here's a new refashion.
and i owe a big old post telling you what i've been doing for the past few weeks since i obviously haven't been spending a lot of time posting here. it will include thrilling tales of ozzie dogs, naked backhoeing, ice cream, king diamond cover bands, and toddler beer pong.
in the meantime, here's this:
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
pass the kleenex
i have spent the last three days crying.
saturday and sunday, i was consumed by the new h.p., and basically wept right through it. but that's not a spoiler! it wasn't all sad crying—some of it was happy crying, and most of it was just "dear god i've known these people for almost 10 years i can't take any more ups and downs and highs and lows and i am emotionally drained !" (i'm halfway through my second reading now, much less crying.)
then this afternoon wile and i had to cry together for a little while. he's still not napping yet still really needing the nap, and sometimes the afternoons get a little hairy. today gwen was here for a few hours, which was mostly fantastic. they laughed their heads off at everything, and were really sweet with each other—gwen patted wile's head when he bonked his knee, he always asked her if she was okay when she fell down. they also invented a new game, when wile was naked after he escaped me mid-diaper change, in which gwen would chase him around the house then tackle him onto his bed and tickle him in his happy zone, which she told me was called "tic tac toe penis." i cannot make this shit up.
anyway, the highest highs are, of course, ususally followed by the lowest lows, so by the time mona came to get gwen, wile was teetering on the brink of meltdown, and then jumped right over the edge. he wanted to read a book, but didn't want gwen touching it, which he told us all about very very loudly. so i told him we would wait till they left, but that wasn't the right answer. so i left him on the couch screeching while i said goodbye to mona and gwen, then had him yell for at least ten minutes about how he did not want me to say goodbye to them, how i should never do that again. i tried to take him upstairs to calm down, but he couldn't. and that's what he told me: "i can't stop crying!" that's when i started crying. partially because we were on minute 30 of screaming crying now and it was wearing on my nerves, and partially because i know all too well the feeling of not being able to stop crying from my intense pms days, and it's fairly awful, and hard enough to deal with when you're 20, but must be even harder and scary when you're 3. so i suggested we lie down, but no. then he bit his tongue and insisted that i put boo-boo cream on it. i told him that we didn't have any boo-boo cream that could go in his mouth. he told me we did, and that if i'd carry him into the bathroom he'd show it to me. okay. so when i opened the bathroom cabinet and he didn't find what he had imagined might be there, it took the crying to a new level.
finally he quieted down to the point where i could suggest food, and thankfully he said yes to that. then he wanted a bun. okay. i took one out of the freezer, and he started crying again. he didn't want it cold. could i put it in the microwave? no. toaster? no. what he wanted, and i quote, was "a bun from the warm frigerator!" the what now? apparently he would like us to have a refrigerator that keeps food warm, not cold. because he doesn't want food cold. he wants food warm. we spent a good 10 minutes on that one. i'm still not sure that i have him convinced that there's no such thing as a "warm refrigerator", but i think i at least convinced him that we don't own one.
he let me microwave-defrost the bun, ate it, then told me that he wanted to go upstairs and lie down. alright, then! we went up, he got into his bed. he asked me for his train to play with, i gave it to him but told him he had to stay in bed. he said fine. i told him to call me if he needed anything, and walked out of his room. he called, "see you later, mama!" half an hour later, around 5, he was asleep. here's hoping he doesn't wake up till morning.
i think i should be done crying for the week, though. the only thing i have on my schedule for the next few days is a few mets games, and as we all know.....
saturday and sunday, i was consumed by the new h.p., and basically wept right through it. but that's not a spoiler! it wasn't all sad crying—some of it was happy crying, and most of it was just "dear god i've known these people for almost 10 years i can't take any more ups and downs and highs and lows and i am emotionally drained !" (i'm halfway through my second reading now, much less crying.)
then this afternoon wile and i had to cry together for a little while. he's still not napping yet still really needing the nap, and sometimes the afternoons get a little hairy. today gwen was here for a few hours, which was mostly fantastic. they laughed their heads off at everything, and were really sweet with each other—gwen patted wile's head when he bonked his knee, he always asked her if she was okay when she fell down. they also invented a new game, when wile was naked after he escaped me mid-diaper change, in which gwen would chase him around the house then tackle him onto his bed and tickle him in his happy zone, which she told me was called "tic tac toe penis." i cannot make this shit up.
anyway, the highest highs are, of course, ususally followed by the lowest lows, so by the time mona came to get gwen, wile was teetering on the brink of meltdown, and then jumped right over the edge. he wanted to read a book, but didn't want gwen touching it, which he told us all about very very loudly. so i told him we would wait till they left, but that wasn't the right answer. so i left him on the couch screeching while i said goodbye to mona and gwen, then had him yell for at least ten minutes about how he did not want me to say goodbye to them, how i should never do that again. i tried to take him upstairs to calm down, but he couldn't. and that's what he told me: "i can't stop crying!" that's when i started crying. partially because we were on minute 30 of screaming crying now and it was wearing on my nerves, and partially because i know all too well the feeling of not being able to stop crying from my intense pms days, and it's fairly awful, and hard enough to deal with when you're 20, but must be even harder and scary when you're 3. so i suggested we lie down, but no. then he bit his tongue and insisted that i put boo-boo cream on it. i told him that we didn't have any boo-boo cream that could go in his mouth. he told me we did, and that if i'd carry him into the bathroom he'd show it to me. okay. so when i opened the bathroom cabinet and he didn't find what he had imagined might be there, it took the crying to a new level.
finally he quieted down to the point where i could suggest food, and thankfully he said yes to that. then he wanted a bun. okay. i took one out of the freezer, and he started crying again. he didn't want it cold. could i put it in the microwave? no. toaster? no. what he wanted, and i quote, was "a bun from the warm frigerator!" the what now? apparently he would like us to have a refrigerator that keeps food warm, not cold. because he doesn't want food cold. he wants food warm. we spent a good 10 minutes on that one. i'm still not sure that i have him convinced that there's no such thing as a "warm refrigerator", but i think i at least convinced him that we don't own one.
he let me microwave-defrost the bun, ate it, then told me that he wanted to go upstairs and lie down. alright, then! we went up, he got into his bed. he asked me for his train to play with, i gave it to him but told him he had to stay in bed. he said fine. i told him to call me if he needed anything, and walked out of his room. he called, "see you later, mama!" half an hour later, around 5, he was asleep. here's hoping he doesn't wake up till morning.
i think i should be done crying for the week, though. the only thing i have on my schedule for the next few days is a few mets games, and as we all know.....
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
the way life should be
so as all parents know, vacation with a toddler isn't really a relaxing break. it's kinda like life lived in extremes. you get the very very good—seeing best friends! going to the beach! lobster and steamers and whoopie pie! four square! fun wedding!—alongside the very very bad—off schedule! sleeping in odd places! subsequent screaming fits!
i'm kinda braindead from the 95˚ and the hunidity, so i'll just hit you with the highlights:
going electric
ocean with jess
fried clams
lobsters
the world's biggest lobster bib
naked in echo lake
digging (what, you thought there'd be no digging?)
brunch
acadia
and, we're done.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
another old shirt rescued!
the permalink to my latest post on wardrobe refashion is all fuckered up for some reason, so in a departure from my usual refashion m.o., to save you from having to scroll through wardrobe refashion looking for my post, i'm just posting it here:
this was part of my college uniform:
not only is it ridiculously big (as all of my clothes were back then), it has developed some issues in the back....
.....and so has since been relegated to the pajama drawer (or, more accurately, one of the pajama drawers. i have a few pajama/loungewear drawers. some of my friends find this odd). but i never wore it, because i was afraid it was just going to keep ripping and fall apart. so, clearly, it was time to take it apart myself.
i started by removing the sleeves, then cutting across the back at the spot of the enourmous gaping hole, leaving me with this:
then i cut down the sides, making two pieces, and slit the part of the back that was attached to the front down the middle, comme ca:
i decided that those two pieces coming off the top of the front piece would become straps, so i trimmed them a bit to make them slimmer and hemmed the edges. i also turned the neckband under in the front and stitched it down to make a uniform hem all around.
then i put it all together: pinned the side seams (which, since i don't have a dress form yet, involved pinning the front piece of the shirt to my bra to keep it still while i held the back piece in place) and sewed them up, hemmed the top of the back piece, attached the straps to the back, and hemmed the front piece— which had ended up longer than the back—at the bottom. and this is what i got:
putting it on, i realized that the part where i had hemmed under the existing neckband stuck out....
...and i was going to fix it by turning it under one more time and re-hemming, but then i realized that i liked it the way it was.
the finished product definitely retained some of the pinholes and frayed edges of the original shirt, and i'm glad it did.
off to maine on vacation, more when i return!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
it is unwise to get only 5 hours of sleep before taking a 2-year old and an 8-year old to the natural history museum because
maybe you'll not have the energy or mental stamina for the "i don't want to wear paaaaaaaants" argument the preceeds leaving the house and end up stuffing the 2-year old in the shorts and carrying his screaming ass to the subway station.
maybe you'll give a total parker-posey-in-dazed-and-confused bitchface to the 12-year old who snottily tells you that the reason the bell rang in the elevator was because you were holding down the "door open" button for too long.
maybe you'll give a slight hip-check to the pushy tourist who tries to bustle past you on your way out of the elevator.
maybe you'll not-so-silently curse out the stupid euro-tourists who walk up the stairways like they had specially reserved them for their own private use instead of staying to the goddamn right, goddamn it.
maybe you'll need to go to bed at 9:30. good night.
maybe you'll give a total parker-posey-in-dazed-and-confused bitchface to the 12-year old who snottily tells you that the reason the bell rang in the elevator was because you were holding down the "door open" button for too long.
maybe you'll give a slight hip-check to the pushy tourist who tries to bustle past you on your way out of the elevator.
maybe you'll not-so-silently curse out the stupid euro-tourists who walk up the stairways like they had specially reserved them for their own private use instead of staying to the goddamn right, goddamn it.
maybe you'll need to go to bed at 9:30. good night.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
not really grasping the concept
"mama, you pick out my clothes."
"really?"
"yeah!"
"okay. [walk to dresser. choose shirt and pants] here you —"
"no! not pick those pants! pick the other ones!"
"really?"
"yeah!"
"okay. [walk to dresser. choose shirt and pants] here you —"
"no! not pick those pants! pick the other ones!"
Thursday, June 07, 2007
why i love ebay
i just bought this for $4.99:
will you look at that? those shorts!! vintage 1985. it's a size 6 months, so obviously not for wile. first met fan to have a baby gets it.
will you look at that? those shorts!! vintage 1985. it's a size 6 months, so obviously not for wile. first met fan to have a baby gets it.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
naaaaaaaap!
that's right, two days straight. yes, i would like a high-five. thank you. ow, not so hard.
during the glorious time of the sleeping baby, i put a new post up on wardrobe refashion.
naaaaaaaaaaap!
sorry, i'm a little delerious.
here, have a picture of wile and gwen eating lunch at the queens farm museum earlier today:
and the insane-o rooster we saw:
during the glorious time of the sleeping baby, i put a new post up on wardrobe refashion.
naaaaaaaaaaap!
sorry, i'm a little delerious.
here, have a picture of wile and gwen eating lunch at the queens farm museum earlier today:
and the insane-o rooster we saw:
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
what is this "flow" i'm supposed to be going with?
all of this non-napping sleep insanity has made me realize how far i've come in terms of dealing with the two-year-old behavior ("behavior" is a nicer word that "bullshit", right?). i can roll with whatever he throws at me now. and i can look back at the past few months and see how hard it has been for me to deal with this transition to the 2-y.o. state of being. which is totally understandable—i mean, how would you like it if 50% of everything you said was met with a resounding "no!"?? plus the whining. oh my god the whining. and as i've mentioned before, the constant negotiation. and the iron-clad refusal to give in to reality. example, from bedtime last night:
"wile, you always fall asleep by yourself"
"no! i dooooon't! i don't!"
it has taken me a few months to learn to just say "okay! but tonight you are."
so the fact that i have been able to deal with this whole not-napping-totally-unpredictable- schedule-that-leads-to-frequent-decents-into-inconsolability-and-insanity development without losing my shit or just walking out of the house and telling trucky and lulu to call me if anything bad happens makes me feel....pretty damn good. i've reached a place of toddler-parent zen. you know, not every second of every day, but most of the time. and this is fairly amazing not only in itself but also as a component of my personality as a whole. i am not very zen about anything. i like—okay, fine, honesty: need—to control things. the fact that i can let go a little and adapt to a wholly new set of variables every day is unprecedented.
so what has he been throwing at us lately? let's see:
thursday, aunt susie was visiting. around 2:30, we were on our way into the backyard to dig and he told me he was tired. i asked did he want to nap now? no, soon. okay, soon. around 2:45, i told him 5 minutes to play. "no no no mama i want to dig more!" it was too hot to fight. i told him now or never. the answer was never. so in my new zen state, i decided not to force the square peg into the round hole and just said fine, no nap! onward! so we dug, then went to the park. headed home around 5:45, started making dinner. he said he was hungry, and took his place at at the table and asked me what was for dinner.i told him fish. "what kind fish?" tilapia! thus began the battle cry: "no, i want salmon! i want salmon!" repeated at varying degrees of whining, wheedling, pleading, and desperation until he literally sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and nearly fell asleep, all "i want salmmmmmzxxxzz". i scooped him up and took him to bed. he was nearly asleep when he asked for pajamas. i got him some ones he hadn't ever worn before, with appliqued gators on the shirt. "mama, look—there a yellow one, a blue one, and a gray one." i say: "actually that's more like tan than gray." what the hell was i thinking? shut up, pantone girl! the chin started wobbling, the eyes welled up with tears: "i not like that color! mama, take that bottom gator off! take it off!!" ten minutes later, i was coloring in the f-ing grey/tan gator with a red sharpie. then he said "where that gator's face? mama, i not want the gator's face at that side! i want it over here!" something in my tone thankfully convinced him that i didn't have a magic sharpie in my bag that was going to make that happen. i sang no songs (the tradeoff for the sharpie), he fell asleep. at 7 o'clock. that's an hour and a hlf earlier than normal.
that was definitely the worst day lately. saturady he went to the mets game with stephen and iden + luella and jake and pulled another marathon session—fell asleep in the car on the way home from the game around 4 and slept till 6am. sunday there was no nap, and bedtime was peaceful because our friend courtney (hi courtney!) was visiting from colorado and wile was too excited to have her here to have any freakouts. but yesterday he woke up in a hellacious mood. thankfully, he asked for some ba-boo around 10, so i gave him some and he passed out till 11:45.
and today? today we had a long talk about naps and school and how at school you have to participate in naptime and how naps make you feel good and happy and then we have more fun together and blah blah throwing every sales tactic in the book at him and, though his mouth was still forming the words "i don't want to take a nap" as his head hit the pillow, he! is! asleep! asleeeeeeeeeeeeep!
wanna take bets on whether he'll wake up in two hours or tomorrow morning?
"wile, you always fall asleep by yourself"
"no! i dooooon't! i don't!"
it has taken me a few months to learn to just say "okay! but tonight you are."
so the fact that i have been able to deal with this whole not-napping-totally-unpredictable- schedule-that-leads-to-frequent-decents-into-inconsolability-and-insanity development without losing my shit or just walking out of the house and telling trucky and lulu to call me if anything bad happens makes me feel....pretty damn good. i've reached a place of toddler-parent zen. you know, not every second of every day, but most of the time. and this is fairly amazing not only in itself but also as a component of my personality as a whole. i am not very zen about anything. i like—okay, fine, honesty: need—to control things. the fact that i can let go a little and adapt to a wholly new set of variables every day is unprecedented.
so what has he been throwing at us lately? let's see:
thursday, aunt susie was visiting. around 2:30, we were on our way into the backyard to dig and he told me he was tired. i asked did he want to nap now? no, soon. okay, soon. around 2:45, i told him 5 minutes to play. "no no no mama i want to dig more!" it was too hot to fight. i told him now or never. the answer was never. so in my new zen state, i decided not to force the square peg into the round hole and just said fine, no nap! onward! so we dug, then went to the park. headed home around 5:45, started making dinner. he said he was hungry, and took his place at at the table and asked me what was for dinner.i told him fish. "what kind fish?" tilapia! thus began the battle cry: "no, i want salmon! i want salmon!" repeated at varying degrees of whining, wheedling, pleading, and desperation until he literally sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and nearly fell asleep, all "i want salmmmmmzxxxzz". i scooped him up and took him to bed. he was nearly asleep when he asked for pajamas. i got him some ones he hadn't ever worn before, with appliqued gators on the shirt. "mama, look—there a yellow one, a blue one, and a gray one." i say: "actually that's more like tan than gray." what the hell was i thinking? shut up, pantone girl! the chin started wobbling, the eyes welled up with tears: "i not like that color! mama, take that bottom gator off! take it off!!" ten minutes later, i was coloring in the f-ing grey/tan gator with a red sharpie. then he said "where that gator's face? mama, i not want the gator's face at that side! i want it over here!" something in my tone thankfully convinced him that i didn't have a magic sharpie in my bag that was going to make that happen. i sang no songs (the tradeoff for the sharpie), he fell asleep. at 7 o'clock. that's an hour and a hlf earlier than normal.
that was definitely the worst day lately. saturady he went to the mets game with stephen and iden + luella and jake and pulled another marathon session—fell asleep in the car on the way home from the game around 4 and slept till 6am. sunday there was no nap, and bedtime was peaceful because our friend courtney (hi courtney!) was visiting from colorado and wile was too excited to have her here to have any freakouts. but yesterday he woke up in a hellacious mood. thankfully, he asked for some ba-boo around 10, so i gave him some and he passed out till 11:45.
and today? today we had a long talk about naps and school and how at school you have to participate in naptime and how naps make you feel good and happy and then we have more fun together and blah blah throwing every sales tactic in the book at him and, though his mouth was still forming the words "i don't want to take a nap" as his head hit the pillow, he! is! asleep! asleeeeeeeeeeeeep!
wanna take bets on whether he'll wake up in two hours or tomorrow morning?
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Thursday, May 31, 2007
on my honor...
"i pledge that i shall abstain from the purchase of 'new' manufactured items of clothing for the period of 6 months. i pledge that i shall refashion, renovate, recycle preloved items for myself with my own hands in fabric, yarn, or other medium for the term of my contract. i pledge that i will share the love and post a photo of my refashioned, renovated, recycled, crafted, or created item of clothing on the wardobe refashion blog, so that others may share the joy!"
signed, hey mama.
i'll be posting on that there blog once a week, and i'll post the links to those posts here. oh look, here's the first one now! i think i babble a little bit....
signed, hey mama.
i'll be posting on that there blog once a week, and i'll post the links to those posts here. oh look, here's the first one now! i think i babble a little bit....
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
right back where we started from
maybe you recall, if you've been with us here at pookiellama since the beginning, that i used to talk about wile's sleeping a lot? specifically, that he really didn't like to do it? for the first year and a half, it was the defining issue of our lives. but we've been in such a good place with the sleeping for so long now that even though it hasn't been perfect—some early mornings, some ridiculously drawn-out good-night sessions in which i get called back in to the room to fix his blanket, put mets bear's hat back on, turn on the ceiling fan, find his water, take a booger off the tip of his finger, or some other important task—it hasn't been anywhere near traumatic enough to write about.
but now we've hit the next phase of sleep issues, and it's not pretty.
let me start at the very beginning (a very good place....). about two months ago, we found out that wile got in to our preschool of choice for the fall. which is totally exciting for many reasons, but that's another post. the thing about preschool that applies here and now is: it runs from 8:30 to 3:30. which means that they have naptime. and i will not be dropping by each day at that time to hit him with some ba-boo.
as i've mentioned, i've been afraid that the napping and the nursing were so tightly intertwined that if i tried to take away the nursing, the napping would follow, and that was a truly petrifying idea. but now, with preschool shimmering on the horizon, the time had come. so we started slow: we talked about school, and how awesome school is going to be, and that in order to take part in the awesomeness, he needed to get used to napping without falling asleep on the ba-boo. so we would sit up (instead of lying down) in bed and nurse for a short time, then i would lie down with him and we would snuggle* until he fell asleep.
and it worked! not only would he go down for a nap with me this way (after just 2 or 3 times with a little crying/lamenting the loss of the ba-boo), but both stephen and his mom were able to put him down with just snuggling! and then....oh my holy crap, and then.....he stopped asking for the ba-boo, and i could put him down with just snuggling. and he was still sleeping well at night, if waking up a little earlier than usual. it was a golden age, those two weeks or so.
then, of course, the crash. two weeks ago, we went up for nap, happy happy, changed the diaper, smile smile, and then: "mama, i not want to take a nap." oh no no no no no no no. no. i call bullshit. he insisted no. i insisted yes. he cried. i cried. i had to leave the room. i came back. he cried more. we snuggled. he finally went down.
we followed that pattern for 3 or 4 naptimes, until the day that he just wouldn't go down. no way, no how. less crying, more standing up and walking around the room. and what the hell was i going to do, stap him to the bed? so, no naps. and the night sleeping was definitely affected, with him giving us the same "i not want to sleep!" nonsense at bedtime, and waking up between 5 and 5:30, wide-eyed and clamoring for toast.
this non-napping has had some interesting side effects (aside from, you know, the gradual deterioration of my sanity). on friday we headed out to the met to see the paul poiret exhibit. at around 2, he told me he was ready to go home. i said okay, looked down two minutes later, and he was alseep in the stroller. he hasn't slept in the stroller in over a year, easy—he slept for 2 hours. then on saturday, he went down for a nap in his bed—unwillingly, unhappily, but he did it—at 3. he woke up at 9:15, ate a piece of toast, drank some water, and went back to sleep around 10 until around 6am. ooooookay! last night, he went down normal time (8:30) and slept until 8:15am. today there was no nap again, and by 6:30 he was definitely tired and cranky, and i whisked him through a quick dinner and had him alseep by 8.
so, clearly it's not that he no longer needs the naps. he just doesn't want them. still, i can't accept that we'll never nap again. because, dude. i can't hack it. for serious. what i've done in the last two days, after we've lay down and it becomes clear that the nap ain't going to happen, is insisted on "quiet time", in which he's allowed to play in his room, in a calm and orderly and independent fashion, while i semi-nap on the bed. so i've been able to catch up on a little rest, but haven't been able to get anything done or gotten any time to myself. which is going to wear reeeeeeealy thin after a few days.
actually i did get some time to myself today, between 7—when i woke up and couldn't believe that he wasn't up yet—and 8:15. and, granted, he was asleep by 8 tonight, which means that i have a couple of hours to get some things done now before exhaustion sets in and i'm too braindead to do anything but watch blake lewis videos on youtube. and i could handle this schedule, if i thought it would last. but, i don't. i'm too shell-shocked by all the recent 5am wake-ups. plus, it really cuts into our social life if we have to be home for dinner at 6:30 for bedtime at 7:15—in the summer, we're usually just wandering out of the park at 7!
so, sadly, i think this all proves my theory about the napping and the nursing. and i definitely felt, in the past few months, that by giving him the ba-boo at naptime i was kinda....drugging him. so what we're dealing with here, i guess, is withdrawl?
but i'm just as addicted to the nap, yo! i can make do with the early bed/late rise methadone, but really, i want the hard stuff.
*i have to describe wile's conception of "snuggling": he starts by burrowing in close to you, very sweet. then he takes his forehead and presses it against yours, also very sweet. for about 30 seconds. until he keeps pressing, harder. and harder, until it feels like he is trying to phase through you to the other side of the bed, if he....only....had.....the....power....
but now we've hit the next phase of sleep issues, and it's not pretty.
let me start at the very beginning (a very good place....). about two months ago, we found out that wile got in to our preschool of choice for the fall. which is totally exciting for many reasons, but that's another post. the thing about preschool that applies here and now is: it runs from 8:30 to 3:30. which means that they have naptime. and i will not be dropping by each day at that time to hit him with some ba-boo.
as i've mentioned, i've been afraid that the napping and the nursing were so tightly intertwined that if i tried to take away the nursing, the napping would follow, and that was a truly petrifying idea. but now, with preschool shimmering on the horizon, the time had come. so we started slow: we talked about school, and how awesome school is going to be, and that in order to take part in the awesomeness, he needed to get used to napping without falling asleep on the ba-boo. so we would sit up (instead of lying down) in bed and nurse for a short time, then i would lie down with him and we would snuggle* until he fell asleep.
and it worked! not only would he go down for a nap with me this way (after just 2 or 3 times with a little crying/lamenting the loss of the ba-boo), but both stephen and his mom were able to put him down with just snuggling! and then....oh my holy crap, and then.....he stopped asking for the ba-boo, and i could put him down with just snuggling. and he was still sleeping well at night, if waking up a little earlier than usual. it was a golden age, those two weeks or so.
then, of course, the crash. two weeks ago, we went up for nap, happy happy, changed the diaper, smile smile, and then: "mama, i not want to take a nap." oh no no no no no no no. no. i call bullshit. he insisted no. i insisted yes. he cried. i cried. i had to leave the room. i came back. he cried more. we snuggled. he finally went down.
we followed that pattern for 3 or 4 naptimes, until the day that he just wouldn't go down. no way, no how. less crying, more standing up and walking around the room. and what the hell was i going to do, stap him to the bed? so, no naps. and the night sleeping was definitely affected, with him giving us the same "i not want to sleep!" nonsense at bedtime, and waking up between 5 and 5:30, wide-eyed and clamoring for toast.
this non-napping has had some interesting side effects (aside from, you know, the gradual deterioration of my sanity). on friday we headed out to the met to see the paul poiret exhibit. at around 2, he told me he was ready to go home. i said okay, looked down two minutes later, and he was alseep in the stroller. he hasn't slept in the stroller in over a year, easy—he slept for 2 hours. then on saturday, he went down for a nap in his bed—unwillingly, unhappily, but he did it—at 3. he woke up at 9:15, ate a piece of toast, drank some water, and went back to sleep around 10 until around 6am. ooooookay! last night, he went down normal time (8:30) and slept until 8:15am. today there was no nap again, and by 6:30 he was definitely tired and cranky, and i whisked him through a quick dinner and had him alseep by 8.
so, clearly it's not that he no longer needs the naps. he just doesn't want them. still, i can't accept that we'll never nap again. because, dude. i can't hack it. for serious. what i've done in the last two days, after we've lay down and it becomes clear that the nap ain't going to happen, is insisted on "quiet time", in which he's allowed to play in his room, in a calm and orderly and independent fashion, while i semi-nap on the bed. so i've been able to catch up on a little rest, but haven't been able to get anything done or gotten any time to myself. which is going to wear reeeeeeealy thin after a few days.
actually i did get some time to myself today, between 7—when i woke up and couldn't believe that he wasn't up yet—and 8:15. and, granted, he was asleep by 8 tonight, which means that i have a couple of hours to get some things done now before exhaustion sets in and i'm too braindead to do anything but watch blake lewis videos on youtube. and i could handle this schedule, if i thought it would last. but, i don't. i'm too shell-shocked by all the recent 5am wake-ups. plus, it really cuts into our social life if we have to be home for dinner at 6:30 for bedtime at 7:15—in the summer, we're usually just wandering out of the park at 7!
so, sadly, i think this all proves my theory about the napping and the nursing. and i definitely felt, in the past few months, that by giving him the ba-boo at naptime i was kinda....drugging him. so what we're dealing with here, i guess, is withdrawl?
but i'm just as addicted to the nap, yo! i can make do with the early bed/late rise methadone, but really, i want the hard stuff.
*i have to describe wile's conception of "snuggling": he starts by burrowing in close to you, very sweet. then he takes his forehead and presses it against yours, also very sweet. for about 30 seconds. until he keeps pressing, harder. and harder, until it feels like he is trying to phase through you to the other side of the bed, if he....only....had.....the....power....
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
btietw
i am currently the kind of tired where my eye sockets are burning. wile was up at 5 this morning, carrying on, and we ended up downstairs making toast at 5:30. he, with that wise toddler intuition, asked to watch bob the builder after he ate his toast, so i got some sleep on the couch for a couple of hours (two bob episodes, one firetruck dvd, and some playing with his wooden food that i only know about because i woke up with wooden carrots and bread and apple slices strewn about my head), but it wasn't the good kind of sleep, it was the kind of sleep where i woke up feeling more exhausted than when i started. and now wile is napping, and i should be too, but i can't fall alseep. so, let's talk about food.
my favorite meal this week was the one i made on sunday night. yes, i made dinner on mother's day. the horror! except not, because 1) i like to cook, 2) stephen took wile into the yard to play baseball so i got to cook alone, which is a rare and beautiful thing these days, 3) stephen did the dishes, 4) i knew what i wanted and if stephen had insisted on making it just because "it's mother's day and mothers don't cook on mother's day" or some such nonsense, he would have had to ask me questions and checked in with me a bunch of times and it would have been not at all the "break" for me that it would seem, and 5) we had gone out to a great dinner the night before.
i made pork chops and a salad, which sounds pretty boring, no? except. i've discovered, thanks to cook's illustrated, the perfect way to cook pork chops. it's a little wacky, but you really honestly do end up with the juiciest pork chops ever. here's the deal:
take your pork chops (bone-in or bone-out, but bone-in is better; either way, try to get them at least 1" thick) and rub them all over with some vegetable oil, then salt and pepper them. on one side, sprinkle with a pinch of sugar. if there's a lot of fat on one edge, make a couple of cuts into it, just down to the meat, so that the chop doesn't curl up in the pan. then grab a non-stick pan and put it onto a cold burner. yes, cold. take the chops and put them in the pan sugar-side down, pressing them into the pan. (i've used two kinds of pans for this technique, a calphalon and a cast iron pan. with the calphalon, i found that i needed to put a little bit of oil into the pan, in addition to the oil that i rubbed on the chops, to keep then from sticking totally. with the cast iron pan, not so much. so, see how it goes with your pan.) turn the heat on under the pan to medium high, and don't go far away. the chops should start sizzling within 2 minutes; if they don't, turn the heat up. let them cook for somewhere between 2-1/2 and 7 minutes, until they're browned on the one side (that's why you put the sugar on, to help with the browning). then turn them over, turn the heat down to low, cover the pan, and find your meat thermometer. i usually start checking them after about 3 minutes, 2 minutes if they're on the thinner side—you want them to come up to 140˚ in the center. this could take up to 10 minutes, depending on your pan, what "low" means on your stove, the meat itself, etc etc. when they've reached temp, take them out and throw them on a plate, tented with aluminum foil.
then make a sauce in the pan. my favorite thing to do is saute some shallots in the residual pork fat, then throw in some brandy, let it cook down, and finish it with a tablespoon or so of butter. i've also made a good one with just a 1/2 cup of vegetable broth and a couple of teaspoons of mustard, boiled down a little bit. last night i wanted the brandy sauce but we were out of brandy and shallots, so i used some slices of garlic and medium-dry sherry instead, and it was delicious. when the sauce is made, turn off the heat and throw the chops back in the pan for a second the coat with the sauce and warm them up, and serve.
and for our salad, we had some baby swiss chard that i got from the crazy hydroponic organic people at the farmer's market. it was really tender but a little bit bitter, so i made a honey vinaigrette (1t honey, 1t mustard, 1t white vinegar, 1/3 cup walnut oil) to go with it. it was a great salad, much more interesting than any lettuce, but the best thing about it, and the reason that this was my favorite meal of last week, was that wile ate 7 helpings of it. he went to bed 45 minutes late becaue he kept asking for more salad, and there was no way in hell i was going to say no.
ps - one of my tag-ees has risen to the challenge.
my favorite meal this week was the one i made on sunday night. yes, i made dinner on mother's day. the horror! except not, because 1) i like to cook, 2) stephen took wile into the yard to play baseball so i got to cook alone, which is a rare and beautiful thing these days, 3) stephen did the dishes, 4) i knew what i wanted and if stephen had insisted on making it just because "it's mother's day and mothers don't cook on mother's day" or some such nonsense, he would have had to ask me questions and checked in with me a bunch of times and it would have been not at all the "break" for me that it would seem, and 5) we had gone out to a great dinner the night before.
i made pork chops and a salad, which sounds pretty boring, no? except. i've discovered, thanks to cook's illustrated, the perfect way to cook pork chops. it's a little wacky, but you really honestly do end up with the juiciest pork chops ever. here's the deal:
take your pork chops (bone-in or bone-out, but bone-in is better; either way, try to get them at least 1" thick) and rub them all over with some vegetable oil, then salt and pepper them. on one side, sprinkle with a pinch of sugar. if there's a lot of fat on one edge, make a couple of cuts into it, just down to the meat, so that the chop doesn't curl up in the pan. then grab a non-stick pan and put it onto a cold burner. yes, cold. take the chops and put them in the pan sugar-side down, pressing them into the pan. (i've used two kinds of pans for this technique, a calphalon and a cast iron pan. with the calphalon, i found that i needed to put a little bit of oil into the pan, in addition to the oil that i rubbed on the chops, to keep then from sticking totally. with the cast iron pan, not so much. so, see how it goes with your pan.) turn the heat on under the pan to medium high, and don't go far away. the chops should start sizzling within 2 minutes; if they don't, turn the heat up. let them cook for somewhere between 2-1/2 and 7 minutes, until they're browned on the one side (that's why you put the sugar on, to help with the browning). then turn them over, turn the heat down to low, cover the pan, and find your meat thermometer. i usually start checking them after about 3 minutes, 2 minutes if they're on the thinner side—you want them to come up to 140˚ in the center. this could take up to 10 minutes, depending on your pan, what "low" means on your stove, the meat itself, etc etc. when they've reached temp, take them out and throw them on a plate, tented with aluminum foil.
then make a sauce in the pan. my favorite thing to do is saute some shallots in the residual pork fat, then throw in some brandy, let it cook down, and finish it with a tablespoon or so of butter. i've also made a good one with just a 1/2 cup of vegetable broth and a couple of teaspoons of mustard, boiled down a little bit. last night i wanted the brandy sauce but we were out of brandy and shallots, so i used some slices of garlic and medium-dry sherry instead, and it was delicious. when the sauce is made, turn off the heat and throw the chops back in the pan for a second the coat with the sauce and warm them up, and serve.
and for our salad, we had some baby swiss chard that i got from the crazy hydroponic organic people at the farmer's market. it was really tender but a little bit bitter, so i made a honey vinaigrette (1t honey, 1t mustard, 1t white vinegar, 1/3 cup walnut oil) to go with it. it was a great salad, much more interesting than any lettuce, but the best thing about it, and the reason that this was my favorite meal of last week, was that wile ate 7 helpings of it. he went to bed 45 minutes late becaue he kept asking for more salad, and there was no way in hell i was going to say no.
ps - one of my tag-ees has risen to the challenge.
Monday, May 14, 2007
meme
i've been tagged. it's a blog thing.
here's the rules:
1. List 7 random facts about yourself on your blog
2. Tag 7 more blogs , making sure to let them know.
and away we go....
1) i have no spleen. or gall bladder. but i do have a lovely 18" scar on my abdomen, shaped like this: ^.
2) i hate bananas. but i love banana bread.
3) when i was in 8th grade, the popular girls (who were my best friends the year before) organized our entire class against me. they came up with a lovely nickname that i......nope, still can't talk about it. thought maybe i could, but no. it'll go to the grave. and when they "apologized", i was too shell-shocked to even tell them to eat shit and die. however: one of them got knocked up our senior year, one of them ended up married to the loser local cop who used to bust us for doing donuts in the school parking lot, and one of them got in a car accident and screwed up her throat in some such way that she can't speak above a whisper. lesson? don't fuck with me. hee. just kidding. maybe.
4) my favorite book is anne of green gables.
5) i didn't learn to ride a bike till i was 10 years old.
6) trucky has a recurring zit under his right armpit, and once a month or so, i squeeze it for him .
7) in 6th grade, for our "yearbook", we had to write an essay about what our lives would be like when we grew up. mine said that i would be living in a brownstone in new york city with my husband and some cats and that i would be an artist. yes, yes, yes, and working on it.
okay, so but as far as rule 2? i don't think i can hit 7. i'll do 3. i'll let you know if they comply...
here's the rules:
1. List 7 random facts about yourself on your blog
2. Tag 7 more blogs , making sure to let them know.
and away we go....
1) i have no spleen. or gall bladder. but i do have a lovely 18" scar on my abdomen, shaped like this: ^.
2) i hate bananas. but i love banana bread.
3) when i was in 8th grade, the popular girls (who were my best friends the year before) organized our entire class against me. they came up with a lovely nickname that i......nope, still can't talk about it. thought maybe i could, but no. it'll go to the grave. and when they "apologized", i was too shell-shocked to even tell them to eat shit and die. however: one of them got knocked up our senior year, one of them ended up married to the loser local cop who used to bust us for doing donuts in the school parking lot, and one of them got in a car accident and screwed up her throat in some such way that she can't speak above a whisper. lesson? don't fuck with me. hee. just kidding. maybe.
4) my favorite book is anne of green gables.
5) i didn't learn to ride a bike till i was 10 years old.
6) trucky has a recurring zit under his right armpit, and once a month or so, i squeeze it for him .
7) in 6th grade, for our "yearbook", we had to write an essay about what our lives would be like when we grew up. mine said that i would be living in a brownstone in new york city with my husband and some cats and that i would be an artist. yes, yes, yes, and working on it.
okay, so but as far as rule 2? i don't think i can hit 7. i'll do 3. i'll let you know if they comply...
Thursday, May 10, 2007
hello amoxicillin my old friend
so, it's strep throat. which, now that the worst of the illness seems to be over, is actually good news, since i've got the meds and hopefully i'll be back to normal by next week. i went to the walk-in clinic this morning and the doctor took one look at my throat and said "oh honey, i don't even need to swab you. you've got it." i have the kind of strep throat you can see from space.
the worst part, now that i can swallow without feeling like my saliva is made of crushed glass, is keeping up with wile, poor thing. i can't pitch. i can't dig. i'm no good in the joint. he's had it with me, and i don't blame him.
i'm going to go take a nap now, while he naps, but i'll leave you with this bit of entertainment: when we were up at aunt peg's house, wile got a rake and a hoe for his gardening work. which means i now get to hear him say, "mama, where my ho?"
and if you don't find that funny, we can't be friends.
the worst part, now that i can swallow without feeling like my saliva is made of crushed glass, is keeping up with wile, poor thing. i can't pitch. i can't dig. i'm no good in the joint. he's had it with me, and i don't blame him.
i'm going to go take a nap now, while he naps, but i'll leave you with this bit of entertainment: when we were up at aunt peg's house, wile got a rake and a hoe for his gardening work. which means i now get to hear him say, "mama, where my ho?"
and if you don't find that funny, we can't be friends.
Monday, May 07, 2007
uuuuuuugh
have been out of town for a couple of weeks.
have returned.
have come down with some sort of lovely illness that constists of a headache, body ache, chills, and the feeling that i have been stabbed in the throat.
hope you're all better than that!
back soon.....
have returned.
have come down with some sort of lovely illness that constists of a headache, body ache, chills, and the feeling that i have been stabbed in the throat.
hope you're all better than that!
back soon.....
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