For several weeks, my sleep went down the crapper. Not just nighttime, either--but naps. For some reason I wasn't getting any. She would thrash, and then not sleep long enough for me to fall asleep anyway.
This was disheartening since I gave up wheat (again) to try to remedy bad sleep. And it seemed to be working...for about three days. Then we had several more weeks of crappy sleep.
Then I did a little a little thinking/triangulation and realized this particular bout of sleep deprivation and realized that it started round about when I decided to sample a pint of goats' milk vanilla yogurt.
MMMMMmmmmm. Creamy vanilla goodness (for those of you who are thinking, Goat milk yogurt? Ugh, may I remind you that I haven't had any dairy for eleven months?). I bought another pint. And another. I was on my fourth in about three weeks.
Anything that tasted that good just had to be giving Lucy problems, right?
Two days of no yogurt, and she's been sleeping much much much better. And taking actual naps!
Much as I love creamy vanilla goodness, I love sleep more.
I wonder: you can make ice cream from breastmilk? Perhaps I should try pumping again.
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Monday, July 9, 2007
developments
There have been some exciting developments around here.
1. The Chaos. This is when you're first starting out, and the baby has stopped sleeping magically wherever they land, and no one sent you the memo that naps are actually work and take effort and so you're wondering why the baby is yelling at you all day, because if she were tired wouldn't she sleep?
2. The Schedule. This is the somewhat militant phase, but the also charmingly predictable phase. She naps at 9:30 am and 1:30 pm, you say, with military precision. Then you add, (less charmingly), So why the hell are you inviting us over at 2 pm? You know that's just not feasible. This is especially true when the baby is still taking three naps. Three naps require the coordination skills of Martha Stewart, and about the same amount of bitchiness. You have to protect those naps, dammit.
3. The Schedule That Doesn't Work Anymore. Phase 2 devolves into Phase 3 as soon as the baby is ready for a new nap Schedule. The problem is that the baby does not send you a memo (nor does she page Martha Stewart). And since you've gotten bitchy and inflexible about the Schedule, you persist with the old Schedule for days, and wonder what is wrong with the baby that is no longer falling asleep according to her contractual obligations.
4. The Jerryrigged schedule. This is a schedule that is turning into a Schedule. This is where we are right now. It may involve alternating days (one day two naps, the next one nap). It may involve experimenting with longer and longer periods before the nap so the baby only takes one nap on a day she might probably do better with two, so that you can put her to bed early and watch Law and Order with your husband instead of commenting about how adorable your baby is at night. For the fifth time. Somewhat bitterly. The great thing about this schedule is the possibility of one nap! (or two, from last time we were in this phase). This means a lot less work and more flexibility!) The problem is this nap schedule is exciting which is code for stressful. You put them to sleep hoping they'll sleep 2 hours like they did yesterday, in which case they'll be charming the rest of the day. Instead they wake after 45 minutes and act like Pol Pot. You have more riding on success with this schedule, whereas with Schedule 1, you just stick to the hourly chart and if they wake up early or late, it's not so big of a deal.
So there you go. There's my nap theory. I know, brilliant.
- We bought a new fridge. We'd been talking about it a while (after seeing An Inconvenient Truth and learning that our charmingly ancient fridge was an electricity guzzler), and on Saturday we just went out and bought one. Just like that. Sometimes it feels like you should need a license or a class or legal counsel to buy things like fridges, but you don't. All it takes is a trip to Sears and a charge card. Oh, and maybe money in the savings account to pay off the card.
- My hair turned fabulous last night. Well, fabulous might be overstating it, but it was day two of no washing (my goal was last three days with no shampoo) and I looked in the mirror and it looked tousled and slightly wavy, and fine, and I was completely fine not washing it that night. Before, it had been a grit my teeth kind of ascetic not-washing. Then this morning I woke up and ran to the mirror and it still looked fine, and I squeezed a little water into it and then it even might have qualified as fabulous. The excitement! I had to wet it while taking a shower later on and I was a little disappointed. So my experiment has been a sucess, and I might not even wash it tonight. So there. (Note: my idea of fabulous is more than okay to go out in public with absolutely zero effort. I think I have low standards.)
- We are now in a period of nap transition. We are a little shocked that Lucy seems to be ready for one nap (yes, she is advanced for her age) but she seems to be ready. Actually, what I want to write is too complicated to put into one bullet, so I am transitioning out of bullets:
1. The Chaos. This is when you're first starting out, and the baby has stopped sleeping magically wherever they land, and no one sent you the memo that naps are actually work and take effort and so you're wondering why the baby is yelling at you all day, because if she were tired wouldn't she sleep?
2. The Schedule. This is the somewhat militant phase, but the also charmingly predictable phase. She naps at 9:30 am and 1:30 pm, you say, with military precision. Then you add, (less charmingly), So why the hell are you inviting us over at 2 pm? You know that's just not feasible. This is especially true when the baby is still taking three naps. Three naps require the coordination skills of Martha Stewart, and about the same amount of bitchiness. You have to protect those naps, dammit.
3. The Schedule That Doesn't Work Anymore. Phase 2 devolves into Phase 3 as soon as the baby is ready for a new nap Schedule. The problem is that the baby does not send you a memo (nor does she page Martha Stewart). And since you've gotten bitchy and inflexible about the Schedule, you persist with the old Schedule for days, and wonder what is wrong with the baby that is no longer falling asleep according to her contractual obligations.
4. The Jerryrigged schedule. This is a schedule that is turning into a Schedule. This is where we are right now. It may involve alternating days (one day two naps, the next one nap). It may involve experimenting with longer and longer periods before the nap so the baby only takes one nap on a day she might probably do better with two, so that you can put her to bed early and watch Law and Order with your husband instead of commenting about how adorable your baby is at night. For the fifth time. Somewhat bitterly. The great thing about this schedule is the possibility of one nap! (or two, from last time we were in this phase). This means a lot less work and more flexibility!) The problem is this nap schedule is exciting which is code for stressful. You put them to sleep hoping they'll sleep 2 hours like they did yesterday, in which case they'll be charming the rest of the day. Instead they wake after 45 minutes and act like Pol Pot. You have more riding on success with this schedule, whereas with Schedule 1, you just stick to the hourly chart and if they wake up early or late, it's not so big of a deal.
So there you go. There's my nap theory. I know, brilliant.
Friday, June 8, 2007
righteous anger
So Lucy woke up this morning at five.
Five!
That was after two other wakeups and a normal bedtime. No particular reason why she should have woken early. (I know, I know, besides the fact that she's a baby).
After 40 minutes of nursing/bathroom breaks where she screamed/random tickling (read: super-annoying) with her flailing arms/her pausing during sucking and gumming my nipple (ouch!) I got up in a very foul mood.
I went into the prone position on the bed and prayed. Because I was in a very foul mood and I was blaming all the wakeups on Dyami.
I know, I know, this makes little sense. But see, he had the audacity to sleep while I was getting up. And not move when I was traipsing back and forth from the bathroom to the bed. And to ask if I needed anything when I got up the last time (to which I said, very severely, No.)
So I prayed, because I knew my anger was tiredness-induced and not necessarily justified (possibly, but not necessarily). Then he made things a little better by rolling over and getting up with us.
So I announced, "I'm in a REALLY BAD MOOD."
He nodded, and took care of Lucy while I went into the kitchen and made some eggs to calm my grumbling tummy. And just my grumbling.
When he came in a few minutes later, I was in a slightly better mood. I told him I had been praying that I wouldn't be quite so pissed off at him for Lucy waking up. Because I realized it maybe wasn't completely rational anger.
He laughed and thanked me for realizing that (this time). "Maybe we should give you the water bottle so you can squirt me every time Lucy wakes up. Then we can all suffer together."
I brightened up considerably and went to fetch the water bottle. He thinks he was kidding. Hahahahaha.
Five!
That was after two other wakeups and a normal bedtime. No particular reason why she should have woken early. (I know, I know, besides the fact that she's a baby).
After 40 minutes of nursing/bathroom breaks where she screamed/random tickling (read: super-annoying) with her flailing arms/her pausing during sucking and gumming my nipple (ouch!) I got up in a very foul mood.
I went into the prone position on the bed and prayed. Because I was in a very foul mood and I was blaming all the wakeups on Dyami.
I know, I know, this makes little sense. But see, he had the audacity to sleep while I was getting up. And not move when I was traipsing back and forth from the bathroom to the bed. And to ask if I needed anything when I got up the last time (to which I said, very severely, No.)
So I prayed, because I knew my anger was tiredness-induced and not necessarily justified (possibly, but not necessarily). Then he made things a little better by rolling over and getting up with us.
So I announced, "I'm in a REALLY BAD MOOD."
He nodded, and took care of Lucy while I went into the kitchen and made some eggs to calm my grumbling tummy. And just my grumbling.
When he came in a few minutes later, I was in a slightly better mood. I told him I had been praying that I wouldn't be quite so pissed off at him for Lucy waking up. Because I realized it maybe wasn't completely rational anger.
He laughed and thanked me for realizing that (this time). "Maybe we should give you the water bottle so you can squirt me every time Lucy wakes up. Then we can all suffer together."
I brightened up considerably and went to fetch the water bottle. He thinks he was kidding. Hahahahaha.
Friday, May 25, 2007
turning thirty
The cool thing about turning thirty today is that because it's such an important birthday, I get a free pass from the hard work of motherhood, and can just enjoy my baby while someone else takes care of her while she's cranky from not sleeping much last night. I especially appreciated that last night, when someone else woke up with her every half-hour until two. And someone else also gets to suffer from my blossoming cold that's keeping me indoors and might otherwise put the kaibosh on the fun plans I had for today.
Oh, wait.
Oh, wait.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
'nuff said
The Lactivist posted about "the dark side of breastfeeding" today.
I really liked her post. So much so that this inveterate lurker actually commented!
If you haven't breastfed before, and are thinking about having kids that you breastfeed, you should read the post. I wish I had had this kind of perspective before I started, because I think the rude awakening would have been a bit less rude.
Don't get me wrong, I think breastfeeding is absolutely the right choice. I'm not at all sorry that I'm doing it, just as I'm not sorry I had a baby. But some days, I think, what the *&@$^! was I thinking? Like last night, when I woke with a splitting no-caffeine headache at 1:30 am when Lucy woke, and as she nursed, I realized the headache had spread to my stomach, so I was wondering if I was going to barf as she wiggled and didn't go back to sleep. Oh, and our night light is a blue LED light which is apparently at the optimum headache-increasing spectrum.
Ohhhhhhhh. It makes me nauseous just remembering.
SO. Go see the Lactivist! Now!
ps. Someone needs to wean herself off of that second tea she's been sneaking in the late morning. Because I don't want to increase my caffeine addiction. And I don't want any more 1 am headaches.
I really liked her post. So much so that this inveterate lurker actually commented!
If you haven't breastfed before, and are thinking about having kids that you breastfeed, you should read the post. I wish I had had this kind of perspective before I started, because I think the rude awakening would have been a bit less rude.
Don't get me wrong, I think breastfeeding is absolutely the right choice. I'm not at all sorry that I'm doing it, just as I'm not sorry I had a baby. But some days, I think, what the *&@$^! was I thinking? Like last night, when I woke with a splitting no-caffeine headache at 1:30 am when Lucy woke, and as she nursed, I realized the headache had spread to my stomach, so I was wondering if I was going to barf as she wiggled and didn't go back to sleep. Oh, and our night light is a blue LED light which is apparently at the optimum headache-increasing spectrum.
Ohhhhhhhh. It makes me nauseous just remembering.
SO. Go see the Lactivist! Now!
ps. Someone needs to wean herself off of that second tea she's been sneaking in the late morning. Because I don't want to increase my caffeine addiction. And I don't want any more 1 am headaches.
Monday, May 14, 2007
portable
My daughter is getting downright flexible.
First there was the car ride to and from Ojai, in which we had some crying and unpleasantness, but not during the majority of the trip.
Then there was the day trips in the car; getting in and out of her car seat several times, overstaying past her tiredness, being out after dark, and generally messing with her schedule, and no major screaming fits! And even some completely peaceful rides when I least expected it!
And finally, there was the realization that when distracted, the little girl can go for hours (hours!) in between her two naps. Meaning that we could stay out places leisurely, without looking at a clock, and/or deliberately space her naps so that her bedtime would be later, so that we could actually have a family dinner out one night!
And I also had some wheat this weekend. Once because I thought, what the hell and once because the choices for lunch were Subway and Jamba Juice, and I just went for a sub. And there was some mild digestive problems, but nothing not livable. (And it may have been due to the Chipotle we had for dinner Sat night, which has also resulted in mild GI distress).
What's next, the solution to global warming?
We took advantage of said flexibility last night when we went to church. I got to sing at our nighttime service (woo hoo!) and afterwards, we talked to people and then we went out to dinner. Fidels! Yum! Sure, we sat on our own for maximum speed, ordered ate and checked out like speed demons, but we were able to do it. And she was actually smiling on the car ride home! And went to bed and slept just fine. And is still sleeping at quarter past eight! (Okay, she woke up at 4:30 and kept me up until 7:15, at which point I gave up on me sleeping, but still, at least I had time to make tea!)
I had time to fantasize about us actually going on a real trip. Someplace exotic, like Mexico. And actually enjoying myself, rather than being a stress case.
It could happen, people.
First there was the car ride to and from Ojai, in which we had some crying and unpleasantness, but not during the majority of the trip.
Then there was the day trips in the car; getting in and out of her car seat several times, overstaying past her tiredness, being out after dark, and generally messing with her schedule, and no major screaming fits! And even some completely peaceful rides when I least expected it!
And finally, there was the realization that when distracted, the little girl can go for hours (hours!) in between her two naps. Meaning that we could stay out places leisurely, without looking at a clock, and/or deliberately space her naps so that her bedtime would be later, so that we could actually have a family dinner out one night!
And I also had some wheat this weekend. Once because I thought, what the hell and once because the choices for lunch were Subway and Jamba Juice, and I just went for a sub. And there was some mild digestive problems, but nothing not livable. (And it may have been due to the Chipotle we had for dinner Sat night, which has also resulted in mild GI distress).
What's next, the solution to global warming?
We took advantage of said flexibility last night when we went to church. I got to sing at our nighttime service (woo hoo!) and afterwards, we talked to people and then we went out to dinner. Fidels! Yum! Sure, we sat on our own for maximum speed, ordered ate and checked out like speed demons, but we were able to do it. And she was actually smiling on the car ride home! And went to bed and slept just fine. And is still sleeping at quarter past eight! (Okay, she woke up at 4:30 and kept me up until 7:15, at which point I gave up on me sleeping, but still, at least I had time to make tea!)
I had time to fantasize about us actually going on a real trip. Someplace exotic, like Mexico. And actually enjoying myself, rather than being a stress case.
It could happen, people.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
miracles upon miracles
It is eight pm. I am in Ojai, in the chicken coop. I am typing. I have just finished a leisurely brownie, and some seltzer water. I am relaxed.
My baby is sleeping in the other room, and she might even stay asleep.
Let's pause for a moment to just savor those two paragraphs.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
This is such a different experience than last time, I can hardly believe it. Last time we arrived (trip was fine) and Lucy had about three major meltdowns between arrival and bedtime (which was another meltdown). This is a baby that doesn't melt down very often. Then we didn't sleep the whole night.
The rest of the trip was less eventful, but not super-relaxing.
In contrast, today we drove (drove! imagine!) three hours with only maybe a half-hour of fussiness, total. The rest of the time she was either happy or asleep! (We stopped several times along the way, but all things considered, the trip didn't take us that long)
She had no meltdowns. She had minor fussiness and shyness at Nana and Poppa's house (my in-laws). She got mildly fussy a bit after bedtime and then fell asleep pretty easily.
Best news: she is now in her hammock bed (which we brought along, a major reason we drove) and so she is in a familiar place! So she might even stay asleep tonight!
I know, I know, it's such a crazy concept, I can hardly believe it myself.
A major weight has been taken off of my shoulders.
In other good news, my fabulous husband got me an hour massage today with a great person here in Ojai. Which helped with the relaxing.
And my fabulous mom-in-law made us brownies. Gluten-free. Does she love me, or what?
Speaking of which, I'm going to go have another one. And then I'm going to relax some more.
My baby is sleeping in the other room, and she might even stay asleep.
Let's pause for a moment to just savor those two paragraphs.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
This is such a different experience than last time, I can hardly believe it. Last time we arrived (trip was fine) and Lucy had about three major meltdowns between arrival and bedtime (which was another meltdown). This is a baby that doesn't melt down very often. Then we didn't sleep the whole night.
The rest of the trip was less eventful, but not super-relaxing.
In contrast, today we drove (drove! imagine!) three hours with only maybe a half-hour of fussiness, total. The rest of the time she was either happy or asleep! (We stopped several times along the way, but all things considered, the trip didn't take us that long)
She had no meltdowns. She had minor fussiness and shyness at Nana and Poppa's house (my in-laws). She got mildly fussy a bit after bedtime and then fell asleep pretty easily.
Best news: she is now in her hammock bed (which we brought along, a major reason we drove) and so she is in a familiar place! So she might even stay asleep tonight!
I know, I know, it's such a crazy concept, I can hardly believe it myself.
A major weight has been taken off of my shoulders.
In other good news, my fabulous husband got me an hour massage today with a great person here in Ojai. Which helped with the relaxing.
And my fabulous mom-in-law made us brownies. Gluten-free. Does she love me, or what?
Speaking of which, I'm going to go have another one. And then I'm going to relax some more.
Monday, May 7, 2007
travelling
So we're going to Ojai to visit my in-laws tomorrow.
I am, in many ways, quite delighted to be going. My inlaws are great (parents, bros and sisters) and it's been forever since we've been able to see them. Ojai is great, and we're taking a car, so we'll be able to get out a bit. The weather should be nice. And Dyami has six days off of work.
So why am I not exactly looking forward to the trip?
I think it's the vestiges of the last trip, where we had a fabulous time with Dyami's family, I slept very little, got a cold, Dyami got sick, Lucy got sick, and then we didn't sleep for the next month. I was just the tiniest bit unhappy for a long while.
Right now Lucy isn't sleeping that great (I think it's because we're transitioning her to a mattress instead of her hammock bed) and so the palpitations have started.
Breathe, Heather, breathe.
Most of me knows that Lucy is a completely different animal than she was at three months, that I know much better how to deal with her ups and downs, and am more resilient. Plus it's not winter, so the chances of everyone being sick are much lower.
But who ever said anxiety was defeated by head knowledge?
I have been asking people to pray for me. I don't want to have a nervous breakdown the first night (like I did last time) and subject my husband to my anxieties. I would just like to enjoy being there, like I used to. I would like to be more relaxed, in general.
I would also like to be a bestselling novellist. Or short-story writer.
One can pray, right?
I am, in many ways, quite delighted to be going. My inlaws are great (parents, bros and sisters) and it's been forever since we've been able to see them. Ojai is great, and we're taking a car, so we'll be able to get out a bit. The weather should be nice. And Dyami has six days off of work.
So why am I not exactly looking forward to the trip?
I think it's the vestiges of the last trip, where we had a fabulous time with Dyami's family, I slept very little, got a cold, Dyami got sick, Lucy got sick, and then we didn't sleep for the next month. I was just the tiniest bit unhappy for a long while.
Right now Lucy isn't sleeping that great (I think it's because we're transitioning her to a mattress instead of her hammock bed) and so the palpitations have started.
Breathe, Heather, breathe.
Most of me knows that Lucy is a completely different animal than she was at three months, that I know much better how to deal with her ups and downs, and am more resilient. Plus it's not winter, so the chances of everyone being sick are much lower.
But who ever said anxiety was defeated by head knowledge?
I have been asking people to pray for me. I don't want to have a nervous breakdown the first night (like I did last time) and subject my husband to my anxieties. I would just like to enjoy being there, like I used to. I would like to be more relaxed, in general.
I would also like to be a bestselling novellist. Or short-story writer.
One can pray, right?
Friday, May 4, 2007
I think
Lucy's teething. Or growing. Or has adolescent angst.
There has to be some reason she woke up five times last night, right?
It's not just random, right?
Or worse, deliberate?
Tea. (Groan) I need tea.
There has to be some reason she woke up five times last night, right?
It's not just random, right?
Or worse, deliberate?
Tea. (Groan) I need tea.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
surviving
So on Monday night and Tuesday night, Dyami woke to hear me cussing. I hesitate to tell you which word, because you'll realize I'm a bad person, completely unsuited for motherhood. Sigh. Okay, I'll give you a hint: it rhymed with duck.
Anyway, I said it a lot. As I was trying to get Lucy to fall asleep after a few hours of trying (5.5 hours on Monday. Fewer hours, but later, on Tuesday).
I don't know about you, but the mental image I have of myself is spouting bad cuss words in the middle of the night. Not the image I want Dyami carrying around, either.
Thankfully, there was no cussing last night. However, I did rant for a while. I'm not sure how long. (Doesn't ranting just make the time fly?) When Dyami pointed out that I was ranting, I got really pissed, and then about ten minutes later (after crying), found it really funny. Makes sense, right?
I felt a little better after meeting with some moms this morning. Turns out three of the four of us had some sort of meltdown last night. So I'm doing about average. Whoopee!
I have realized that one does not emerge from the first year of mommyhood unscathed. One would desire to approach the experience with boldness, grace, and emerge stronger for it. Get our hair mussed, perhaps, but not feel like Valium was called for. Not for our sanity so much, but for the sanity of those that have to live with us.
Question: Why am I using the royal "we"?
I joke about my midnight f-bombs, but in reality, I'm ashamed. Why do I have such anxiety? Why do I let my fear get so ugly? Where is my peace, my joy, my unshakable foundation in the Spirit?
Scary thought: I'm doing much better than I was a few months ago! And these past few nights have been tough, but they have been by no means the worst I've been through! So why cussing now?
This ugliness was right below the surface, pre-Lucy. I'm just more raw, which is why all this stuff comes out now.
Also: I don't want the ugliness to get worse, when she's actually able to understand me better.
I have been praying more than usual, lately, which is possibly why I didn't get out the steak knives along with the f-bombs. But I would like to be doing better. To be better.
So how do I find grace and quiet strength in the middle of the night?
I don't have any answers for myself. (I tend to talk to myself a lot. When I'm not using the royal "we").
On the prayer site I've been trying to use, this was the reading this noon:
"O God, you will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on you; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength. " Isaiah 26:3; 30:15
I don't know what I'm returning to, but I want to turn that way. Badly. But my spirit is like balky stroller.
Oh, Lord, may I turn your way. And keep fixed on you. May I be strong, in the middle of the night. May you be Lord of my nights, as well as my days.
May my mouth be filled with your praise, and not--well, all those other things.
May it be filled with silence, if nothing else.
Anyway, I said it a lot. As I was trying to get Lucy to fall asleep after a few hours of trying (5.5 hours on Monday. Fewer hours, but later, on Tuesday).
I don't know about you, but the mental image I have of myself is spouting bad cuss words in the middle of the night. Not the image I want Dyami carrying around, either.
Thankfully, there was no cussing last night. However, I did rant for a while. I'm not sure how long. (Doesn't ranting just make the time fly?) When Dyami pointed out that I was ranting, I got really pissed, and then about ten minutes later (after crying), found it really funny. Makes sense, right?
I felt a little better after meeting with some moms this morning. Turns out three of the four of us had some sort of meltdown last night. So I'm doing about average. Whoopee!
I have realized that one does not emerge from the first year of mommyhood unscathed. One would desire to approach the experience with boldness, grace, and emerge stronger for it. Get our hair mussed, perhaps, but not feel like Valium was called for. Not for our sanity so much, but for the sanity of those that have to live with us.
Question: Why am I using the royal "we"?
I joke about my midnight f-bombs, but in reality, I'm ashamed. Why do I have such anxiety? Why do I let my fear get so ugly? Where is my peace, my joy, my unshakable foundation in the Spirit?
Scary thought: I'm doing much better than I was a few months ago! And these past few nights have been tough, but they have been by no means the worst I've been through! So why cussing now?
This ugliness was right below the surface, pre-Lucy. I'm just more raw, which is why all this stuff comes out now.
Also: I don't want the ugliness to get worse, when she's actually able to understand me better.
I have been praying more than usual, lately, which is possibly why I didn't get out the steak knives along with the f-bombs. But I would like to be doing better. To be better.
So how do I find grace and quiet strength in the middle of the night?
I don't have any answers for myself. (I tend to talk to myself a lot. When I'm not using the royal "we").
On the prayer site I've been trying to use, this was the reading this noon:
"O God, you will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on you; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength. " Isaiah 26:3; 30:15
I don't know what I'm returning to, but I want to turn that way. Badly. But my spirit is like balky stroller.
Oh, Lord, may I turn your way. And keep fixed on you. May I be strong, in the middle of the night. May you be Lord of my nights, as well as my days.
May my mouth be filled with your praise, and not--well, all those other things.
May it be filled with silence, if nothing else.
Monday, April 23, 2007
the rules
I realized last night that I navigate a set of rules as complex and exacting as the tax code.
They are the rules to get Lucy to sleep.
I'm not nearly as ritualistic about it as I used to be, but I am, well, just a tad legalistic. For example
1) I must wait approximately 4 hours after her last nap before putting her to sleep.
2) I must wait approximately 12 hours after she woke up in the morning before putting her to sleep.
Rules 1 and 2 mean that bedtime is as precisely timed as, say, the Space Shuttle launch. (5...4...3...2..1... bedtime!) It has been a little tricky lately, because she sometimes doesn't get the memo about when her bedtime is, and takes a third nap at 6:30, when we put her down. Do the math people. This means a late bedtime for Lucy. And no Adult Time for mom and dad. Boooooo.
3) I must nurse until her breathing slows and the gulping stops and the gaps between sucking grow longer and longer.
At some points, I have actually counted the spaces. I had to have longer spaces in between sucking than when she was actually sucking. (one, one-thousand. Two, one-thousand). Or counting breaths in between sucking. Or counting the number of times (generally three) she sucks without swallowing. There are many metrics I can use. Note: I'm not obsessive compulsive. Really, I'm not. Really.
4) I must nurse her on both sides.
This means I sometimes switch mid-bedtime nursing to go to the other side. I'm not one of those handy moms that figured out how to nurse on both sides without turning over (how do they do that? It seems so uncomfortable to me--I can never figure out what to do with my top arm) so I do the Chinese fire drill and run around the bed with pillows.
5) If she's hopelessly overtired, I have to get up and rock her to sleep with a little step, dip, step routine, until she's drowsy enough to get back down on the bed. Don't ask how I manage to lower us down onto the mattress with her still attached to my boob. I don't quite know myself.
6) Once I nurse her to sleep, she will sleep approximately an hour before she wakes up again. Then I nurse her to sleep, and usually (thank God) she's down for a while, sometimes even till morning.
Let's take a moment and savor that last sentence.
And I always find myself planning. If she wakes up, do I try the other side? Rock her? Let her get up? Take her to the bathroom?
Nursing requires such...attention. Especially to sleep. I have to gauge her leg movement and thrashing (just leg movement usually means she's not tired enough; back arching means she has to poop or she's over tired). I have to decipher her breathing (mostly asleep versus comatose). I have to distinguish between swallows (brisk and measured and slowing down). I have to gauge whether she needs to switch sides (unlatch + cry).
Basically, I should get a medal for every successful night-time nurse-down.
That's a lot of medals, people. Let's start 'em comin'.
They are the rules to get Lucy to sleep.
I'm not nearly as ritualistic about it as I used to be, but I am, well, just a tad legalistic. For example
1) I must wait approximately 4 hours after her last nap before putting her to sleep.
2) I must wait approximately 12 hours after she woke up in the morning before putting her to sleep.
Rules 1 and 2 mean that bedtime is as precisely timed as, say, the Space Shuttle launch. (5...4...3...2..1... bedtime!) It has been a little tricky lately, because she sometimes doesn't get the memo about when her bedtime is, and takes a third nap at 6:30, when we put her down. Do the math people. This means a late bedtime for Lucy. And no Adult Time for mom and dad. Boooooo.
3) I must nurse until her breathing slows and the gulping stops and the gaps between sucking grow longer and longer.
At some points, I have actually counted the spaces. I had to have longer spaces in between sucking than when she was actually sucking. (one, one-thousand. Two, one-thousand). Or counting breaths in between sucking. Or counting the number of times (generally three) she sucks without swallowing. There are many metrics I can use. Note: I'm not obsessive compulsive. Really, I'm not. Really.
4) I must nurse her on both sides.
This means I sometimes switch mid-bedtime nursing to go to the other side. I'm not one of those handy moms that figured out how to nurse on both sides without turning over (how do they do that? It seems so uncomfortable to me--I can never figure out what to do with my top arm) so I do the Chinese fire drill and run around the bed with pillows.
5) If she's hopelessly overtired, I have to get up and rock her to sleep with a little step, dip, step routine, until she's drowsy enough to get back down on the bed. Don't ask how I manage to lower us down onto the mattress with her still attached to my boob. I don't quite know myself.
6) Once I nurse her to sleep, she will sleep approximately an hour before she wakes up again. Then I nurse her to sleep, and usually (thank God) she's down for a while, sometimes even till morning.
Let's take a moment and savor that last sentence.
And I always find myself planning. If she wakes up, do I try the other side? Rock her? Let her get up? Take her to the bathroom?
Nursing requires such...attention. Especially to sleep. I have to gauge her leg movement and thrashing (just leg movement usually means she's not tired enough; back arching means she has to poop or she's over tired). I have to decipher her breathing (mostly asleep versus comatose). I have to distinguish between swallows (brisk and measured and slowing down). I have to gauge whether she needs to switch sides (unlatch + cry).
Basically, I should get a medal for every successful night-time nurse-down.
That's a lot of medals, people. Let's start 'em comin'.
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Lucy is a mushroom.
More on The Omnivore's Dilemma: in the last chapter, the author prepares a meal he gathers and hunts himself, the big two items being wild pig and mushrooms. He talks quite a bit about mushrooms and how mysterious they are. Here's a quote:
"When I went to visit...the renowned mycologist (mushroom expert)...I asked him what he considered the big open questions in his field. Without a moment's hesitation he named two: "Why here and not there? Why now and not then?""
I think these are my big open nap/sleep questions. Today was a day of frustrating naps. (Luckily, bedtime was a breeze.)
Since I'm getting over a cold, I actually wouldn't mind spending much of the day snoozing in bed with Lucy.
Of course, she has chosen this week to not like sleeping in bed. She likes sleeping in the sling only during the day, thank you very much.
Sling sleeping is not so restful for me.
Today I needed a nap. (Warning. Do not need anything with a baby around. It is a sure way of not getting it). Sleep last night wasn't so hot, and she wouldn't nap in bed in the morning. When the afternoon nap time rolled around, I was determined to have her nap in bed with me next to her. (Warning. Warning. Do not be determined with a small baby. Eject! Eject!)
She cried for a half hour. (No, I wasn't torturing her. I was very nice to her.) First, she needed to pee. Then--well, I don't know what her deal was. I sang (I don't have much of a voice left). I cradled her in my arm (she tends to like this). I rocked her (rocking while laying down isn't the easiest thing). I offered Brand Y boob. I offered brand X boob. I stood on my frickin' head.
For those of you in the peanut gallery, she was tired the whole time. That was not the problem. She was rubbing her eyes, yawning. She may have been overtired, but since naps are so difficult for us right now, there wasn't much I could do about that, now, could I?
I gave up. "Take her," I said to Dyami. He wore her around in the Baby Bjorn for about ten minutes.
I rubbed my eyes, sleepily and in frustration. "I'm going to try again."
Dyami looked at me in disbelief. "You sure, honey?"
I nodded. He handed her to me.
Laid down. Boob in mouth. Fell asleep in ten minutes. (To clarify: Lucy and me fell asleep).
Again, I ask you: "Why here and not there? Why now and not then?"
Apparently, my daughter is a fungus.
"When I went to visit...the renowned mycologist (mushroom expert)...I asked him what he considered the big open questions in his field. Without a moment's hesitation he named two: "Why here and not there? Why now and not then?""
I think these are my big open nap/sleep questions. Today was a day of frustrating naps. (Luckily, bedtime was a breeze.)
Since I'm getting over a cold, I actually wouldn't mind spending much of the day snoozing in bed with Lucy.
Of course, she has chosen this week to not like sleeping in bed. She likes sleeping in the sling only during the day, thank you very much.
Sling sleeping is not so restful for me.
Today I needed a nap. (Warning. Do not need anything with a baby around. It is a sure way of not getting it). Sleep last night wasn't so hot, and she wouldn't nap in bed in the morning. When the afternoon nap time rolled around, I was determined to have her nap in bed with me next to her. (Warning. Warning. Do not be determined with a small baby. Eject! Eject!)
She cried for a half hour. (No, I wasn't torturing her. I was very nice to her.) First, she needed to pee. Then--well, I don't know what her deal was. I sang (I don't have much of a voice left). I cradled her in my arm (she tends to like this). I rocked her (rocking while laying down isn't the easiest thing). I offered Brand Y boob. I offered brand X boob. I stood on my frickin' head.
For those of you in the peanut gallery, she was tired the whole time. That was not the problem. She was rubbing her eyes, yawning. She may have been overtired, but since naps are so difficult for us right now, there wasn't much I could do about that, now, could I?
I gave up. "Take her," I said to Dyami. He wore her around in the Baby Bjorn for about ten minutes.
I rubbed my eyes, sleepily and in frustration. "I'm going to try again."
Dyami looked at me in disbelief. "You sure, honey?"
I nodded. He handed her to me.
Laid down. Boob in mouth. Fell asleep in ten minutes. (To clarify: Lucy and me fell asleep).
Again, I ask you: "Why here and not there? Why now and not then?"
Apparently, my daughter is a fungus.
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