Party On Wayne!

I had this long post written and decided I’ve done enough long posts already. So let’s just say the RobMonster is staying at Grandma and Grandpa’s for a couple days. I miss him dearly but know he is in good hands. So, I am enjoying the break from reality while I can. Bring on the wine!

Sleep Deprivation

(written 7/19/06 and forgot to post!)

Sleep deprivation is a dangerous thing. That has to be the worst part about being a mom at any stage. I thought when my son was born that those first few months would be the hardest. When he needed fed every 3 hours on the dot. (his choice, not ours) But it does not end there. No where near there!

I have always been a night owl. Even when I was a child my folks would stick me in the kitchen on a chair so I wouldn’t bother my sister and wouldn’t interrupt them. I don’t know if it is physically possible for me to go to bed before midnight if it’s not drug induced.

The Monster has inherited some of this too. We put him to bed at 8 pm and he may be asleep by 10 if we are lucky. If he is asleep before then he wakes up during the night crying. It is as if he were blindsided by the Sandman and when he wakes he has no idea what has happened. So he cries out and if you don’t go in and comfort him he will scream for hours.

But, he has also inherited this early bird thing from who the hell knows where. He is up at 6 am. There is no logic to it. There is no reason. It is a sign from the sleep gods that I am raising their son, not mine. I feel that waking before noon is a sin. His father can sleep for umpteen hours without noticing that the world is moving around him. And it does. He has slept through fire engines and police cars outside his bedroom window. He has slept through hurricanes and nor’easters. I can not. I must be awake during all storms and crisis’. Which leads to the problem.

Last night the Monster woke up right before I was going to bed at 1 am. To ensure he was sleeping well I had to stay awake for another hour. (it’s a mother’s thing} We then had one of those mid summer out of nowhere storms. The type of storm where you can lose power for a long time or just long enough to mess with the alarm clock. So, I decided I needed to set the kitchen timer for 5 am. Husband wakes at 4:30 but can still get out the door at 5 am. I might be nice but I’m no martyr and was going to get that extra half hour if it killed me. I stayed on the couch. Well, as luck would have it somehow in those 2 hours I turned on my back and had a nightmare. I woke about 5 minutes before Husband’s alarm. The storm does not knock out the power. 2 hours of sleep. I finally get back to sleep (on the couch still) only do have the Monster wake me at 6.

I truly wish that this were an isolated case but it is not. It is the norm around here even though the circumstances change. My average sleep time is about 4 hours. Is it any wonder I become almost as cranky as my son by the end of the evening? Is it any wonder I like to have a glass of wine (or 3) every other evening or so? Is it any wonder I REALLY liked the two weeks I had all by myself after my surgery and the Monster stayed at Grandma’s?

Is it any wonder I am writing this half asleep?

I Don't Love Chicken

There are a million good things that happen when you become a mom. Depending on the day and the right circumstances there are an equal amount of not-so-good things. Today is one of those days.

The Monster is getting over a month long illness in which he completely lost his appetite. There were days (weeks) he survived on less food than it takes to keep a hamster alive! We are in the process of trying to get him back to eating decent foods and it is a nightmare. During that month we were so thrilled when he would actually eat part of a cookie that we gave him anything he asked for.

I should have known better but as a mom you feel so guilty when your only child comes to you with those dark circles under his eyes and asks for a little bowl of ice cream. And you are so joyful when he actually eats two whole bites. So now we have to wean him from the junk and get him to eat nutritious foods. Do you know what it is like to read the label on a box of pop tarts and determine that 2% Iron means it has some value? Never mind the fats and sugars…it has a percent somewhere near a basic mineral!

We know it is time because he eats lunch at his daycare. I found this out last week. He eats things there we can only dream of him eating here at home. Lunch meats and raw veggies even! It is astonishing what toddler peer pressure can do.

Last night we decided enough was enough and if he didn’t eat dinner he wasn’t going to get any snacks. No more crackers, no more bread, no more cookies, no more chocolate milk. This did not go over well. The Monster was begging and trying to manipulate us into giving him something, anything. We held strong in our united front although it was hard.

Tonight was more of the same except we thought we had the upper hand. We’d gone swimming in the backyard pool earlier and told him if he ate some dinner he would get to go back out before bedtime. He loves swimming. He loves anything to do with water. Well, everything except puddles. He is not fond of puddles. I will never say I understand the mind of a child.

So we went out to dinner where we knew there would be lots of choices of things he used to eat. He again refused. And he tried every trick in the book. “I love you mommy”, whine a little, “I don’t love chicken”, cry with tears added, “French fries are yucky”, “I don’t want to swim”, hugs and more whining, “Daddy doesn’t love me anymore”, “can I have a roll?”. This went on for the better part of an hour. We gave up and headed for home. I put on my swim suit and his little eyes filled with tears.

“I go outside with you Mommy?”
“No, you didn’t eat dinner.”
“You stay inside with me Mommy!”
“No, I’m going to go swimming.”
“WHY!”
“Because I ate my dinner and want to go outside.”
“I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE!”
“No, you didn’t eat your dinner”
“I DON'T LOVE CHICKEN!”
“Ok, then you stay inside.”

We brought home the chicken and cut it up into pieces that hamster would have thought were too small and told him all he had to do was eat one piece. One itty bitty piece. Not even enough to chew! Not gonna happen. It was like trying to talk to the dead. I wasn’t going to get the reply I wanted.

Once I got back in and the baths were out of the way and it was just about bedtime he started in. “Can I have a pop tart?” Can I have a cookie?” “Can I have a piece of cheese?” “I would love peanut butter.” “I could eat only one cracker?” I tell you, it’s enough to rip you apart! But I could not give in. I could not admit defeat. I was determined to stay strong, stay the course. I learned through that month long fast of his that he is not going to starve. He is not going to perish because he couldn’t have a cookie.

And this is one of those not-so-good things about being a mom. You have this nurturing instinct. This maternal bond that makes you want to protect your child at all costs. The problem with this is that most of those instincts are short term, in the moment kind of things. (don’t run with scissors, hold hands when crossing the street, don’t stick that up your nose} It takes vast patience and a willingness to disregard your first urges to see the bigger picture. To know that it is much better in the long run to see him eating a little of the good stuff as opposed to a lot of the bad stuff. My only hope is that I survive this minor stage in our relationship!