Mom of the Year

Yes, that is a plastic bag... on her head.  Inches away from her respiratory equipment.  The same kind of bag that often comes with a lil clause printed somewhere ''This is not a toy.  Suffocation Hazard.  Keep away from babies and small children.''

But she found it and voila! a hat!!  18 months old and already a Cutting Edge Fashion Designer, ahead of her time!!

Who wouldn't be proud?

Does being a libran make you bi-polar?

Cobwebs cobwebs cobwebs.  Chez moi in bloggy-land, chez moi in Elbonia-land.

I kinda realized that our happiest, funnest, sweetest, most stress-free days, the Angel and me, are the days when I don't do jack-shit other than just BE with her.  Building snowmen cuz the snow won't bloody quit.  Watching Dora sing Itsy Bitsy Spider 25 times in a row.  Exploring the back yard.  Playing football.  Playing Bouncy on the air-mattress... etc etc etc.  You catch my drift.

So now the floors are sticky and dusty with little dried spots of somethingorother, much like the table.  There is a pile of laundry up to my elbows, which quite possibly explains why I can't find  my favorite drawers.  Our diet is based mainly on sandwiches or throw-it-in-a-pan-and-stick-it-in-the-oven gastronomical delights.  Forget blogging!  And I have a child who is deliriously happy... AND... wait for it... dramatic drum-roll... Sleeping through the night!!!  (The black-out blinds?  Maintaining routines and schedules?  More fresh air?  Who knows!)

Yes folks.  My nights have returned to the land of mostly uninterrupted sweet sweet slumber.  A mere (???) 15 months post-partum.  I now know what 6, 7, 8, even 9 hours of solid sleep feels like!!  It was a hazy, misty memory.  And damn you Gods if you even THINK about taking that away just cuz I blog about it.  It is MINE.  You can't take it back. na na nana nah :-P

To celebrate I went out to shake my booty and got shit-faced instead with little or no actual booty shaking.  And then spent most of the following day semi-comatose, jacked up on Mc Donalds and Coke (the black, fizzy, overloadofsugarandcaffeine one.)  But it was SO WORTH IT!!!  I had SO MUCH FUN!!  Caps and exclamation points should be all over the place with the amount of fun I had.  I yapped my gums to anyone within earshot for as long as they would listen before they would find somebody else to rescue them and take their place.  It was probably really really obvious that I don't get out much. hahahahaha.  sigh.  Too bad.  It will take a while for the whole ''i don't see people'' vibe to work it's way out of my system.

If only I had a trusted baby-sitter... then Hubby and I would be able to get shit-faced TOGETHER, instead of taking turns.  In time.  In time.

I just realized this post is polar-opposite to my last one which was all sob sob poor me.  Who remembers that I'm a libra?!?!  

Sometimes...

... I wonder how it is that I can forget how much I love and adore my beautiful baby, my Angel, and shout at her.

... I feel like the worst mother in the world.

... I worry that she will hate me.

... it makes me cry.

... I don't know what takes over me, and I get mean.

... I worry that I might, one day, hit her.

... I am afraid.

... I understand how my mother felt.

... I fear that my baby will feel the same way I did.

... I feel guilty too often

Live and Learn # 37654

ˇ

She fell asleep today with relative ease.  No long crying and raging.  No tantrums.  Just a few lil grumbles at nap time, but nothing to write home about.

So what was it?  The moon?  Weird unknown illness?  Growth spurt?

It would have been so much easier on both of us if I had just let her be, instead of trying to control.  I always remember too late that when she behaves like that, there is a reason, and that I need to just accept and go with the flow.

''Struggle or stress is a sign that the ego has returned, as are negative reactions when we encounter obstacles.''  - Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth.

One day I will remember in time.

But why oh why could I not have read that ONE line a few days ago??  Why did I have to read it today, AFTER she had already fallen asleep peacefully.  The book has been sitting on the couch untouched for days.

Maybe it was a test.  Well guess who didn't ace that one!  As usual.  My teachers will not be shocked.

Live and Learn.

I know it's OK to cry... but REALLY.

ˇ

Every nap time, every night, during the night, mini melt-downs during the day, every time I try to cut a vegetable or wash a plate.  Jeez Louise.

What am I doing wrong?????  Or worse, is she sick?  I'm not seeing any real symptoms of anything.  Does constantly pulling your toes count as a symptom?

Nap time and bed time, which used to be so sweet, have turned into a struggle that leaves both of us in tears.  I know she is tired.  The yawns, eye-rubbing and I'm-not-hungry-but-i want-boobs are not classic  ''Let's PLAY!'' signals.

I decided to have the bedroom fitted with black-out blinds.  And I think I'm going to stop the nap-time and bed-time stories which just seem to excite rather than calm.  We read a million times a day anyway.  Maybe bath-time should be in the morning too.  Today I played this just before nap time and it seemed to help, a bit.  Crying was a few short squawks rather than 45 minutes of banshee.  I never thought I would say this, but 'Thanks, Brahm and Kenny G'.  It made me cry too.  What can I say, I'm a bit topped up on stress, and crying comes easy.

So is music what I need to soothe this restless beast angel?  Lawd how I wish she could talk and tell me exactly where my idiocy lies.  Although, maybe not.  I probably have many many years of that ahead of me.

Reading through some other parenting blogs today I realized that at no point in time over the next rest of my life will I be worry free.  There will always be SOMETHING to throw me off balance.  Not like I was particularly balanced to begin with.  As a Libran, balance is something I seem to be eternally seeking.  Note that I said seeking, and not finding.  I thought scales represented balance.  Although, now that I think of it, they are usually drawn kinda off-kilter, right?  Sigh.  Great.  Firetrucking great.

Ok, nuff ranting 'bout nothing important.

Center, breathe deeply, relax.  Ommmm.

Let it never be said that I am totally thick-headed.

Life with my beautiful Angel has been a bit tricky, to put it mildly:

Crying that I don't understand but know is all my fault; 

Nap and sleep times that have gone to Mars and back with nary a hint at routine;

Night-time wakings that I'm sure are not due to hunger seeing as most websites seem to agree that a 15 month old should not need to nurse overnight anymore;

Days like roller coasters that swing from heart-melting love and fun to heart-breaking screeching and despair.

Then I find this website that says most toddlers do not actually outgrow their need for 2 naps until 15 - 18 months.  And that taking them down to one nap too soon will result in a cute but energy-draining mini-grouch.  

DING goes the light bulb in my head.  So that's why she fell asleep in the grocery shopping cart yesterday at 11; and today in the stroller too.  I thought she was over her 2 naps MONTHS ago, and had her fighting it out (literally) until after lunch.  (Can you tell here that I don't get out much, seeing as it took sooo long for me to realise this??)

Over-tiredness comes in many shapes and forms, from almost permanent attachment to my boob to long sessions of tears, tears, tears.

And I have been living a confused life with a cranky child unnecessarily for several months now.  Poor little thing.  Lawd how she must have wanted to throttle me.

BUT!  Thanks to the Internets, I have found salvation.  Fingers crossed that tomorrow is a new and better day.

It made me realize though, that my initial refusal to ''schedule'' her as a little baby did more harm than good.  I was so determined to 'follow her cues', that I became completely reactionary.  That might work okay-ish for a newborn who simply sleeps when she is sleepy, but isn't such a good idea for a busy little thing who no doubt prefers lego to letsgoliedown.

Live and learn.

That's what I should really call this blog.  Live and learn.

And I found a cool website with great, easy toddler recipes.  Enjoy!

Sidenote about the sleep website: They have lots of advice for babies of all ages, so go check it out if you have any little ones.  Unless you know all that already, in which case... Why didn't you tell me??  I might not have listened anyway.  I'm an idiot like that sometimes.  I guess I found when I needed to find it.  Ironically I did ask for help today.  I sat, close to tears myself, with her crying in my lap, looked up at the ceiling and pleaded  ''Help me please.  Help me to do this for her.  Help me to do it right.  Help me.  I just want her to be happy.''  And TA DAH!  Within 2 minutes of being online I found that website.  Thank You Ceiling.  I really really appreciate it.  So you really should check it out.  It was divine intervention.

Somewhere over the rainbow.

ˇ

The Angel has an ear infection :(

I noticed some time back that she was tugging at her ears, and I thought that they smelt funny.  But she didn't seem to be in pain, so I didn't rush her of to the doctor, my idiot mind thinking maybe she just had an itch.  I have itchy ears all the time, and never thought anything of it.

You see what happens when you listen to your mind all the time???  SHADDAP ALREADY!

Being present and aware is much harder than I thought.

And now my mom thinks that I am negligent.  Because she rushed us to the doctor at the first sign of a cough and fever... because it might be meningitis.

So now we're doing the antibiotics thing.  Funny enough they are the same antibiotics that I was given regularly as a child (Amoxil).  I thought they would be useless by now, after all the misuse and uncompleted courses.  Lord knows how many super-bugs were grown back then.

On another note, the night and nap time venting continues, with added intensity for the infection.  Poor little thing.  I wish I could make it all disappear.  I wish I could make her life nothing but warm, sunny days with ice cream, friends, rainbows and bunnies.  But I can't.  Indeed, I shouldn't even wish that for her.  For there would be no rainbows if it never rained.  

She trusts me more and more now with her sadness and anger.  When I first started accepting her cries, she would hardly make eye contact during her venting moments, and would pull away.  Now, her big, sad eyes lock with mine as she pours her little heart out.  Who knew that being a baby could be so hard.

There are days when I wonder if I am doing the right thing.  It can be hard to listen to your baby cry like that.  And I sometimes feel so helpless.  I'm her mama.  I should be able to make it better.

Am I saving her money on therapy later, or am I adding to her bill?

The thing is, apart from the times when she vents, she is a happy baby... growing in confidence, trusting her daddy more, needing me a bit less, and sleeping sooooooo much better.

Time will tell.

I took my eyes off her for 3 seconds

She was standing at the bedroom door, eating a cracker.  I turned around to put on a shirt.  We were getting ready to go to the company's kids' Christmas party.  I didn't even button up.  All I did was pull the shirt over my arms.  Three seconds.

Some internal alarm went off.  I spun around to see her slip down the first stair.  Then the second.  A scream stuck in my throat as I lunged toward my precious baby, my life, now sliding down down down just beyond my desperate grasp.  The third.  The fourth.  And on.  And on.  And on.   

Oh God.  Oh God.  Oh God.

She tried to stop herself.  Tried to turn.  It put her into a spin.  There were four more stairs to go. 

The scream made its way out as I kept trying to grab her but instead saw her rolling, head spinning, her little arms flailing as she spun and bounced out of control down to the floor.

My heart stopped beating.  The world disappeared.

Her screams pierced my head.  Oh Thank God.  She is crying.  Thank You God.  Thank You God.  Thank You God.

I scooped her up and ran.  I found the couch and opened my eyes to look down at my screaming baby.  My life.

No blood.  Nothing seemed broken.

She grabbed at my breast desperate for comfort.  I clung to her desperate for ... reassurance?  forgiveness?

She's OK.  Nothing more than a slightly swollen lip.  I don't know if I will ever forget what I saw.  The memory is so sharp that it still causes my heart to tighten.  I don't know if I will ever forgive myself.

Funnily enough though, she still loves to climb the stairs.