#MicroblogMondays 73: solidarity

One of my college roommates texted this morning to say that she was 9 weeks pregnant, went in for spotting, and the baby had no heartbeat.  This is her second miscarriage since October.

Secondary infertility is heartbreaking, and I'm devastated for my friend, her husband, and her children.

Thoughts and prayers appreciated as we stand by her in solidarity, an unfortunate sisterhood of loss.

A Mom by Any Other Name

We are STILL having sleep troubles with Daniel, as in he still won't go to sleep in his bed (or anywhere, for that matter) unless one of us is sleeping in his room with him.  We're going on two weeks of this now, and I realize that two weeks out of the 150 weeks of life he has lived is not much, but right now it feels like FOREVER.

I know this next part will sound spoiled and maybe selfish, and as a preface, I adore my children and wouldn't change my life as a mom of 2.  Hubs and I worked really hard to sleep train the boys when they were little, and as such, they are both great sleepers.  Cam was harder, but he's a great 7-6ish sleeper now.  So, hubs and I got used to having our evenings to ourselves, 7:30 on.  And it was lovely. We talked, we cooked dinner, we watched TV--we relaxed. We both work full-time and rarely have any time to talk until the kids go to bed, and often hubs doesn't even walk in the door until 6:30 pm.  Here's the selfish part: I MISS THAT TIME.  I miss having a couple of kid-free hours to myself at night to unwind and just relax.

I literally have a child clinging to me from 4pm-9pm right now (Cam until he goes down, and then Daniel) and y'all, it's draining me.

I told hubs this. I told him that I wanted just 5 minutes to myself to to feel like a person again, and not just a mom. And he said, well maybe you shouldn't have been a mom if you wanted that.  (he was NOT being mean when he said this, trust me)

But that made me think...does a mom have to be a mom every second of the day? Does she have to completely sacrifice so much of herself that there's nothing left except drool-covered pants, sleep-deprived eyes, and a messy bun? So often moms are expected to do it all, and I think sometimes women feel that looking like they do it all is a mark of success.  Like, if you look like you didn't sleep last night you're obviously doing something right. Is that what makes a good mom? I will always do what is best for my children, but I also need time to be me and to be a wife.

So maybe I am (or was) spoiled because my kids sleep (slept) very well and go (went) down very easily.  Am I a bad mom because I don't want my kids clinging to me until I go to bed at night? Am I a bad mom because at 8 pm I want to curl up on the couch with a glass of wine and watch Modern Family? I don't think so. I'm a mom struggling to recharge herself enough to be able to give everything back to her children again the next day.

I desperately want and need Daniel to get out of this crazy pattern that he is in.  Right now, we are putting a bandage on it, and trying to figure it out, trying to be what he needs us to be. One of us goes to bed with him until he falls asleep and then comes downstairs.  Then, around 10, one of us goes back upstairs to sleep in the twin bed in Daniel's room. Again, this can't be a long-term thing, but we are just trying to make do and find some semblance of normalcy in this crazy phase Daniel is in.

You ladies ROCK

As always, this community never fails to dissapoint. Thank you ALL for the advice yesterday.  We didn't let him cry last night. We haven't heard back from pedi yet.

Progress:

• He will stay in his room by himself with lights on and iPad without even complaining.
• He only woke up once last night and barely even cried.
• He will stay in room with lights off and iPad.
• He isn't making himself throw up.
• He will nap in his room by himself.

No progress:

• still throws a fit when we try to leave at night, even after preparing him for it the whole day and talking about what will happen at night.  We offered a special breakfast with momma, and that incentive didn't work.  

So...on to it again tonight. I will post what finally ends up working.  We obviously want to do what's best for Daniel, but I would be lying if I didn't say it's starting to take a toll on hubs and I.  We have a baby-free trip to Nashville next weekend, so nighttime issues or not, we get a break in 9 days...

#MicroblogMondays 72: parenting gone wrong?

I know I don't visit here often, but ladies, I need some help! I'll keep it short, microblog style.

Daniel, almost 3, started having terrible nighttime anxiety after NYE. He's been an awesome sleeper since 10w old, and until now, we've been able to rub his back and he goes to sleep on his own, no issue.  Now, though....screaming, tantrums, made himself throw up...unless someone is literally in bed with him. So, we started trying to help him. We have successfully made it out of his bed but we still MUST be in his room or he has a tantrum.  One of us has to sleep in a twin bed at the end of his bed.

We have tried: flashlight, essential oils, special toy, life-sized minion (seriously, no joke), nightlight, white noise/music, everything. We tried leaving the door open but his screaming just woke the baby so that wouldn't work. He won't fall asleep with the light on. We've tried letting him fall asleep watching the iPad, no luck.

I think he's over the fear, but how do I know if he's just being defiant? When is it time for tough love? I love my kids, but hubs and I can't go to sleep with him at 7:30 at night just because he needs someone in there to fall asleep. He thinks he can just go downstairs with momma and daddy instead of going to sleep. He needs his sleep, too.  The screaming in the middle of the night has lessened, and honestly, he was waking once a night and calling for me before this all started, and i'm fine with that. I just go up, pull up his blankets, and he would go back to bed. For some reason, this has all changed now.

I'm really not sure what to do and I would welcome some advice. We are TIRED and in desperate need of at least one baby-free hour in the evenings :(

Is this real life?

I'm sitting at work, currently icing my finger that may or may not be broken.  I probably shouldn't have done an hour of hardcore pilates with it hurting last night. Oops.

Daniel has been waking up screaming at the top of his lungs at least once a night.  He's almost 3. This is wake-up frequency circa 8 weeks old.  He also wet his pants last night, the first time he's ever done that and he's been potty trained since August.

Cam chugs along pretty smoothly, until he decides that 5 is a FABULOUS wake up time. With daycare trying to transition him to one nap...who knows how this night will look.

Hubs took a new position at work.  This means: late nights, early mornings, grumpy hubs.  But it also means job stability, so I'll take it.

I had 3 cups of coffee this morning. THREE. And I still feel like I need more. And least you think 3 cups is not much, my mug is the size of a small bowl, because really, who drinks coffee from a small mug?!

I gave Daniel Cameron's breakfast this morning just to keep him from having a temper tantrum. Sorry, Cam, you got the crappy pancakes.

I wish there were a diet that consisted of chocolate and wine, and that it would somehow help me train for the half marathon in January for which I have lost ALL motivation.

My baby turns ONE in 2 weeks. How is this possible?

#MicroblogMondays 67: Remembrance

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is?Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too

Four years ago, Malachi grew his wings. Four years ago, I was 7 weeks pregnant and then, not pregnant.

In some ways, it feels like a lifetime ago.  But then I can still remember how I felt at each moment during that hellish week.

I can't imagine my life without the boys I have now, but there will always be a spot in my heart for my Malachi.

Sweet Malachi, would you look like Daniel? Would you be rambunctious like him, or would you be happy-go-lucky like Cameron? Would you have your daddy's eyes and your momma's nose like both of your brothers? I'm sad that I never got to meet you, that I never got to squish you in my arms, that I never got to rock you to sleep and smell your sweet baby smell.  Every time I see your Christmas ornament on our tree, I can't help but wonder.

Thank you for making me a momma that first time.

Forever in my heart, MEB.

Reflections, Reunions, and Wrinkles

My ten-year COLLEGE reunion is next weekend.  We all graduated in May 2005.  I went to small, private, Catholic college, and I only graduated with about 190 other students, 80 with whom I spent 5 months on a tiny campus in Rome. We were all very close, and I will admit that by graduation I was ready to spread my wings, but I think that was due to some serious boy/"finding myself" drama.

I've been reflecting a lot going into this crazy reunion.  More than anything, I'm THRILLED to see everyone, pump some keg beer, sit around a campfire, and act 21 again.  Ok maybe not 21, but definitely not 32.  The boys are not coming (hubs either), so it's a me-night, which doesn't happen very often.  But there's also something else I'm feeling, something deeper, more empathetic, more "32" of me.

What I don't know is what so many of my friends have gone through in the last ten years.  I know that many have miscarried one, two, three babies.  I know that my roommate of 3.5 years lost two of her daughters in the most horrific car accident I can imagine, something I think about every single day of my life.  I know that at least one person has fought a major medical battle and won.  Will these things be evident? Will I notice this in their smile, or in the crinkles around their eyes or the wrinkles in their foreheads that weren't there ten years ago?

How do we wear our grief and our past? Some of it we push down so that it's only a spec, only visible if someone truly knows you or if the moment is *just* right.  But I also believe that some of it is always visible, in a smile that's not quite as bright as it used to be, in a conversation just a little less upbeat than it would have been ten years ago.  For some of us, grief and loss have changed us irrevocably.

We can't undo the past or the loss that has left its indelible mark on our hearts, on our faces, just like as hard as we may try, we can't undo the wrinkles with which time has marked us.  And as hard as we may pretend, we can't go back ten years to be the people that we were. I--for one--do NOT want to be that girl again anyway.

Ultimately, I won't know who has suffered.  I will see the old friends before me, and we will catch up. We will talk about babies (and I'm not exaggerating when I say that there are probably 100+ babies that have been born to my class over the past 10 years) and husbands and food and jobs, and all the things you talk about when you're filling in the blanks from F.book posts.  But we won't talk about grief, about loss.  It will be there, in a glance at a brand-new baby.  It will be there, in a turned-down smile.  It will also be there in the unspoken way we have all changed and grown up.  Like it or not, it has shaped us into these 32 and 33 year-olds we are now.

So we will sit around that campfire and sing the songs we did when we were 21, probably drink the same beer we did when we were 21, and pretend--just for a night--that we don't have so many wrinkles.