Of Letting it All Out

I've realized part of why my son's middle-of-the-night feeding habits have not at all slowed down is because I have done little to allow him the opportunity.  The slightest sound of squirming at the right time in his "schedule" finds me hurrying to lift him from his resting place to eat, for fear he might soon cry.  Why I fear the crying, I'm not so sure, considering my husband might possibly sleep through a freight train running through our living room and our older children are also rather sound sleepers (or at least are very skilled at dropping back to sleep almost instantaneously).  So, why I worry Little Guy might let out a wail, I'm not so sure.

I've realized, though, the lengthier periods between feedings during the day come when he is allowed to cry for a minute or two (I'm a mother of three, seriously, my daytime hours are not spent waiting to halt the possible fussiness of this newest one, rather praying he'll hold out just a little longer while I finish preparing dinner or changing diapers or whatever other tasks come up) before nodding back off to sleep.

Thus, I had recently decided to employ this trick (you know, the one I don't hesitate to do when they're all the way in the other room, but somehow fail at when they're right next to me) at night before rushing to feed him or even just pulling him into bed so he'll go right back to sleep.  I didn't necessarily plan on running around being busy while he fusses (that's just silly), but waiting him out just a little - because, honestly, most times he doesn't wail.  He wakes, squirms, grunts and settles down again.  But I hadn't been patient enough to realize this fact.

This morning, then, was really the first time I truly held out when, at 5am, after laying him back to bed after feeding, he promptly began wiggling and grunting - which would typically prompt me to pick him back up, either for burping the squirmy worm or just letting him rest beside me.

I waited for a half hour as he made the most adorable sounds - sounds I'd missed previously because I'd been too afraid of the crying.  He kicked, waved his arms, cooed (so cute!), squeaked, squawked, squealed, grunted and giggled (just a little) and just all around made a jungle of wild baby noises.  And I waited, with a small part of me wishing he would settle so I could sleep, but the larger majority just grateful for these tiny noises that won't last long.

Finally, I heard something different - the distinct symphony of this little guy filling his diaper.

Almost instantaneously all other noises stopped as his eyes drifted closed and he fell asleep.

Apparently, sometimes it just takes a little work to get that junk out of your system.

1,000 Gifts:
121. Butter and oil, with a dash of salt, thrown into the stand mixer for [almost] homemade spreadable butter - absolutely delicious.
122. No-Bake Cookies melting in my mouth
123. Enchiladas - the third night in a row of uncontested dinners on the part of our three-year-old - total win.
124. Wooden cake, offered ever-so-generously.
125. The tuft of curls atop the head on the sheep of my favorite onesie.
126. Piano keys tickled by my musically-inclined daughter.


Taking Time for Play: Party Time
Micaiah had some friends over for a couple of hours today - it's always a party with good friends and a reason for dress-up!

PS, I'd like you to note the fourth participant to the party, hidden on the right side of the photo - he was a little distracted by Elmo but he totally had on his party attire, as well.


And a few further photos of today:

Clearly, his expression makes this shot.

 Tiny Man spent some time on the floor today, gazing out the window.  He literally laid here for a half hour doing nothing but kicking his legs, waving his arms and staring outside.  I think he kinda liked it.

 In case you were wondering, this is was the view he had.

And this was the view I had.

All tuckered out from his moment in the sun.

Of Schedules

As Micaiah turned one, I was in the midst of taking a literature class at my alma mater, "just for fun."  During this same semester, I learned I was pregnant with my second one.  Dealing with a not-yet-walking one-year-old and a rough bout of morning sickness, I found myself overwhelmed with assignments to read hundreds of pages in only two days.  I was definitely not a college student anymore, and even just one class was going to do me in.

My only coping mechanism was to develop a schedule for myself.  So I opened up Excel and mapped it all out - every hour of my day was assigned a task, with many of them taken up by reading.  Even checking my e-mail had its place.  Though I often questioned the logic behind sacrificing family time for reading Edith Warton, I did survive the semester, and even managed to write a 14-page research paper while downing Gatorade and soda crackers and trying to keep it all down.

Point being, budgeting my time, as with money, allowed me to tell my time what it was doing rather than wondering where it all went.

Though I'm definitely not taking another college class at this time (because, clearly, I'm not insane), I find myself, as a mother of three, in need of a little structure.  Because lately my days have ended with me wondering how the house, which I swore I'd clean, was still a mess and what on earth I did with my time for the day, other than brushing off the kids who want to play and feeding the little one who can't be ignored.

Coupled with the feelings posted yesterday, I created a new schedule.  My e-mail has a much smaller place in my day and my children are allotted much more of my attention.  We'll practice Bible verses at breakfast and work together to keep the house clean.  I know it's sad when I have to let my Excel spreadsheet tell me when to play with my kids, but it's better than not playing at all.  And, hopefully, it will someday be such a habit to ignore that laptop and settle onto the floor, singing songs with my small ones, I won't need a written schedule to tell me how it should be done.

Today was Day One of the new schedule and it went as well as I had hoped.  Though the colored slots look rigid on paper, I'm allowing for the flexibility of a newborn who needs to eat on his time, not necessarily mine, and a daughter who may not feel like working on "homework" (it's the word she came up with, not me) during the allotted time.  And I'm okay with that - the point is spending time with them, not being their drill sergeant.

I can't guarantee I won't wake up next week too exhausted to pay attention to what I should be doing, but for today I feel responsible and attentive, so let's dwell on that, shall we?

1,000 Gifts:
43. Rain pattering on the fireplace flue.
44. A dying battery on a re-discovered toy that is being shared between brother and sister.
45. A little boy declaring, "Daddy home!"
46. A gift broken: The Stoneware I cracked while making dinner that, thankfully, is still usable (for now).
47. A gift fixed: The puzzle pieces my daughter insist be glued together so the elephant can be "fixed" - she doesn't recognize it's his "brokenness" that helps us make him whole.
48. A gift thrifted: These garage sale couches which catch our weariness every day.


Taking Time for Play: An Animal:


All three of my animals settled near the fireplace, watching Caillou together this afternoon, and as I snapped photos of my newborn, clad in his monkey pj's, resting on his brother's animal blanket, a song played from the television about big brothers and big sisters and how great they are.  Precious moments captured - I am "Lucky," indeed.

Of Resting

Our little man was so tuckered out this afternoon, this is how we found him when my husband and I turned from enjoying our lunch of pizza from the couch:

Needless to say, a nap was the next thing on his schedule.  Micaiah, too, was ready to rest after her tough battle with gravity which she lost on our driveway this morning.  I did not witness the scuffle as she dashed to retrieve our Sunday paper, but I do know the lesson she learned was, "I no run.  I be careful."  Regardless, she bears the battle wounds:

Thus, after such a rough and tiring morning, both of our babies settled in for a solid four hour nap this afternoon.  At least we know they were well-rested.