Momma the druggist

Last week I took baby E to his 15 month well child. He's perfect by the way, still skinny, with an enormous head (big heads are good in babies after all because big head = big brain) but absolutely perfect.  Except for that whole not sleeping thing. (big, huge, sigh) But, for the very first time, the pediatrician was able to offer a possibility of something to help. Her suggestion? Melatonin. 1mg about a half hour before bed, crushed up. Our decision? What the hell, it's worth a try.

I must admit I feel a little uncomfortable with giving him the Melatonin. I mean, I fall into the whole, "no antibiotics unless absolutely necessary/a fever doesn't necessitate Tylenol/delayed vaccination" camp. So, to give my babe a pill (albeit it crushed up in applesauce) every night, makes me a feel a bit ugh-ish. The boys' pediatrician was a bit flippant about it all, throwing out a dosage that she just guessed on. However, as you well know, we're a big desperate for sleep around here and, short of a hot toddy, we're willing to give about anything a shot so to speak.

Hubby and I - desperate beyond belief to get some freaking sleep - jumped on it. The 1st night we crushed up a 3mg pill, giving him approximately 1mg mixed in applesauce. Imagine my surprise, when little E was asleep in my arms before I even finished the bedtime routine. And then slept 6hours straight. Followed by a brief waking, and then another several hours of sleeping. The 2nd night, he again went to sleep super easy. He was pretty restless, but didn't necessitate parental intervention. I mean, I was still awake several times, but at least I didn't have to get up. The 3rd night, he was up twice, but 1 of those was because of a leaking diaper, so I still count that as a success.

Tonight is the 4th night, and we are back to him taking forever to get to sleep. Not sure what's up with that...maybe we didn't give it to him early enough? No idea. He's in there screaming "night-night. Night-night!!!". But I've got my fingers crossed for a decent night. Please, whoever-is-the-patron-saint-of-babies-and-sleep, make this baby sleep tonight!  [Update: After about 45minutes, he's out. This is still a huge improvement!]

But, I continue to worry a bit about whether it is safe, appropriate dosage, long-term effects, etc... So, when trolling facebook the other night, I was reminded that one FB friend from high school is now a pharmacist. I decided on a whim to send him a message and ask him his opinion. (Side note: it's so funny/odd to be faced with someone you knew that long ago as just your kid brother's friend, but he's now this super smart professional. Cool, but weird.) Well, awesome person that he is, he called and gave me all the info he could dig up. He asked about E's medical history, current symptoms, and a myriad of other clinically relevant questions. He shared his concerns, the primarily one being that he could find no information regarding what might be an appropriate dosage for baby E based on his age and weight. He was professional, informative, empathetic, and so very kind.

He's going to continue to see what he can come up with for appropriate dosage. He suggested getting a compounding pharmacy to make up the right dosage (once we figure out what it is - probably .5mg) so we know for sure. He recommended absolutely not using it if there is any child-specific or biological family history of seizures or liver problems. Certainly baby E hasn't had issues with either of these and the medical histories we have from his birth families doesn't indicate a history there either. The last thing he recommended was using a specific company for the supplement, as herbals aren't regulated by the FDA but this company sends their products to a 3rd party for verification. Because I'm thorough (Read: slightly OCD), we also spoke with hubby's aunt who is also a pharmacist and she's looking for some info for us as well.

Based on all that, the decision we've came to is to continue with the melatonin, for now. It seems to be working for E. He's sleeping - much - longer (for him) and the little circles under his eyes have started to go away. My circles are still there, but I have faith that a few more days of 6+hours of sleep will help those start to resolve as well.

Today's lesson: Some time you do things you never thought you would. I mean, we delay vaccinations and hesitate to even give our kids Tylenol. Giving them a pill to make them sleep is not something I ever thought I'd do. And yet, here we are. You do whatcha gotta do. And that's okay.

Carpe Kairos

You may have tried to read this post a couple of days ago and when you clicked over it was gone, you have my baby E to thank. He somehow managed to publish the post in the 45 seconds I walked away from the computer. I'm in trouble with that one, I tell ya. Anywho, here it is now, for reals.

Have you read this article? If you're a parent or hope to be one some day, you should. Actually, even if you're not a parent, or don't plan to be one, yo should still read it. Really - since I hate the word "should" and all - you need to.
So, if you're not going to click on over there and read the original article, here's the short version. The author hates when people (often well-meaning older people whose kiddos are probably old enough to have kids of their own) tell her to "treasure these moments because they're gone way too fast" or that they "loved every single moment of parenting/when their children were young". Because, the author asserts, that's crap. All moments in parenting are not glorious. Some of them suck big ones.

And I'm gonna have to have her back on this one. Take my Friday night for instance. I put baby E down at 7:30. It was 9:30 before he went to sleep. Then he was back up at 11:45. This eventually necessitated me rocking him to sleep. I finally crawled back into bed at 1:15. He slept til 4. Then was back up at 4:45. And 5:30. And then 7:30 for good. Hubby was out of town at a meeting so it was all me. Tell me, who is going to enjoy that crap? I mean, do I love him? Of course. But was that something to be appreciated and treasured? Not. So. Much.

Funny enough, I feel guilty about all the cussing that was going on in my head that night. It's that infertility thing. You know, I asked (more accurately begged) for the gift of parenting, and all that came along with it. I spent nights pleading with god to just give me a baby and I'd love every single moment. The puking, the diapers, the sleepless nights. Through all of it I would be happy and loving and calm and patient and...and...and...

And yet, I don't enjoy all of it. I am grateful for being a parent, but those moments...those moments, well, they kinda, sorta, for real suck. I'm pretty sure God was laughing at me through all those tears. You know, in a loving kind of way. God knew there would be times when I hated parenting. Times when I would be pissed off to be covered in baby vomit. And not want to read "Goodnight Moon" for the 13th time that day. And hide the play dough because I don't want to have to clean it up again. When I would think, to paraphrase Samuel L. Jackson, "Go the F to sleep!". Or "You are not that cute" in the midst of changing today's 3rd disgustingly explosive diaper. Or come in to find the playroom rug and walls covered in bright red and purple finger paint.

And that, my friends, is okay. Because nothing in life is all good or all bad. I mean, I adore chocolate, but too much of that and I have heartburn for days. And if one of my kids gets it on their clothes, it's a pain to get that stain out. Parenting is like that. Wonderfully delicious at times. A miserable pain at others. I know these well-meaning people had those painfully crappy moments, too, so why don't they remember them? Didn't they, too, get inundated with people telling them to treasure every little moment and feel like a failure at times for not loving every minute? Do they feel the need to - for some reason - pass along the errant belief to unsuspecting parents that everyone else loves every minute of parenting?

But all those things do is make the rest of us also feel crappy about the moments - the very normal and universal moments - when crappy things are happening. I think that when we ignore or try to hide the bad parts of parenting, all we do is set each other up for more feelings of guilt and inadequacy. It makes us all feel more alone, more isolated, more ashamed.

I would suggest that what we should instead do, is walk up to the mom whose 2 year old is throwing a very public tantrum and remind her that it won't last forever, and that we've been there, too, or at a minimum smile at her. Or remind the mother of the middle schooler that we, too, every day have moments of wanting to both hug and kill our children. Or tell that new mom that we, too, had that moment (perhaps nightly) where we truly "got it" as to why people shake their babies.

And I know that that some of you are still waiting for your child, you're still at that place where I was, bargining with God to be happy with every single moment, poopy diapers, screaming fits and all, if only you could have your baby. And I'm not negating that place where you are. I've been there, too, so many times.

But this article (which I don't think was written by someone facing infertility) still stands true in my book. Even when all you want in the world is to be a parent, it won't be perfect. You will hate moments. You will think "what the eff was I thinking?". There will still be moments when you're pissed off at your kid, exhausted beyond what you thought possible, painfully embarassed at your 4 year old's tantrum at Target, and wanting nothing more than a day to yourself.

And that is okay.

Today's lesson: Carpe Kairos, y'all. Living in God's time allows us to treasure the small moments, without feeling the pressure to treasure all the moments. You don't have to love the screaming and poopy diapers as long as you can find the moments that really make you happy. Like those giggles, and kisses, and "you're the best momma in the world"  moments. Those are the important ones.

A Smiley School Meeting

Thursday afternoon I met with Mrs M and the counselor. We'd discussed meeting a few weeks ago in order to determine if we wanted to continue with the 504 plan, and just to see how the kid's adjusting in Mrs M's room. Y'all, seriously, the meeting was great. And very interesting.

So we started off with Mrs M just giving me an overview of how she structures her classroom. It's so much more free-flowing and Montessori-ish. Be still my momma-heart. Then she told me about the movement breaks she has worked into the schedule (for the kids and herself). And that in "centers" there are always choices. Like the kids get to choose what they're going to do from 2-4 different activities (novel concept, eh?).

And then she broke out the sheet. You know, the one that Mrs L used. But, instead of describing everything as an "area of concern", everything was "accomplished", with the exception of 3 areas that all involve him not being able to wait to be called  on to speak out (and - for real - no big shocker there). And these were classified as "progressing plus" because, according to Mrs M, he's shown drastic improvement with this already since he started in her room, without intervention. This was about the point I exhaled in relief the enormous breath I had apparently been holding.

She went on to say lovely things about the kid. "She likes him! She likes him!!!!!!". That's about all I was hearing. So I hope there wasn't anything really important in there. 'Cause if there was I totally missed it.

Overall, it was such a relief to hear all these things. And a confirmation of the decision we (uh, I) made to switch his classroom. I must admit the validation was nice. But, mostly, I'm just happy that my kid is happier and that he's being treated kindly. And that the other major woman in his life also likes him. Shew.

Today's lesson: Save your blog post before you walk away from it . Otherwise your children may decide to pull your laptop off the ottoman, type their own crap on it, delete half your (unsaved) blog post, change completely your Internet settings, and send an email to who the hell knows who on your work email. You know, of the job you just started last week. Such things are apparently possible in less than 3 minutes. Even though it takes your 10x that long to undo all of it. Or you could just put your laptop where they can't access it. In hindsight, this may be the most helpful lesson the day.

A Book

One of my most read posts is this one, about the brave family who chose to give baby E the milk pumped for their sweet baby boy...a tiny soul who passed away just one short month after he was born. At the time I wrote it, I knew nearly nothing about this family. I particularly didn't know what had happened to their son, how he had died. I was torn about using the milk. Saddened that the milk that momma had so lovingly pumped for her own babe was being used to make mine healthy and strong. Heartbroken for the family who would not see their son grow to be a man. Guilty that I had severed one more tie they had to him. Just so sad at the loss of this tiny person.

I wrote my post, eventually used all the milk, and continued to think of that special family. Then, one day several months ago, I opened an unexpected email. From the father of that baby boy. He thanked me for my post. He said they were in the process of writing a book about their dear son. He asked if they could include my blog post in the book. I was floored. I mean, what could I have said that was in any way important compared with what they had to say about their experience, and their son's. But of course I said "yes". How could I not? He thanked me and offered to send me a copy once they were done.

I didn't really think anything else of it. I mean, I continued to think about them, but I didn't think about the blog post or book.

Until a couple of weeks ago. When I received in the mail a most beautiful and heart-wrenching book. Giving witness to their sweet little boy and his short life. Oh, the beauty in this family is even more than I knew. They are truly amazing. One thing they wrote, was they hope that in the giving of the milk, baby E would know God. And I can say, without a doubt, that he will. I mean, he would have anyway, but this gift was such a tangible and extraordinary example of God's love. And of the beauty of the human spirit. Such beauty, such love, could only come from one source. And so, while this milk does not introduce my child and our family to God's love, it does remind us in an immensely unique way.

They have a website, A Song of Suffering, to which I'd like to direct you, if you're interested in knowing more about them. They're a family who suffered a horrible, tragic, unimaginable thing. They survived. Their faith sustained them. They sustained each other. They have changed me. And so I thank them yet again. Because I can never thank them enough.

Today's lesson: We never know how our lives will intersect with others. We never know how our words may affect others. We never know what role our words may have in the lives of others. Sometimes I am reminded that it behooves us all to chose our words so carefully.

Sweet Mrs M

Nearly two weeks in with the new teacher and things are going so well. I felt the need to clarify this after my post the other day. Please know, she's awesome and, if we must live under the auspices of public school (which for right now we must), we couldn't ask for a more fabulous teacher. She is responsive to our emails (always within less than an hour - shocking, right?!). She seems to really like the kid. She wants to meet with us so she can get to know him better and share info about what she's observing (holistically, not just academically) in the classroom. She isn't putting him in time out. She's even letting him get in the treasure box because he's having days that good. These things are all amazing to me. Which is kinda sad, if you think about. Which I'm trying not to do.

The best, part, though, is that the kid is coming home and he is able to tell me at least one, but often more, great/fun/happy thing(s) that happened that day. At first those things were still of the "I didn't get in trouble today" variety. But even those were different, in his delivery at least. They weren't said in this beaten down, sad tone. They were with this lit up face, as if he was amazed that such days were even possible. But now, he says honest to goodness positive things - about his day, about the other kids, about Mrs. M herself. It's wonderful.

Funny enough, he still mentions MG1 (mean girl 1). I think it really bothers him that she doesn't like him. We're gonna need to have a convo soon about bullies and how it's about them, not you. But we'll get there soon enough.

A friend, who's child previously had Mrs. M raves about her. She said Mrs. M is early childhood trained, and that is so very obvious. She - really - is fantastic and I am so grateful that we made this switch.

That said, the kid has been an honest to goodness MESS the past two weeks. I mean OHHHHH. MMMMMM. GGEEEEE. He is driving me up a wall. All the walls. The attitude and disrespect coming out of his mouth is not my child. "So, what? Who cares what you think about that?!". "So?! What are you going to do about it anyway?!" "Just put me back in my normal life already, will you woman?!" I mean, what?! I'm not sure where my sweet boy went, but I'm gonna need him back. And sooner rather than later. You know, before I kill him. I jest. (Sort of...)

In truth, I think he's just adjusting to this new big change. He doesn't really completely understand the reason for the change. And he's not sleeping well of late (had a cold, asthma started acting up, ran out of meds --> not sleeping well at night and waking early in the morning). So all of those have left me with a mess of a kid. Even though Mrs. M is perfectly lovely, and a total keeper.

Today's lesson - The "fix" doesn't undo the damage caused by the problem. The damage doesn't just go away. It still has to be addressed and allowed to heal. Which means you should try not to make it worse. You know, by like telling him that he'd better care what you think because you're the momma . So there". That's probably not a good choice. You know, to help in the healing and all.

This One Time...

A post from another blogger (CallMeMama) reminded me of a similar experience I had when the kid was a newborn. And I felt compelled to share it with you.

I was in my 2nd semester of grad school to get a Masters of Social Work when the kid was born. (Side Note: Yes, working full time, going to grad school almost full time, and parenting a newborn does suck. Big time.) I skipped my classes the first week he was born because, well, I mean, wouldn't you? And my professors were wonderfully understanding. One actually went so far as to order me to not come in. I adore her to this day for that.

When the kid was about 10 days old, though, I went to class. I, as I think most new parents would do, took in a few pics of my darling babe. At the beginning of class I passed them around and shared some basic info. I mean, we'd been in class together for only a few weeks and though none of us knew each other well, they did know me well enough to know that I hadn't been pregnant 2 weeks prior. So, I told them that we were adopting him and thrilled beyond words to have been chosen by his birth parents to be the parents who would raise him.

Most everyone oo-ed and awe-ed over my baby kid (as they should have because, I mean, he was freaking adorable). One girl, however, kind of freaked out, wanting to know why we had a black baby. She, too, was black and didn't think we, as white parents, should have this baby. I explained that we didn’t decide to parent a “black baby” (her words). We wanted to be parents and were open to whatever child came to us/was meant to be part of our family. We were chosen by the kid's birth parents and the difference in our races didn't bother them. I said that it was their decision, not hers. And if she had a problem with it, then I recommend she look into adoption herself. The rest of the graduate level social work class nodded their heads in agreement and we went on.

Fortunately, that was nearly 6 years ago and it’s been the only experience of that kind that we’ve had. However, it’s hard to feel like you have to “justify” your family. And what I know now, is that I don't actually have to justify my family to anyone. But I didn't know that then. Now, I decide when presented with situations whether I will let things be, or whether I will take the opportunity to educate people about adoption in general or transracial adoption specifically. I used to just babble on and on about it. Now I tend to be much more judicious about what I say. I used to probably tell a lot of my son's story. Now I realize that his story is his own. And that means that he gets to chose what to tell others. Not me.

On the flip side, I feel like it's so very important how I respond to adoption related comments and questions. Because he's there, always listening. And how I respond to questions - whether I'm uncomfortable, or how much I chose to share, or whether I am respectful  - affects how he thinks about adoption (his own, his brother's, and in general). It also affects how/what he thinks about himself. I have to be so much more intentional in the words I choose to say, and with those choose to share with others. Because he has big ears.

So, when I think about the incident that happened almost 6 years ago, I wonder how I would respond to such a thing now. I think I'd probably say about the same thing, if he weren't there. I don't know how I'd react and what I'd say if he was. I think I'd better figure it out. Because I suspect that it's just a matter of time before it happens. And I need to have my ducks in a row, so that I project confidence. So that he knows we can talk about adoption, that it is a safe topic. And that he only has to share the information he wants to share.

I have a post brewing in my head about the reasons why I think this woman had such a strong reaction. I think it's multi-faceted with cultural and historical components. Will let ya know when I get that cranked out.

Today's lesson: I'll leave you with the words of that adorable kid. The sweetness of the apples is only topped by the sweetness of the love my brother gives me in his kisses. Sometimes the heart nearly bursts from the amount of love in it. This, is a most wonderful feeling.

Heart Outside of Your Body

I don't even know what to do with a kid who is old enough to lose teeth (as in he's lost more than one now!). I mean, surely that means he is GROWING UP. Like, a big kid. Not my little boy anymore. I don't know how to handle that.

I frequently think about that quotation that goes something like "having children is like having your heart walk around outside of your body" (I'm sure one of you knows how that actually goes, and even who said it; I'm much too tired to even care to google it). I am not immune to my kid's flaws, but in truth he is really a sweet, empathetic little being, and he gets his feelings hurt easily. It's one of the reasons I have worried so about him going to public school. At his Montessori school, they were just as worried about kids' feelings and emotional well being as their academic achievement. And, as a social worker, a therapist, a momma, I am all about that.

However, public school simply isn't set up to work that way. It's a much more cut throat kind of environment. Kids are taught to suck it up and focus on the damn test. They're expected to sit and attend for what I feel are long - and frankly age inappropriate - periods of time. The expectation is that they will engage in adult-directed activities for the vast majority of the day. They are allowed to make very few decisions about what they will be doing.

And, as I've been recently reminded by an old friend, that just isn't the way we parent; those aren't the expectations our child has grown up with to this point. We haven't trained him to sit for long periods of time by providing him with the opportunity to watch television shows (he didn't get to watch TV til after he was 3. I mean at all). He doesn't sit in front of a computer playing games. We allow him to choose what he is going to do/play at any given time. We engage in play with him when he requests it, following his lead, not forcing our own agenda. We gently suggest activities, but ultimately it's up to him. We talk about feelings. A lot. It is as important to us that he learn to be a compassionate person as anything else.

Is it any wonder public school has been a challenge for him thus far?

And yet, him growing up means that I am no longer in control over his days. The public school system doesn't care that my goal as a parent is to raise a compassionate, caring human being. They care that he can read. And count by 5's to 50. And the way it's set up to do that is by teaching all children in the same way. Which means sitting still. A lot. And we're just - ALL - going to have to get used to it.

Or find a new school. Which we're not ruling out.

Today's lesson: Childcare has been, and continues to be, one of the most difficult parts of parenting. To trust someone else to care for you child is scary. Because the chances of them doing it just like you want or would is nil. So, your heart walks around outside of your body. And you have no control over how it is treated or cared for. Hard.

Oh, Domperidone...

So, I took my last Domperidone. I've been titrating down the dosage for a month or so. I noticed I was getting low and had to decide whether or not to order more. At about $50-60/month, we'd spent a lot of money on the medication. I mean, it's been, geez... probably 2.5 years that I've been taking it.

Also, I never saw what I'd consider a significant result. I mean, I don't really know how much milk I was able to produce, but I'd be willing to go out on a limb and say it was certainly less than an ounce per feeding (maybe up to that much when he was little, before I went back to work). It just seems like a waste to be spending the money for so little, uh, output.

I also stopped pumping a few months back. Because of my hectic and unpredictable work schedule, I just never knew when I'd have time to pump. Or where I'd be when I had the time (Kroger parking lot anyone? Random church parking lot? Not ideal locations). One time, I was sitting there pumping (with a hand pump because I don't have a car adapter for the electric one) and someone pulled up and parked right next to me. Super uncomfortable. And, again, the output was so tiny (less than 5ML always), that the effort just didn't seem worth it. So I gave myself permission to just stop.

But here's the thing, I feel guilty about stopping the medication (and pumping, too). Here's the main reason - we're continuing to give baby E donated breastmilk (hopefully til he's at least 18 months - so another 3 months). So, all those mommas are still doing their part (the endless pumping). And, yes, I realize that they're also feeding their babies, but if they weren't committed, or at least willing, to also in part feed mine, they wouldn't have to pump as much or as often.

So now I'm feeling like I've shirked my responsibility. I'm not putting in the extra effort that they are. To feed my baby. It's already one of those things I "should" be able to do on my own. One of those things that I so wanted, want, to do on my own. I already rely on others to do it. And while of course I appreciate them beyond measure, I still carry that guilt, that feeling of pissed-off-ed-ness at my body for not doing what it "should" have be able to do.

I keep telling myself that it's okay. That baby E has a full belly. That he's happy. And that's what's important. But that nagging voice telling me I'm a failure just won't  go away.

Damn the mommy guilt. Damn the infertility. Neither of them ever seems to go away. Neither of their effects ever seem to lessen.

Today's lesson: It's interesting how pervasive guilt can be. How it can show up in places both expected and unexpected. It's also funny how some lessons show up over and over in your life. They seem to keep showing up until you really and truly learn them. Note to self: Learn the damn lesson already.

Head Injuries

Here's a running list of the head injuries baby E has sustained in the last couple of days:

• Getting head stuck in between banister railings. Necessitated a little finagling to get him out. He screamed for about 3 minutes afterwards. Because he was mad. And then he stuck his head right back in there. Whole process repeated. Including the part where he stuck his head back between the railings. For the third time in less than 10 minutes.
• Me, dropping him. On his head. He was squirming to get down. He was less than a foot off the ground. Man, he was ticked at me. And so torn because he also wanted me to comfort him. I only laughed on the inside. And, of course, because he was okay.
• Me, colliding heads with him after he stood up, finally consoled about the whole dropping thing. That set him off, pissed at me again.
• The kid running into him, knocking him to the floor. He bit his lip. There was blood (ew). And lots of pitiful crying. For about 5 minutes, then he was trying to console the kid, who was really upset that he'd hurt his little brother. That was pretty cute.
• Falling down half a flight of very hard stairs. There were LOTS of tears, many of them mine. He seems no worse for the wear. My Grandmother said, "My, isn't it great that they have such bounce in them". I think that means she was glad he was okay. I think.

Today's lesson: It will be a miracle if this baby gets through the next year - heck, the next month - without a trip to the ER for something head related.

The New Teacher

I'd write an ode to Mrs M, if only I remembered how to do such a thing. Or a haiku, which I seem to remember was easier. But I can't actually remember the rules for those either. But, suffice to say, we're loving Mrs M so far! Hubby sent an email to her early in the day just to introduce himself and check in. Imagine our surprise when she replied. Like immediately (And by immediately I mean within the same hour because that's never happened before). And she had lovely things to say. Like that she was also an active and social person, so she thought they'd get along well. And that he was lovely. And she was thrilled to have him in her class. Picture one big grin from this momma.

The, out of the blue, I got a very kind email from Mrs M at the end of the day. She said he'd had a good day and reiterated that she was glad to have him and felt he would do well in her class. I could kiss this woman. I wanted to tell her that but fortunately I restrained myself and instead just thanked her. Perhaps profusely.

The kid came come smiling and said honest to goodness GOOD things about his day. I mean, GOOD THINGS!! As in more than one good thing. Sure, he was still able to come up with something sad (a girl was poking at him), but the fact that he could give me anything good is a good step in the right direction. This is one happy momma.

Today's lesson: Head injuries are common in toddlers. See the next post for more on that.

Oh, you missed me?

I have certainly been the absent blogger of late. I have a good reason. Well, a few. First it was the the holidays. Second, things have been super busy (see first). Third, well, I just really haven't had much to say. I mean, I've been busy (refer back to 2nd reason), but there's not really been anything in particular that I've wanted to write. Or, I suppose there have been things (like when my baby fell down the very hard stairs at my grandmother's house, or the awesome man-cave hubby and I made for the kid for Christmas, or how awfully baby E slept while we were traveling, then slept through the night last night - unpredictable little creature), but no time to formulate a full post about any one of them in particular. (And you're welcome for all the vagueness in all that.) Maybe I'll come back at some point and fill in some of the holiday breaks. Maybe not. I have a feeling many of us are just ready to move on from the holidays. I am at least. We'll see...

Anywho, here's the deal-io with today. What, you don't remember why today is important in our little household? I can't imagine why. Well, I'm willing to remind you. Today the kid starts in his new class at school. We're finally done with Mrs L. Now, Mr P (the principal) was supposed to call the week of Christmas with the name of the kid's new teacher. He didn't. Really, this didn't bother me because I hope he was spending the time with his kids and family instead of worrying about mind - I have no doubt he was. But, come yesterday evening and we didn't didn't know anything I was getting a little concerned. Finally. about 7 he called and told us the kid's new teacher will be Mrs M.

I don't know anything about her other than that the kid who lives behind us is in her class. Really, that's all I know. But it's got to be better. So, we're going with it. I walked him in this morning and met Mrs M in the office. She took the kid to the room and I briefly checked in with Mr P. Then I headed down to the room. Mrs M was showing him around. He had a huge grin on his face, though I know he was nervous. She just is what I picture when I think about a Kindergarten teacher. Kind eyes. Welcoming demeanor. General warmness. Friendly and slightly humorous smile.

Dear Lord, I hope this is a good fit. We need this woman to like our kid. To get our kid. To undo the damage Mrs L has done. To remind him that he loves school. And, poor woman, 'cause that is lots of pressure to put on one person. Thankfully, I haven't told her all this.

So, here's to holidays being over and the kid having a great day with a (sweetbabyjesuspleaseletherbeawesome) new teacher.

Today's lesson: Probably your baby who doesn't like to sleep at home won't just decide that he'd love to sleep when you're visiting with family.

This morning

I was awoken by a 5 year old telling me he needed to pee at 5:30am. Just as I got back to sleep, the baby woke up, fussing in his room. I stuck the paci back in his mouth and patted his butt for a few minutes. That didn't work. So, I threw him (not quite literally) in bed with hubby and I. Again, just as I was almost asleep, the 5yo came back, “uh, momma, I’m pretty sure it’s time to wake up now. Right?”. A quick look at the clock, confirmed that it was not even close to time to get up (hello 6am). I growled at him to get back in his room. Tried to get back to sleep -again. Awoken by baby smacking me in the face. But then he smiled, nuzzled his head under my chin, sighed with contentment, kissed my cheek and said, “wub ewe”. Then the 5 year old came barreling back into the room, hurdling himself onto the bed. Screaming, "good morning, Momma!!!!!!!!!!".

So I sighed and got up.

It’s was 645.

I wouldn't change it. Except maybe the time. A couple hours later would have been fabulous. But, still. I'll take it.

Happy Christmas Eve, friends!

Today's lesson: Kids don't care that parents have the opportunity to sleep in. They just don't. Deal.

Oh, there's that Christmas Spirit

So I've finally found a bit of Christmas spirit. And it's all thanks to two of my dearest friends.

JE actually likes wrapping presents. No, idk what the heck is wrong with her, but I'll take it. Because do you know what this wonderful woman did?? She wrapped nearly all of my Christmas presents. She spent 2 (that's right -2!) of her evenings at my home, wrapping presents in my cold basement. I mean, whaaaaat?! Who does that?! My awesome friend JE, that's who. And it's not like she had nothing else going on. She works 3 (yes, that's right 3) jobs and has this kind of awesome husband at home who adores her company. And yet she still found - made - time to take this huge task that I heartily abhor off my list of things to do.

And then, my BFF came over and helped me with this super cool fort hubby and I (and the BFF) have made for the kid for Christmas (pictures to come soon, hopefully). I'm pretty sure I'd still be down there measuring and cussing if she'd hadn't come to help me. And then - I know, how could there be more?? - she came and took the kid yesterday to give hubby a break and get the kid out of the house for awhile. She subjected herself to Bounce U (you know, one of those places where the kids run around screaming at the tops of their lungs, throwing themselves onto these enormous inflatable things. It's fun for them. Not so much for any adult unlucky enough to be accompanying them). So, after that, she took him to lunch, then to get ice cream. And THEN, she spent the afternoon with us, helping to decorate cookies (it was loud and crazy up in here, y'all). And, to top off her cake of awesomeness, she cleaned up my kitchen from dinner.

I mean, really, what else could a girl ask than to have such wonderful and giving friends?? I am blessed to have them. And I can only hope that I am half as loving and supportive as they have been, especially in the last year. So, today I began to feel some of that Christmas spirit I have so been lacking. And I have my wonderful friends to thank for that. Love you girls!

Today's lesson: Where would a girl be without her friends? I mean, really, who else would wrap your presents, or clean up your dinner dishes? Girlfriends are a must for any emotionally stable momma.

ICLW

I've done ICLW several times, though I guess I've never done a synopsis "this is who I am" kind of post. And, since that seems like something I can do relatively quick, here it is. Oh, yeah, and if you have no idea what ICLW is, click here for more info.

Hubby and I have been married for 11.5 years and experienced unexplained infertility for several years. We have 2 boys who joined our family through adoption. Both are open, domestic, transracial adoptions. I was present in the delivery rooms of both my sweet boys. We adore both of their birth families, though our relationships have not always been smooth or easy. My kid is 5 and a half and in Kindergarten. Baby E is nearly 15 months and still doesn't sleep for crap at night. We're exhausted. All. the. time.

I blog about parenting, the funny crap my kid says, things we try that don't get baby E to sleep at night, life in general, social work, breastfeeding (oh yeah, I induced lactation and have been breastfeeding baby E since he was born), milk sharing, random stuff, and I don't really know what else. Even though I'm now parenting the best kids ever (pretty sure I'm not biased about that), I continue to deal with the affects of infertility. It's still something that pops up at the most unexpected moments. So I guess that is something I also blog about. Something else I write about is that my MIL was killed in a freak accident a few months ago. So, any references to grief, mourning ,etc... are about her. It was such a shock. We're mostly still reeling from it. I write about her to try to process it all. Also, usually what I write is more interesting than this post. I think. I hope.

Today's lesson: Apparently sometimes a person just has a song in his soul and he has to sing it out. At bed time. Because that's when it's aching to get out. At least that's the story my kid told tonight. It seems possible that it's also a strategy to delay bedtime.

A Period of Mourning

Back in the day, and still today in other cultures, there was/is this assumed, almost mandated period of mourning. There are physical indicators that the family is mourning the loss of a loved one. They may cover all the mirrors in the home. Or wear black. Or abstain from certain social situations. In some areas of the world, widows or widowers wear black for the rest of their lives. Some cultures have different customs depending on what part of mourning the family is in (black clothes at first, switching to grey half way through the mourning period). Grief is experienced on the biological, neurochemical, emotional, psychological, social, and spiritual levels. There are hundreds of other ways people around the world do/have mourned their loved ones. Often the time period is at least a year.

While perhaps to some it seems silly to need/want this "how-to" of grieving, this makes so much sense to me. It gives you some direction in how you should act, when heaven knows you're feeling a million things, but none of them are what you should do next. It gets you through all the holidays. All the birthdays. All the seasons. So many of life's events. It gives you a chance to truly grieve. It gives you permission to withdraw some and really deal with the loss. Without outside pressure to "move on".

And, yet, for some reason, this is a cultural practice that we for the most part no longer share in (at least here in the US). And so there is this enormous ambiguity to grief and loss. When should one be ready for this or that? When should we move on? How are we supposed to act? How do we know when we're ready? Or what the hell that even means.

It's all so damn complicated. And I think that sometimes we are compelled to rejoin life well before we're ready, simply because others tell us we should. Or because others force us into it because they have their own ideas of when we should be ready, or what we should be doing. And we, simply because we have no idea ourselves how to grieve,  no frame of reference in which to put our own experience, just go along with it. Even while our guts are screaming that it's wrong. That it's awful. That it's the exact opposite of what we should be doing.

But none of us really know what we should do. (And have I mentioned before how much I really hate the word "should", and yet it's sometimes the only appropriate word to use). Should we simply allow others to grieve and move on how they need to, regardless of how it is affecting us? But, what if their way of doing it is truly causing additional harm to us, or others we love, or hell, even themselves? What if we see them avoiding, not really grieving? Or is that simply a way of judging someone else, assuming we know what's best for them?

Grief is so complicated. And though I'm sure it always has been very personal and individual, it also seems like it used to be something that people knew how to do. This grief, it isn't something we know how to do. And that leaves us feeling lost. And even more sad. And, in some ways, even more alone in it all.

Today's lesson: Sometimes progress really isn't that at all. Sometimes the "old ways" of doing things are really the best.

Mean Girls

So in addition to all the stuff with Mrs L, the kid has also been dealing with a bully in his class. Well, really, the one in particular and her little friend. They're a couple of mean girls(MGs). I can see into their future. Middle school. High school. They are going to make others' lives more miserable. Well, the potential is there. I hope with all I am that something or someone will turn that around for them.

But, it's so interesting to hear the kid talk about them. On the way to school Friday, I brought up to him the possibility of switching classrooms after break (this was before we'd had a decision from Mr P). I told him it would mean a new teacher and kids, but he could still see his friends from his current class at recess, etc... He said, "well except for MG1". I asked him what he meant. He said, "I think I'll avoid her. I mean I like her, but she's kind of a bully to me and some of my other friends". I asked him to explain to me what that means. He said (verbatim), "Momma, lets just say she's kind of complicated to get along with. MG1 is difficult to communicate with effectively quite often. I think it's in my best interest to just avoid her if at all possible". He'd also said earlier in the week that both of the MGs were beautiful on the outside, but not very pretty on the inside.

He went on to explain some of the behaviors MGs 1 and 2 are exhibiting. And I would agree wholeheartedly that they are indeed bullying the other kids. Of course later that afternoon the parent I had lunch with confirmed that she, too, had seen MGs 1 and 2 bully the other kids. She has brought it up to Mrs L. Who knows whether or not Mrs L addressed it in any way. I - and all the other parents whose kids will ever come into contact with these girls - can only hope she will handle it better than she's handled many other issues.

Pretty amazing that a 5 year old knows a bully when he sees one. And even more amazing (aka sad) that they exist already in Kindergarten. Also, take that, Mrs L. My 5 year old obviously has deficiencies in his vocabulary. (eye roll) And, I am now done talking about her.

Today's lesson: Apparently, Kindergarten is not too early to talk with your child about bullying.

In the principal's office twice in one week

Okay, so after I posted last night I simply couldn't sleep. My brain was running a mile a minute. For TWO hours. So I got up and decided to write an email. I didn't send it last night, just in case it actually sounded crazy. I did send it this morning. Anyway, here's what it said.

Mr. P-

After talking with my husband and processing some of our meeting Wednesday and phone call yesterday, I feel like there are a few things I neglected to explain effectively. One of those are the behaviors and symptoms we are seeing from the kid while at home. Understandably you were focused on school behaviors, but it is ultimately the changes in his behavior at home that are most concerning to us, and led us to try to talk with Mrs. L, then me to talk with the counselor, and finally with you.

First, the kid has always been an outgoing and relatively easygoing child. What we've seen from him in the last 3-4 months is a marked decrease in his frustration tolerance. He has never been a child to have tantrums, but we've started to see some and though they are minor (especially in comparison to those I see in some of my clients), they are absolutely not "normal" for the kid. Additionally, he has always been a confident child; that confidence is lessening and he is often heard to say "I can't do that", which is never something he's said before. We're also seeing his confidence in interacting with other people diminishing. It is only in the last few months that I have heard him say that someone doesn't like him. The kid has started to exhibit some signs of anxiety and increased worrying that we find very concerning as these, too, are completely abnormal for him.

All of these behaviors are what led to the Adjustment Disorder - not the talking out of turn in class. I realize these behaviors may not be ones you all at the school has noted. We have the advantage of having a "before and after" picture of the kid.

I would never presume to tell Mrs L, or any other teacher, how to manage or structure her/his classroom. I recognize that her highly structured classroom works well for some children (indeed, many of my clients greatly benefit from that type of environment). However, it does not for our son. He needs less structure, more freedom of movement, increased opportunities for socialization, and a nurturing authority figure. We are aware that public school is not Montessori school. However, these are the characteristics of his previous classrooms that allowed him to be successful, both academically, socially and emotionally.

In my and my husband's opinion, the kid and Mrs L are like a square peg and a round hole. And that isn't something that can be worked out. So, while I am more than willing to meet this afternoon, and certainly understand your desire to make it work as is, we don't feel like that is possible. We feel that it is in the kid's best interest to be moved to a different classroom.

Please let me know how you prefer to proceed. 

Thank you. We both so very much appreciate your willingness to listen and work with us. I know your priority is the same as ours - that kids (including the kid) be successful at school.

So, after all my own anxiety in how to word this and deal with it, the response I got from him was "okay, you know your child better than we do. No problem. We'll switch him". I was like, "whaaaaa....??? I mean, great!". He said he's talk to Mrs L and it would be taken care of when I got there for his classroom Christmas party this afternoon. Well, apparently he wasn't able to get around to it before then because she was all "I really want to meet with you all, but I simply can't do it today. But I really do want to talk. So, what other day in January will work?". I assured her not to worry and that I was going to check in with Mr P on the way out and he could get back with her on that. The middle of chaos, I mean the classroom, wasn't the time to do it. Also, not MY job to tell her. Thankfully.

So, we checked in with Mr P on the way out and he assured me again it wasn't a big deal. He said he'll make sure the kid's stuff magically appears in his new classroom Jan 2nd. He'll let us know early next week whose classroom that will be.

I am still a little worried about how the kid will handle this transition, but I'm feeling pretty confident he'll be okay. I'm grateful that it's "over" insofar as we at least have a decision and know what's happening and it's what we wanted to happen. I will pray with all that's in me that this will work for my sweet boy. I do love him so.

Today's lesson - sometimes it's a heck of a lot easier to advocate for someone else's child than it is to do so for your own. And certainly much less anxiety-ridden.

Last time I was in the Principal's Office I threw up on her shoes.

So, I realize I left you hanging. I promised to let you know what happened with yesterday's school meeting. But I fell asleep last night on the floor of baby E's room with my arm in his crib and only woke up an hour and a half later. My arm was still asleep and I just went to bed. So, here it is.

Settle in, this is gonna be a long one. Although, since we've had stuff happen today, and will again tomorrow (to be further explained at the end), this may be lacking in some details.

Alright, so basically this is how yesterday's meeting with the counselor and principal went. P (principal): So, tell me what's been going on. Me: (blah, blah, blah - all that stuff y'all already know about). P: So, is he kicking, or hitting, or biting, or throwing desks? Me: Good, lord, no!!!!! P: So, I don't think he has this disorder. Let's call a spade a spade. Basically, what you're saying is that you don't like the way this teacher treats your child and that's why you wanted a 504 plan. Me: Um, well, he does meet the diagnostic criteria for an Adjustment disorder. P: (cuts me off) But all he's doing is just talking in class? So, obviously there's not big behavior problems. Me: Right, hitting and biting, etc... are not the diagnostic and behavioral features of this disorder. That might be oppositional defiant disorder or ADHD, or something else. This is Adjustment Disorder, and again, he does meet the diagnostic criteria. But, no, I don't like how she's treating my child. And yes, the 504 plan was a way to get my child's needs met, with trying to preserve our relationship with the teacher as best possible. P: Yeah, so, basically what you want is for her not to take away your kid's recess, not make him write sentences as a punishment, her to communicate regularly and for her to like him? Me: Yeah. P: That's reasonable and I expect that, too. Me (enormous sigh of relief, thankyoubabyjesus) Yeah, I thought so, too.

Then he said he'd like to talk to Mrs L before deciding what to do. He said he'd do that Friday afternoon because "I know all you parents think that if I talk to a teacher she'll treat your kids different". Me "I don't think it matters a bit what you say to her. She's not going to treat my child any differently. And I'd prefer that if we're going to switch him, it be decided by tomorrow, so we can discuss it with him and he can have Friday to process this change and say goodbyes to his classmates and teacher (and the assistant). "Oh. okay."

The plan was then that he'd talk with her today and call me and let me know what his decision was. According to him - and I don't know whether this is per policy or what - he has the final say so regarding whether or not we can get the kid's classroom changed. Overall, though I'd felt a little defensive and that he was pretty ticked off, I came away feeling like it was Mrs L he was irritated with (not me) and fairly satisfied with the whole thing.

So then I waited all day to hear from him. By 330 (school was out at 230 and the office closes at 3), I called to leave a message. He actually answered and said he hadn't had a chance to talk with her until the end of the day. He said she was "quite surprised and taken aback" by much of what I'd said. She didn't remember the emails we'd sent (other than one) or either of the notes I put in his folder for her. She confirmed that the reasons the kid gets in trouble is for talking when he isn't supposed to be. She was so confused because she assumed that "no news is good news", I guess as far as her not getting communication from us (though that's not accurate, as we made several attempts) and as far as her not contacting us.

P said he's not ruling out changing classrooms, but would like us to sit down with her tomorrow to talk. I want to do this even less than I want to get a shot. And the dear lord knows how much I hate me a shot. At this point, I don't care what she has to say. I want him in a different classroom. Nothing P says, nothing I say, is going to make Mrs L nurturing. Or like the kid. I like conflict as much as the next girl. So if this is going to get us nowhere other than in an extremely uncomfortable spot, what's the point?

Oh, yes, and the (very important!!!) thing I forgot to mention, is that I did meet with that other parent. She confirmed nearly everything the kid's been telling us. (And I really liked her, too! And not just because she said what I wanted to hear either, lol.) The short of it is that Mrs L has little group of her favorites, and her little group of not favorites. And she treats the two groups very differently.

So, if an independent set of eyes is getting this same thing - the exact same thing my 5 year old is telling me - seems like there's about a 99.9% chance that it's true. Not that I can/should say that to her. But I'm pretty sure it's all I'll be thinking about.

Okay, so here's what I've come to after an hour of talking all this over with my mom and hubby. I will be going in and flat out saying that I'm not interested in making things work for the kid in Mrs L's room. her environment is not in which my child is being successful, or happy. I am going to ask and if necessary demand that he be moved to another room/teacher. I can only hope that it will be that easy. I know it won't. It's going to suck. Mostly I know that I don't want to cry.

Today's lesson: Sometimes you really don't know how much you'll miss something til it's gone. For us, that means the kid's Montessori school. Dear lord how I miss that place and the wonderful people in it.

Finally, a school meeting is scheduled

Okay, so here's the latest in the school drama department. Friday we finally got a response from the school counselor regarding getting the 504 meeting set up. 2 weeks later than she said she'd get back with me. (insert picture of my head exploding here) And here's what she had to say - um, I think we should do the meeting in January when we're all fresh and ready to start using it. (insert picture of my head - not exploded - dropping onto my desk and smacking it hard)

Yeah, that's just not going to work for me. I mean, the whole point of the 504 was to try these modifications now, and then transition to a new classroom in January, if needed (i.e. if the modifications didn't help). Well, at this point, that's obviously not going to happen. Which of course isn't completely the school's fault. I mean, if we'd contacted them sooner, we'd be further in the process. But, it's still frustrating.

Also, I'm really feeling like no matter what we put on that 504, we're still going to need to end up switching to a new teacher/classroom. I mean, nothing on a piece of paper is going to make this woman nurturing. And that is what my baby needs. After Christmas break is just a natural time to make that transition. So, I responded to the counselor telling her that things seems to have gotten even worse and we were leaning heavily towards switching so I'd like to meet to talk sometime this week so we can (all) make that determination. She didn't seem thrilled. but agreed.

The other part of this is that I've had a wonderfully lovely offer from another parent whose kid is in Mrs L's class, who spends a lot of time in the classroom, to sit down and talk. I'm hoping she can offer me a more accurate picture (than my 5yo can) about what is actually going on. She may tell me that my kid's a hellion in the classroom (and if that's the case, I really hope she will tell me!), but I'm open to hear whatever insights she can offer.

So, I'm going to talk with this other parent tomorrow. And then to talk with the counselor, and principal (!) right afterwards. I wish hubby could come, but has to teach. So, it'll just be me. Send me supportive vibes tomorrow about 1:30, okay?

Today's lesson: Getting called into the Principal's office is just a scary for the "good kid" at 33 as it was a 9. Gulp...

A Little Help in the Christmas Spirit Department

A quick post to share a sweet story.

I was sitting with baby E tonight, reading him his requisite two books (they're part of our new bedtime routine, which I hesitate to "put out there", but appears to be going well). One of the books was a Christmas story. At the end is a big picture of the baby Jesus, up close of his face and his little hand. It's pretty much the same size as baby E. He sat through the whole book, which let me just tell ya, is a bit of an accomplishment. Even if he was babbling and trying to get me to turn the page before I'd finished reading it. To be fair, the text isn't all that great, though the art is quite beautiful.

Anywho, at the end when we got to the head and hand of the infant Jesus, baby E carefully stroked his face. Then leaned in and planted a big wet kiss on right on the baby's mouth. I think there was tongue. Then he repeatedly high fived baby Jesus. And then repeated the whole thing all over again. I do think the kissing was sweet as could be. But, the high fiving was my absolute favorite. While it was all a bit sacrilegious, I'm pretty sure the Savior would approve. You know, he did say to bring the children to him. Not sure he thought there would be tongue involved, but, well you know, I'm sure the high fives at least were more than welcome.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Today's lesson: Sometimes the Christmas Spirit comes from the most unexpected sources. Or at least in the most irreverent ways.

His First Tooth

My baby lost his first tooth. It was the first tooth he got as a 3 and a 1/2 month old. It is the first tooth for him to lose, at 5 and 3/4ths years. That tooth was a surprise. We were camping and I looked down in that little mouth finding, much to my surprise, a pearly white sliver in his little mouth. I was shocked. I mean, he'd had no signs of teething and he was so young. Yet there it was. My tiny baby, was growing up. Getting teeth. Shortly thereafter he got another, and soon 2 more. He looked so different. The gummy grin was gone. It changed his looks so much. It changed the way I thought about him. He went from newborn baby, to baby-baby. The first of many changes.

This tooth, it's been wiggling for a couple of weeks. He's said it felt funny. Then, tonight, once I showed him the tooth fairy pillow his Gram got him several years ago - it has Superman on it - he went straight to the bathroom and started working on it. He managed to finagle it out of his mouth almost all on his own with only a little assistance from his Poppa.  I walked into the bathroom and he was grinning, with red-tinged spit trailing down his chin, holding that tooth in his hand. Immensely proud of himself.

I never imagined that my baby losing a tooth would be such a big milestone. That it would be such an emotional milestone for his momma. He looks different already. So very different. And I think he is different. Even more so than Kindergarten, losing teeth is apparently such a passageway from little to big kid-ness. At least for this momma.

As I kissed him good night, he asked, "Momma, are you sad?". I told him I was, but it was happy-sad. He smiled and kissed my cheek. He whispered, "I know. Love you, Momma" and laid down. I warned him not to touch that pillow or the tooth fairy wouldn't come. He laid so still, hardly breathing. Still, I'm pretty sure I'll go in there to exchange tooth for money and the tooth will be missing due to him having played with it. Because even if he's growing up, he's still my little boy. And even something a momentous as losing his first tooth, won't change the essence of who he is.

He will always be my little boy. Even without those original, tiny teeth.

Today's lesson: Sometimes the important moments are small and unexpected. They sneak up on you in a wonderful way. They change not the way things are, but the way you see them.

Holiday Spirit

I'm finding it really hard to get "into" Christmas this year. I know it's still a couple of weeks away, but I'm just not feelin' it. Maybe it's because the weather's been nothing Christmas-like at all. Or the pure exhaustion from cumulative lack of sleep the whole live-long year. Or the stress related to the kid's school crap. Or the daily (big) changes at work. Or the anxiety of starting a new job (this will be the 3rd year I've gone into the new year about to start a new job - oh, I hadn't told you about that? Another day, promise). Or just that it's been a challenging and sometimes painful year all 'round. I don't know. But whatever the cause, I haven't yet found my bag 'o Christmas Cheer.

I've tried. I've made and decorated homemade ornaments with my kiddo. I've put on the Christmas music. I've sung Christmas songs to the boys when I'm putting them to bed. I've done some shopping (though heaven knows I still have tons to do, which isn't typical for me). I've made some homemade gifts. I've watched (uh, several) Hallmark Christmas movies. I made for and watched with the kid a Santa video from Portable North Pole (which was priceless). But mostly, it all seems forced. Except the Hallmark movies. Those I kind of love. Don't judge. (I can't be the only one, otherwise there wouldn't be a whole channel. So fess on up, people.)

And of course I know that Christmas is about the baby Jesus and all that jazz. And I'm trying to connect with that, too, but it just ain't happenin'.

So it all makes me wonder, why do we have such high expectations for the holidays? That they're supposed to be this joyous, magical time of year? And maybe that's what I feel like the expectation is supposed to be, and it's just my issue. But I seem to see/hear a lot of people talk about everything the holidays are supposed to be. And do I want my kid to have that magical experience? Well, of course. But it just seems unrealistic. And pretty impossible. Or at least I have no idea how to do it. It feels like another parenting "FAIL". Which I feel like I've had a lot of lately. And that defeatist attitude probably isn't helping me any either.

Today's lesson: magical-shmagical. Sometimes the best you can do it simply get through something. And the holidays may just be one of those things for you, too. And that is okay. Or at least that's what I'm going to tell myself until I find that elusive holiday spirit. Or the holidays are over. One of the two...

And then, we still weren't sleeping

So, maybe it  feels like I'm beating a dead horse with this topic, because really what else could I have to say, and yet here it is... We're not sleeping here at my house. Yeah, still. It's been more than a year and this crazy baby is still up every 2-3 hours. Thought lately it seems like it's been more like every 1.5-2 hours. It's the epitome of awesomeness. Or the antithesis. One of those. Although one night recently he did sleep 9 hours straight. I'm betting it won't happen again for another month. 'Cause that's how things roll at my house.

And I'm just tired. I'm beyond tired. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted. I have moments where I am on the brink of a breakdown. The moments seem to come more often of late. They're moments when I just can't deal with whatever it is that's going on, which is usually related to my sweet kid. He is getting the brunt of it. I sort of hate myself for that at times because I know it's not his fault. I know he's innocent and already struggling himself because of all the ridiculous school stuff. (Sigh) But, it is what it is right now.

So, I'm feeling desperate. Like almost to the point of going the CIO (cry it out) route with baby E, because, seriously, I just don't know what else to do. I've been sleeping on the floor of his room with my arm in his crib for much of this week. Because, sadly, I still seem to get more sleep that way than if he's in there alone, or even in our bed. It hurts, as in I can hardly move today because my back hurts so much. However, I'm at a loss of what else to do.

Everything we did with the kid and all the suggestions I've given to other parents, none of them have worked. Sometimes he'll sleep 7-9 hours (though those are rare, like once every couple of weeks), but most of the time he's up several times a night. And those times he's up, he lately is crying, not screaming, but crying, just until we either pick him up or pat on him. He'll eventually for back to sleep, but it's short-lived. Up until a couple of months ago, he was just grunting and it was only minutes til he was back asleep. Now, though, it's more like 10-15 minutes. Long enough that I'm fully awake and it takes awhile to get back to sleep.

And I can't pick out any kind of a pattern as to when he does sleep. I mean, it's usually when he's had 2 good uninterrupted naps in the day, but getting those naps is by no means a guarantee that he will sleep all night. On the nights he does sleep, he's usually taken 8+oz while nursing just before bed, but, again, just because he does have that much doesn't mean he'll sleep. But those two things are about the only factors I've identified. Beyond that, I got nothin'.  Other than frustration and exhaustion. Those I've got a-plenty.

Today's lesson - the baby knows when you're complaining about him and will inevitably wake up and fuss. Just to prove to you that he knows you're talking about him and doesn't appreciate it. And that you'd better get in there and pat his butt before he screams, and wakes up his brother. Because that's even less of a fun party.

Family Pictures

I thought it might be nice for you for me to share some pictures, ya know, since I've been so wordy and whiny lately. My fabulously talented friend Misty at Something Borrowed Photography took these pics for us about a month ago. If you're local and in the market for some pics, you should check her out!!

So, here's my boys and my momma. Love this one! It may be my favorite out of the whole group.

Oh, be still my heart! I mean, look at that handsome face! How could someone be so mean to that beautiful little boy???

And this one, such a dear, funny little creature. Now, if only he'd start to sleep in more than 3 hour chunks...

Me and my kiddo.

Me and my babe.

The fam. Not too terrible, if I do say so myself!

Today's lesson - it's interesting how pictures can teach us things about ourselves. It's interesting how we can fool ourselves by looking in mirrors. Fool ourselves into only seeing what we're comfortable with. It's interesting how pictures, somehow, seem to make it harder to continue to live ostrich-like. It's interesting how those 2 dimensional representations of us, can sometimes be more realistic than our 3 dimensional selves that we live in every day.

Little signs

Sometimes the right thing shows up at the right time. For me, feeling worried about the kid as I droppped him off at school earlier this week and starting to doubt (again) that I'm overreacting about how things are going for him there, THIS article/post showed up on my google reader. And while it talks about what a 4 year old really needs to know, I think it still rings very true for my sweet 5 year old. As one of the commenters says so eloquently, "It's a wonderful reminder that my child is not on a racetrack, but rather a slow winding road". Ahhh, I love that imagery.

I still have the form the counselor gave me to have the pediatrician fill out. Mostly this is because I simply haven't had the time to fill it out and drop it off to the ped to have her sign it. But, the incident earlier this week has been the impetus I needed to get that sucker filled out and back to the school. So, it's all filled out and waiting for hubby to take it in the morning. I'm sending good vibes with the form, that good things and changes are on their way. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

Today's lesson - little lessons are all around us. We need only be open to them.