When the Kid Doesn't Nap

Maybe this guy (or gal?) could convince him to nap?

It makes me crazy. Crazier than just about anything else these days. It makes me feel like my insides are being squeezed. I freak out, to others probably unreasonably. And then I get even more upset because they just don't understand why I'm so upset.

I'm writing this while I can hear the springs squeaking in his crib from his jumping up and jumping down, his voice explaining something to his lion, Lionel. Probably telling him that  his mommy should pull herself off of the (blessed) couch and come to his rescue.

We went to the aquarium today, which was wonderful, but a long drive, and on the way home he got that spacey look in his eyes, the spacey look that I should know by now means a "waking nap", and that he's not gonna do it again, even if his eyes should spend awhile closed.

It's so frustrating because I know he's tired! He was rubbing his eyes like crazy before I put him down. But now he's wired. And I'm a mess too.

I NEED his nap as much as he does. I just realize now its because I need to have a few hours where all my mommy-receptors are turned off.

That's why, even though he's safe in his crib and I'm out here, its still hell, because the receptors are on. "When should I go in?" I'm thinking, "Is he ok? Am I traumatizing him? Will he maybe, by some miracle, finally fall asleep, jumping? And why is he calling me Eva instead of mommy!?"

Now is perhaps when I should either cry or call a babysitter.

Bedtime Tonight

Isaac and I were sitting in his almost black bedroom except for one skinny streak of light coming in through the edge of his door. He had already tried pushing me away and jumping off for a daredevil back-dive. He was finally on my lap, all snuggled in.
His cheek was on my chest with his bottom sticking out toward my knees.  We were rocking on his Great Grandma's rocking chair and I was singing him a waltz (doo doo doo, doo-doo.  Doo doo. Doo doo. Doo doo doo doo doo, doo doo, doo doo. and so on), and then a Spiritual, and then a made up song from his baby-hood.
After 15 minutes of this, I heard his baby-voice shine through the darkness, softly but very clearly, "Buliobuliobyabya. Gliogloba. Pha."
I knew he was not asleep.

early mornings

This post is for anyone whose baby wakes them up crazy early in the morning.

Sunrise, Fort Greene Park, Isaac is almost as sleepy as me.  That's why he's blurry!

Morning = Spring
Daytime = Summer
Evening = Autumn
Night = Winter

Spring is the most lovely and fleeting time of the year, no?  And we get to be awake for it!
Thank you babies!

I hate my cats

Today has not been a good cat day AT ALL.
5 minutes ago I was all snuggled in for a nap in between piles of partially folded, but very clean laundry. I was just beginning to doze when Goose jumped up to join me in napping (I thought) and instead threw up on 2 piles of laundry and the comforter in between the two piles.  Aaarghhh.  Now I'm awake.
But that is not all.  This morning, that same Goose (bad cat of the day) didn't recognize her own momma Evette, coming in from outside, and started howling, hissing, moaning, and whatever else totally freaked out cats do and say.  All that carrying on woke Isaac up, a mere 30 minutes into his morning nap.
Oooh, I was mad.   Sooo mad.  I never knew how mad I could get at a nap other than my own being disturbed.  My hands were balled into fists and I was saying all sorts of words that you aren't supposed to say in front of a (now awake) baby.
If anybody wants a pair of lovely and terrible cats, let me know.

This photo is from when I loved them (Goose in front).

Goose right now, sleeping alone on the laundry.

multi-tasking

Oh boy, I just realized I am honestly trying to sew pants, eat lunch, and write a blog post all at the same time!
Why?  Because the little guy is napping, of course!
I wanted to write about chewing my baby's food for him, how that many people find that gross, but I'll save that one for later, because multi-tasking is really the most pertinent thing of the moment.
Its funny to think of all the things I now do on the phone that I never did before.  I must buy a phone where the speaker phone works.   That would really help me grow the "to do" on the phone list.
Well in all honesty its not that many different things I do, just an important few.

When he goes down for a nap, I feel like a shotgun has gone off in my head.  Like a practiced racehorse, I feel my head moving in front of my body, willing, daring it to keep up.  And also like a race horse, sometimes I crash into things and it all goes to pot.
And then when he makes those little grunting noises, I have to first canter, then trot a little, warming down, as he warms up.
But that is hopefully 45 minutes away. Now I gotta go have another bite and find some brown thread, probably at the same time.

Oh, how I hate to listen to him cry

Whoever says that sleep training works so that they won't cry like crazy after the first few days is wrong, wrong, dreadfully wrong.
His crying ties my stomach in knots (I feel sick).
I can hear the sleep sheep (velcroed to the side of his crib, eyes closed, to set an example) once in a while when he stops.  It's a sheep full of ocean waves (or heartbeat, or eerie wale sounds, or rain depending on your taste), trying (not always so successfully) to soothe.
And then when he is quiet (like now!) the sleep sheep takes over, growing as big as his little room so he can snuggle into its fur and dream (or so I imagine).

My camera is broken and won't upload.  Poop!  Here is a visual, albeit an old one of the little one in dreamland...

sleep sheep and Isaac