Monday, September 28, 2009

A Prescription for Insanity

The week Nelson was in Texas, I had to take Miles for his follow up with the pediatric allergist re: his eczema. I specifically selected a Friday that Nelson would be off of work so he could stay home with Oscar, but then he told me about this trip to Texas and I totally forgot to reschedule the appointment.

Truth? I totally forgot about the appointment until the day before, when they called to remind me. I so totally forgot that I had scheduled my contractor to come in and fix my kitchen ceiling and I had to call and cancel him.

Since I pretty much had no choice, I prepared to bring both boys to the appointment. I stocked my diaper back with snacks (including COOKIES!!) and several toys (a car, a truck, a magna doogle, a coloring toy) so that Oscar would be occupied. Also, I dressed them in matching outfits because AWWW!

And let the failure begin.

So, it's raining. Yuck. I arrive at the address fifteen whole minutes before my appointment and assemble the double stroller. Oscar REFUSES to get in. "I walk, I hold hands, no stroller, NO STROLLER." So of course he wins and I load up Miles and we go to head in, only to discover I'm on the wrong side of the building.

I make to walk around the building and as I get to the side, I see that there are STAIRS to get around the building because the building is situated on a hill. Yeah, I can't get my effing stroller up stairs, particularly as I'm now carrying Oscar, "Momma, hold you! Momma hold you! MOMMA HOLD YOU!" Then, I spied a handicap entrance and we used that because having two children is pretty hindering, if no outright handicapping.

We make it into the office and Oscar is ALARMED. He recognizes this as a doctor's office, where they gave him a flu shot the week prior, so he immediately starts in on, "Go home now. Go home. Want to go home, Momma, GO HOME!" and clings to me like a monkey while I check in.

Thankfully, we are called back pretty quickly. I take Miles out of his stroller so they can take his vitals and I put Oscar in so he won't run off. We get put in an exam room pretty quickly.

And that would be awesome except that the exam room is about the size of a broom closet. A broom closet in a doll house. It is freaking TINY. Like, so tiny that once we are inside, I cannot close the door because my stroller is blocking the doorway.

In this tiny broom closet there are two chairs (the stroller is parked in front of the chairs), an exam table, the doctor's stool, and a desk area w/drawers and such. There is not much room for Oscar to play. And, as I mentioned, the door is open. So, he makes a run for it six or eight times.

I finally get him back in the room and engaged w/the car and truck. Miles is at my feet playing with him. I'm in one of the chairs jammed behind the stroller. We've been waiting about 20 minutes.

A fellow comes in a talk with us for a few minutes and this goes well. I give Oscar the magna doodle; I hold Miles on my lap.

Ten more minutes pass and the actual doctor comes in with the fellow. Before he even gets there, I know it is too late. Oscar is asking to go home. Sacks and toys have been spent. This is not going to Go Well.

The doctor and the fellow cram into the room, which is so small the fellow is lounging on the exam table and the doctor is sitting about two feet away from me.

The allergist begins asking me about Miles; Oscar tries to climb on my lap with Miles.

The allergist examines Miles in my lap; Oscar begins hanging off of my shoulder and demanding to go home.

The allergist asks my opinion of skin testing; Oscar is asking me to draw him a robot, a plane, a helicopter, a goddamn ELEPHANT; I put Miles in the stroller.

The allergist agrees with me that skin testing is too invasive for Miles' condition; Oscar loses his crayon and goes ape shit.

The allergist asks me what I think of continued use of the steroid cream; Oscar starts TURNING THE LIGHT ON AND OFF OHMYGOD I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING.

The allergist assures me there will be no systemic involvement from the steroids; Oscar opens my diaper bag and starts flinging it's contents all over the room and ONTO DOCTORS BECAUSE I'VE RAISED A HEATHEN A HEATHEN A FLINGING HEATHEN.

The allergist encourages me to continue introducing Miles to new foods, soy, dairy, wheat, whatever; Oscar is DIVING FROM A CHAIR ONTO ME SHRIEKING TO GO HOME NOW BECAUSE HOLY CRAP I CANNOT CONTROL MY CHILD.

The allergist leaves and I start picking up the contents of my bag. A nurse come in with a scrip and tells me they will see me again in five months, unless things get worse.

I load up the boys and we head home. They both fall asleep in the car and I sit with them in the driveway for 30 minutes after we get home, just to enjoy the sweet, sweet, silence.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The Lonely Road

As I briefly mentioned, last week it was just me an the wee ones. Nelson had a week-long meeting in Texas. He left Sunday afternoon and was slated to return late Friday. That would leave me with SIX nights alone with the boys.

Now, I'm alone with them every day so that's really no biggie. But at night? The dreaded dinner, bath, bed trifecta of doom? That is tough stuff to do solo when you've got just one kid. And two kids is more then double the trouble.

The last time Nelson went out of town for this long, I called in the reserves. I had friends and family come by every night but two. They brought me food, they helped me bath my kids, they read Oscar books.

Of the two nights I was alone, one was a fucking nightmare and one was easy peasy. I thought I learned a lot based on those two nights about what worked and what didn't, so I decided to go solo this time. Aside from one night when my sister came over and stayed, I managed alone. And it was not awful. I was remarkably successful, even.

Here's how I did it:

1. I prepped, big time. I spent most of the day and a half preceding Nelson's trip doing laundry, grocery shopping, running errands, etc. (with lots of help from Nelson) so I we had clean clothes and plenty of food for the week. This way I had no errands to run during the week, toting the boys along.

2. I took a tip from the Baby Bunching website and I bathed my kids together every night. I know this does not work for everyone, but it worked really well for me. Bath time is an important part of our ritual so they were bathed every night but one. That one night was the most difficult to get them down, too. It seems the bath is worth the extra effort.

3. I asked for help. I asked my sister to come over and help out on Wednesday and she did. I was hanging in there quite well, but it was a welcome relief and nice to have some adult conversation.

3. I accepted help that was offered. Danny's moms offered to bring dinner over one night and I accepted. I didn't have to cook, they even cleaned up, and ADULTS!

4. I ordered out. Twice. And I didn't feel bad about it.

5. I used disposable plates. That little bit of extra garbage gave me a lot of extra sanity.

On top of all of this, I had pretty low expectation. Like, way lower then you are thinking. Lower. LOWER. I decided that if I could not cry on the phone to Nelson every night; and we all got dressed and ate one good meal every day: SUCCESS!

And I did it! Nelson caught an early flight home and bathed the boys all by himself on Friday while I relaxed (or sat in the next room terrified someone was going to drown.)

Single moms? You guys are my heroes. I barely made it not quite a full a week; you do it every single day. Hats off you, ladies. Hats off.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

RTT: I'm Not Pregnant

Are you feeling less than fresh? A little...random, perhaps? Go on over to the Un Mom and she'll fix you up right.

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* Update on the Napping Sitch: My new attitude is WHATEVER. Yes, we are both much happier when Oscar naps but I've come to realize it's just not going to happen everyday anymore. I've been super lucky to have a mostly consistent napper up to this point, so I'm just going to accept that Oscar only napping three out of five days is the new normal and move on.

*Have I mentioned here that Miles is sleeping like shit? Like waking every 2-3 hours? Like he's an infant again? We've tried CIO and it just does not work. He'll cry for like ten minutes, sleep for five, cry again, sleep again, etc. Well, I decided to ask my friend the Internets about this and, turns out? There's something referred to as the 9-month-old sleep regression. I actually remember this with Oscar too; at around nine months, his sleep training flew out the window and he was back in bed with us nursing all night until he was 10-11 months. So, we are going to tough it out for another month and try again.

*In similar news, Miles is NINE MONTHS OLD OHMYGOD. My baby is growing up. He'll be one in three months! One year old! Didn't I just give birth to him a month ago? I was sobbing into a pair of 18-month pants the other night about how HE WON'T NEED ME ANYMORE and how the boys are GROWING UP TOO FAST. Way emotional. I was not this emotional at the idea of Oscar turning one. Possibly because I was already pregnant with Miles?

*Holy shit I hope I'm not pregnant. HAHAHAHA I kid, I kid. I'm absolutely not pregnant. I haven't even had a period like a year and a half. I really hope I'm not jinxing myself here. I'm not talking about this anymore.

*So, I am CONVINCED that Danny's new sibling is going to be a girl. I can't wait for her to be born. I have to wait six months, but then she'll be here with me all day! I hope that is enough to stave off my baby fever because the plan is not to have another baby until 2012. We'll see how that goes.

*I've spent the last two weekends sorting washing fall clothes for the boys. And, know what? It's going to be 80 degrees all week. WTF, Mother Nature? It's fall already. Lets get a move on.

*I'm so excited about this movie. We might actually get a sitter. I know, right?

Monday, September 21, 2009

Lucky

Last night, we were pulling out some of Oscar's old toys for Miles and packing up the more baby-ish toys. We were also pulling out fall/winter hand-me-downs for both boys from the attic and putting up outgrown clothes, shoes, etc.

Our attic is of the pull down variety; the stairs are located in the ceiling of Oscar's room over his crib. To access the attic, we move Oscar's crib and pull down the stairs. We had about eight boxes to go up, so we popped both boys in the crib so I could pass boxes to Nelson.

After we were Oscar stayed in his crib reading books and I put Miles on the floor so I could sort the stuff from the attic and put away clean clothes.

At some point, I heard Miles crying and realized that he was no longer on the floor; Nelson had put him back in the crib with Oscar and LEFT THEM UNATTENDED. When I got into Oscar's room he was pushing Miles down and piling toys on top of him.

Okay, so if you don't already know this you should NEVER leave your toddler with your infant unattended. NEVER. Even if your toddler has never acted out agaist the baby (this would be shocking) he could hurt the baby either intentionally or accidentally.

I tell this to Nelson as I pull Miles out of the crib, and Nelson acknowledges he should have known not to leave them alone. I pass Miles (who is unharmed) to Nelson so I can use the bathroom.

When I get out of the bathroom (two minutes later? five minutes later?) Nelson is standing there holding Miles and he says, "I think he has something in his mouth."

"What?"

"I think Miles has something in his mouth."

So, I immediately grab Miles' cheeks and do a sweep. Something falls out. It's a PIECE OF WOOD. Maybe a quarter of an inch long?

We begin wondering where this could have come from? Did it come off the floor? Did he PRY UP a piece of our wood floor? They are older and not in perfect condition, but him prying up a piece of floor seems unlikely.

Then, Nelson says, "Wait, he's still got something in there."

I grab Miles again and so a sweep. I feel nothing, but he's clearly gumming something so I go in again, reaching more for the roof of his mouth. And I feel something. Sharp? And as I try to sweep it, I accidentally push it down his throat and he beings choking. Like silent-gag-no-air choking.

Inside I am PANICKING. Miles is choking. He cannot breath. He is going to dye, right here right now. I killed my baby.

Outside, I am instructing Nelson, "Tip him forward!" And I'm firmly patting Miles on his back. And it's working. Miles is beginning to cough, so I stop patting; he starts choking again. I start patting his back again and he begins coughing. I grab him and go in again. I pull out a piece of well-gummed cardboard the size of a quarter. I sweep again. Nothing. I got it all.

All of this transpired in maybe 20 seconds? Less?

Miles is alive and smiling. My head begins spinning, things start going black. I sit down with my head between my knees. "We could have lost him. We almost lost him. I almost killed him."

"No, Jenni you saved him. I had no idea what to do. I could not have done that."

"You are supposed to look before you sweep and I didn't. I just went right into his mouth and I could have killed him."

The cardboard came from one of the boxes. We tracked the wood down to Oscar's crib where we found another small piece. It seemed to have fallen from the attic when we pulled down the stairs. Both innocent accidents; small pieces of everyday debris that we hardly ever take notice of. They could have killed my baby.

Choking is the number one cause of accidental death in children under the age of one. We were so very lucky. He had both of those items in his mouth for SEVERAL minutes without attempting to swallow them. This story could have so easily ended differently.

This was a very scary moment for me. The possibility of losing Miles felt very real and very near. Recalling the fear - the cold pit in my stomach; the panic flutter around my heart; the hot lump in my throat; the inability to get air into my lungs. I'm still not quite over it.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

A Poor Start

Miles fell off the bed this morning.

He came to bed with me at around midnight last night and an left him there. I nursed him this morning at 5AM (and one other time in the wee hours) and left him to sleep while I showered.

Miles was still sleeping,so I left him, bumpered by pillows, in the bed. I took the monitor so I'd hear any snuffles or shuffles. It's not uncommon for me to do this - to leave him in the bed while I try to get in a cup of coffee and a quick blog read while both boys are still in bed.

Oscar woke just after seven.

"Mommy? Mommy?"

On my way to retrieve him, I peeked in on Miles. Still sleeping peacefully. I'd left the monitor downstairs, but he was only one room over. I figured I'd hear him. That'd he call out when he was away. Something.

I spend five or so minutes tickling Oscar in his crib and talking to him about the day, "Danny will be here, then Kiki is coming for dinner and to read you books."

Then I heard a thunderous BOOM! For a second, I though something had exploded, it was so loud and resonant. And then Miles began screaming.

I rushed into the bedroom and turned on the light. Miles was on his tummy on the floor, at the foot of the bed. He crawled right off the edge of the bed and seemed to have hit one of Oscar's fire trucks on his way down.

I waited a few seconds to make sure he could move his neck and limbs before I scooped him up and began muttering apologies over and over while he sobbed into my chest. I'm so thankful he's not seriously injured and I feel like a complete moron for leaving him.

This is not the way I wanted to start my day.

Monday, September 14, 2009

RTT: You're Gonna Love Meeeeeeeeeee

Oh, Tusday, how I love thee! Thanks as always to our lovely host, Keely.
randomtuesday
Let's get Raaaaaaaadooooooooooooom!

*I am watching Dreamgirls for the first time right now, and daaaaaaaaaamn, Jennifer Husdson blew the doors off that shit, didn't she? Wow. But I'm just realizing that Jamie Fox leaves Jennifer Hudson for Beyonce. Bastard.

*Speaking of Jennifer Hudson, have you heard that Ellen is going to be the new judge on American Idol? I was heartbroken that there would be no more of Paul Abdul's (a.k.a my mom) insane antics, but Ellen may just make things okay. I'm the only one still watching that show, aren't I?

*Oh, and how classy was Beyonce at the MTV Music Video Awards? And Kanye West is such a tool. Alright, so I didn't actually watch the MTV awards because I'm old people and didn't even know it was on, but I read about it. On Facebook.

*Patrick Swayze, gone. Like the wind, through the trees. He's outta my reach! Oh, too soon? That's okay, because I loved, loved, love Dirty Dancing. I still watch it everytime it's on TV.

*I learned of Swayze's death on Facebook. Aparently, Facebook is now the place I go for news. Or at least celebrity based news. As if there is any other kind. Health care who? Serena say what?

*Okay, so Dreamgirls is only getting more and more depressing. I mean, Jennifer Hudson named her daughter Magic. That's just awful.

*So, as much as I complain about Oscar, he's actually be really awesome lately. He has been loving the hugs and kisses; talks in three, four, five word sentences and you can actually have a converstation with him; and he is generally a lot of fun. When he's not completely wrecking the house, knocking down his brother, and totally freaking out about an urgent need for juice/fruities/outside. It's like 50-50, awesome-insane. Well, 40-60.

*I bathed both children in one tub by myself last night. Everyone survived, no one cried, and it was over in ten minutes. This is what success looks like, people. I rule.

*Writing yesterday's blog post was really cathartic, as was reading all of your comments. I'm glad we're in the trenches together.

What I Want

I want Oscar to eat his lunch.

I want Miles to love lentils.

I want to not snag my bag/shirt/arm on the doorknob every time I exit a room.

I want Nebo to not bark to come inside the second I sit down.

I want to laundry to do itself. Ditto the dishes.

I want Miles to sleep through the night.

I want the universe to cut my mom a break.

I want Nelson to not have to go to TX for a week.

I want Oscar to stop ramming my heels with his wooden fire truck.

I want eating six cupcakes to not make me fat.

I want to not want to eat six cupcakes.

I want to watch something other than the Incredibles.

I want to pay off all my debt.

I want Miles to stop waking up the second my head hits the pillow.

I want to be able to procure ice cubes from the freezer without dropping one onto the floor into an unreachable location.

I want Oscar to stop stomping on my feet when I breast feed Miles.

I want Miles to sleep in his own bed.

I want to go to the store without discovering that I'm covered in food/dirt/vomit/poop the second I get there.

I want this giant zit on my face to go away.

I want to sleep until 10AM.

I want to freeze time.

I want to speed up time.

I want to sleep for eight consecutive hours at night.

I want a good babysitter.

I want a flat stomach.

I want Oscar to stop drawing on the walls.

I want Miles to get that out of his mouth.

I want Nelson to call when he's going to be late.

I want my dogs to stop barking at my neighbors.

I want people to stop speeding on my street.

I want Oscar to stop standing in front of the pantry/refrigerator/door when I need to use it.

I want to stop tripping on toys.

I want that light bulb not to blow out.

I want the paper towel roll to be full.

I want my dogs to stop shedding.

I want Oscar to poop in the potty.

I want Miles' eczema to clear up.

I want to stop saying "No" all the time.

I want to read a book, cover to cover, with no interruptions.

I want to get home from the store will all of my purchases, instead of forgetting a bag at the register.

I want my kids to nap at the same time.

I want to milk to not be bad the day after I buy it and the bread to stay fresh all week.

I want things to be easy, for just one day.

What do you want?

Thursday, September 10, 2009

The Napping Sitch

Let me just start by saying SIGH.

SIGH.

The nappage is not going so well around these parts. Miles is sort of settling into a routine (two times a day; 1-2 hours each nap), but not terribly regular. Sometimes it will be just one nap, or the naps will only be 30 minutes long. It's tough, but I can deal with that. He's an infant; he will likely develop a regular pattern by the end of his ninth month (next month, GAH!). It'll be fine.

Oscar is a completely different story. Oh, Oscar. I'm looking at him right now, passed out on the couch in the living room from sheer exhaustion. He hasn't napped for four days. Poor guy.

Before anyone tries to tell me maybe he's through napping, please see above. The child needs to nap. He's just a smidgen over two. Prior to the last month or so, he went down like a rock at 11AM for three hours. THREE HOURS.

Until he was about 15 months, Oscar took two naps a day, one from 9-11:30/ and one from 2-4. There was some serious nappage going on around here. They were hard fought at first, but once he hit around nine months, he went down like a dream.

Then, he dropped his afternoon nap. My understanding is that most kids drop their morning nap first, but not Oscar. I tried to move his one nap later in the day, but he wouldn't have it.

So, since about 16 months, he's been sleeping 11-2 pretty much every single day. A great napper. A championship napper.

Until about a month ago. I'm not sure what happened. He just decided NO. When I put him down, he rages. I mean, screams his flipping guts out. Like shrieking and sobbing and flailing around and throwing his bunny and blankie from the crib and howling. "MOMMA HOLD YOU! I ALL DONE MOMMA! I ALL DONE NAP! I FINISHED! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! IEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WAAAAAAAAAA! OPEN DOOR! I NEED DOOR OPEN! I NEED DOWNSTAIRS! MOMMY! MOMMY!"

For an hour. And then I go and get him and we continue about our day. At first I though he was saying he's finished with his current nap. Now I'm beginning to think he's indicating that he's through with the entire actuality of napping. Can that be?

And he's just sucky after no nap. He often refuses dinner, tantrums at bath time, shoves his brother, tries to bite me when I intervene. He's like a completely different kid. I want my sweet, funny boy back.

About every third or fourth day, he'll nap out of sheer exhaustion (like today.)

I am at a loss, internets, a total loss. I've tried everything. Moving nap time later; moving bed time later; moving bed time earlier; lunch before nap; lunch after nap; reading before nap; CIO for an hour; just letting him not nap; letting him fall asleep in front of the TV; laying down with him; adjusting the temperature in his room up and down. None of it is working.

So I'm calling on you, oh wise ones. What do you do to get your toddlers to nap? I'm out of solutions and I'm running out of patience. Oh, wait, I AM out of patience. Suggestions needed. Please. Help. Me.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

You Carry it Well

If I told you how much I weighed (which I am NOT going to do), you'd most likely be shocked. I am one of the golden, one of those who Carries my Weight Well.

I don't really know why this is. I think it's because of the natural shape of my body. I have always had an hourglass figure, no matter what I weighed (except when I was pregnant, of course.) I have large breasts; curvy hips; a full bottom; and a short, well-defined waist. When I put on weight, I do it uniformly so even though I'm bigger I still look proportional. So, yeah, I have a big butt, but I have the big boobs to off set it.

For the most part, I've always liked my figure. I know it's not every one's cup of tea, but I made peace with myself and my body a long time ago. I'm okay with the lumps and the softness and all the curves. It suits me. This weight loss journey has never been about getting thin for me; it's about taking care of myself and my body so I can keep up with my kids and live a long, healthy life.

Having two kids in less than two year killed my body. KILLED IT. Yes, I still have the curves, but they hang a bit lower. I have to put in a effort to make sure all my bits are in their upright and locked positions, if you catch my drift.

Then, there is my middle. My tummy has never been rock hard, even when I was doing 200 crunches a day. I'm soft and always have been. But after my two pregnancies, that softness turned into this mushy, pliable bread dough. So not cute. I hate it. I really, really do. That bread dough has shattered my peace and I'm mad about it.

It looks awful. It's like a permanent muffin top. It makes me look sloppy and not put together and I've really had a hard time reconciling myself to this new addition to my body. Yes, I have stretch marks and sagging boobs. I've carried two large babies to term; these things are par for the course. Badges of honor, even. But my lumpy, bread dough tummy? Yuck!

Yesterday, I put on my favorite pair of jeans for the first time in months. More than months. I don't think I'd worn them since before becoming pregnant with Miles, and they were snug then. When I put them on yesterday, they fit better then they ever had. I threw on a T-shirt and went about my day.

At some point, I caught sight of my reflection in the kitchen window. It was my profile. And I couldn't see the bread dough that normally screws up the figure I so enjoy. I stood up a little straighter and looked again. I looked good. Like va-va-voom good.

I did a few turns, admired myself from multiple angles. There was no doubt about it - I was definitely looking more like my old self. Curvy and soft, but not lumpy and mushy. The bread dough is still there, but it is noticeably smaller.

When Nelson got home he remarked how great I looked (in jeans and a T-shirt!) confirming what I thought. My body is changing. I'm getting it back. And while I still have a long way to go, I feel good.

I can do this. I am doing this.

Down 36 pounds with 50-some to go.

Want to learn more about Club HASAY? Go here.

Monday, September 7, 2009

How to Successfully Road Trip with Two Small Children

Alternate Title: How to Unsuccessfully Road Trip with Two Small Children

Road trip! Road trip! Who's excited about eight hours in a car with two small children?

A recipe for disaster says you? Ah, but not if you are PREPARED!

Once you've finished your regular vacation packing (don't forget 14,000 extra outfits for the baby, which he will not need. Unless you don't pack them. Then he will need THEM ALL), it's time to pack for the trip.
  • You will need to pack a snack pack - a knapsack or backpack filled with you child's favorite juices, snacks, and water. Stock it full of fruit bars, pretzels, graham crackers, goldfish, cookies, apple juice, etc. Also throw in a few "special" snacks, like mini chocolate bars or Hersey Kisses. Something they don't often get. Don't forget to stash an extra pack of wipes in there.
  • You will also need a full diaper bag with for or five diapers and a full change of clothes for each kid, a full pack of wipes, and a stocked first aid kit.
  • You're going to want to pack a toy bag with small toys for each kid. Include favorites and a couple of new ones, for when things get hairy.
  • If you have it, a portable DVD player and favorite DVDs. This may save your life.

Wow, now doesn't that sound amazing? I mean, LOOK at all that STUFF. What could go wrong?

  • Children refuse any an all snacks by grinding them into dust and/or throwing them on the floor, demanding FRENCH FRIES! FRENCH FRIES! ad nauseum.
  • None of the bathrooms you stop at has a baby changing station. NOT ONE. They are also likely covered in flith, flam, FILTH.
  • Toys you pack SUCK and are unceremoniously thrown at parents and/or siblings heads.
  • After 30 minutes of one move, demands will be made for a NEW MOVIE. This will happen every 30 minutes into eternity.
  • Long legged toddler makes a game of kicking the back of the driver's seat. Again, into eternity.
  • Infant cries for 40 minutes, sleeps for an hour, cries for 40 minutes, ETERNITY. In the even the baby cries for LESS than 40 minutes, you can be sure your toddler will start wailing to get things going again.
  • Crying. In stereo.

As long as everyone arrives at your destination and no more than three (3) Band Aids were used, your trip is considered a SUCCESS!

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Babies Don't Understand the Meaning of "Vacation"

Here we are at the beach, the glorious beach. This is full day three and the weather has been fantastic. Yesterday it was in the 80s, breezy, low humidity, a perfect day for the beach. The boys played in the sand, Nelson swam in the surf, we took a dip in the pool, perfect.

And day one? Oh, so great. Miles took an AM nap while I lounged at the pool and read a real book. Nelson and Oscar were collecting shells on the beach. It's really been so lovely.

During the day. At night is a completely different story.

I remember the days when vacations were for sleeping. Naps and sleeping in and dozing by the pool. Miles, unfortunately, thinks that after 11pm, he needs to wake every hour on the hour until 7AM when he wakes for the day. Oscar has been a little better. A little. He was up until 11PM, popping out of the pack-n-play and onto our bed, sticking his feet into our face, generally being a jerk.

In short, I'm exhausted. It seems every time I close my eyes, Miles screeches, so I can't even get a good nap in.

But, exhausted at the beach is still at the beach so I'll take it.