Sleep stress

I think I may have broken my kid. At least as far as sleep is concerned.

He always was a clockwork kid. First week of his life, he would sleep for three hours and eat, with wakeful periods at predictable times, around the clock. And he soon settled into a predictable schedule. At eight weeks he was sleeping through the night, and I was thrilled! I thought it must be because I was such a good parent.

Ha.

Anyway, by twelve weeks he wasn't sleeping through the night anymore. There was the fact that we flew him halfway across the country at that age and gave him jetlag. But the main thing was that he was starting to refuse to eat, which was a really big problem. So when he woke up at night and was willing to eat, my original tactic of trying to get him back to sleep without feeding him (so that he would focus his meals during the day) went out the window. My kid was dropping on the growth chart, and I was not going to do a single thing to get rid of two solid nighttime nursing sessions.

I would show up at work exhausted, and my well-meaning coworkers kept giving me advice (most of which involved leaving him to scream alone for hours in his crib, nothankyou) on how to get him to sleep. I kept repeating over and over, "My kid is losing weight. My sleep is not my priority. Him eating is." But somehow the impression remained that my child was a bad baby for not sleeping through the night, and I was a bad mom (either a martyr or lazy) because I wouldn't fix it. Sigh.

Eventually, though, he started eating regularly again, piling on the pounds, and doing great. Of course by then we had passed the ideal window for learning to sleep through the night. And then he had cold after cold (that's what happens when you take a baby to school with you every day all winter) and cut tooth after tooth, and, well, just forget about sleep. Instead of waking up for a quick snack and dropping off, he was requiring an hour of pacing and bouncing every time, and then don't even think about trying to lay him down in his crib after that. So we started cosleeping.

That actually worked pretty well. He slept better, and so did I. Not great, of course, but better than when I was pacing the floor bouncing. And when we moved the crib up against the bed and took off the side to form a sidecar, we were golden. If he fussed, I would roll him towards me, nurse him, and roll him back into his crib sound asleep so that I could have my space again.

The really ideal part of this was that I could get him to sleep much more easily. We had started out rocking him to sleep in the rocking chair, since I had heard that you don't want to nurse your baby to sleep all the time -- that will give him the habit of having to nurse to sleep and you'll never break it! I don't know why it never occurred to me that rocking to sleep every time would have the same effect. And of course it was easy to rock him to sleep when he was 19 inches long and fit upright against my shoulder. Once his legs got long, we were in trouble. He would spend the whole time trying to stand up on my lap. So we went back to nursing to sleep while rocking in the rocking chair, and it worked except for when I tried to lay him down.

But with the sidecar, it was perfect. I would nurse him until his eyes fell shut and he was sorta kinda sleeping. Then I would stand up and move to the bed/crib, where I would nurse him the rest of the way to sleep. Once he was really settled in his bed, I would unlatch him and he'd get comfy on his own. Eventually he started rolling away from me himself when he was ready to sleep! This is the holy grail of baby sleep ... getting your baby to go to sleep in his crib on his own. And the whole process took 10-20 minutes. Meanwhile, his ability to resettle himself in his crib on his own led to the other holy grail ... he often slept through the night.

As he was about a year old, though, we had some issues. He was taking two naps a day, which he didn't really need, but which he naturally took due to my work schedule. That made it hard to go to sleep. So we'd do the whole rocking, nursing, lying down routine, and it wouldn't work. And we couldn't start over, because he was starting to refuse to nurse unless it had been awhile since the last time ... so we'd have to wait a whole hour and try again.

So we discovered a new trick: the stroller walk. Just strap him in the stroller, walk around the neighborhood, and he fell asleep much more easily! It rarely took more than 20 minutes, and it always worked. He still slept through the night. We moved to our house and switched him into a floor bed in his own room -- no problem at all. We'd walk for 20 minutes, then carefully take him out of the stroller and into the house. I'd carefully lay him down in his bed, and he would stay asleep.

But, as always, there were problems. He soon became addicted to this method. Now nothing worked but stroller walking. Sometimes not even that -- we have walked for over an hour with no effect. And cold weather was approaching. Sometimes it would rain, and bedtime turned into a nightmare of indoor stroller walking (no dice) and bouncing. John would walk him around his bedroom in the dark, jiggling and humming, and eventually, when he got tired enough, he would drop off. Unfortunately I have never mastered this technique. My shoulders aren't comfy enough, for one thing, and for another, the kid weighs a ton. Lately my back has been so bad I can't really carry him for long at all. So it's a Daddy-only trick. I wouldn't mind it being a Daddy-only trick if John were always available in the evenings, but he isn't. I have to be able to put him to sleep myself.

So we switched back to nursing to sleep, even though by this point I was pregnant and really wanted to wean. We just didn't have any option. He won't even sit in the rocking chair with me unless he's nursing. He would rather get down and play. Luckily, this tactic ended up working really well. After the first few nights, I wondered to myself, "Why did we ever get away from this? This is so much easier!" Not to mention that it is easier to transition from nursing in a rocking chair to not nursing in a rocking chair than from roaming around the neighborhood in a stroller to anything else. I can nurse the first half of the time, and then when he's sleepy, just rock him. But I couldn't do anything like that with the stroller.

But we have two problems. The first is the most immediate issue: bedtime. When to put him to bed? We have tried a number of different times, and it seems every night is a little different. (Small wonder, when his naps have been all over the map lately. I never let him sleep past 3 pm, though, regardless of when he went down.) I hear a good bedtime for a toddler is 7 p.m. His usual bedtime is 10. John gets home at a quarter to seven (making 7 p.m. an impossible goal) and we are hard at work on bedtime by eight. We get in pj's, read books, try a little rocking and nursing, fail, try more books, try more nursing ... and some nights, nothing works. He's all wound up and hyper, racing around the house like a maniac if you let his feet touch the floor. Meanwhile our whole evening is shot ... we spend pretty much the whole dang thing on bedtime.

I suspect the problem is that we've missed the ideal window for bedtime. But how to know when the ideal window is? When he's already tired and cranky, he will often melt down in the middle of dinner, so we whisk him out of the high chair and into pajamas. Sometimes (like last night) it works. Usually not. And when he's had a good nap and is feeling good about life, he never shows any sign of tiredness at all. He just keeps on living it up, ignoring the fact that we've put the dog to bed, turned down all the lights, and put away all the toys. Around ten we get really serious about it and refuse to let him do anything but lie in bed or be rocked. But lying in bed for Marko usually means standing on his head and feet and toppling over while demanding nursery rhymes, so we try to stick with just rocking. And he puts up such a fuss. If he's got Mama, he screams for Daddy. If he's got Daddy, he screams for Mama. And more than anything, he screams to be DOWN so he can PLAY.

Eventually the end of that is him crying himself to sleep in Daddy's arms. He doesn't cry long, but I still feel there's got to be a better way ... and one that ends with an earlier bedtime.

I've tried tinkering with the rest of his schedule, but he just isn't as predictable with that as you would think. Nap usually starts between 11 and noon, but it could last an hour or three hours. I hate to wake him, because he ends up even more overtired and hyper, but I sometimes do for fear of having him sleep all day and play all night. And I tried messing with his wakeup time, which was a mistake. He used to go to bed at ten and wake up at eight. So I started waking him an hour earlier, so now he goes to bed at ten and wakes up at seven ... sometimes earlier. Making him more overtired, more prone to taking a long nap, and more hyper at bedtime.

Our second problem is just that we want to wean him. John can get him to sleep without nursing; I can't. And, you know, I'm the one on the scene. I always put him down for nap, and usually for bed. John is in class two nights a week, so I need to be able to do bedtime on my own. I had this whole plan for reducing bedtime nursing and getting him to fall asleep without it, but it hinged on the notion of having a sleepy child at bedtime who wanted to fall asleep one way or the other. Not on having a wide-awake child who is barely falling asleep with nursing, much less without it.

Oh, and the third problem is that he hasn't slept through the night more than once in a row in around a month. There are various reasons for that, but it's definitely contributing to the irregular naps and the overtiredness. On the bright side, I can easily get him back to sleep with no nursing at night, because he's too tired to try to get out of the rocking chair.

This is not to say we've had no success at all. There was a week there where he went to sleep at nine every night, and fairly easily too. Then he took a late nap one day and the whole thing was ruined. And last night, we got him to sleep around eight. That was more John's doing than mine, but it was a success! There clearly is a window for sleep earlier in the evening ...we just keep missing it. I have hopes that with John's new job (starting Monday!), since he'll be home earlier, we will be able to have an earlier dinner and maybe catch that window. If that doesn't work, I guess we will all have to place our hopes in daylight savings time. At least for awhile, we might be able to trick him into going to bed at nine.

But all the same, tips would be appreciated! (Keep in mind: if we put him in his bed and walk away, he just follows us. It does not work. Everyone suggests this. Even if he were in a crib, he'd probably just jump on his bed and sing songs.) Or if this is a common 18-month-old phase that instantly disappears at 19 months, I would very much like to hear that.

Housewifery

I don't like being a housewife.

There, I said it.

Don't get me wrong. I love being a stay-at-home mom. I love being with my son all day, the close relationship this helps us have, and the way I'm the expert on his needs. All that is what I stay home for.

I didn't stay home to do housework. Sure, I do it. I don't do a great job. I keep us all fed, clothed, and more or less clean. But I don't enjoy it.

Oh, the chores themselves aren't so bad. They're no harder than many other jobs I have had. It's the endlessness of it. The way I can spend an hour washing a mountain of dishes, and by the time I'm done, we're hungry again and I have to make more dishes. The way I can never really relax because there's always something I should be doing.

And it's so easy to get resentful. It's tough, especially if you're the more outgoing spouse, to wait all day for your husband to come home so you can talk to him, only to find he's been dealing with people all day and just wants to be quiet. Or to have him come home and put his feet up after a hard day's work just at the moment that your job is getting its most stressful, what with dinner to make and bedtime to handle. Or to see everyone you know relax on a weekend, while for you it's just one more day where people need to be fed and clothed.

There are different ways to look at it. You can see it as a vocation. But then every time you need to ask for help with the dishes, you feel like a failure at your vocation.

You can see it as a job. But it's a kind of awful job with no pay except the privilege to continue doing it, plus the occasional word of gratitude. And then, every time you aren't thanked on schedule, you feel like your pay is getting docked.

You can see it as just trying to keep a tidy house because you like to live in one, and doing the lion's share because you happen to be home more. That's my main approach. But then you get angry when no one else does what you consider to be their share. And you don't feel like you should ever have to ask. No one asks you to make dinner, please - you just do it. So how come other people can walk through the kitchen, comment on the dirty dishes, and then just leave them there? You feel everyone has the responsiblity to pitch in and do an amount of housework proportionate to the amount of time they spend in the house. But, of course, they haven't got the memo and don't know what you might consider proportionate. They might not even know what needs doing, not being in the thick of it like you are.

It's a pretty powerless position. There isn't always any solution to being overwhelmed, tired, lonely, and behind on the dishes. But then, the husband can be in a bind, too, in many ways. If he has higher standards than his wife's (as mine does), and he thinks things ought to be cleaner, what can he do? He could do it himself, but he's so busy outside the home he hasn' t got the time or energy to do it all. He could nag and complain, but if she thinks she's doing her best, she's not likely to make a permanent improvement.

Either spouse is in danger of feeling jealous. The husband can complain that he never gets to spend as much time with his kids as his wife does, that he has to commute, and that he can't arrange his house to suit himself because he's never in it. The wife can reposte with her loneliness, lack of measurable accomplishments or appreciation, and inability to get out of the house or wear nice clothes. There are times when the other's job seems like a walk in the park. Meanwhile, both have to make constant financial sacrifices for life on a single income to work - and that can be a strain too.

A strong relationship can weather these struggles, but they definitely can be points of contention. Men and women have been arguing about them at least since the Industrial Revolution, and maybe since the dawn of time.

I do the housework because I want it to be done, because I want my husband to have a clean house, and because I'm the one on the spot to do it. But nothing has ever made it easy for me.

Language explosion

Marko's language development has been amazing lately. It's been quite a surprise to me that language doesn't develop linearly -- instead it goes in sudden leaps and bounds. Which is why you always hear about kids who didn't speak a word till two and then started talking in sentences. Once those brain connections are made and they want to say something, they pick up words at a lightning pace.

It would be impossible to count the number of words Marko knows now. I joke that he knows them all. At any rate, he knows all the names of things he sees regularly and things he likes to do. He doesn't get adverbs at all, though. When I say to pet the kitty nicely, he thinks "nice" is a verb that means "to half pet, half hit." Ah well.

Lately he's begun to talk in sentences, though not usually original ones. He just mimics whole sentences that we use, like "Mama do it," "Grab the dog," "Mama kiss Daddy." His original sentences are more sparse: "Walk in street," "Eat crackers," "Marko's mousie." But he's certainly on his way to communicating everything he wants to.

That doesn't mean he always does use his words to communicate, though. Sometimes he just says "Mama do it, Mama do it," and when I say, "Mama do what?" he melts onto the floor in a puddle of frustration. When he's really upset, he can't speak at all. He clearly wants something and is frustrated that we don't understand him, but he's screaming too hard to pronounce anything. He certainly throws more tantrums than he did a month or two ago. Now that he's 18 months, he's very aware that what he wants doesn't always jive with what we want, and he's harder to distract. On the bright side, though, he does understand "no." Sometimes he still does the thing, but sometimes he just starts to throw a fit. In other words, he's thinking, "I want to touch that outlet, but Mama said no, so I CAN'T. I'm so upset!" But he is obeying, which is what matters (especially where outlets are concerned!).

I have always liked to sing to him. I have fun with changing the words of songs to fit our circumstances: "You've got to change your evil ways" becomes "We've got to change your stinky dipe," and "It's business time" becomes "It's sleepy time." He likes his songs. He's stopped liking many "grown-up" songs though: he prefers songs he understands the words of, like "Wheels on the Bus" and "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep." Our compromise is Jonathan Coulton. We both like him. His favorite is "Code Monkey," and he often surprises me by knowing the lyrics. The other day he was talking to himself and I couldn't figure out WHAT he was saying, until finally I realized he was saying, "Code monkey is a simple man, with big warm fuzzy secret heart." He calls the song "Code monkey like you." It's very cute.

He's not tone-deaf, either. On Wednesday, he was being a real crab, so I let him sit on my lap and watch the Muppets on YouTube. We found one of Kermit singing "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," but when I realized it was just a fan-made dub instead of the real Kermit, I moved on. I guess we watched about 30 seconds of it. On Friday, he was lying on my bed saying "Nap" so I sang, "Nap-nap-nappin' on Mama's bed." He immediately leaped up and headed for the living room, saying, "Watch a movie?" I was pretty impressed.

I am so proud of his recent achievements. I have a smart kid. I will use that to comfort me over the fact that he's still not sleeping worth a darn. Ah well, we can't have everything, can we?

A person's a person

I am, as most of you know, pro-life. That means I am opposed to abortion in any and all circumstances. While I absolutely do care about moms in tough circumstances, I also believe that a fetus is, from the very first moment of conception (when it has its own individual, human DNA blueprint) a human person. And I believe that human persons are created in the image and likeness of God, and therefore have intrinsic dignity and rights.

Which is why it weirds me out when people who consider themselves pro-life as well then turn around and fail to respect human life in other instances.

If you believe in the dignity of a human person when it is composed of one cell, unable to think, move, talk, suffer, or defend itself, it seems to me that it shouldn't be hard to believe in the dignity of all human persons. And most people who describe themselves as pro-life also believe in the dignity of other people unable to move (like coma patients) or unable to talk (like the severely disabled) or unable to defend themselves (like the very poor). And yet they might advocate the death penalty or war with a zest that seems entirely inappropriate.

A person's a person no matter how small, sure. But I also believe this: A person's a person no matter how black. A person's a person no matter how Muslim. A person's a person no matter how guilty of murder.

Now, the Catholic Church does allow for one very particular instance in which a human person may be directly killed. That is when that human person is an aggressor threatening your own life or that of someone for whom you are responsible. By their aggression, they have forfeited, to some extent, their right to life.

The simple example is that of a gunman charging at you with clear intent to shoot. To make it easier, let's say you have a bunch of kids with you, and you're not sure who he's going to shoot first. You have a loaded gun. You can go ahead and shoot, and if you can't avoid killing him when you shoot, that's okay. In fact, you probably have the responsibility to shoot.

Another is the example of war. The Canadians finally realize we exist and send a brigade of ferocious Mounties, armed to the teeth, to murder our men and enslave our women and children. You enlist in the New Hampshire militia and prepare to defend your family. If you happen to shoot one of the attackers, fine for you. You are simply doing your duty. You respect the life of the other guy, but you recognize that he will kill you and your family if you don't kill him first -- and so you do.

The death penalty is also allowed by the Church. Traditionally, the solution to a dangerous criminal who threatened the peaceful citizens was to execute him. However, theologians and popes (particularly John Paul II) have been lately emphasizing how this ought to be avoided when possible.

Why? Because life has value. Because the "other guy," the guy you want to kill, has hopes, dreams, a family who will mourn him, and a desire to live his life -- just like you do. Because God is the giver and taker of life, and it isn't our place to say when people live or die. When we have to -- when there is absolutely no other option -- we sometimes have to take the life of an aggressor. But we'd rather not. We'd rather, like God does, see him be converted and live.

That's why the Church has such a strict definition of a just war, and one of the requirements is that all other methods have been exhausted. We shouldn't be looking for an excuse to go to war. We should be looking for any way to avoid it. Not because we are afraid of death -- but because we don't have the right to kill other people if it is possible not to. I have heard war defended on the grounds that "well, we have to, if we want to be a world power," or, "it would cause us severe economic hardship if we didn't," or, "we'd better strike first, or they will attack us later." Sorry, these aren't reasons to go over and kill someone who hasn't attacked you first!

I am not getting into specific wars here because it would take a much longer post ... probably a series of posts. I feel differently about different wars, but overall I feel uneasy about our country's eagerness to involve ourselves in armed conflicts. It's like we've forgotten that people die in them! Can there be a war that is necessary, in which risking our own lives and those of our enemies is just? Most certainly, and I believe there have been plenty of these over history. But I think there have been a heck of a lot more unnecessary wars.

With the death penalty, I feel the same. Might there be (or have been in the past) cases where a criminal had to die to protect everyone else? Definitely. But when we have the option of giving someone life without parole, and everyone can be kept just as safe that way, why don't we use it? Certainly this is expensive. But so are babies. We choose the more difficult way sometimes because we care about human life.

I got into a debate about the death penalty awhile back. Arguments in favor of it included "Knowing you're going to die is a great encouragement to repent" and "If a person kills someone, it is just for them to be killed." The first one is just beyond our pay grade. We have no idea what will help someone repent. I'm not going to get into the business of trying to save people's souls by killing them -- God never gave us permission for that. And as for the second, I thought we got rid of "an eye for an eye" when Jesus came along. "Justice is mine, sayeth the Lord," and all that. It isn't our place to decide what is "just" for another person to receive. If a man steals a thousand dollars, it is reasonable to require him to pay a thousand dollars to the person he robbed. But if a man kills a person's child, can killing him in return ever give the child back? If a man kills ten people, is he to be killed ten times? There is no restoration of justice when a person has been killed. That's a life that is no more -- it can't be given back or paid for with more death.

As you can see, my pro-life views are a little more complicated than, "You can't kill someone ever." If someone has made the choice to attack you, they don't have an equal right to life as someone who's just minding their own business. But that doesn't mean their life doesn't count, that we won't have to account for it to God. Their life has a value that can't be measured.

So, just understand that when I hear someone say, "I'm pro-life -- protect the unborn!" but then in the next sentence say, "Let's nuke Iran!" or "Hey, that guy killed someone -- he deserves to die!" ... I feel a disconnect. As if they were saying, "Only unborn life matters and has value." And the fact is, all life has value. And none of it belongs to us to do with as we like.

Exploring on the city bus

I have been stranded at home on weekdays pretty much all summer long. One day, I was at the park two blocks from my house when I saw a bus go by. What? We have a bus?!

A bit of research informed me that this bus goes all over town, stops a block from me every hour, and costs fifty cents a ride. Well, sign me up!

I got the chance to try it on the second straight day of rain last week. Marko was as stir-crazy as could be, and I wasn't much better, so I resolved that we would leave as soon as possible. Our destination was the library. Hours of fun to be had there, though I planned to only stay an hour so we could have a snack before naptime. Once I mentioned the words "bus" and "library" to Marko, we were committed. We dashed around the house like mad, getting ready so we could catch the 8:37 bus.

The bus came right on time, and the driver was unbelievably friendly. He offered to swing right by the door of the library to drop me off so I wouldn't get rained on, and even asked when I'd be done so he could come by the door then, too! It was only a moment after he pulled away that I saw the sign on the library: Open 10-8. It was 8:45. And it was raining. Dang it.

So we played around the library in the drizzle for awhile. It wasn't raining hard, and it wasn't cold. Marko splashed in all the puddles with his bare feet. I had wanted to bring his shoes, but couldn't find them because the dog had made off with one, like ... two weeks ago. We're still not doing shoes that often. But it wasn't cold, like I said, and Marko seemed content and not cold, so I didn't worry.

Until a librarian came out and told me off. She said she "had concerns" about my son's bare feet and was worried he would get cold. "Thanks," I said, "he's really fine." (I deal with this EVERY TIME we go out in public. If he hasn't got shoes, I hear about it!) "No, I'm really concerned," she said. "He's going to be cold, playing out there in the rain with no shoes!"

I said I wasn't sure what I could do to alleviate her concerns, as I didn't have any shoes with me. I hadn't planned to be out there in the rain, but I'd taken the bus and not known when the library opened. Then I had an idea. "I mean, you could let us inside, and then he wouldn't be cold!" (The library has a large open area outside of the part where the books are ... so we wouldn't be hurting anything.)

Of course she turned this idea down, gave me a long, disapproving stare, and went inside. I was ticked. So I did what I always do: came up with a million and one comebacks cleverer than the one I had used -- all of which would be inadvisable to use in real life. Like this one: "Who do you think cares about keeping him warm more, his mother or a random stranger?" Or this one, "My husband works for you for FREE every weekend, and this is what I get from you." Or this one, "I'm assuming you're mentioning it because you happen to have rubber boots in size 18 months in your pocket?"

Thank goodness the lady was gone, though, so I did not embarrass myself with any of these rude remarks. Instead we went to the playground next door and played for awhile. Marko rode on the swing (his first ever! he hated it) and climbed the jungle gym. I stood there and got wet. The rainwater quickly soaked into my shoes, so that I ended up with cold, wet feet until lunchtime ... whereas the rain dried right off of Marko's feet every time I picked him up and felt them! (Every time I get criticism about his lack of shoes, I feel his feet obsessively to make sure they're not cold. They never are. This kid is warm-blooded like his dad.)

When it was almost ten, I went and stood outside the library. Apparently that is the happening place to be! There were half a dozen people waiting. I ended up telling a college-aged kid about the shoe thing, and pretty soon everyone was laughing about it. The kid kept joking, "That's like seeing a homeless guy and saying, 'I'm worried that you're so hungry' and then walking away! That's like seeing someone freezing to death and saying, 'Gee, you look cold! You should have a nice warm coat like the two I'm wearing!'" An older lady told me that she's only just started wearing shoes again after the summer ... flipflops are the most she wears all summer long! Everyone was very nice. I couldn't help but wonder if social class had something to do with it -- most people in our town are fairly poor and blue-collar, whereas the librarian looked and sounded much more "posh." John says this is true -- shoes can be a sign of social class, so we are looked down on as "poor" or "backwoods" for keeping our son barefoot.

Sigh. I thought one wore or didn't wear shoes based on whether one's feet were cold and whether one liked wearing shoes. Go figure.

Anyway, we had a great time at the library, which has a great toddler area and a wide selection of books on natural childbirth. What more could anyone want? But within half an hour, we had to leave to make sure we wouldn't miss the bus.

The bus ride home was long. See, the route is in a big circle, so it takes five minutes to get to the library and fifty-five minutes to get home. If it hadn't been raining, and wasn't all uphill, I might have walked -- it would have been quicker. But we had a nice tour of the town. I had no idea there was so much right here in town!

Marko loved the whole experience. "Bus! Man! Driver! Bus! Woman! Bus! Seatbelt! Bus!" And the few other passengers were charmed with him. Again, they were fairly poor, and we traded stories of traveling around by bus and recommendations for dollar stores. I may be college-educated, but both my budget and my preferences seem to make me get along much better with the less-well-off, blue-collar inhabitants of this small town than I ever did with the much posher people closer in toward DC. Does that make me reverse-classist or something? Or maybe it's just that I like the real South, and the DC area doesn't really count.

Anyway, except for a little bus-sickness on my part on the way home, we had a great time. Marko fell asleep on my shoulder a little short of home, and the bus driver went off his route a bit so I wouldn't have to walk far carrying him. (He was so nice.) Definitely a great adventure for a rainy day!

Though, seriously. I would like to go out in public just once and not hear a comment about Marko's lack of shoes. Just once.

The ballad of the bedtime woes

Back when I was a teenager and my parents were early on in their "second batch" of children, my mom and I used to eat breakfast together. And invariably, my mom would tell me every single detail about how the baby had slept last night. I asked her what was up with this phenomenon -- why do moms have to rehash how the previous night went? It's over now, right? We laughed over it and called it "The Ballad of the Bedtime Woes." I tried to listen and be sympathetic, but the whole time I would think, "There's nothing new in this story. It's just like last night! Why is it so important to her to tell the story?"

Now, I know. It's just a purgative re-hashing. It's simply to make you feel better about having lost a whole night's sleep. Ideally, one's listener should hang on your every word, as if the story were actually interesting, and occasionally interject, "Sounds like you tried everything -- it's totally not your fault it went so badly!" and, "Well, you must be exhausted! How about I take over for you for a few hours while you catch a nap!"

I probably didn't say any of those helpful things when I was a teenager. But my mom says them to me when I rant to her (though, sadly, she is not near enough to trade kids with, or we TOTALLY would) because she is nice like that.

So here is last night's Ballad. If your kids are this age, you might enjoy hearing that someone else is up in the middle of the night, too. If not, you get to chuckle to yourself at my misfortune and thank your lucky stars that you got a full eight hours (or whatever you got).

I must back up a bit and tell you about a problem we've been having lately. It used to be that when Marko would wake up at night, he'd cry a little. I'd go into the bedroom, and often all I had to do was lie down next to him for fifteen minutes or so. Sometimes it took some rocking or back pats. We don't nurse at night anymore, unless I'm DESPERATE, which hasn't happened in awhile.

Lately, though, the second his eyes open, he leaps out of bed and pitter-pats to my room. He used to get lost once in awhile and end up in the living room, and then cry because we weren't in it. Now he knows to run to the door and bang on it, and I come out and put him back to bed. Problem is, by that point he's so awake we practically have to do the whole bedtime routine again to get him to sleep ... and even then, it's iffy.

Last night, it was about 3:30 a.m. when John nudged me. "I just heard his door open." When I saw the clock, I felt a little grateful, because that meant I'd slept four hours already. More than I got in one chunk the previous night! So I trudged to the door and opened it, and sure enough, there he was, grabbing at the doorknob. I swung him up into my arms, and he seemed sleepy enough. Surely it wouldn't take long to get him back to bed.

So I rocked him in the rocking chair for awhile while he tugged on my hair. Have I mentioned before how much he does this, and how much I HATE it? He used to do it while nursing ... but if he isn't nursing, and is sleepy, he does it too. If I'm lucky, he just twists it and fidgets with it. If I'm unlucky, he selects one hair at a time and pulls it out with long, slow yanks. Any attempt of mine to hinder him is met with struggling and more awakeness. But it also seems to keep him awake, as it was doing this time. His eyes were shut, his legs were limp, but that one hand just kept fiddling and fiddling, moving from this chunk of hair to that chunk of hair, and generally driving me nuts.

After about twenty minutes of this, I thought, "Well, last night he wouldn't stay asleep in his bed, and it might have been because he fell asleep in the rocker. Maybe I should put him in his bed now and let him fall asleep there the rest of the way." I laid him carefully down and he was fine. He still retained a fistful of my hair, but eventually he gave it up, rolled into a good position, and was still. WIN! But I was worried, because of his multiple wakeups the previous night (it was so bad I actually don't want to talk about it), so I stayed near him for another five minutes or so. Still quiet. So I carefully got up and went across the room for another blanket, because it was really cold in there.

By the time I got back, he had scootched up to the top of the bed and banged his head on the wall. He was definitely coming awake. I threw the blanket over him and tried to settle him back down with all my usual tricks -- arm around him, escalating to back rub, escalating to back pat, he reaches for my hair ... and we were back to square one. He's tossing, turning, fidgeting, and even starting to talk. My heart sank.

I stayed there for awhile while he poked at me and rolled over and over and over (he gets up against me and just rolls over and over trying to get "even closer" than touching ... generally squashing some part of me in the process). But then I went totally nuts and snatched him out of his bed, trembling with a weird cocktail of exhaustion, frustrating and rage, hissing angrily, "I'm going to ROCK YOU! In the ROCKING CHAIR!" (If you have never done anything like this, you probably don't have kids.)

So we rocked and rocked and rocked and rocked. I almost rocked myself to sleep, but he was still squirmy. Still pulling my hair. I tucked his hand under my arm a bunch of times, but he would squirm and yank it out. I contemplated whether spanking him would get him to fall asleep. Luckily, even my cranky, sleep-deprived mind can't imagine how that would help, so I didn't try that option. I just rocked and rocked and rocked until he was OUT. Then I stayed a long time more, freezing cold because I was afraid to move and get a blanket. And eventually, I crept out.

It was quite a shock to find it was only 4:40. It sure felt like morning. To my relief, I actually did still feel like sleeping, so I got under my covers and slowly started warming up. My eyes closed. I started to drowse ....

And then there was banging on the door and "MAMA!" Twenty minutes. I did all that rocking for twenty minutes of sleep for him ... and zero for me. At that point I really hated my life.

There was no way in this world I was going to go through that again. I might as well get up now ... except I do not want to spend a day with a kid who got up at five a.m. And I was pretty sure what was causing the awakeness ... it's that his room is so darn cold and he absolutely will not keep a blanket on to save his life. So I brought him in bed with me.

Usually this doesn't work at all. He spends all his time fidgeting and trying to kick off the blankets. But this time, it miraculously did! He slept! For two more hours! And I slept ... some. It was way too hot being between two hot people under two comforters. And I didn't have much wiggle room. But I know I did sleep, because I was in the middle of an interesting dream when he started to move.

I put my arm around him to keep him from rolling away ... but because he is contrary, he pulled away from me and rolled away anyway ... and fell right off the bed. We have a very low bed, but it was still a pretty rude awakening. I quickly realized that there was no easy way to make this kid stop screaming without having to leap into sudden bouncing and breakfast-making and pajama-changing action ... except for nursing. So I nursed him. So what if he never weans. I don't care. I got to stay in bed for ten more minutes, and when I poked at him and said, "Wanna go play with the puppy?" he grinned and got right out of bed.

All the same, I really have no idea why I am not napping right now. I totally should be.

If I had a money tree

Welcome to the October Carnival of Natural Parenting: Money Matters

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama. This month our participants have shared how finances affect their parenting choices. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

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This month's natural parenting carnival is about finances. As my regular readers know, our finances are usually pretty tight and we try to be frugal. That means giving up a lot of things we could really use. I could lay out our budget, but why get depressing? Instead, I'll spend some time daydreaming of the things I would buy if we had a money tree growing in the backyard.

For Marko:

*More clothes. That kid grows out of his clothes like nobody's business ... to the point that, money tree or no money tree, I'm going to have to get him some more pants before too long.

*Toys. Most people seem to have too many toys. Other than stuffed animals and baby teethers, Marko doesn't have many. I'd like to get him a ring stacker, a shape sorter, one of those toy lawn mowers that makes noise, and maybe a car he could ride on. Every time we're at other people's houses, he gravitates toward toys like that.

*A big-boy bed. I want to get a regular twin bed, but the kind from IKEA that's low to the ground. We have one in our bedroom and I much prefer it to our tall American beds that I have to climb in and out of ... and it would be safer for Marko. I'd probably add a bedrail, too.

*A few more books. That's more for me -- I'm a little tired of Dr. Seuss these days, but Marko isn't. What we should really do is go to the library more often.

*A pair or two of moccasins. I got him some Rubberoos (which are like socks with a rubber sole) but they're hard to get on and off, plus he's already growing out of them. He needs some good comfy shoes as the weather gets colder -- barefoot is great for now, but soon it's not going to cut it.

What I would buy for the new baby:

*Adorable clothes, especially if it's a girl.

*A woven wrap. Those things are so versatile, not to mention pretty. And, hey, why not a pretty sling or a mei tai, just to accessorize with my outfits?

*Some really nice cloth diapers. There are so many to choose from!

*Baby leggings, to practice elimination communication without getting the baby cold.

*I would love to see if the Amby baby hammock lives up to its reviews. Why don't they sell those for grown-ups, too?

What I would buy for both of them:

*Some time off for Daddy so that we could actually spend more time as a family. I'd give up all the rest if we could get that!

What I am actually planning to buy for them:

*New pants and shoes for Marko.

*Clothes for the baby, if it's a girl. Otherwise, we have plenty of boy clothes. Even so, I think a girl would probably end up wearing a lot of boy clothes anyway ... they're so cute, we have so many of them, and we could just put a pretty bow on the baby's head and call it good. Or, you know, a mailing label on her onesie that says "FEMALE." There are cheaper ways of identifying your baby than a whole new wardrobe.

*Some more prefolds, if Marko's not potty-trained yet, and some more newborn diaper covers.

*A second carseat. Can't avoid that one!



I hope this isn't just an exercise in envy for those who have more, or in dissatisfaction with what we do have. I don't feel that dissatisfied, though. Kids need so little. For instance, Marko would love more toys. But he is also so happy pushing around a laundry basket or stacking books that I don't really feel he's deprived. He has enough clothes to wear and a good place to sleep. And the new baby has so many things of Marko's all lined up: the moses basket, the crib, the bouncy chair, the high chair, the moby wrap, the sling ... she (or he) won't need much else. He (or she) will mainly be interested in eating anyway, so as long as I keep her (or his) bottom dry, toes warm, and tummy full, I think he (or she) will be fine.

(Man, it's hard to have a kid and not know what pronoun to use! I refuse to use "them" unless and until I find out it's twins ... because them is plural. *fixed stare of peeved grammar teacher*)

Most of what I would buy for my kids is really for me. I want things that will make my life easier and make me feel good. The kids themselves? They don't care. Babies haven't changed much since caveman times, when they played with rocks and sticks and went naked.

So, I'm perfectly happy with what we have in the baby-gear department, though I won't deny a few wistful glances at websites selling toys and clothes. We have what we need. Still, if anyone has a money-tree seedling they would like to give me, there's plenty of room in our garden for that!

What would you buy if you had a money tree?

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Visit Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

(This list will be live and updated by afternoon October 11 with all the carnival links.)

• Money Matter$ — Jenny at I'm a full-time mummy shares her experiences on several ways to save money as a parent.


• A different kind of life... — Mrs Green from Little Green Blog shares her utopian life and how it differs from her current one!


• Show Me The Money! — Arpita of Up, Down & Natural shares her experience of planning for parenting costs while also balancing the financial aspect of infertility treatments.


• Material v Spiritual Wealth - Living a Very Frugal Life with Kids — Amy at Peace 4 Parents shares her family's realizations about the differences between material and spiritual wealth.


• If I Had a Money Tree — Sheila at A Gift Universe lists the things she would buy for her children if money were no object.


• Financial Sacrifices, Budgets, and the Single Income Family — Jennifer at Hybrid Rasta Mama looks at the importance of living within your means, the basics of crafting a budget, and the "real cost" of working outside of the home.


• Overcoming My Fear of All Things Financial — Christine at African Babies Don't Cry shares how she is currently overcoming her fear of money and trying to rectify her ignorance of all things financial.


• Confessions of a Cheapskate — Adrienne at Mommying My Way admits that her cheapskate tendencies that were present pre-motherhood only compounded post-baby.


• Money Matters — Witch Mom hates money; here's why.


• Money? What Money?! — Alicia C. at McCrenshaw's Newest Thoughts describes how decisions she's made have resulted in little income, yet a green lifestyle for her and her family.


• What matters. — Laura at Our Messy Messy Life might worry about spending too much money on the grocery budget, but she will not sacrifice quality to save a dollar.


• Making Ends Meet — Abbie at Farmer's Daughter shares about being a working mom and natural parent.


• Poor People, Wealthy Ways — Sylvia at MaMammalia discusses how existing on very little money allows her to set an example of how to live conscientiously and with love.


• The Green Stuff — Amyables at Toddler In Tow shares how natural parenting has bettered her budget - and her perspective on creating and mothering.


• Jemma's Money — Take a sneak peek at That Mama Gretchen's monthly budget and how Jemma fits into it.


• 5 Tips for How to Save Time and Money by Eating Healthier — Family meal prep can be expensive and time-consuming without a plan! Dionna at Code Name: Mama shares five easy tips for how to make your cooking life (and budget) easier.


• Belonging in the Countryside — Lack of money led Phoebe at Little Tinker Tales towards natural parenting, but it also hinders her from realizing her dream.


• Total Disclosure and Total Reform — Claire at The Adventures of Lactating Girl gets down to the nitty gritty of her money problems with hopes that you all can help her get her budget under control.


• Save Money by Using What You Have — Gaby at Tmuffin is only good with money because she's lazy, has trouble throwing things away, and is indecisive. Here are some money-saving tips that helped her manage to quit her job and save enough money to become a WAHM.


• Two Hippos & Ten Euros: A Lesson in Budgeting — MudpieMama shares all about how her boys managed a tight budget at a recent zoo outing.


• ABBA said it — Laura from A Pug in the Kitchen ponders where her family has come from, where they are now and her hopes for her children's financial future.


• Money vs. Time — Momma Jorje writes about cutting back on junk, bills, and then ultimately on income as well ~ to gain something of greater value: Time.


• An Unexpected Cost of Parenting — Moorea at MamaLady shares how medical crises changed how she feels about planning for parenthood.


• 5 Ways This Stay at Home Mom Saves Money — Charise at I Thought I Knew Mama shares 5 self-imposed guidelines that help her spend as little money as possible.


• Frugal Parenting — Lisa at My World Edenwild shares 8 ways she saves money and enriches her family's lives at the same time.


• Conscious Cash Conscious — Zoie at TouchstoneZ shares her 5 money-conscious considerations that balance her family’s joy with their eco-friendly ideals.


• Money, Sex and Having it All — Patti at Jazzy Mama explains how she's willing to give up one thing to get another. (And just for fun, she pretends to give advice on how to build capital in the bedroom.)


• Money could buy me ... a clone? — With no local family to help out, Jessica Claire at Crunchy-Chewy Mama wants childcare so she can take care of her health.


• Spending Intentionally — CatholicMommy loves to budget! Join her to learn what to buy, what not to buy, and, most importantly, where to buy.


• New lessons from an allowance — Lauren at Hobo Mama welcomes a follow-up guest post from Sam about the latest lessons their four-year-old's learned from having his own spending money.


• How to Homeschool without Spending a Fortune — Deb Chitwood at Living Montessori Now shares tips and links to many resources for saving money while homeschooling from preschool through high school.


• It's Not a Baby Crisis. It's Not Even a Professional Crisis. — Why paid maternity leave, you may ask? Rachael at The Variegated Life has some answers.


• "Making" Money — Do you like to do-it-yourself? Amy at Anktangle uses her crafty skills to save her family money and live a little greener.


• Money On My Mind — Luschka at Diary of a First Child has been thinking about money and her relationship with it, specifically how it impacts on her parenting, her parenting choices, and ultimately her lifestyle.


• Spending, Saving, and Finding a Balance — Melissa at The New Mommy Files discusses the various choices she and her family have made that affect their finances, and finds it all to be worth it in the end.


• Accounting for Taste — Cassie at There's a Pickle in My Life shares their budget and talks about how they decided food is the most important item to budget for.


• Money Matters... But Not Too Much — Mamapoekie at Authentic Parenting shares how her family approaches money without putting too much of a focus onto it.


• Parenting While Owning a Home Business — In a guest post at Natural Parents Network, Lauren at Hobo Mama lays out the pros and cons of balancing parenting with working from home.


• Crunchy Living is SO Expensive...Or Is It? — Kelly at Becoming Crunchy talks about her biggest objection to natural living - and her surprise at what she learned.


• Mo' Money, Mo' Problems — Sarah at Parenting God's Children shares how a financial accountability partner changed her family's finances.


• The Importance of Food Planning — Amanda at Let's Take the Metro discusses how food budgeting and planning has helped her, even if she doesn't always do it.


• Kids & Money: Starting an Allowance for Preschoolers — Kristin at Intrepid Murmurings discusses her family's approach and experiences with starting an allowance for preschoolers.