Confessions From A Forty Something Postpartum Mom-Four Month Sleep Regression Edition

Good morning, y’all. Last week I decided to start a new blog series, more about me than the boys, really. I mean, I’ve tended to write from my perspective about the kids, because what other perspective could I take, but we’ve reached an age that it’s becoming harder and harder to share stuff with y’all. So, here we are. Stuck with me. I’m calling it #CoffeeAndConfessions.

Last week I talked (bragged) about self care. How I was getting up. Getting dressed. Putting on shoes. Apparently it’s as dangerous to blog about that as it is to say, “my kid will never.” Today’s photos are evidence that today’s self care isn’t really following my plan. And that would be because of the #FourMonthSleepRegression.

#NotoriousVIG or the vampire is the big middle (beginning) of the four month sleep regression. The weird thing about having kids in different decades of your life (28, 30 and 41) is that the last one really is like having a first baby. Did you know that at 41 you are likely to have forgotten everything you knew about babies and the rules of having babies. Did you further know that what ever rules you did retain have changed? Crib bumpers? GONE! Lovey in the crib? GONE! Four month sleep regression? Pssssh. THAT never happened with #ThemBoys. A little about the four month sleep regression: 1. The baby’s brain is growing and changing, and they are sleeping more like an adult. They have actual sleep cycles and they are pissed about it. Sure, the first time they wake up at night they think it’s fun to talk and play with their hands and finally wail like someone set a bear trap in the crib. The subsequent times its straight to wailing. 2. This happens just as your baby is starting to “sleep through the night.” Did you know doctors say sleeping through the night is five hours. Did you know that at 41, after months of sleep deprivation, five hours in a row was a #GodSend? And then, they take. it. away. 3. After taking away this oasis of sleep, you know what else they take away? Napping. Someone won’t take a nap anymore unless a. she’s being held b. she’s being fed or c. she’s on a four hour car ride and the car remains at a constant 55 mph or greater.  4. The four month sleep regression is when you should start “sleep training” baby. (ahahahahahahahahaaha!) It is also a pretty good litmis test for if your baby is strong willed. Guess what! Mine is. Shock of all shocks. She’s not having any of this sleep training BS. She’s like “Nah, I’m good. Thanks. You can just hold me or keep nursing every half hour thinking I’ll stay asleep.” and then, she whispers something about me being a human pacifier. I don’t know. It’s weird.

Speaking of weird. I know I said I wasn’t writing about the boys as much, but how can I not share the two completely opposite ends of parenting I’m at. WeeOne gets in the car and starts talking. Below is an exact transcript.

WO: A kid got ISS (In School Suspension) today.

Me: What did he do?

WO: Not do. SAY!

Me: Okaaaaay. What did he say?????

WO: Can I spell it?

Me: Thinking: holy crap. This is BAAAAD. Saying, “Yes.”

WO: Spelling. B-O-N-E-R**

Big erupts in fits of giggles. Then I start to giggle because Big’s giggle is infectious, y’all.

Me: Composes self. Do you know what that word means?

Both at once, Big still giggling. No, what?

Me: Deep breath. Erection. It means erection.

Both at once: oh. Okay.

WeeOne: Can we change the subject, please?

**We have a deal with the boys that if they ever don’t know what a word means they can ask us without fear of consequences. I don’t want them googling things at school or walking around thinking the wrong thing.

So, see, #LifeIsWeird. I’ve got four month sleep regression and boner talk. How is this craziness my life? Okay, ssssshhhhh. I’ve got 15 minutes before the girl is going to wake up and be the boss of me. I’m going to go to the bathroom. No one tell her.

See you next week.

Xo K




Confessions of a 40-Something Postpartum Mom

Hi. You may not know me. I’m Kristi. I’m a 40-Something mom to two boys who I call Big (13, Autism, ADHD, Anxiety, Cleft Lip and Palate, and Profoundly Gifted. Oh. And Lazy) and Wee One (11, NTish, Self-Proclaimed Nerd, Control Freak, and my Big Headed Baby.) Because life seemed to be running too smoothly, husband and I decided (no we didn’t. That would imply we make decisions rather than letting things happen to us.) to have a baby at 40 something.  We call her #NotoriousVIG; she’s 15 weeks old and counting.

Last school year I went back to work full time for the first time in 13 years. I was a pre-k teacher at a small, local, private school. I loved my job, but there must have been something in the water over there. Two of us “geriatric” moms got pregnant. It wasn’t on purpose, but man, was it the best thing that could have happened for our little family.  But here I am. BACK at home. With an infant. And postpartum hair loss, not quite sure if my hot flashes are from my hormones trying to balance back out, or if I’m starting peri-menopause.

So, here’s my first “confession” to you all:  I feel my anxiety and depression creeping in. Don’t worry, I know the signs, so I’m taking the steps I need to take to help myself. Mostly, through self care. I’m already back to my pre-baby weight. Want to know my secret? I was short and fat to begin with. It’s not hard to bounce back when your shape was round to start. This weeks goal is to get dressed every morning. I don’t mean keep wearing my same ol yoga pants I wore all last week, not that theres anything wrong with that. Here’s what I’m doing, if you’re interested. At the five am feed, I change and feed the vampire, set her in her swing to nap while I pack lunches, make breakfasts and wake all the mens. Then, now this is some sort of far out concept, are you ready? I get dressed. Like pants, a fresh bra and tank top, shirt and cardigan (that’s my mom uniform).  I have curly hair, so I don’t wash it everyday. I’m down to twice a week (okay, once). Today is day three hair, so I combed through after spraying my refresh spray. I don’t do make up during the week if we aren’t going anywhere, because lets face it, I’m not taking that much care of myself. I can’t count on myself to wash my face at the end of the day. Today, I even put. on. shoes. #fancypants I know it’s not a lot, but it’s a start, and it makes me feel better.

I’ve gotten all my dishes done, started laundry, swept, and now I’ve even carved out twenty minutes to do my confession, which has led to my second confession. I went to add a pic of myself to this post and my face shine was reflecting so badly that I had to add loose powder and a gloss. So, look at me, I am wearing make up on a Tuesday. #doublefancypants  Maybe, we’ll start meeting up like this on Tuesdays for #coffeeAndConfessions? Do you have a confession you’d like to share?

Photo on 2-20-18 at 8.05 AM

Evidence that I got dressed and “fixed” my untamable hair.  Also, this is the thick pregnancy mane that I will be envious of after the shedding stops. #NoFilter