major primal-screaming, hissy-fit unglued. Oh. Yeah. I actually DID that once, didn't I?
The doctor said to bring her in if it didn't clear in four days. I was stubborn and busy and waited too long, obviously.
The bottom line (get it? bottom) is that she has a yeast infection. Her skin was irritated by the new type of stool, and then yeast invaded the irritated skin.
My rash advice:
- If the rash doesn't bother baby, it's probably yeast.
- If Desitin doesn't do its usual magic, it's probably yeast.
- Use only one type of diaper wipe--avoid changing brands, as that irritates skin.
- Don't admit to the doctor that you laughed behind his back and wrote a sarcastic blog post about his advice.
- Don't admit to the doctor that you just bought stock in the Desitin company.
- When told to bring in baby if the rash doesn't clear in four days, LISTEN--it's probably yeast, and you need a prescription!
Happy diapering!
Friday, July 31, 2009
gym time, and empty nests
Anna is consumed by her new pulling-up skills, and by her even-newer cruising skills. She deems them SO worthy of her time, in fact, that she's decided sleep is vastly overrated.
Anna Grace: "I haven't got time for SLEEP anymore, Mommy. I don't exactly know when the Infant Olympics start, but by golly, I want to be ready. You won't stand in my way now--will you, Mommy? You go ahead and sleep, Mommy, if you can, while I rise at 5:00 a.m. and happily squeal my way through a good ninety minutes of gym time. Don't you and Daddy pay me any mind. I can manage this on my own. I'll give you a holler when morning gym time is over."
Mommy: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
That's me, primal screaming after three days of 5:00 a.m. risings, and naps that don't occur unless I hold a crying, frustrated, overtired, 7.5-month-old gym fanatic down long enough for her to realize she is exhausted. Then, because she is SO exhausted, I am forced to hold her for her entire nap, without moving a muscle, because otherwise her jumpy, overtired body wakes up over the slightest sound or movement.
A month ago we achieved a very good nap routine that was working for me, finally. I would nurse her, kiss her, put her in her crib, and within ten minutes, she was out.
Yes, I know. This too shall pass. Trouble is, every time something passes, some other trying thing is right on its heels. Constant. That's what life is like when your hyper-active children outnumber your couch-potato children. My ratio is three to one. This life is blessed, charmed, yes. But constant most of all.
Around dinnertime my nerves were so shot, and my ADHD son so intent on doing me in, that I looked at my poor husband and said, "I'm leaving now. Trust me, it's necessary."
At first, I got in the van by myself. Anna was asleep--finally. Don would only have the three of them. Then I thought better of this, and went back in and grabbed Emily Rose, who is as hyper as can be and could make Daddy crazy without help. I figured I could handle her in her carseat, even in my agitated, overly-fatigued state. Thank God for carseats!
The two of us got McDonald's chocolate chip cookies to calm our (my) nerves, and then we drove all around the farmlands surrounding our housing track.
On our sanity-saving trip we saw a beautiful doe, about 20 grazing horses, a blue heron, two lakes, acres and acres of corn and alfalfa, and many beautiful, well-tended flower gardens--all within a thirty-minute time frame. It was just what I needed. Scenes of nature speak such volumes to me. They remind me that God has a plan--that nothing is accidental. There is order, beauty, perfection--so unlike my parenting, or my home, where new problems keep throwing my efforts--and my nerves--asunder.
I don't quite know why God blessed a nervous-leaning mother with so many hyper-active children. Makes more sense for a very relaxed mother to have such a brood--doesn't it?
It's not misbehavior I'm talking about, exactly. It's high-volume exuberance. A penchant for movement, rather than tabletop activities, or quiet-like pursuits. A penchant for speed, rather than leisure. A penchant for over-excitability, rather than for calm.
I can only trust that He knows what I need--what my children need. It need not make sense to me.
My husband is not perfect, but for all intents and purposes, to me, he's a saint. Just the saint I need. Is he out of full-time work because God knew I needed help with these full-of-life children, in this season? We are basically on our own here. There's no reliable "village" on which to lean. My father and my aunts have their own problems--their own pursuits.
It is what it is. And my personality is what it is. I didn't choose nervousness--it was chosen for me. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, as are my exuberant children.
God, help me learn to celebrate exuberance--rather than run from it. Twenty years from now, I'll be 63 years old, and I'll long for the noise and chaos of my "youth". I know this; I can see the very day, in my mind's eye. The first day of my empty nest. My Anna will be 20 years old.
Don't let me look back with regret, Lord, for what I DIDN'T do, to make the most of every day with these precious children. Take the reins back from ME--the stubborn one--when I so foolishly grab them. Order our days, our hours. And bless us with your Mercy and your Grace, Lord, as always.
Amen.
Anna Grace: "I haven't got time for SLEEP anymore, Mommy. I don't exactly know when the Infant Olympics start, but by golly, I want to be ready. You won't stand in my way now--will you, Mommy? You go ahead and sleep, Mommy, if you can, while I rise at 5:00 a.m. and happily squeal my way through a good ninety minutes of gym time. Don't you and Daddy pay me any mind. I can manage this on my own. I'll give you a holler when morning gym time is over."
Mommy: "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
That's me, primal screaming after three days of 5:00 a.m. risings, and naps that don't occur unless I hold a crying, frustrated, overtired, 7.5-month-old gym fanatic down long enough for her to realize she is exhausted. Then, because she is SO exhausted, I am forced to hold her for her entire nap, without moving a muscle, because otherwise her jumpy, overtired body wakes up over the slightest sound or movement.
A month ago we achieved a very good nap routine that was working for me, finally. I would nurse her, kiss her, put her in her crib, and within ten minutes, she was out.
Yes, I know. This too shall pass. Trouble is, every time something passes, some other trying thing is right on its heels. Constant. That's what life is like when your hyper-active children outnumber your couch-potato children. My ratio is three to one. This life is blessed, charmed, yes. But constant most of all.
Around dinnertime my nerves were so shot, and my ADHD son so intent on doing me in, that I looked at my poor husband and said, "I'm leaving now. Trust me, it's necessary."
At first, I got in the van by myself. Anna was asleep--finally. Don would only have the three of them. Then I thought better of this, and went back in and grabbed Emily Rose, who is as hyper as can be and could make Daddy crazy without help. I figured I could handle her in her carseat, even in my agitated, overly-fatigued state. Thank God for carseats!
The two of us got McDonald's chocolate chip cookies to calm our (my) nerves, and then we drove all around the farmlands surrounding our housing track.
On our sanity-saving trip we saw a beautiful doe, about 20 grazing horses, a blue heron, two lakes, acres and acres of corn and alfalfa, and many beautiful, well-tended flower gardens--all within a thirty-minute time frame. It was just what I needed. Scenes of nature speak such volumes to me. They remind me that God has a plan--that nothing is accidental. There is order, beauty, perfection--so unlike my parenting, or my home, where new problems keep throwing my efforts--and my nerves--asunder.
I don't quite know why God blessed a nervous-leaning mother with so many hyper-active children. Makes more sense for a very relaxed mother to have such a brood--doesn't it?
It's not misbehavior I'm talking about, exactly. It's high-volume exuberance. A penchant for movement, rather than tabletop activities, or quiet-like pursuits. A penchant for speed, rather than leisure. A penchant for over-excitability, rather than for calm.
I can only trust that He knows what I need--what my children need. It need not make sense to me.
My husband is not perfect, but for all intents and purposes, to me, he's a saint. Just the saint I need. Is he out of full-time work because God knew I needed help with these full-of-life children, in this season? We are basically on our own here. There's no reliable "village" on which to lean. My father and my aunts have their own problems--their own pursuits.
It is what it is. And my personality is what it is. I didn't choose nervousness--it was chosen for me. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, as are my exuberant children.
God, help me learn to celebrate exuberance--rather than run from it. Twenty years from now, I'll be 63 years old, and I'll long for the noise and chaos of my "youth". I know this; I can see the very day, in my mind's eye. The first day of my empty nest. My Anna will be 20 years old.
Don't let me look back with regret, Lord, for what I DIDN'T do, to make the most of every day with these precious children. Take the reins back from ME--the stubborn one--when I so foolishly grab them. Order our days, our hours. And bless us with your Mercy and your Grace, Lord, as always.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Never dull around here!
As of late, Emily Rose had been getting out of bed around 6:30 a.m. or 7:00 a.m. and coming directly into our bedroom for quiet morning cuddles. A beautiful thing. That changed two mornings ago. You remember the face cream she was after...and the cheesestick? Well, we planned to lock her door the next night, to avoid another potentially dangerous situation the following morning. Safety gates are useless; she gets over them or pushes them down quite easily.
But perimenopause puts one into foggy brain, just as pregnancy does. So I forgot to lock the door, and besides, I wasn't really comfortable with that solution because how would she get out in case of a fire? And setting our alarm for fifteen minutes before we expected her up wasn't feasible either; we can't get to bed before midnight (chores you know), and after midnight our sleep is interrupted often by Anna. Every minute of sleep counts.
But the fact that she got into the fish oil capsules yesterday morning really drove it home that this could be a matter of life and death. Luckily, they apparently taste horrible--when chewed! Yes, the evidence I found was that she chewed it up, and then must have swallowed the oil, and afterwards put the shell into a paper towel. Nice and neat, see? She could have left the shell sticking to the furniture. I hounded her for fifteen minutes about how many she had sampled, and finally came to the conclusion that it was only one. Stressful way to start the day, don't you think? Never a dull moment, I tell you. And yes, I have now cleared all surfaces of anything remotely dangerous. I'm a slow learner.
So yesterday, I bought the safety doorknob attachment...you know, the thing that is supposed to prevent children from turning door knobs? Well, suffice it to say that the score is now Emily = 2, Parents = 0. Yeah, she's a problem solver, gosh darnit. Problem solving is a wonderful thing when math and science come along in the schooling years....but at two? It's dangerous!
Anna Grace takes after big sister. We don't have any sound/music systems in our house. We could never afford anything except for a boom box. So yesterday I set it up in the living room so I could listen to our Christian station while I sorted and folded socks. The cord was well above Anna's crawling or reaching height...or so I thought. I left the room briefly to distribute socks into bedrooms. When I returned, there was no music playing, and the cord was in Anna's mouth. How she solved the problem of the cord being well above her head and reach, I'll never know. The only reasonable solution is that she pulled up onto a box in the area and had just enough arm strength to get to the cord and fall back down. That girl is not only a problem solver, but a very, very strong girl! She amazes me. Yesterday she mastered not only sitting up tall with a straight back, but also getting into this position from the floor. At seven and a quarter months Anna, you are quite the athletic type!
The newest thing you are working on is standing up. You use your arm strength to get yourself into a touch-your-toes standing-stretch position. I can tell you want to straighten up from there and stand, but you don't yet have the balance or stomach muscles to make it happen. But you try numerous times a day.
In other news, Daddy forgot Emily Rose last night at the church nursery. He was helping in Vacation Bible School and went to the boys' classroom to pick them up and then proceeded to drive home without Emily. This happened after he had just gone in there to check on her before getting the boys. She has been crying again in the nursery, for the last three weeks, after having stopped it about three months ago. We are baffled and stressed about it.
Last Sunday she had a rash on her upper chest, due to irritation from sunscreen. She has the most sensitive skin and almost always has some dermatitis--even though we are careful about not using anything scented and we always buy sensitive-skin products. Anyhow, she was crying on the church worker's lap and got overheated. This fact, along with the rash, made the worker think Emily was sick. She isolated Emily from the rest of the kids and had someone go and get Don from the sanctuary. He was baffled and felt her forehead, which the worker said was "burning up". It wasn't by this time, and Don told the worker that Emily definitely wasn't sick. He didn't mention her nearly constant eczema, as I would have done. The worker then agreed that she didn't seem hot. She asked Emily if she wanted to stay, and of course Emily said no. Don brought her home to me, since I stayed home with the baby that morning, and then he drove back to church. Emily is so active she would never stay put in the sanctuary.
Don took her to the nursery last night while he helped with VBS, so that Emily could "get back in the saddle" and try to get over her fear of the nursery. There is a very kind elderly blind gentleman who works the nursery with his wife during special events like Awana and VBS. Emily loves him, and spent time in his lap hugging him. That helped her fears and crying tremendously, thank the Lord. He isn't in there on Sundays, unfortunately.
Anyhow, back to Emily being forgotten. Daddy came to the door with the boys and I didn't see Emily in her carseat in the van. I said, "WHERE'S EMILY?!!" Don gave me a mildly alarmed look, and just said, "I'll go back and get her!" It's an eight-minute drive, and I was hoping no one was too inconvenienced by the shocking fact that, yes, we forgot our beloved daughter!
Meanwhile, I gave the boys a quick snack and hustled them into their pajamas and supervised the washing up and toothbrushing. They had returned home around 8:50 p.m., and it was now pushing 9:15. Did I mention I hate VBS with as much passion as my children love it? Yes, children get saved by the millions across the country due to VBS. That's a fabulous thing. But by Tuesday night, my children are so excited that they just can't fall asleep...until about 10:00 - 10:30!...leaving us to deal with the behavior issues that ultimately result. Grueling!
Last year we settled on an every other night schedule for VBS, knowing they would miss some fun. This year, Timothy is 5.5 years old, so we thought he could handle it better. But no, he was so excited he didn't fall asleep until 10:15 p.m. last night. Most churches now do it at night, due to all the dual-career families. That irritates me, but I know it's just one hellish week among many other normal weeks. Not really a big deal, and I'm ashamed for being so irritated.
After all, Timothy accepted the Lord during Monday night's VBS, so what in the world am I complaining about? He previously did have a relationship with the Lord, but he's never raised his hand before to a formal altar call. That public acknowledgement is important, and helps prep them for baptism and sharing their testimony when they feel brave enough. Daniel has been a Christian for quite awhile, but still doesn't feel like he's ready for the dunking. We told him he could wait until he feels ready, but that the Lord is always very pleased when we get baptized.
Anyhow, back again to the fact that our beloved daughter was forgotten about.
Daniel: "How COULD Daddy forget Emily? How could he do that!"
Mom: "I don't know." (Then I tried to change the subject.) "Did you have ever so much fun tonight?"
Daniel: "Emily must be crying her eyes out! I can't believe Daddy did that!"
Mom: "Well, didn't you and Timothy forget her as well? You didn't say anything to Daddy on the way home, did you?"
Daniel: "But I'm not the adult! Adults should NEVER forget their kids!"
And there you have it, Blogworld! Daniel is ready to fire us. And he's not even a teenager yet. God help us!
BTW: Emily was not the least traumatized by being forgotten. She seemed pretty unaware, actually.
But perimenopause puts one into foggy brain, just as pregnancy does. So I forgot to lock the door, and besides, I wasn't really comfortable with that solution because how would she get out in case of a fire? And setting our alarm for fifteen minutes before we expected her up wasn't feasible either; we can't get to bed before midnight (chores you know), and after midnight our sleep is interrupted often by Anna. Every minute of sleep counts.
But the fact that she got into the fish oil capsules yesterday morning really drove it home that this could be a matter of life and death. Luckily, they apparently taste horrible--when chewed! Yes, the evidence I found was that she chewed it up, and then must have swallowed the oil, and afterwards put the shell into a paper towel. Nice and neat, see? She could have left the shell sticking to the furniture. I hounded her for fifteen minutes about how many she had sampled, and finally came to the conclusion that it was only one. Stressful way to start the day, don't you think? Never a dull moment, I tell you. And yes, I have now cleared all surfaces of anything remotely dangerous. I'm a slow learner.
So yesterday, I bought the safety doorknob attachment...you know, the thing that is supposed to prevent children from turning door knobs? Well, suffice it to say that the score is now Emily = 2, Parents = 0. Yeah, she's a problem solver, gosh darnit. Problem solving is a wonderful thing when math and science come along in the schooling years....but at two? It's dangerous!
Anna Grace takes after big sister. We don't have any sound/music systems in our house. We could never afford anything except for a boom box. So yesterday I set it up in the living room so I could listen to our Christian station while I sorted and folded socks. The cord was well above Anna's crawling or reaching height...or so I thought. I left the room briefly to distribute socks into bedrooms. When I returned, there was no music playing, and the cord was in Anna's mouth. How she solved the problem of the cord being well above her head and reach, I'll never know. The only reasonable solution is that she pulled up onto a box in the area and had just enough arm strength to get to the cord and fall back down. That girl is not only a problem solver, but a very, very strong girl! She amazes me. Yesterday she mastered not only sitting up tall with a straight back, but also getting into this position from the floor. At seven and a quarter months Anna, you are quite the athletic type!
The newest thing you are working on is standing up. You use your arm strength to get yourself into a touch-your-toes standing-stretch position. I can tell you want to straighten up from there and stand, but you don't yet have the balance or stomach muscles to make it happen. But you try numerous times a day.
In other news, Daddy forgot Emily Rose last night at the church nursery. He was helping in Vacation Bible School and went to the boys' classroom to pick them up and then proceeded to drive home without Emily. This happened after he had just gone in there to check on her before getting the boys. She has been crying again in the nursery, for the last three weeks, after having stopped it about three months ago. We are baffled and stressed about it.
Last Sunday she had a rash on her upper chest, due to irritation from sunscreen. She has the most sensitive skin and almost always has some dermatitis--even though we are careful about not using anything scented and we always buy sensitive-skin products. Anyhow, she was crying on the church worker's lap and got overheated. This fact, along with the rash, made the worker think Emily was sick. She isolated Emily from the rest of the kids and had someone go and get Don from the sanctuary. He was baffled and felt her forehead, which the worker said was "burning up". It wasn't by this time, and Don told the worker that Emily definitely wasn't sick. He didn't mention her nearly constant eczema, as I would have done. The worker then agreed that she didn't seem hot. She asked Emily if she wanted to stay, and of course Emily said no. Don brought her home to me, since I stayed home with the baby that morning, and then he drove back to church. Emily is so active she would never stay put in the sanctuary.
Don took her to the nursery last night while he helped with VBS, so that Emily could "get back in the saddle" and try to get over her fear of the nursery. There is a very kind elderly blind gentleman who works the nursery with his wife during special events like Awana and VBS. Emily loves him, and spent time in his lap hugging him. That helped her fears and crying tremendously, thank the Lord. He isn't in there on Sundays, unfortunately.
Anyhow, back to Emily being forgotten. Daddy came to the door with the boys and I didn't see Emily in her carseat in the van. I said, "WHERE'S EMILY?!!" Don gave me a mildly alarmed look, and just said, "I'll go back and get her!" It's an eight-minute drive, and I was hoping no one was too inconvenienced by the shocking fact that, yes, we forgot our beloved daughter!
Meanwhile, I gave the boys a quick snack and hustled them into their pajamas and supervised the washing up and toothbrushing. They had returned home around 8:50 p.m., and it was now pushing 9:15. Did I mention I hate VBS with as much passion as my children love it? Yes, children get saved by the millions across the country due to VBS. That's a fabulous thing. But by Tuesday night, my children are so excited that they just can't fall asleep...until about 10:00 - 10:30!...leaving us to deal with the behavior issues that ultimately result. Grueling!
Last year we settled on an every other night schedule for VBS, knowing they would miss some fun. This year, Timothy is 5.5 years old, so we thought he could handle it better. But no, he was so excited he didn't fall asleep until 10:15 p.m. last night. Most churches now do it at night, due to all the dual-career families. That irritates me, but I know it's just one hellish week among many other normal weeks. Not really a big deal, and I'm ashamed for being so irritated.
After all, Timothy accepted the Lord during Monday night's VBS, so what in the world am I complaining about? He previously did have a relationship with the Lord, but he's never raised his hand before to a formal altar call. That public acknowledgement is important, and helps prep them for baptism and sharing their testimony when they feel brave enough. Daniel has been a Christian for quite awhile, but still doesn't feel like he's ready for the dunking. We told him he could wait until he feels ready, but that the Lord is always very pleased when we get baptized.
Anyhow, back again to the fact that our beloved daughter was forgotten about.
Daniel: "How COULD Daddy forget Emily? How could he do that!"
Mom: "I don't know." (Then I tried to change the subject.) "Did you have ever so much fun tonight?"
Daniel: "Emily must be crying her eyes out! I can't believe Daddy did that!"
Mom: "Well, didn't you and Timothy forget her as well? You didn't say anything to Daddy on the way home, did you?"
Daniel: "But I'm not the adult! Adults should NEVER forget their kids!"
And there you have it, Blogworld! Daniel is ready to fire us. And he's not even a teenager yet. God help us!
BTW: Emily was not the least traumatized by being forgotten. She seemed pretty unaware, actually.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
You Wouldn't Believe It!
Emily Rose awoke at 7 a.m. this morning, after having fallen asleep around 9:00 p.m., which gave her about an hour less nighttime sleep than she probably needs at this point. She used to get 12 hours of nighttime sleep, up to a month ago. Anyhow, this morning I added five hours to the 7 a.m., and figured she would be ready for her nap around 12:00 p.m. By the time I finished the routine it was 12:15, and I suspect she was asleep by 12:30 p.m.
She awoke at 2:00 p.m., and I added five hours to that, figuring she would be tired around 7 p.m. She is very active, gets lots of daily exercise, and has recently not had enough sleep; I think the five hours was a reasonable estimate. Her bedtime routine ended later than I'd hoped, at around 7:30 p.m. I shut her door as usual and went about putting Anna Grace down in my bedroom.
Meanwhile, Don was in the playroom doing Bible Study and story time with the boys. Emily got out of her crib about three times and went into the playroom, where Don intercepted her and put her back. I thought she had fallen asleep, since I didn't hear any of this.
Around 8:50 p.m., I finally got Anna to sleep and went out into the hall, where I heard Rose getting out of her crib. I went in there and found large and small stains of Desitin in various spots on the carpet, all over the crib, all over a few books, all over her face, and on a few stuffed toys. As well, she was naked from the waist down, and had peed all over her crib sheets, and on her pillow.
What I did NOT do was take this all in stride. After all, we'd been through a few frustrating weeks of sleep battles, with a child who had previously been a fantastic sleeper! I looked up to the heavens and screamed in anger and frustration. The Desitin, I knew, would ruin the carpet, but what was more frustrating was why her body hadn't shut down for sleep, after having been in the room close to 90 minutes, following a loving and soothing bedtime routine. She had been awake since 2 p.m.! What in the world is going on with her body?!!
We hadn't wanted to get into a spanking pattern over this situation, since that might require multiple spankings--for consistency sake. We can't spank the first time she does it and not the rest of the times; that would create more problems than it would solve. We both hate the thought of a child's day ending in multiple spankings. However, we did spank her for the Desitin mess.
I know the arising of sudden sleep issues is a very common problem with two-year-olds. That doesn't make it any easier to deal with. I'm at a loss right now, and wondering why tiredness isn't just taking over. Is she too hyperactive to stay still long enough to fall asleep as usual? Is she falling asleep around 9:00 p.m. because that is when it is close to being dark? And if so, why won't her body sleep until about 8:oo a.m. or so? Don has gone in there and laid on the room's queen bed in the morning, trying to get her to sleep longer after she initially comes out. It doesn't work.
I researched my Desitin stain-removal options, and tried rubbing alcohol, followed by Shout stain remover, followed by Dawn dish detergent. It looks better, but the carpet stains are not gone.
I also researched staying-in-bed issues for two-year-olds, and wasn't satisfied with any of the suggestions. She is too young for a sticker chart, or for waiting for a morning reward. We've already tried the broken record, keep-putting-them-back-in-bed routine, which would probably be close to the standard suggestion from most sleep experts.
We've thought of making her bedtime the same as the boys, so the whole house settles at the same time, and she doesn't feel like she is missing anything. This complicates story time, and if we choose this route, we'll have to make sure the boys have another story time during the day, using higher-level books.
Toddlers need 12 to 14 hours of sleep per day, and school-age children need 10 to 11. Ideally, at our house we need Emily to be falling asleep at 8:00 pm, waking in the morning between 7 and 8, and napping for two hours between 12:00 and 2:00 p.m. And the ideal scenario for the boys is falling asleep at 8:30 p.m., and waking around 7:oo--which is what they usually do.
We will pray tonight about trying a week of spanking, and we should also convert her crib to a toddler bed, to avoid any broken bones from her climbing out. Why not go through the dreaded bed-change transition while we're at it? My mom recently told me that my three-year-old nephew broke his arm from climbing over a safety gate. I sure don't need an emergency room visit!
Generally, I don't think buying new bedding helps with this issue, but I might price some Dora sheets/comforter for toddler beds, just in case.
Please, leave me a comment about how you lived through this same thing, and now have a peaceful household at bedtime, and a well-rested toddler/preschooler! Emily is 30 months old, which I think makes her a preschooler now. Thank you!
She awoke at 2:00 p.m., and I added five hours to that, figuring she would be tired around 7 p.m. She is very active, gets lots of daily exercise, and has recently not had enough sleep; I think the five hours was a reasonable estimate. Her bedtime routine ended later than I'd hoped, at around 7:30 p.m. I shut her door as usual and went about putting Anna Grace down in my bedroom.
Meanwhile, Don was in the playroom doing Bible Study and story time with the boys. Emily got out of her crib about three times and went into the playroom, where Don intercepted her and put her back. I thought she had fallen asleep, since I didn't hear any of this.
Around 8:50 p.m., I finally got Anna to sleep and went out into the hall, where I heard Rose getting out of her crib. I went in there and found large and small stains of Desitin in various spots on the carpet, all over the crib, all over a few books, all over her face, and on a few stuffed toys. As well, she was naked from the waist down, and had peed all over her crib sheets, and on her pillow.
What I did NOT do was take this all in stride. After all, we'd been through a few frustrating weeks of sleep battles, with a child who had previously been a fantastic sleeper! I looked up to the heavens and screamed in anger and frustration. The Desitin, I knew, would ruin the carpet, but what was more frustrating was why her body hadn't shut down for sleep, after having been in the room close to 90 minutes, following a loving and soothing bedtime routine. She had been awake since 2 p.m.! What in the world is going on with her body?!!
We hadn't wanted to get into a spanking pattern over this situation, since that might require multiple spankings--for consistency sake. We can't spank the first time she does it and not the rest of the times; that would create more problems than it would solve. We both hate the thought of a child's day ending in multiple spankings. However, we did spank her for the Desitin mess.
I know the arising of sudden sleep issues is a very common problem with two-year-olds. That doesn't make it any easier to deal with. I'm at a loss right now, and wondering why tiredness isn't just taking over. Is she too hyperactive to stay still long enough to fall asleep as usual? Is she falling asleep around 9:00 p.m. because that is when it is close to being dark? And if so, why won't her body sleep until about 8:oo a.m. or so? Don has gone in there and laid on the room's queen bed in the morning, trying to get her to sleep longer after she initially comes out. It doesn't work.
I researched my Desitin stain-removal options, and tried rubbing alcohol, followed by Shout stain remover, followed by Dawn dish detergent. It looks better, but the carpet stains are not gone.
I also researched staying-in-bed issues for two-year-olds, and wasn't satisfied with any of the suggestions. She is too young for a sticker chart, or for waiting for a morning reward. We've already tried the broken record, keep-putting-them-back-in-bed routine, which would probably be close to the standard suggestion from most sleep experts.
We've thought of making her bedtime the same as the boys, so the whole house settles at the same time, and she doesn't feel like she is missing anything. This complicates story time, and if we choose this route, we'll have to make sure the boys have another story time during the day, using higher-level books.
Toddlers need 12 to 14 hours of sleep per day, and school-age children need 10 to 11. Ideally, at our house we need Emily to be falling asleep at 8:00 pm, waking in the morning between 7 and 8, and napping for two hours between 12:00 and 2:00 p.m. And the ideal scenario for the boys is falling asleep at 8:30 p.m., and waking around 7:oo--which is what they usually do.
We will pray tonight about trying a week of spanking, and we should also convert her crib to a toddler bed, to avoid any broken bones from her climbing out. Why not go through the dreaded bed-change transition while we're at it? My mom recently told me that my three-year-old nephew broke his arm from climbing over a safety gate. I sure don't need an emergency room visit!
Generally, I don't think buying new bedding helps with this issue, but I might price some Dora sheets/comforter for toddler beds, just in case.
Please, leave me a comment about how you lived through this same thing, and now have a peaceful household at bedtime, and a well-rested toddler/preschooler! Emily is 30 months old, which I think makes her a preschooler now. Thank you!
Kids and the Sandman
This month I've been chronicling my efforts to infuse more outward joy into my day. This outward joy is not to be confused with my inward joy, which comes from the knowledge and assurance of my salvation in Christ, and from my relationship with Christ. That joy floods me whenever my favorite praise songs come on, and is powerful evidence of my spiritual transformation.
I wrote of my made-up joy songs; I would start singing whenever there was an incident threatening to rob me of joy, such as a major spill or a major behavior issue. Recently, Joy's post about her household triggers made me realize that I need to identify my own "triggers", so that I can pray through them, or avoid them altogether.
My joy-song method became counter-productive around here; they began causing the children to go into hyperactive, loud frenzies, from which they had trouble "coming down". One of the problems with having hyperactive kids is that when things get really happy or loosey goosey, you spend the next hour trying to get the household back down to earth, which usually involves one or more of them receiving consequences for not controlling themselves. While Daniel appears to be the only "officially hyperactive" one, Emily and Anna are close seconds. Any child between two and three will experience their highest lifetime activity level, according to the experts; so the jury is still out on Emily Rose's hyperactivity--time will tell more.
Anna is about the most wiggly baby you'll find; at six months, she is already crawling two steps or paces. And it takes two adults to bath her! You can't eat with her in your lap, due to her wiggling. Getting the food to your mouth while still keeping her in your lap is impossible. It is VERY common for there to be more than one ADD/ADHD child in a family, and also common for one or both parents to be similarly affected. I secretly think it's Don and he secretly thinks it's me. LOL
But that's digressing. As I read more about the struggles of other (homeschooling) women in regards to keeping a tidy house, I am getting to a place of acceptance about untidiness. That's not to say I won't keep working on it though. It is less of a trigger--although sticky, muddy floors will probably always get to me, and I'll probably continue to be on my hands and knees with wet paper towels 5 - 10 times a day.
One huge trigger that has followed me from the day I became a mom, is my preoccupation with my children's sleep patterns. Right now, Emily is still getting out of her crib before bedtime and before her nap, leading to less overall sleep. No, she isn't particularly cranky--something that the experts point out as a sign of too little sleep. And no, she isn't any MORE hyper than before--another sign of too little sleep. Yet she is getting less than the recommended sleep for her age, and less than she appeared to need even a month ago. We've been consistent in how we've dealt with it, but it continues. Could be the light coming into the room earlier than before, but there is little I can do about that. She has vertical blinds, which keep it pretty dark regardless.
Daniel is currently very excited about the fireflies, and rightly so. The trouble we have every year, from mid-June until the end of July, is that they light up around 9 p.m., and Daniel functions best when he is asleep by 8:30 p.m. We compromise and allow him to catch them every few nights, for fifteen minutes, after he has had his bath and his teeth brushed and his story time is done, leaving only prayer time and tuck in--which still puts him asleep at about 9:40 p.m. He's too excited to sleep before that, apparently from watching the flies light up his bedside. And what's the fun of catching them if one can't watch them do their lantern magic? I get all that. This is the stuff of which memories are made; we'd best not interfere too much.
The boys' sleep (and mine, Don's and Anna's) is also affected right now because when Emily gets out of her crib in the morning, she goes into the boys room and gets into bed with Daniel for a nice cuddle, (just precious--I agree) waking both boys, if they weren't already awake. She used to wake up around 8 or 8:30, but now it's between 6:30 and 7:00, meaning she should be asleep by 7:30 to 8:00 p.m. the night before. She's averaging 9:00 p.m., due to her continually getting out of her crib.
Anna's sleep is always affected when she has a cold, as she does now. The last few nights she has been up every hour or so. The mucous is so loose that the bulb suction does her no good; it only sends her into screaming fits.
All this to say that never-ending sleep issues is enough to drive me into a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad mood (or decade). This is likely to continue until Anna is nearly seven, so I definitely need to learn to disengage emotionally from sleep issues. After doing my part, I have to let it go. Instead, I stew, I pray, I research, I plot, I stress. And yet still, sleep issues continue to come up--different season, different issue--but there is always something.
And guess what? Vacation Bible School is coming up. It goes until 8:30 p.m., for five consecutive nights. Just shoot me!
And this post will now have to be labeled--to be continued. Anna Grace has been in here with me during her morning nap, from which she has awakened no less than three times! Time to channel the sandman once again.
Have a good day! I'll be busy over here trying to disengage emotionally from all the failed, my-nose-is-too-snotty baby naps.
And hanging on to this verse:
A cheerful heart is good medicine. Proverbs 17:22
I wrote of my made-up joy songs; I would start singing whenever there was an incident threatening to rob me of joy, such as a major spill or a major behavior issue. Recently, Joy's post about her household triggers made me realize that I need to identify my own "triggers", so that I can pray through them, or avoid them altogether.
My joy-song method became counter-productive around here; they began causing the children to go into hyperactive, loud frenzies, from which they had trouble "coming down". One of the problems with having hyperactive kids is that when things get really happy or loosey goosey, you spend the next hour trying to get the household back down to earth, which usually involves one or more of them receiving consequences for not controlling themselves. While Daniel appears to be the only "officially hyperactive" one, Emily and Anna are close seconds. Any child between two and three will experience their highest lifetime activity level, according to the experts; so the jury is still out on Emily Rose's hyperactivity--time will tell more.
Anna is about the most wiggly baby you'll find; at six months, she is already crawling two steps or paces. And it takes two adults to bath her! You can't eat with her in your lap, due to her wiggling. Getting the food to your mouth while still keeping her in your lap is impossible. It is VERY common for there to be more than one ADD/ADHD child in a family, and also common for one or both parents to be similarly affected. I secretly think it's Don and he secretly thinks it's me. LOL
But that's digressing. As I read more about the struggles of other (homeschooling) women in regards to keeping a tidy house, I am getting to a place of acceptance about untidiness. That's not to say I won't keep working on it though. It is less of a trigger--although sticky, muddy floors will probably always get to me, and I'll probably continue to be on my hands and knees with wet paper towels 5 - 10 times a day.
One huge trigger that has followed me from the day I became a mom, is my preoccupation with my children's sleep patterns. Right now, Emily is still getting out of her crib before bedtime and before her nap, leading to less overall sleep. No, she isn't particularly cranky--something that the experts point out as a sign of too little sleep. And no, she isn't any MORE hyper than before--another sign of too little sleep. Yet she is getting less than the recommended sleep for her age, and less than she appeared to need even a month ago. We've been consistent in how we've dealt with it, but it continues. Could be the light coming into the room earlier than before, but there is little I can do about that. She has vertical blinds, which keep it pretty dark regardless.
Daniel is currently very excited about the fireflies, and rightly so. The trouble we have every year, from mid-June until the end of July, is that they light up around 9 p.m., and Daniel functions best when he is asleep by 8:30 p.m. We compromise and allow him to catch them every few nights, for fifteen minutes, after he has had his bath and his teeth brushed and his story time is done, leaving only prayer time and tuck in--which still puts him asleep at about 9:40 p.m. He's too excited to sleep before that, apparently from watching the flies light up his bedside. And what's the fun of catching them if one can't watch them do their lantern magic? I get all that. This is the stuff of which memories are made; we'd best not interfere too much.
The boys' sleep (and mine, Don's and Anna's) is also affected right now because when Emily gets out of her crib in the morning, she goes into the boys room and gets into bed with Daniel for a nice cuddle, (just precious--I agree) waking both boys, if they weren't already awake. She used to wake up around 8 or 8:30, but now it's between 6:30 and 7:00, meaning she should be asleep by 7:30 to 8:00 p.m. the night before. She's averaging 9:00 p.m., due to her continually getting out of her crib.
Anna's sleep is always affected when she has a cold, as she does now. The last few nights she has been up every hour or so. The mucous is so loose that the bulb suction does her no good; it only sends her into screaming fits.
All this to say that never-ending sleep issues is enough to drive me into a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad mood (or decade). This is likely to continue until Anna is nearly seven, so I definitely need to learn to disengage emotionally from sleep issues. After doing my part, I have to let it go. Instead, I stew, I pray, I research, I plot, I stress. And yet still, sleep issues continue to come up--different season, different issue--but there is always something.
And guess what? Vacation Bible School is coming up. It goes until 8:30 p.m., for five consecutive nights. Just shoot me!
And this post will now have to be labeled--to be continued. Anna Grace has been in here with me during her morning nap, from which she has awakened no less than three times! Time to channel the sandman once again.
Have a good day! I'll be busy over here trying to disengage emotionally from all the failed, my-nose-is-too-snotty baby naps.
And hanging on to this verse:
A cheerful heart is good medicine. Proverbs 17:22
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Planning for the Next Year
A number of homeschooling moms are working on organization for the new school year, and for their homes. Same thing over here. I'm praying about and researching all these same huge issues. I came across a post on the Snail blog about this very thing. Boy, I'm telling ya--you've got to read this woman's account of her struggle to manage the home. Made me want to kiss her, I tell ya. You mean I'm not the only lame woman with a house that is NEVER tidy? That is, unless someone is coming to dinner, and I've ignored the kids and terrorized the family in my mad dash to make something disgusting into something warm and inviting?
She also gives a fantastic review of a very comprehensive planner, which includes monthly menus.
The Snail's Trail: TOS Homeschool Crew Review: 2009 Schoolhouse Planner
Another good homeschooling idea has to do with workboxes, which you can read about here, at the Life of a Dairy Queen blog.
Another post about home management, in relation to the home triggers that threaten to do us in, can be found here, at the Memoria Arts blog.
She also gives a fantastic review of a very comprehensive planner, which includes monthly menus.
The Snail's Trail: TOS Homeschool Crew Review: 2009 Schoolhouse Planner
Another good homeschooling idea has to do with workboxes, which you can read about here, at the Life of a Dairy Queen blog.
Another post about home management, in relation to the home triggers that threaten to do us in, can be found here, at the Memoria Arts blog.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
A PORTION OF MY DAY
Emily Rose is waking up a little earlier everyday. She's gone from her standard 8:30 a.m. wake up, to a barely respectable 6:45 a.m. Like my friend Jess, I suspect it is the light coming into the room too early. Room darkening shades--when we can afford them--are a necessary purchase, I fear. For now, dinner, baths and bedtime have been moved to earlier times.
Don works two part-time cleaning jobs. He was gone a good portion of the day today--giving me a good idea of how things will be when he begins school and study time away from home.
Here is a typical glimpse:
3:30 - Time for Anna's nap. I nurse her, put her in her crib, and then go to the playroom to check on Emily Rose and the boys. Emily has a number two in her trainer, which I immediately smell. I take her into her bedroom for a clean-up and change. She wiggles and the messy diaper makes a mess on the changing pad. I move her off of it and roll it up to be washed later. I finish the change.
3:45 - Put Emily back in the playroom (which is gated at this time), put soiled linens on top of washer, wash hands. I go to check on Anna, who has not yet fallen asleep. I pat her a few times, reach down and kiss her, tell her I love her, and exit to check on the others.
Finding that Emily Rose successfully climbed over the gate, I suggest she play with her teacups and some water at the kitchen table. She happily agrees. I get it set up for her, put her in her booster seat, and buckle her in, so she can't escape and get into trouble while I check on Anna. Then I go check on Anna again.
4:00 - Anna has not fallen asleep. Her nap is now 30 minutes late. I contemplate what to do.
Meanwhile, the boys ask to go outside, and I say yes. I help them find their hats. I notice that Emily has poured her water all over the table, and that her shorts and shirt are wet. I pick her up and take off her wet clothes, noticing that her trainer again is soiled, which is a very unusual pattern for her.
4:15 - I change Emily again, and get her ready to play outside. While I do that, I notice Timothy is out without his hat. I go outside to give it to him, while Emily tries to put her shoes on herself. I quickly go check Anna, and find she has soiled her diaper and clothes. I change her, deposit soiled clothes on top of washer, wash my hands, kiss her, and give her the binky.
Then I let Emily outside, first checking that the fence gate is closed and locked. While I am briefly out there, Daniel tells me that Timothy poured out most of a $9 bottle of sunscreen onto the lawn--just for fun, apparently. I am livid. I pull him in and put him to bed, telling him that I won't buy popsicles for him for three weeks, as that would equal the total cost of the sunscreen.
Daniel didn't tell me this right away, but pouring out the sunscreen was his idea. He is feeling guilty, but not ready to tell me. This is all unbeknownst to me, since Timothy didn't mention it being Daniel's idea--not that I gave him a chance to mention anything. His consequence was very swift, since I was so angry at the senselessness of his act.
Daniel is feeling guilty enough that he no longer wants to be outside.
I can now hear the baby crying, so I tell Daniel and Emily that I must rock Anna to sleep, since she is now an hour late for her nap. I tell them they must go to the playroom. I put up two tension gates (one on top of the other), in an attempt to keep Emily Rose in the playroom, which I peruse for dangers first.
4:30 - I go to get Anna, and find her freshly-donned outfit covered in spit-up, which has also soiled the sheets. I wipe her with a warm washcloth, change her, take off the bedding, and go to rock her--depositing the soiled linen on the washer first.
4:40 - I rock Anna, all the while praying that Emily stays in the playroom with Daniel and that I don't hear any ruckus in there. Daddy took the boys to the library earlier in the day, so they happen to be watching a Magic School Bus video, which I hope engages Emily long enough for Anna is fall asleep. Anna is transferring better to the crib now from the rocker, so I anticipate putting her there after about fifteen minutes of rocking.
However, since she is now overtired, she thrashes and cries for twenty-five minutes before falling asleep. She has no interest in nursing again, perhaps because of the teeth she is working on right now. Once she is asleep, I plead with the Lord that the other two stay engaged so that I can transfer Anna to the crib without mishap. But no, Daniel decides to let Emily out, and comes to me and says that he will watch Emily. Ha! Daniel is no babysitter! I am livid, and I give him my meanest look, and tell him to take her back immediately, and try to engage her with a story while I transfer Anna to the crib. I use my looks, and keep my voice at a whisper, so as not to wake Anna.
Daniel gets the message, and I am able to transfer Anna successfully.
I now have my second migraine of the day, and it isn't time yet for another dose of Excedrin. I chastise myself for getting so hungry and thirsty, which probably caused the second migraine-- although I know there was no opportunity to eat during the past couple hours, and barely time to drink.
The above is how it typically goes when I am by myself. It is extremely difficult and stressful, and I have a hard time smiling or being light-hearted with the kids. There are constantly things that must be taken care of NOW, either because of safety, or because of maintaining proper hygiene.
Meanwhile, the dishes don't get done, and the laundry either doesn't get started, or it doesn't get finished--until after bedtime. I watch the clock, counting down the time until Don will be home and I'll have help. He has had all four of them by himself a few times only, but that is all it took for him to understand how gruelling it can be.
I spoke to the Lord the whole day, and tried hard to listen to his voice. Some things came to my mind that will make things a bit easier.
- Run everything like a daycare, with schedules for meals, snacks, bathroom time, outside time, free time, lesson time, storytime, activity time, quiet time, etc. This predictability will cut down on behavior issues and condense my clean-up times. They will have much less freedom, but overall things will be safer, and they'll end up getting more attention from me, rather than me just following after them and essentially just cleaning up disasters and putting out fires.
We had such a schedule before Anna Grace was born--although not nearly so regimented.
God will have to help with the potty training and the spit-up problem, since they both take up a whole lot of time and energy--not to mention patience. He will also have to help Anna fall asleep on time, so that she doesn't get cranky and overtired. She is doing better overall--notwithstanding this teething period. The main problem is that she needs at least one nap that is a full two hours, and she never sleeps more than 50 minutes on her own, necessitating at least one hour of rocking to finish one of her naps--most likely the nap that coincides with Emily's. This will have to be quiet activity or TV time for the boys.
Anyhow, I'll figure it out, as long as I keep talking to God--asking for answers and patience. It is likely to be difficult like this until Emily stops getting into things, which I remember occurs around 36 to 42 months old. By then of course, the baby will be getting into things.
COUNT IT ALL JOY!
Don works two part-time cleaning jobs. He was gone a good portion of the day today--giving me a good idea of how things will be when he begins school and study time away from home.
Here is a typical glimpse:
3:30 - Time for Anna's nap. I nurse her, put her in her crib, and then go to the playroom to check on Emily Rose and the boys. Emily has a number two in her trainer, which I immediately smell. I take her into her bedroom for a clean-up and change. She wiggles and the messy diaper makes a mess on the changing pad. I move her off of it and roll it up to be washed later. I finish the change.
3:45 - Put Emily back in the playroom (which is gated at this time), put soiled linens on top of washer, wash hands. I go to check on Anna, who has not yet fallen asleep. I pat her a few times, reach down and kiss her, tell her I love her, and exit to check on the others.
Finding that Emily Rose successfully climbed over the gate, I suggest she play with her teacups and some water at the kitchen table. She happily agrees. I get it set up for her, put her in her booster seat, and buckle her in, so she can't escape and get into trouble while I check on Anna. Then I go check on Anna again.
4:00 - Anna has not fallen asleep. Her nap is now 30 minutes late. I contemplate what to do.
Meanwhile, the boys ask to go outside, and I say yes. I help them find their hats. I notice that Emily has poured her water all over the table, and that her shorts and shirt are wet. I pick her up and take off her wet clothes, noticing that her trainer again is soiled, which is a very unusual pattern for her.
4:15 - I change Emily again, and get her ready to play outside. While I do that, I notice Timothy is out without his hat. I go outside to give it to him, while Emily tries to put her shoes on herself. I quickly go check Anna, and find she has soiled her diaper and clothes. I change her, deposit soiled clothes on top of washer, wash my hands, kiss her, and give her the binky.
Then I let Emily outside, first checking that the fence gate is closed and locked. While I am briefly out there, Daniel tells me that Timothy poured out most of a $9 bottle of sunscreen onto the lawn--just for fun, apparently. I am livid. I pull him in and put him to bed, telling him that I won't buy popsicles for him for three weeks, as that would equal the total cost of the sunscreen.
Daniel didn't tell me this right away, but pouring out the sunscreen was his idea. He is feeling guilty, but not ready to tell me. This is all unbeknownst to me, since Timothy didn't mention it being Daniel's idea--not that I gave him a chance to mention anything. His consequence was very swift, since I was so angry at the senselessness of his act.
Daniel is feeling guilty enough that he no longer wants to be outside.
I can now hear the baby crying, so I tell Daniel and Emily that I must rock Anna to sleep, since she is now an hour late for her nap. I tell them they must go to the playroom. I put up two tension gates (one on top of the other), in an attempt to keep Emily Rose in the playroom, which I peruse for dangers first.
4:30 - I go to get Anna, and find her freshly-donned outfit covered in spit-up, which has also soiled the sheets. I wipe her with a warm washcloth, change her, take off the bedding, and go to rock her--depositing the soiled linen on the washer first.
4:40 - I rock Anna, all the while praying that Emily stays in the playroom with Daniel and that I don't hear any ruckus in there. Daddy took the boys to the library earlier in the day, so they happen to be watching a Magic School Bus video, which I hope engages Emily long enough for Anna is fall asleep. Anna is transferring better to the crib now from the rocker, so I anticipate putting her there after about fifteen minutes of rocking.
However, since she is now overtired, she thrashes and cries for twenty-five minutes before falling asleep. She has no interest in nursing again, perhaps because of the teeth she is working on right now. Once she is asleep, I plead with the Lord that the other two stay engaged so that I can transfer Anna to the crib without mishap. But no, Daniel decides to let Emily out, and comes to me and says that he will watch Emily. Ha! Daniel is no babysitter! I am livid, and I give him my meanest look, and tell him to take her back immediately, and try to engage her with a story while I transfer Anna to the crib. I use my looks, and keep my voice at a whisper, so as not to wake Anna.
Daniel gets the message, and I am able to transfer Anna successfully.
I now have my second migraine of the day, and it isn't time yet for another dose of Excedrin. I chastise myself for getting so hungry and thirsty, which probably caused the second migraine-- although I know there was no opportunity to eat during the past couple hours, and barely time to drink.
The above is how it typically goes when I am by myself. It is extremely difficult and stressful, and I have a hard time smiling or being light-hearted with the kids. There are constantly things that must be taken care of NOW, either because of safety, or because of maintaining proper hygiene.
Meanwhile, the dishes don't get done, and the laundry either doesn't get started, or it doesn't get finished--until after bedtime. I watch the clock, counting down the time until Don will be home and I'll have help. He has had all four of them by himself a few times only, but that is all it took for him to understand how gruelling it can be.
I spoke to the Lord the whole day, and tried hard to listen to his voice. Some things came to my mind that will make things a bit easier.
- Run everything like a daycare, with schedules for meals, snacks, bathroom time, outside time, free time, lesson time, storytime, activity time, quiet time, etc. This predictability will cut down on behavior issues and condense my clean-up times. They will have much less freedom, but overall things will be safer, and they'll end up getting more attention from me, rather than me just following after them and essentially just cleaning up disasters and putting out fires.
We had such a schedule before Anna Grace was born--although not nearly so regimented.
God will have to help with the potty training and the spit-up problem, since they both take up a whole lot of time and energy--not to mention patience. He will also have to help Anna fall asleep on time, so that she doesn't get cranky and overtired. She is doing better overall--notwithstanding this teething period. The main problem is that she needs at least one nap that is a full two hours, and she never sleeps more than 50 minutes on her own, necessitating at least one hour of rocking to finish one of her naps--most likely the nap that coincides with Emily's. This will have to be quiet activity or TV time for the boys.
Anyhow, I'll figure it out, as long as I keep talking to God--asking for answers and patience. It is likely to be difficult like this until Emily stops getting into things, which I remember occurs around 36 to 42 months old. By then of course, the baby will be getting into things.
COUNT IT ALL JOY!
Friday, June 5, 2009
WHATEVER!
This morning presented the most challenge yet to my rejuvenated, joy-seeking heart.
A carpet steamer was rented to deal with our bedroom's vomit smell, which was acquired courtesy of Daniel's migraine, if you remember. We finished up the cleaning yesterday and returned the steamer. This morning, Emily Rose picked up the remote-control truck my mother bought for Daniel during her recent visit. The boys had taken it out on a wet, rainy day, and it somehow acquired watery mud, which leaked onto the freshly steam-cleaned playroom carpet as she picked it up.
Ordinarily this wouldn't be a problem, as the carpet is very tightly woven and almost anything comes off of it with spot remover and some light blotting. However, the sprayer went out on the spot remover can, and I couldn't get the stain up, necessitating a trip to the store--delaying all the other things I need to do. This annoyance is occurring in the midst of my efforts to consolidate store trips so that they interfere less with our schooling and other routines.
My husband, a prolific milk drinker (I switched him from whole milk to skim when we got married....how's that for submission? ha ha), is drinking even more milk than usual, presumably close to two gallons in 2.5 days, which is also messing up my plans to consolidate errands. Actually--joking aside--he does like that I look out for his health.
So my joy songs were less enthusiastic. But it still came to my mind--within about three minutes of the annoyances--that a joy song was called for. I'm getting there.
The key to daily joy in the midst of raising messy young'uns, is to NOT be especially attached to any of your "plans". Our motto almost has to be...WHATEVER!
A carpet steamer was rented to deal with our bedroom's vomit smell, which was acquired courtesy of Daniel's migraine, if you remember. We finished up the cleaning yesterday and returned the steamer. This morning, Emily Rose picked up the remote-control truck my mother bought for Daniel during her recent visit. The boys had taken it out on a wet, rainy day, and it somehow acquired watery mud, which leaked onto the freshly steam-cleaned playroom carpet as she picked it up.
Ordinarily this wouldn't be a problem, as the carpet is very tightly woven and almost anything comes off of it with spot remover and some light blotting. However, the sprayer went out on the spot remover can, and I couldn't get the stain up, necessitating a trip to the store--delaying all the other things I need to do. This annoyance is occurring in the midst of my efforts to consolidate store trips so that they interfere less with our schooling and other routines.
My husband, a prolific milk drinker (I switched him from whole milk to skim when we got married....how's that for submission? ha ha), is drinking even more milk than usual, presumably close to two gallons in 2.5 days, which is also messing up my plans to consolidate errands. Actually--joking aside--he does like that I look out for his health.
So my joy songs were less enthusiastic. But it still came to my mind--within about three minutes of the annoyances--that a joy song was called for. I'm getting there.
The key to daily joy in the midst of raising messy young'uns, is to NOT be especially attached to any of your "plans". Our motto almost has to be...WHATEVER!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Ode to the Messes
Every time someone spilled something today, I rolled my eyes as usual, but then I stopped short. I remembered to COAT IT IN JOY! I raised my hands to the Lord, and belted out a little made-up song:
"Count it all joy joy joy!
That life is so messy, messy, messy!
Dance in the mess!
Praise the mess!
Jump in the mess!
Oh, yeah!
Sing with me now!
Count it all joy, joy, joy!
That life is so messy, messy, messy!
Oh, yeah!"
You know, I actually felt very joyful after singing it about three times. My family didn't know what to think at first, but then they giggled. Or at least, the kids did. Emily Rose kept singing "joy, joy, joy" the rest of the day.
Daddy looked at me like it had finally happened. His somber face said, "She's flipped! I knew we shouldn't have had four kids! Now what am I going to do?"
He'll come around. He isn't prone to silliness, but the sight of our two-year-old running all over the house, raising up her hands, and singing "Joy, joy, joy"....well...that'll put anyone in a good mood.
So go ahead, do it at your house! Sing a joyful sung unto the messes!
"Count it all joy joy joy!
That life is so messy, messy, messy!
Dance in the mess!
Praise the mess!
Jump in the mess!
Oh, yeah!
Sing with me now!
Count it all joy, joy, joy!
That life is so messy, messy, messy!
Oh, yeah!"
You know, I actually felt very joyful after singing it about three times. My family didn't know what to think at first, but then they giggled. Or at least, the kids did. Emily Rose kept singing "joy, joy, joy" the rest of the day.
Daddy looked at me like it had finally happened. His somber face said, "She's flipped! I knew we shouldn't have had four kids! Now what am I going to do?"
He'll come around. He isn't prone to silliness, but the sight of our two-year-old running all over the house, raising up her hands, and singing "Joy, joy, joy"....well...that'll put anyone in a good mood.
So go ahead, do it at your house! Sing a joyful sung unto the messes!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Diary of a Routine?
Perhaps I should ask the Flylady how I can stick to a routine when random events are just itching to throw me off. In the last 36 hours:
- The water heater went out.
- Daniel had another unexplained vomiting incident. I suspect migraines; before I thought it was post-nasal drip irritation. I believe this is the sixth incident in the last year.
-I now have an odor problem to solve in my bedroom, which is where he decided to vomit.
-Don accidentally turned off the gas to the furnace while we were dealing with the water heater, and today he can't get it to stay lit; the house is 66 degrees.
-I learned my drivers license expired on my birthday, and I've been driving on it for over two months. Things need to slow down here so I can escape to go renew it.
-Because we're thrown off by all the broken things, Daniel is going high as a kite on us; he can't deal with change.
-Rosey has decided to start getting out of her crib for naps. That one won't be so easy to solve; continually putting her back takes up a good portion of her naptime, meaning she sleeps too late and it messes up her nighttime sleep.
We'll figure it all out, but in the meantime, I'm irritated at the FlyLady for assuming routines are so easy!
And yes, I will try to find restorative time with the Lord today. I quite obviously need it.
- The water heater went out.
- Daniel had another unexplained vomiting incident. I suspect migraines; before I thought it was post-nasal drip irritation. I believe this is the sixth incident in the last year.
-I now have an odor problem to solve in my bedroom, which is where he decided to vomit.
-Don accidentally turned off the gas to the furnace while we were dealing with the water heater, and today he can't get it to stay lit; the house is 66 degrees.
-I learned my drivers license expired on my birthday, and I've been driving on it for over two months. Things need to slow down here so I can escape to go renew it.
-Because we're thrown off by all the broken things, Daniel is going high as a kite on us; he can't deal with change.
-Rosey has decided to start getting out of her crib for naps. That one won't be so easy to solve; continually putting her back takes up a good portion of her naptime, meaning she sleeps too late and it messes up her nighttime sleep.
We'll figure it all out, but in the meantime, I'm irritated at the FlyLady for assuming routines are so easy!
And yes, I will try to find restorative time with the Lord today. I quite obviously need it.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Dear Timothy--Like Father, Like Son?
Dear Timothy,
You did a funny thing yesterday, my Timmy Tyme. Being an absent-minded professor type, you always take forever to eat and get dressed. It's just your way--annoying though it is. Those activities are a waste of time to you, I guess. Mommy has a habit of forgetting to eat...but my dressing? I seem to do fine attending to that.
Your mind just seems to wander, taking you to great places, no doubt. Maybe it's the large map of Ohio that is just above your bed, made by Daddy and Daniel during a social studies lesson? Does it set your mind to wondering about something? I often see you standing up on your bed, studying that map, naked as a jay bird. Your clothes I find still laid out--untouched--on your bed. "Timothy! I said to get dressed!" Five minutes later, I come back, finding you tinkering with a puzzle. "TIMOTHY! Get dressed! Focus!" And so it goes, my Timmy Tyme. Sometimes I swear you have ADD, but there are no OTHER signs. Just this dressing and eating and cleaning-up thing. You focus well at all other times. I've considered whether you might be the passive-aggressive type--but no, there are no other signs of that. There's nothing intentional about your mind wanderings.
You were never one to want to do any personal care for yourself. Unlike your sister, Emily Rose, who is constantly insisting, "No! My do! I big girl! Me do it!" You've never uttered anything like that, my love. Come to think of it--your brother never has either. Must have to do with the differences between boys and girls? Girls want to hurry and grow up, so they can take care of others? Boys don't see the need to take care of anybody--themselves included? lol
Come to think of it--Daddy does ask me if his clothes match before we head off to church. Or he just asks me what I want him to wear. lol Maybe so he won't have to change? Your Daddy's hopeless-bachelor roommate said to me, about the time we got engaged, "That man needs a wife worse than any man I've ever met!" Not really knowing what he meant, I just laughed nervously. And when your Daddy, at age 38, told his PA friends that he was moving to California, they chuckled and said, "Don, I'm telling ya. Your clothes will never make it in California!"
When our family grew and we had to get four children ready for church, I no longer cared what Daddy wore to church. I think he was a little disappointed, to tell you the truth. Any other day he doesn't care what matches, and tends to pick out the oldest, most-worn clothes, as a rule. Mommy, being the personally-neat and tidy one, sometimes tries to throw away your Daddy's old T-shirts. You know--the ones that are frayed at the neck? Half the time, I'm found out. "Oh..how did that make it into the trash?", I say, upon him holding up the shirt. Then I turn away, trying not to smile.
Anyhow, you and your brother enjoyed some water play yesterday--followed by a snack inside and getting into dry clothes--before venturing out again to make a race track out of the boards we took off the garden beds. After serving your snack, I reminded you of where you left your dry clothes, and then I went about my indoor business.
Checking on the two of you a bit later, I saw you outside with just your dry T-shirt on--nothing else.
Momma: "Timothy! You're naked! What are you DOING? For heaven's sake!"
Timothy: (Looking at me like..what's the big deal?) "Oh, I didn't know that." You then hot-tail it inside (afraid you might get disciplined), looking everywhere for your dry shorts--the location of which I'd already reminded you about.
That's my Timmy! I'll be sure and give a heads-up to your future wife.
Mommy to fiance: "I tried! I promise--I tried! All my efforts were a waste of time. He's a hopeless personal-care case! What can I say? He knew all his letters and sounds by his second birthday (without direct teaching), was reading at four, and knew what a negative number was at five. But remembering to put on his clothes before going outside? Hopeless!"
So, Timothy. Remember this when your own son is five and you find yourself throwing up your hands in frustration. Something tells me Daddy was just like you---all those years ago.
I love you, Sweet Timmy Tyme! Keep on wondering..dreaming..discovering. I'll try not to get in your way too much. Except to keep you from accidentally mooning the neighbors. lol
All My Love,
Momma
You did a funny thing yesterday, my Timmy Tyme. Being an absent-minded professor type, you always take forever to eat and get dressed. It's just your way--annoying though it is. Those activities are a waste of time to you, I guess. Mommy has a habit of forgetting to eat...but my dressing? I seem to do fine attending to that.
Your mind just seems to wander, taking you to great places, no doubt. Maybe it's the large map of Ohio that is just above your bed, made by Daddy and Daniel during a social studies lesson? Does it set your mind to wondering about something? I often see you standing up on your bed, studying that map, naked as a jay bird. Your clothes I find still laid out--untouched--on your bed. "Timothy! I said to get dressed!" Five minutes later, I come back, finding you tinkering with a puzzle. "TIMOTHY! Get dressed! Focus!" And so it goes, my Timmy Tyme. Sometimes I swear you have ADD, but there are no OTHER signs. Just this dressing and eating and cleaning-up thing. You focus well at all other times. I've considered whether you might be the passive-aggressive type--but no, there are no other signs of that. There's nothing intentional about your mind wanderings.
You were never one to want to do any personal care for yourself. Unlike your sister, Emily Rose, who is constantly insisting, "No! My do! I big girl! Me do it!" You've never uttered anything like that, my love. Come to think of it--your brother never has either. Must have to do with the differences between boys and girls? Girls want to hurry and grow up, so they can take care of others? Boys don't see the need to take care of anybody--themselves included? lol
Come to think of it--Daddy does ask me if his clothes match before we head off to church. Or he just asks me what I want him to wear. lol Maybe so he won't have to change? Your Daddy's hopeless-bachelor roommate said to me, about the time we got engaged, "That man needs a wife worse than any man I've ever met!" Not really knowing what he meant, I just laughed nervously. And when your Daddy, at age 38, told his PA friends that he was moving to California, they chuckled and said, "Don, I'm telling ya. Your clothes will never make it in California!"
When our family grew and we had to get four children ready for church, I no longer cared what Daddy wore to church. I think he was a little disappointed, to tell you the truth. Any other day he doesn't care what matches, and tends to pick out the oldest, most-worn clothes, as a rule. Mommy, being the personally-neat and tidy one, sometimes tries to throw away your Daddy's old T-shirts. You know--the ones that are frayed at the neck? Half the time, I'm found out. "Oh..how did that make it into the trash?", I say, upon him holding up the shirt. Then I turn away, trying not to smile.
Anyhow, you and your brother enjoyed some water play yesterday--followed by a snack inside and getting into dry clothes--before venturing out again to make a race track out of the boards we took off the garden beds. After serving your snack, I reminded you of where you left your dry clothes, and then I went about my indoor business.
Checking on the two of you a bit later, I saw you outside with just your dry T-shirt on--nothing else.
Momma: "Timothy! You're naked! What are you DOING? For heaven's sake!"
Timothy: (Looking at me like..what's the big deal?) "Oh, I didn't know that." You then hot-tail it inside (afraid you might get disciplined), looking everywhere for your dry shorts--the location of which I'd already reminded you about.
That's my Timmy! I'll be sure and give a heads-up to your future wife.
Mommy to fiance: "I tried! I promise--I tried! All my efforts were a waste of time. He's a hopeless personal-care case! What can I say? He knew all his letters and sounds by his second birthday (without direct teaching), was reading at four, and knew what a negative number was at five. But remembering to put on his clothes before going outside? Hopeless!"
So, Timothy. Remember this when your own son is five and you find yourself throwing up your hands in frustration. Something tells me Daddy was just like you---all those years ago.
I love you, Sweet Timmy Tyme! Keep on wondering..dreaming..discovering. I'll try not to get in your way too much. Except to keep you from accidentally mooning the neighbors. lol
All My Love,
Momma
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