Bedtime

Tonight, I'm sitting on my lovely cushy IKEA couch while I type.  Jesse's sister, Rachel, got a new laptop this holiday season, after her old laptop broke.  Jesse, being both bored and always inclined to take things apart to see if he can fix them, did just that.  There was one little tiny piece that needed to be re-soldered, and voila, it worked again!  Rachel was generous and let us keep her old laptop, which is just almost like a second Christmas.  I can sit on my couch and do my computer stuff!  Instead of in a hard chair under a drafty window!!  Granted, it's a very slow machine, and definitely acting it's age... but so is the desktop computer I've been using: Jesse's hand-me-down after my computer died several months ago.  (It's so tempting to think of buying a shiny new computer with tax returns this year, instead of putting it in savings in case this unemployment thing drags on forever...)

Anyway.  That's not the reason for my post.  I just had to gush about it for a minute.  Because it feels so luxurious to not be chained to a desk.  Even though I still have to be chained to an extension cord, because the laptop battery needs replacing.  ;)

The real reason for this post is bedtime.  "Duh," you're thinking.  "That's the title of the blog post, after all!"  Well, you're right.  I'm being obvious.  But bedtime this week has been such a great discovery!  Let me tell you what bedtime has been like for about the past year:

It would take no less than an hour.  Every. Single. Time.  Sometimes it would take at least twice as long.  It always involved sooooo much singing, reading, soft music, fans blowing for white noise, laying down and cuddling, shushing, heating up rice bags, and on and on and on and on.  Melinda and Jacob would giggle and play and turn their lights on and climb furniture if we dared leave before they were completely settled down.  Alex would take a maddening amount of time rocking, patting, nursing, etc. before he would finally, finally fall asleep and leave us to our treasured, quiet, adult time.  And often, he would wake back up and need even more rocking, patting, singing, nursing, whatever before he would fall back asleep.

When we moved to Colorado, we continued - as closely as possible - to follow those same routines.  But somehow, in a rather sudden way, Melinda and Jacob stopped needing all the jumping through hoops for bedtime.  It might have been the very old-school GloWorms that we started giving them when we left.  Or the change of location.  But at any rate, as soon as we started living in our condo, once we left them in bed, they have generally stayed in bed.  Every now and then someone gets up to use the potty, or to complain of an aching leg, but it's the exception.  And they even stay all night.  They aren't waking up in the middle of the night to come lay in our bedroom anymore.  They stay in their own bed until they wake up in the morning!!  It's heaven!! 

But Alex continued to give us problems.  I ended up finding a good compromise by taking my iPod Touch with me when I would lay down with him, so that when he took an hour or so to fall asleep, at least I had something to do.  Mostly I would read my scriptures on my iPod, but sometimes I listened to a podcast or an audio book, or would sneak in a game or two.  But a few nights ago, Jesse's sister Rachel, brother Ben, and his wife Brea made arrangements to come over and play Settlers with us after the kids were asleep.  I was anxious to play, and Alex was taking for.ev.er. to fall asleep, just being wiggly and goofy and not laying still.  After they had been over for 20 minutes, and I was getting more and more anxious to get out there and play, I finally gave up.  I set up the baby gate in our door, made sure Alex had everything he needed, and left.  He protested loudly for about half a minute, and got quiet.  About a minute later, he cried halfheartedly for a few more seconds, and then I could tell he walked away from the door and climbed in bed.  He was completely calm in only about 2 minutes from the time I had left my room.

I did it again the next night.  He reacted about the same way.

I did it again last night.  I hadn't even finished filling up a glass of water in the kitchen before he was calm and quiet.

I did it again tonight.  And again, he protested very loudly when he knew I was leaving.  After all, he's had me tethered to him since he was a newborn infant, me not leaving until he was good and asleep.  It breaks my heart a little to walk out the door when he's basically screaming for me to stay... BUT, it wasn't even a full 20 seconds before he stopped crying and went back to bed.  And that was the last peep I heard from him.

Can I just tell you how freeing it feels to not have to waste an hour or more of my evening time to get him to sleep?  My quiet time starts at 7:30 now, instead of 8:30 or 9:00pm.  It is marvelous.  So wonderful. 

I have no idea if this will last forever... but I hope it does.  Also, I used to pick him up and lay him in Jacob's bed after he fell asleep, but I'm too nervous to do that after he's fallen asleep on his own, lest I wake him and have to calm him down again.  So I can't go rummaging through all my sewing stuff that is being stored in my bedroom while he's in there asleep.  Maybe I'll get up the courage to try moving him soon, but for now I'm just enjoying the fact that he's big enough to go to sleep on his own, with so very, very little complaint.  It's like I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Think about going away for a night or two.  Contemplate life with a hassle-free bedtime routine.  Mmmm.  Good times.

The Escapades of Jacob

A couple events that happened within the last day and a half made me realize that I still have a lot of things to work on with Jacob!

Story #1
We went to IKEA last night. One, we wanted a new dresser for the kids (they've managed to step inside their drawers so many times that it's becoming impossible to open them, because the railings are bent and the ball bearings completely gone, and there are no replacement parts that I'm aware of). Two, since we had to stay home sick so much over the last week and a half, we really were taking any excuse available to get out of the house. And IKEA does have a nice play place called Smaland, that Melinda and Jacob have just been aching to play in, ever since Jacob became fully potty trained. (Did I mention that he is essentially past accidents now? HOORAY!)

So, off to IKEA we went. Jacob and Melinda ran into the play place without really listening to the young lady attending, as she gave them instructions about no running, and where the bathroom is. After a few minutes into our shopping, Jesse said, "We really should have made Jacob use the bathroom before letting him play." I agreed with him, despite the fact that we made him use the bathroom right before we left the house. He tends to have to go a lot more in the evenings. Still, I wasn't worried that he'd have an accident. Mostly not worried, at least.

We got back to pick them up around 40 minutes after we left them. As soon as we walked up, the young lady said, sort of mumbling in her not-especially-helpful mannerism, "Jacob took off his pants." I know I looked completely shocked. "WHAT?!" I exclaimed. "I have no idea why he'd do that! He's never just taken off his pants before!!" Melinda saw us waiting there, and we waved her over to get ready to go. Meanwhile the young lady went to the bathroom to get Jacobs pants. .... AND his underwear. When she said he took off his pants, I thought she meant he just stopped in the middle of playing, took off his pants, and continued on. But no. He had gone to the bathroom.

And when Jacob goes to the bathroom, he strips himself completely down, sits on the toilet to pee, and then gets back down. And when we're at home, he'll often streak through the house and take a good long time before he puts his underwear and pants back on. I usually either have to chase him down myself, or nag him a good 10-15 times before he finally stops listens to me. That's when we're at home. I haven't left him alone since he potty trained, and I completely forgot about this when we dropped him off at IKEA. Of course he wasn't about to be ready to put his pants right back on, all by himself, before going back to playing at such a nice shiny new play place. It's even more entertaining than home! Why do there what he's not willing to do at boring ol' home?!

So anyway, Jacob had gone potty, left his pants and underwear in the bathroom, and run back to playing. All right before we came back to pick the kids up. And where was he when we got there? Rolling all around in the ball pit, with his completely naked bum. And when he climbed out, there he was, streaking for anyone who cared to watch through the windows into IKEA's main lobby.

Apparently all those other kids in the play place were just absolutely screaming before we got there, too. I have no idea if they were screaming in amusement or terror or what. All I know is that Jacob put on quite a little show for everyone, and had absolutely no inkling about his little social faux pas. He simply used the bathroom like a good boy, and went right back to playing.

Jesse was absolutely mortified. I was slightly amused, but also embarrassed that I had forgotten about this aspect of potty training for public readiness. And, I suppose, Jesse was definitely right about making him use the potty. Would have avoided that whole mess!

But... yeah. We definitely still need to work on his getting-dressed-after-using-the-potty skills. Nice way to get that reminder, huh??


Story #2
While Melinda was at her little preschool with our church friends this morning, I took the boys to the mall to play, and then over to Trader Joe's to do a little shopping. Jacob loved pushing around his little kid-sized cart and helping with the shopping. We enjoyed some free samples. We picked out our favorite foods. And then we went and bought all our food. Just as we were finishing up putting the food into bags, our cashier started giving Jacob balloons. We got two - one for him, one for Melinda. As soon as he had both in his hands, I went and swiped my card to pay for the groceries, and helped finish up bagging the last few things. As I went back to sign, I looked up and Jacob was gone. GONE. Every direction I turned my head, he was nowhere to be found. I almost had a heart attack, I swear!! I finally spied him through the fully-windowed storefront, at the very end of the sidewalk that runs along the storefronts and parkinglot. Just sauntering away, holding his two balloons, completely oblivious to anything else.

A panicked "Oh crap!!" slipped out of my mouth, and I told the cashier I'd be right back. I ran to the automatic doors, stepped right outside them, and yelled Jacob's name. No response. I yelled again, louder. Still no response. Knowing I just ditched my baby in a grocery cart with complete strangers, I took off running after Jacob anyway. Finally got his attention, and brought him back to the store as quickly as I could. There was Alex waiting for me, happily poking tomatoes. Heart still racing, I signed for the credit card and started - with both boys- back out the doors.

I can only guess that once Jacob had the balloons in his hands, his brain thought "Hey! Shopping's done! Time to go!" and just started walking back out. I'm just relieved a million times over that he didn't wander out into the parking lot. He isn't good at looking for cars, yet, especially not when armed with fun toys like balloons in his hand. And it's a very busy parking lot, too! And nobody took him... that's a good thing. Though I don't know why he was able to walk by three different ladies just standing around without a single one of them trying to help him find his mommy, or at least stop him from walking any further.

When we got to our car, I finally had a good chance to tell him how scared I was when I couldn't find him, and ask him why on earth he left without me and walked all alone out into the parking lot? Where was he going? "I don't know." Why didn't he wait for mommy? "I don't know." Didn't he think that was scary, to be all by himself like that? "No."

Sigh. Obviously, I still need to have some really good safety talks with him, too. Who knew a 3-year-old boy would be so much more work than a 3-year-old girl??

The Gazebo

Today was the third lovely day we've had in a row. Temperatures in the 50's-- in February!! We've been getting outside as much as possible, and today was no exception. We went to play over at Meadowood park, which has a lot of nice open space. The kids got out a lot of energy, and bringing bubbles sure helped to find a lot of playmates in an instant. (As one dad put it, "I think you just sent out the Universal Kid Signal with all those bubbles, there!")

On our way home, we passed a lot of large, expensive homes. I usually crease my brows in confusion at why such large houses even exist - they seem like such a waste to me, especially in this economy. But they can be nice to look at, I won't deny that. One in particular had a gazebo attached to a wrap-around porch.

In the instant I saw that gazebo, my brain went into overdrive, flitting through a lot of thoughts in the matter of about two seconds, maybe less. My very first impression was imagining a young couple standing beneath it, in a very innocent and romantic way. Smiling to each other, maybe holding hands or enjoying a cozy embrace. I smiled to myself, with such a picture in my head, thinking about how it feels to be newly in love. The next instant, I imagined being the mom of that young couple, as if it was my house, and perhaps the imaginary girl under that gazebo was my own daughter with one of her first loves. And then the very instant after that thought, I imagined two reactions to that scenario: One, I'm skeptical, judgmental, and not very willing to allow her and her boyfriend their own private space in that moment. I'm not overly kind or particularly happy about the pairing, and it shows on my face and in my voice in the way I react to them, as well as how I talk about it with my husband. Reaction Two, I'm happy. Simply happy. I see my grown teenage daughter smiling, see the twinkle in her eyes, and enjoying the gentle, innocent touches from her boyfriend. And I react by smiling, truly happy that she is happy and having this experience in her life, despite any misgivings I may have about the particular (imaginary) boy that she's in love with. I trust her, I love her, and I want the best for her.

Remember, those thoughts happened in such a rush that it took maybe two seconds, tops. The time it took to see the gazebo attached to the house, and to drive just past it so it wasn't in my line of sight anymore. And I went from smiling, thinking about the romance, to my face completely dropping as I realized in a sort of epiphany moment that those two reactions I pictured in my mind represented a very real choice lying ahead of me in my life. I suddenly wondered if those seemingly random thoughts weren't put there by a Higher Power. And I wondered to myself, will I remember this choice when my daughter is a teenager? Will I remember it now?? Can I make the conscious choice to choose the happier reaction to my children's situations, over the choice to be more grumpy and cynical, refusing to allow myself and possibly my children to feel joy in their experience, instead distrusting their judgment and dismissing the validity of their feelings?


Of course I hope I won't have to think about it for at least 10 or 12 more years.... But the act of envisioning this imaginary scene seemed to make a very clear-cut choice, and acutely simplified the feelings each of us (mother and child) could experience in either scenario. I hope I make the happy choice. I hope I don't try to control their choices, but instead create an environment where they would feel comfortable, and happy, inviting their significant other to our home and spending one-on-one time near me, instead of away from me... perhaps even under a gazebo. And I would smile, and remember what it was like to fall in love, happy that my child was creating her or his own memories in that moment.

The Hunt for Manners

I wonder if I could attribute it to her age: Melinda often refuses to use manners. No "sorry", "please", or "thank you"... instead, we get a full-blown fit of refusal, usually followed by dramatic crying. As if using manners is going to literally kill her. And that alone would be frustrating... but when you add to it that she used to use her "magic words" constantly, even when she was so young that she still couldn't say half of what she needed because she lacked the vocabulary.... Well, it goes beyond frustrating, and enters the zone of outright maddening.

In fact, I've been having such an issue with her doing something rude (or dangerously harmful), and then refusing to even try to make it better. For instance, the other day she knocked Alex down a la the now-popular Jacob Belly Bump, and Alex was walking around with a sippy cup in both hands. She knocked him down from behind, and he fell face-forward without any hands free to catch himself. His face connected with the cup, and he got a lovely cut on his lip. She wouldn't say sorry, give him a hug, or otherwise acknowledge the wrongdoing in any way other than cowering on the floor and shaking her head in refusal. I finally sat her down for a long talk, and made her a "contract" of what she would do if she pushed again. She and I came up with two options for consequences: My contribution was to say sorry and/or give a hug to make the person feel better. Her contribution was to clean the room.

That's right. My daughter would rather clean an entire room than utter a single two-syllable word or extend a hug if she's done something wrong. And she did push again the next day, and she did opt to clean the room instead of saying sorry or giving a hug. Call me incredulous.

Fast forward to today: We rearranged the dinner table in such a way that Melinda lost her preferred spot - one that has only been available for a few weeks. She started having a meltdown over the seating arrangments, despite being given a million and a half choices. It continued for quite some time, and morphed into a meltdown about the dinner itself, and then into wanting someone to stir her soup for her.

Well, we parental units got stubborn by this point. If she was going to sit there and have a fit over every single little thing, we weren't going to stir her soup (something she's perfectly capable of, anyway) until she said please. And oh, boy, how she continued to refuse!

Jesse, bless his clever heart, really saved the day. He began trying to "find" Melinda's "lost manners". Jesse really has a knack for being silly. It's one of the things that made me fall in love with him, after all! But he really out-did himself tonight.

"Hm, mom, I think Melinda's lost her manners! I wonder where they could be?"
(Melinda continues to sob, but her eyes peek up in interest.)

Jesse started asking a long series of questions, trying to discover where those lost manners might be. On top of her head? Under the bag of chips? Inside the vase? Eventually, when Melinda continued to cry and stubbornly refuse to participate in the quest, he got up from his seat, and started wandering around the room. He picked up a couple tissue-paper-decorated vases from the kids' Art Play class last fall, and held them on his head like antlers. "Are these manners??" He tried getting her attention with no luck, and was soon dancing a silly little jig with those "antlers" on top of his head. I couldn't help myself, when I looked at what he was doing- I burst out laughing. Jacob followed suit, too, giggling his head off. Alex looked at him with obvious delight. Melinda still huddled in her chair, oblivious to the new tactic. I convinced her to look, finally, and she hid a bit of giggles in between her sobs. Jesse moved along, now picking up a thick book from my desk. "Hmm, I wonder if this might be manners? Where would it go? Inside my head? Can I fit this inside my head??" And he suddenly starts making a show of shoving the book into his head (by putting it behind his head). Jacob was now beside himself with giggling, and Melinda was even starting to let obvious laughter escape unhidden. But she quickly reverted back to crying.

After a few more tries, Jesse came back to the dinner table. We sort of hemmed and hawed about what to try next, when Jacob joined in: "I have an idea, Daddy!" And when we asked him to show us his idea, he ran off in search of manners, too. First he mimicked the vase-antlers. While giggling. Nope, that didn't work - not manners! Then he ran to the front room, and came back with a pillow on his head. "Is this manners?? NOoooo!" Giggled and ran off. He kept coming back, with lots of variations of things on his head. It was quite entertaining. Finally Jesse called him back to the table, declaring that he tried hard enough, but needed to finish eating now.

We started using exaggerated manners while Melinda continued to sulk.
Jacob: "Can I have more milk, Daddy?"
Jesse: "What do you say?"
Jacob: "Please!!" (with a grin, even!)
Jesse: "Yes, Jacob, here you go!"
Jacob: "Thank you!"
Jesse: "You're welcome!"

And so on.
Melinda still sulked. Jesse proclaimed that Melinda's manners must be lost for good.
"But what if they're lost somewhere inside her, dad?" I asked. (Yes, I'm one of the ones who always addresses her husband by "dad" when children are present. And sometimes when they're not.) "How are we going to find them if they're inside her??"

FINALLY, Melinda starts playing the game. It's been long enough for me to finish two bowls of soup by this point, even with all the discussion in between bites. "Mommy, I want you to look for my manners," she says timidly. "Oh!! Where should I look?" I pry open her mouth and and exclaim, "Oh, look! There's something hanging down at the back of your throat! Is that your manners?" She yanks her head away from me, now giggling, but nope, that wasn't it. I check her pinky toe, maybe it's hiding them. Nope, not there either. A few more tries, and I'm out of ideas, and go back to feeding Alex a few beans from the soup.

Melinda then gives her spoon to Jesse, without a word. He says thank you for the spoon, and sets it down. Then she gives him her bowl, again without a word. He says thank you again, and sets it down near his own bowl, and goes back to eating. After a few moments, she peeps out a quick "Stir!" followed by something that might have been "please". But it was hard to tell, so we wondered if she might mean that she wanted daddy to stir the cheese. So he picked up the spoon and "stirred" the block of cheese. Oh, the giggles! She's coming out of the ridiculous fit, now! But no, she didn't want the cheese stirred, she wanted her soup (now cold) stirred. So she peeps out another "Stir!" followed by a chirped "please!!"

"Melinda found her manners!!!!" we exclaim with joy. A large round of applause! Oh, Alex likes this game! He joins in with his own exuberant clapping, grinning like there's nothing better in the world than dinner time with clapping involved. And you know what? Melinda's smiling, too! Jesse picks up the spoon and stirs the soup, and hands it back to Melinda happily. She looks so proud of herself!

And then she wants some water - with ice. "Can I have more water, please?" "Yes, you can!! Here you go." "Thank you!" "You're welcome!" And every time she used a manners word from then until we were down from the table, we erupted with "Hoorays!!!" and another round of clapping. What fun! Even Melinda was enjoying the magic words by this point.

It makes everyone happy to use manners, doesn't it??

Laughing at Myself

I need to learn to stop making predictions about myself and my life.  Really, I do!

Yesterday, at the end of my post, I said:

Now I have to get back to my more womanly duties of feeding children and bathing them.  At least I know I have more chance of being successful on those counts, even if it is a bit dull.

Within 2 minutes of posting that, I walked into the kitchen with the intent of making dinner.  I paused for about 5 seconds, surveying the dishes that needed to be done, then looked at my dinner choices, and decided that there was no way I was going to convince myself to do any of it right then and there.

So I ordered in some chinese.  And it was fantastic, by the way.  But still... there I was claiming I have a high chance of success for cooking (although, I suppose maybe it's a good thing I didn't use that exact word?), and I turn around and just order food almost immediately.  At least I washed the dishes while I waited for the delivery!  That's something. 

And the bathing?  Holy cow.  Apparently I've never bathed all three of my children at once, before, without any backup help.  And I think I will avoid doing so ever again.  Because I've never been more soaked during the bathing process than I was last night.  If there had been room for me, it would have been safer just to get in the bath with them, you know? 

As soon as I had put Alex in the bath, he was a CONSTANT ball of moving and spalshing.  I could not take my hands off him for one fraction of a second.  And with Melinda and Jacob both in there, too, things were.... um, interesting.  So I washed Alex as fast as I could, held him for a couple more minutes while he non-stop-splashed for fun, and then took him out and threw a towel on him. And tried to block the opening to the tub so he wouldn't dive right back in.  Now, see, at this point, I would normally hand him off to Jesse.  But I didn't have Jesse.  And I didn't think far enough ahead (bad me!) to think that maybe I should bring in a back-up plan, like a high chair to strap him into.  So then I'm trying to wash Melinda and Jacob while also trying to keep Alex from diving into the water, and we were missing our dumping cup, and Jacob hates putting his head in the water, so it was a fight to get him to lay down for rinsing and everything.  At least Melinda didn't fight me, but she has the most hair and took the longest, all the same.  And then, during the time that I was taking care of the two older kids, Alex peed on the floor.  Yay.  And then in the time it took me to get them both out of the tub and into their own towels, he peed on the rug.  Double yay.  And then we had to dry everyone off.... and still keep Alex out of trouble in the bathroom, which meant sitting one child on the toilet (so he couldn't open it) and guarding the toilet paper, while quickly drying the other off.  Jacob did a spectacularly worse job than Melinda did at guarding the toilet paper.  But at least we didn't have any toilet incidents.  I suppose I was successful in that I did actually bathe them, and they got clean... but it sure didn't feel like a success.

And I was so tired by the end of the night, that I even went to bed early - gasp!! 
And church without Jesse... another big ball o' crazy.  Especially when all 9 of my kids showed up to our Primary class.  At least I had one of the moms in there for an extra pair of hands (which was very needed, since Alex got cranky and had a big ol' runny nose)!  But 9 (loud, wiggly) kids in a small classroom... and that was only one part of the exhautstion.  I'm not afraid to say I went home early.  I'm not quite crazy enough (or maybe devout enough?  I don't know) to sit through a full 1.5 hour "reverent" meeting with those three kids all by myself.  It's hard enough with Jesse there, to keep them quiet and contained.
All you single mothers out there.... I honestly don't know how you do it.  Truly.  I'm so very, very glad that Jesse's on an airplane home right now, and that I'm leaving to pick him up in just a little more than 3 hours from now.  And, also, that the weather forecast has changed for no snow tonight, so I don't have to drive to Virginia with possessed windshield wipers.  That's definitely a blessing!

Drowning

I'm going to keep this short, because the more I say, the more undoubtedly gross it will be.

I'm feeling so overwhelmed by poop these days.

I have a 5  year old who can't (won't?) wipe herself.
A 3 year old who can't (won't?) remember that you poop in a potty, not in a diaper, not in underwear, NOT ON THE FLOOR!!!!  And he certainly can't wipe himself, either.
And of course, the baby, who at least poops the way you expect him to poop.

I can't wait for the day when I'm not wiping three children's bottoms multiple times every day.

Needs More Sleep

Yes, it's a given that I need more sleep. I feel like I can never have enough.

But I'm talking about Alex. His schedule today (well, yesterday, technically), which was insane and completely unexplained:

9:30am: Wake up for the day.
Played until 12:30pm (and hard- it was playgroup day!), started getting cranky. Nursed some, didn't want to hold still, played some more, despite the crankies.
Finally fell asleep at about 1:30pm. I held him in my arms for about 10 minutes or so. When he seemed good and out, I laid him down.
He immediately woke up.
I tried nursing him back to sleep. It worked, and he slept for maybe 5 more minutes. He seemed out, so I put him back in his crib, since I can't leave him on a bed anymore.
He immediately woke up again.
But this time he was WIDE awake.

I gave up. It was now 2pm and I hadn't fed the older kids lunch yet. Ugh.
Alex went back to playing. No sign of napping on the horizon.

3:30pm rolled around, Alex still hadn't acquiesced to sleeping. Jacob was causing problems left and right, Melinda was playing the part of a cheerful accomplice, and Alex was now melting down at every bump on the head. Which was a lot. Because he was tired, and getting uncoordinated. And because Jacob was causing problems too (*cough*throwing toys and roughhousing*cough*)

Somehow I decided that the ideal solution to mommy not going bonkers and burning the house down would be to take the kids shopping.

That was stupid. Jacob kept up his antics at the store, and I was buying storage containers, so there was no room for strapping him in the cart. I should have anticipated that. Again, it was stupid, incredibly so. Luckily we were in and out before too long. (Read: before Jacob decided to really play hide-n-seek in the store.)

Alex fell asleep in the pouch carrier as I was paying, at approximately 4:15pm.

He kept sleeping soundly as I transferred him to his car seat.
He slept during the 5 minute drive home.
He slept as I walked up the stairs to the apartment.
He slept as I put down my bag.
He woke up as soon as I put him down in the crib.

All children were immediately sent to their respective beds for their own protection. I went back out the car to grab the boxes, and let Alex cry in the crib for those couple minutes. Something I never do. I have enough issues with simply leaving my kids in the apartment for just a couple minutes to grab groceries or check the mail. I also don't like to let my kids cry in bed. I did both in one shot, intentionally. I really was going crazy.

By the time I got back up, a max of 3 minutes later, Alex was already reaching past the edges of his crib to play with items on my nightstand, and no longer crying. I decided to just leave him there, and leave the older two in their room, too, until daddy got home about half an hour later. Nobody was crying. I was breathing.

Ate dinner.
Played games with the kids.
Nursed in a rocking chair.
Alex fell asleep again (finally!!) at about 6:30pm.



He woke up 5 minutes later.



Put older kids to bed.
Caught up on blogs.
Rescued tired, stubborn, uncoordinated baby from ramming into every piece of furniture in sight.
Watched Presidential Debate.

Alex finally fell asleep ... for good ... at 10:30pm.

Summary:
From 9:30am to 10:30pm, my not-quite-6-month-old baby had only about 30-40 minutes worth of napping. And not even solid minutes, at that. Broken up into just a few teeny tiny segments over the course of the day. And this was on about 11 hours of sleep overnight.

No, 12 hours is not enough sleep for a baby in a 24-hour period of time. I can't explain it.

Any time I tried to get him to hold still - to nurse, to rock, to walk, whatever - he was squirming with every ounce of strength he had (and boy, does he have a lot!). Arching his body in order to squirm his way to the freedom of the open floor. He did not want to hold still. At all.

He had better sleep like an angel tomorrow.
.....What an incredibly insane day.

Neighborhood Children Etiquette/Safety

So I've run into a situation I never before really imagined.

As we were walking into our house the other night (and I do mean night - it was practically dark outside), suddenly, out of nowhere, a little girl was right in the middle of my still-walking family (seriously, was she hiding under the stairwell or something?!), asking if "her"- pointing to Melinda- could come play. Jesse and I exchanged quick, confused glances, looked around to find her alone, and I explained that we couldn't play, because we were taking the kids in for bed now. I suggested she come over another time. I didn't actually expect it to happen.

Call me naïve. She came over again tonight, as we were finishing up dinner. Jesse would be leaving for cub scouts within the hour, and this is part of our unofficial family time. At the knock on the door, I got up to answer it. Impatient someone was on the other side, and began knocking incessantly as I made the 20 steps over to the door with Alex in hand. I was, at that point, expecting to open the door to find a family friend or something. Who else would knock like that? Oh, right, a young child all by themselves, I guess.

As soon as I opened the door, she blurted out a quick hi, saw Melinda behind me, and started walking in as she asked "Can I play with 'her'"? I held the door firm, confusion and disbelief quickly swimming up to the surface of my mind.

"Umm, we're having dinner right now. She can't play."
"Oh, that's okay." She starts forward to push past me. I hold the door firm, still, trying to think through this as best I can.
"Where do you live?" I nearly demand.
"Over there." She points vaguely towards a wall, and I assume she means a neighboring building.
Still not at all happy with this situation, I ask a little roughly, "How old are you?"
"Five." She answers without hesitation.
"Is your mom or dad home?" I'm still looking for reason somewhere among this situation.
"Yes." She waits impatiently for me to allow her passage, while Melinda and Jacob are practically clawing past me to meet this new, interesting person.
"Do they know where you are??"
"Uh-huh." No hesitation. She believes her answer.
But I hesitate. There is no way on earth that her parents really know where she is. I certainly don't know who they are or where they live. I still haven't met any of the adults in this complex. Well, aside from one church member who is moving next week. How could any parent let any 5-year-old girl wander through a very densely-packed apartment complex, inviting herself into random people's homes? 20 years ago, sure. But in this day and age?!?? I'm SHOCKED! I seriously can't believe it!!!

In the end, the conversation dragged on a little while longer, because this is seriously one persistant little girl, but I told her the kids couldn't play tonight, they'd be going to bed soon after their dad left for the evening. When she asked when she could come again, I told her she could come back before dinner sometime.

And as I shut the door on this little girl for the second time, again completely alone, I suddenly realized that maybe it wasn't a good thing to do. If she weren't coming into my home, whose home would she go into? Would she be safe? There are at least 5 sexual offenders of some degree listed within 1 mile of this complex. None of them are listed in the complex, but what's to keep them from hanging out in the parking areas? I suddenly felt very guilty for sending her away. But I can't in good concience allow her in, either, not knowing her family at all. Or is that wrong of me? It at least feels wrong to bring a complete stranger into the house, no matter what her age is.

I have a feeling she'll come back another day. What do I do? She is, most likely, a perfectly decent child, and my kids would enjoy knowing other kids in the neighborhood. But Jesse and I both have really icky sorts of feelings about parents who would let their 5-year-old daughter ask herself into other people's homes without ever checking out the situation themselves. I suppose, if I have time whenever she next appears, I could have her take us with her to meet her family, so we can get an idea of what's going on. Maybe her parents don't even actually know she's out of the house and walking around the neighborhood? It's a possibility, right? And if I meet her parents, is it appropriate to tell them that I'm seriously uncomfortable with the fact that their very young daughter is not being supervised in these situations? And here's another sudden thought: Am I supposed to call the police, or something, if I have a strange child approach my door without supervision, even with the innocence of just wanting to play? In Jesse's words, this is "criminal child neglect!!!" I don't know if that's technically true, but the whole situation feels shocking enough for me to nod my head vigorously, my eyes wide as saucers, when he says it.

And it also brought up some interesting conversations about strangers with Melinda. In Melinda's eyes, because I was with her, and the girl gave us her name, she is no longer a stranger and perfectly okay to play with and let her into our house. I'm going to have to work on this one. She's always overly-friendly with new adults, too. There's a book I've heard recommended a million times, called Protecting the Gift. Looks like I really truly need to read it and then work on discussions with my kids a little harder.

But really, I'm not the only one quite a bit creeped out by this, am I? This sort of thing may have been acceptable when I was a child in a quiet neighborhood 20-some-odd years ago, but certainly not anymore, right?? RIGHT???

Need a Reminder?

If you're a mom (and I'm willing to bet that if you're reading this, you are), and you ever find yourself feeling frustrated and maybe giving up a little bit (like I know I often do), please do yourself a favor and go read this post at Creative Construction: Life & Art. Miranda does a fantastic job at reminding her readers about the choices we make in our perspectives, and how it can affect our mothering.

Day 2

Well, Day 1 went alright. We did get out of the house and do some shopping. Jacob fell asleep in the car on the way to Babies R Us, where we spent a gift card, and stayed asleep in the basket of the cart- with my diaper bag for a pillow- the whole time we were browsing. We then went grocery shopping*, and by the time we were home, it was 4:30. Just enough time to put groceries away, get the kids a snack, sit down to nurse Alex, and then Jesse called. After we all talked, we had some dinner. I was going to do leftovers, but the kids asked for sandwiches, and I obliged, and kept the leftovers to myself.

*At the end of the grocery shopping, I took Jake out of the cart to make room for the filled bags, and within seconds, had completely forgotten that I took him out. Which resulted in a very embarrassing moment: I practically ran him over with the grocery cart. I have no idea what exactly happened... he was probably hanging onto the front of the cart and I was just going a little too quickly for him to keep up with his legs, or something. All I know is that suddenly about 3 different people all looked at me in horror and exclaimed, "He fell down! He fell down!!!" He didn't even whimper, so I don't think he got hurt at all, though his pants did get scuffs on them. But I seriously felt like worst mommy of the year.

They asked me to play some Mario Kart on the Wii, a while after dinner. They like to watch video games. It's not as interesting to watch mommy play Mario Kart, as it is to watch daddy play Zelda, though, and pretty soon, Jacob was sticking slobbery fingers all over Melinda, which really upsets her for obvious reasons, and nothing I was doing was making him stay settled down... and well, it eventually degraded into Jacob chasing Melinda all over the room, with her running and crying hysterically, and finally Jacob shoving Melinda right off the couch. I had just had it at that point, and decided it was a perfect time for bedtime. Well, Melinda really didn't like that, especially since it wasn't her fault that Jacob was being aggressive and getting on my nerves. But it really was technically their bedtime, anyway, so I stuck to it. Unfortunately the crabby part of me really came out in the whole process, because Melinda just wouldn't stop having a fit about the whole going-to-bed thing, and I was just getting tired of it, and cranky. Not proud of how bedtime went down, especially toothbrushing time, but Melinda was eventually sound asleep, and Jacob was sticking to his now-typical "I'm scared of everything but not going to actually act scared, just say I am" routine. He eventually got sleepy enough to join Melinda on the top bunk, but woke her back up in the process, and because she had thrown such a fantastic fit, her nose was stuffy and she couldn't breathe through it, which prompted another fit. *FINALLY* both of them ended up asleep, and Alex fell asleep around 9pm as well. It was a relief after the noise all three of them were making for a while, there. But then, there was nothing on TV. No new Netflix video to watch. And I didn't know how long Alex would be asleep, so I ended up deciding to start a new book.

It was far too quiet for me last night. I enjoyed reading and not being on constant mom-duty, but I also just felt too exposed to my drifting thoughts, when it came time for bed. Things like, why can't I be more fun and less business-like as a mom? What will my kids feel about their relationship with me if I don't change myself during the next several years? How do I change it? But I don't want to go through all that effort to change it, it doesn't feel like I can. Why am I so lazy that I can't even convince myself that changing would be good, even if it's hard? Anyway, you can probably see the sort of mood I put myself into as I was falling asleep, with thoughts going in that direction. I found myself wishing for the noise of Jesse snoring just to distract me from my thoughts. Because the annoying part of my thoughts was simply that they were making me realize that my family would benefit greatly from any efforts I could make to inject a more fun attitude into how I operate as a mom... and well, I have so many other goals in the back of my head right now that adding one more big one just makes me want to give up completely. I can't do it all at once, and I have no idea which is most important and should take priority. Plus, I've never been great at fulfilling my goals, anyway.

But enough about me and my wandering thoughts. We're now on Day 2, and it's going alright, although it would be better if Jacob weren't in such a frustrating age. We had an activity planned for this morning, but it was canceled due to rainy, yucky weather. So we did more shopping instead, and I got shiny new crayons for the kids, among other things. Melinda said the crayons were "just so exciting!", which made me giggle. Ah, but I know what she means. I'm always such a sucker for a brand new smooth-writing pen, myself!

Emily is coming over in just a little while. She saw my post yesterday and decided it was a perfect day to bring us some dinner. I'm so glad! I'm sure I could have managed just fine, but I'm even happier not to have to worry about it at all, and then to have her and her daughter's company, as well! Emily's always such a joy to be around, and it will make the day feel much less lonely. (Jacy, I don't know how you can do a full week at a time without Steve around! Do you spend a lot of time on the phone to make sure to get some contact with adults, or what?)

Hopefully bedtime will go a little nicer for all of us tonight. And of course, I have American Idol to entertain myself with this evening!!

Day 1

Jesse's staying in New York (not the city, but within sight of it) for a couple nights for work. I'm not thrilled about it, to say the least. I probably depend on Jesse coming home from work every day more than a lot of mothers do... it's just about all that gets me through the day, sometimes, knowing that soon there will be another adult to play "tag team" with. So I have a couple days of being on my own with three kids, and hopefully my sanity will stay in tact. And actually, Jesse doesn't know if he'll be coming home on Wednesday or not. They might need to stay Wednesday night and not come home till Thursday, if the timing works out that way.

Sigh.

I think the key will probably be to get ourselves out of the house as much as possible, so the kids aren't constantly bored and fighting with each other. So today we'll do some grocery shopping, go spend a gift card at Babies R Us, and maybe even do some clothes shopping for me, if I have energy for it. (And while I have plenty of clothes, a very dismal few look decent on my body shape anymore!) I'd like to throw a playground in there for the kids' sake, but I'm not sure the weather will be good for one. Guess we'll have to find out.

Wish me luck! These next few days will be the testing grounds for the next big adventure: Jesse has to go to Japan in early June for at least a week. I'm reeeeally not looking forward to that. Especially right near, and possibly overlapping, our birthdays. :(

Parenting goals

In one of the parenting groups I belong to, a question was posed:

What is your long range goal for your child? How will you look back and judge your parenting choices as successful or unsuccessful? As an adult, what qualities do you hope your child will have, and what are you doing now to encourage those qualities?

This is a fantastic group of parents that belong to this particular group. Whenever we get together, I see such joy, patience, love, and understanding in their parenting style. They're the kind of parents I try my hardest to be. And all too often, I feel like I fail miserably.

I've never been an especially goal-oriented person. I tend to live more in the moment than anything else, and react to situations as they present themselves. I can't say for sure whether this is more due to my personality, or the fact that I don't like to expend the effort needed to actually formulate and follow through with goals. But living "in the moment" tends to have a not-so-great effect on the way I view my relationships, I think. I don't plan ahead, I don't dream of how I want the relationship to evolve. They just are, and I tend to accept them as-is. While this is a great way to avoid getting into fights, I think maybe my relationships lack a lot of depth, which is a shame. Especially after reading some blog posts like this one and this one, I've been feeling like maybe I should put more conscious thought into my life and especially my relationships. Take them beyond what they are, and see them for what they could be.

And then the above questions are posed, and BAM, I'm just hit by how much I really wish I could answer those questions. I just don't have an answer for them! I've never sat down to think about my long-range goals (or even short-range, really!) for my children. What qualities do I feel most important for my children to have, and what on earth am I doing to instill those qualities in them? How will I judge my parenting as successful or not? And how can any of those questions be answered unless I am consciously working at some sort of goal on a day-to-day, hour-by-hour basis?

I find myself quite wrapped up in some sort of survival mode, I think. I spend far too much time just trying to survive the mundaneness of going from one poopy diaper to the next, one grocery shopping trip to the next, one day to the next... There are so many opportunities throughout a day for me to teach something to my kids, but I don't take advantage of more than a very small percentage of them. There are so many opportunities for really valuable activities, but I get lost in the motions needed to make it through the day.

I know it can't be impossible to be what I want to be. And as I'm about to write "I just wish I knew what it takes to get from where I'm at to where I want to be", I realize the answer: I need to make those goals. I need to think of them every morning as I wake up. I need to review them regularly throughout the day. I need to pray for the inspiration for how to follow through with my goals during our daily activities, so I can slowly gain that patience and joy in my parenting that I'd love to have.

The only way I'm going to get out of the rut is to make some changes. And changes take goals. And goals take conscious thought. So I'll be thinking.