Tag: Life

parenting

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

autisminourhouse

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

 

 

Uncategorized

Boys And Loss And Compassion

autisminourhouse

I originally wrote this piece over two and a half years ago on July 29, 2012.  At the time, I believed Big struggled with empathy…It turns out, not only does he NOT struggle with empathy, he may feel more than most.

A week ago today, my cousin’s wife lost her battle with breast cancer. Although, she is in heaven now, I don’t actually feel she lost at all. She fought bravely, with grace, courage and beauty. She maintained her faith throughout, and was strong for everyone else. Kathy showed us all what it means to have family and friends in our lives. She lived her life up until the very end. When I got “the phone call” the wind was knocked out of my sails to say the least. I was devastated for Chandon, auntie Mary Jo, Taylor, Taylor’s babe and Kathy’s family and friends. I cried. And cried.

The eldest has trouble with empathy. He loves his family so much that I often forget. He struggled to understand why I would be so upset. After all, we didn’t see them often. I explained my grief the best I could and went about the business of packing our bags to make the drive to say our final good byes.

On the day of the visitation, I talked again to the boys about what was not appropriate. When we arrived, Chandon was greeting people. Accepting hugs, “I love you(s),” and condolences. The eldest, of his own accord, walked up to this cowboy in his starched white shirt and “pink for gray” bracelet, who is more a brother to me than a cousin, and hugged him tight. Joe looked him in the eye and said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”. One single tear trailed down this brave cowboy’s face. He bent down to reply, but couldn’t. Later after the funeral, as we all gathered at Kathy’s sisters, Chandon said he wanted to say something to Joe, but the words were stuck in his throat.

As we were driving home yesterday from my dad’s Joe asked why there had to be cancer in the world. I said, “Baby, I just don’t know.”. My youngest babe says, “Taylor’s baby still has her grandma.”. I say, “No, baby, her grandma is in heaven.”. Chet says, “No, mama. I mean just like we all have Jesus with us always, the baby will have her grandma with her always.”. What you have to know is that we are not a particularly religious family. We (sometimes) make it to Christmas eve and maybe (ok rarely) Easter services. We tend to find God when we are with our family, or fishing, or at the beach, or in the company of our friends…Chet’s had three school years of once weekly chapel that must have really sunken in.

I’m so very proud of my boys for really grasping the important things in life. Sometimes, it takes five and a half and seven and a half year old boys to show grownups how to travel through this inevitable part of life…loss.

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