Sleepyhead

I never nap when Jack naps. During the week, that’s prime work time. During the weekend, I usually get some uninterrupted reading time. Regardless, I don’t sleep, and it’s not a problem. Usually.

Today was the sixth day in a row with no nap for Jack, and I’ve noticed a confusing trend. When Jack doesn’t nap, I’m the one who feels sleepy in the afternoon. Yesterday my eyes were actually watering from the effort of keeping them open.

I don’t have this problem on days he naps. Apparently, it’s super exhausting for me to watch him not nap. He doesn’t even give me a hard time about it anymore – there’s no crying or yelling. He just doesn’t nap, and eventually I give up. And THEN the sleepiness rolls in, which makes it extra hard to try to work while he plays (when he’s not tugging at my arm or stealing my mouse).

Anyway, I’m going to bed.

Pinky

Jack’s sleep has never been terribly consistent, but we found our routine and things had been going well most of the time (for the last few months, at least).  Jack learned to fall asleep in the crib, not entirely on his own, but quickly, so it was working for us, and he usually slept through the night.  On any given night, I would (or John would – we did it the same way) put Jack in the crib and then sit or lie down next to him and slide one hand between the crib slats.  Jack might ask me to rub his back until he fell asleep, or he might grab my hand and hold it, roll over on top of it, or lay his head down on it.  Not too long after that (most nights), he’d be asleep and I would pull the magician-tablecloth trick and get my hand back without waking him up.

It worked for a long time, and actually, it’s still working, but for the last few weeks, Jack has been waking up in the middle of the night and very clearly telling us that he’s upset because he woke up and we weren’t there.  We were there when he went to sleep – what happened?  That’s EXACTLY the reason all those sleep books give for why babies need to learn to go to sleep completely on their own.  They wake up freaked out because things are different and they don’t understand.  I read those books forever ago, but it’s only now that it’s actually a problem for us.

So now we need to fix it.  It’s finally really truly time to teach Jack how to put himself to sleep without Mommy and Daddy in the room.  It’s going to take a SUPER long time, though, because we have found out that we’re just not cry-it-out people.  Can’t take it.  Not gonna do it.

So instead, we’re going to take baby steps.  First, no more hand.  We’ll still put him in the crib and lie or sit down next to it, we’ll still talk or sing to him as needed, but no more falling asleep on top of or under the hand.  Once we have that down, we’ll start moving farther away from the crib, toward the door, until we can put him in the crib, say good night, and leave.  It’s going to take FOREVER, but I’m hopeful that it’ll work.  There will be crying, but we won’t have left him alone to deal with it.

That’s the plan.  And we have begun!  Barely.  On night one, I put him in the crib, sat down next to him like usual, and when he asked for my hand, I said “No hand.”  Cue the crying.  He cried and sobbed “Yes, hand!  Yes, Mama hand!” for 32 minutes and then he passed out.  Success?  Sort of?

The next day at nap time, I did the same thing, but there was only an hour of crying, no nap.  Which is pretty much what I expected for naps.  The second night was John’s turn, and Jack was exhausted from not napping, so he fell asleep in John’s lap during story time.  Doesn’t count.  Day 2’s nap is where I think I turned our baby steps plan into even smaller steps (not on purpose!).

He was crying, asking for my hand, not napping, threatening to climb out of the crib, and then I got him to lie down and giggle a little by pretending to offer him my pinky, outside the crib, and then YOINK!  He couldn’t have it.  We did that for the last 10 minutes of the nap attempt.  No nap, not surprising.  Then we got to Night 3, my turn, and Jack didn’t ask for my hand!  He asked for my pinky.  I let him have it, his hand outside the crib, my pinky clutched in his fist, and he was asleep within minutes.

That’s totally cheating, I know.  But at the same time, it’s kind of a step in the right direction, so I’m letting it ride for a few days before I take it away.

Can’t brain

Today was not a good day for braining.  Jack woke up at 2:45am and got some snatches of sleep before he gave up on trying around 4am, so the three of us have pretty much been up since 2:45 this morning. Well, Jack’s asleep now, but I’m coasting on fumes and won’t be conscious much longer.  Also, his nap was WAY too short and then, tired and upset as he was after only sleeping for 40 minutes, he couldn’t settle down enough to sleep again.

On the plus side, I’m the one who got him to sleep for his nap today, so yay me!  I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my nap technique that had him waking up 40 minutes later.

BUT short nap yesterday then bad night last night then short nap today possibly means bad night again tonight soooooo I’m going to bed right now.

Terribly sorry about only complaining about my lack of sleep tonight.  Let’s try again tomorrow.

Sleep is a distant memory

For anyone wondering, the complete absence of posts for two weeks was due to Jack being born and me losing the ability to use my hands for anything other than holding the baby.  He won’t sleep in anything safe, like the crib or the bassinet.  He’ll only sleep occasionally in the napper (unsafe: too cushy, inclined) or in our arms, and in our arms means WE don’t sleep.

We’ve gotten lots of advice, and we’re trying lots of different things, but we’re basically resigned to being completely exhausted for the first couple of months.  And hello, we KNEW that – we’ve watched plenty of movies and TV and we have lots of friends and family who have gone through this – but there’s a difference between knowing about it and experiencing it.  It’s a combination of “I would give anything for a decent few hours’ sleep” and “no, I can’t put this baby down, I HAVE to hold him so he knows I love him, and if that means I don’t sleep, then I don’t sleep.”

“How am I able to type this now?”, you ask, reasonably curious after what I just said.  Well, I’ll tell you.  Half an hour ago, he fell asleep in my arms while nursing.  I swaddled him first, using the first blanket we got that was actually large enough for him, and I managed to get him from my arms into the pack and play bassinet without fuss.  We’ve done that before, but he never lasts more than five minutes or so.  As of right now, we’re going on 40 minutes napping in the bassinet, and even if he wakes up right now (he’s stirring, so he might), I’m going to count this as a win.  We just need him to do it at night.

Also, it might have been smart of me to take that 40 minutes and nap myself, but…who said I was smart?

I wanna rock and roll all night and part of every day

This is not how weather is supposed to work, Providence.

Weekends are for sunny days so we can enjoy them!  Get it together, RI!

In other news, the concert last night was a LOT of fun.  Against Me! was fantastic, and I would see them again any day.  They need to choose better opening acts, but oh well.  It was a small club, and it wasn’t packed, but most of the audience were serious fans who pushed in close and sang every word.  (I only knew a couple of songs that well, but give me time.)  I like being packed in with a ton of people all focused on the stage, all singing together, but we ditched the crowded floor after a few too many close encounters with moshing idiots.  Who knew punk fans would ignore the big NO MOSHING signs?  Silly me for assuming they’d be rule followers.  The balcony was much safer but it had zero energy.  I brought my own, of course, and they played my favorite song, and hey – it took us less than an hour to get home in the middle of the night.  We were totally exhausted this morning, naturally.  I was actually dizzy for a few seconds when I got up, but an early bedtime tonight ought to fix that.  We are party animals, yes we are.

Ramada: you can freeze to death and eat soggy cake!*

*To be fair, the soggy cake was not Ramada’s fault.

Neither of us slept last night, not more than a couple of hours.  The bed was super uncomfortable, the kids didn’t leave the pool for at least an hour after we went to bed, some light (maybe from the A/C unit) was glowing too brightly, and I was fuh-REEZING.  I can’t sleep when I’m shivering, there weren’t any extra blankets, and we were too tired to figure out the A/C plus it was mounted really high on the wall.  We were both awake an hour before the alarm went off, awake enough that we just got up at 3:30 instead of waiting for it, and then our flight to Seattle was too short for napping (only 30 minutes in the air).  We are going to crash so hard tonight.

So with the uncomfortable bed, the mildewy smell in the room, and a couple of other things, I think I have validated my resistance to Ramada hotels over the years.  I mean, last night the price was right and obviously it was okay, but given a choice, I’ll choose something else.

The last time I can remember staying in a Ramada was for our first anniversary, 2001, in San Diego.  John and I had just driven across the country for the first time, moving from Newport, RI to San Diego to get to my first ship.  We didn’t have a place to live yet; the plan was to find an apartment within the first few days and stay in cheap hotels in the meantime.  When we got there, we spent a night or two in a Motel 6 (where one night I got up around 3am and got in the shower because I thought it was morning), and then decided to splurge on the Ramada for our anniversary night.

Mom had packed the top layer of our wedding cake in dry ice for the cross-country trip.  The dry ice lasted until we got to San Diego, and then we replaced it with regular ice for the last day or two.  We realized that might have been a bad idea when we started to unwrap it in the hotel room.  There was some dripping, and we moved to the bathroom sink.

First layer of aluminum foil: water from the ice. No big deal.  Next layer of foil: more water.  Next later of wax paper: water and a few crumbs.  That’s when we started to worry.  Next layer (foil or wax paper – can’t remember): more water, more crumbs.  When we finally got to the actual cake it was pretty water-logged.  The middle was still edible, but I can’t say it was good.  Still – we ate it.  I mean, not the whole thing, but enough to count.

The beginning

Our trip has begun!  Sort of.  Tonight is Erev Trip, or maybe that was last night.  Our flight from Portland to Seattle is at 6am tomorrow, so we’re doing the park-sleep-fly thing in the airport Ramada tonight.  The airport Ramada is…not so great, but it’ll do for a night.  The biggest issue is that it’s 8pm and our shuttle leaves the hotel at 4:20am so we’re getting up before 4am and we need to go to bed but it’s still broad daylight outside and our room overlooks the pool and there are kids playing in it and tomorrow is going to SUCK.  But we’ll be on vacation!  It’ll be a bearable kind of suck.

Early bedtimes are a must this week

I am sore and tired and sore and tired and sore and tired and can I have another day off please?  Yesterday’s workout caught up to me this morning.  I was going to go to a 9:15 yoga class this morning, but I could barely lift my arms over my head and that would have made yoga difficult.  Also, any balancing would have been just impossible because I’m SO TIRED I can’t see straight.  John had a gig last night, and it went late, and then it went later, and then they finally took the stage, and then it was even later because Daylight Saving Time started last night, so it was 3:30 in the morning before I crawled into bed.  Stupid spring forward.  Yoga at 9:15 didn’t have a chance.

So it’s 8:15 on a Sunday night, which technically should feel like 7:15 on a Sunday night, but as far as I’m concerned it feels like midnight on a Sunday night and I really need to be sleeping.

Ten sentences, no substance

Hi.  Today sucked.  Story tomorrow.  Tonight: shower, then bed.  Possibly no stop for reading, even.  That’s how much I want to be sleeping.

(We’re both okay, everyone we know is okay.  Today’s suckiness is under control.  It’s just sucky and, well, inconvenient.  Took an okay day down the tubes.)

Broken promises

I broke my vow to eat only chocolate on our return to Oregon.  At breakfast.  I had an omelet that was not made of chocolate.  And then I got Twizzlers at the airport.  And then I ate a bagel, and then I ate Cheez-Its at ten o’clock at night on the drive home from the airport.  So junk food, sure.  Chocolate, not so much.

To make it up to myself, I had chocolate for breakfast today.  (We have no other food in the house.)  That might be all I eat today because I am SO FREAKIN’ TIRED I’m not sure I can find us any other food.  Everything is too much of an effort.

Much ado about 15 minutes

Here’s the a downside of working east coast hours while living on the west coast:

I try to start work by 9am Eastern, so I get up no later than 5:45 Pacific.  My first meeting of the day is usually 9:30 Eastern, giving me half an hour to go through some email and wake up a bit more before I have to talk to anyone.  On Thursdays, I have a 9am meeting with my boss, just him and me, so on Thursdays, I get up at 5:30 Pacific – enough extra time awake that I can be coherent.  It’s feels like it’s a whole hour earlier when I wake up, but I get over that once I get out of bed.

That’s not the downside I’m talking about, although it is one.

No, the downside is when your boss, who you thought was a kind and understanding man, deprives you of that 15 minutes of sleep by rescheduling your 9am meeting to another day and making that schedule change at 8am the morning of.  I woke up at 5:30, crept downstairs in the dark to avoid waking John up, brushed my teeth, washed my face, put my contacts in, and then, all awake, I sat down in front of my laptop and found that my boss, who is clearly a cold-hearted monster with no regard for my feelings, had moved the meeting to next week less than an hour before.  If he had made the change last night, I would have seen it AND I COULD HAVE SLEPT IN.

Not ready for it to be over

(Written on the plane, posted later)

At the end of most vacations, while I haven’t been happy for the vacation to end, I’ve been happy to be going home, or at least ready for it. Not so much with this one. I’m not sure what’s different. I’ve hardly thought about work, and I still have days before I have to, so I don’t think it’s work avoidance. I’m not reluctant to go back to Oregon – I like it there, and there are things I’m planning to do once we get home. As much as I love Disney World and I hated to leave it last night (even though it was POURING DOWN RAIN again during the fireworks and as we were leaving), we had done everything there was to do, so I don’t feel like I’m missing anything by leaving it. But after fewer than four hours of sleep, a five-and-a-half hour cross-country flight, and a two-hour layover in LAX, I was fighting this urge to postpone our flight to Oregon for a couple of days and check out LA. Maybe it’s sleep deprivation. I overcame that urge and got on the plane to Portland, and we’re not even going straight home, so I don’t really know what I’m talking about anymore. Maybe it’s sleep deprivation. The plan is to spend the afternoon and night in Portland (bedtime will be SO early), meet up with Will and Christina in the morning, and go to this fairy/fantasy-themed festival thing tomorrow. I’m picturing a renaissance fair with fairies, but I don’t really know what it’ll be like. I’ll let you know how it goes. THEN we go home.

Oh, but now I’m on the plane to Portland, NOT sitting next to John because the airline surprised us with upgrades to first class. I have no idea why we got the upgrades, and I’m not complaining. I can manage being two rows away from him for less than three hours. American is my new favorite airline.

I usually have Disney songs within easy reach in my brain (most of the time it’s “Part of Your World” and “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes”), but for the last three days, I’ve been cycling through “Let It Go”, “Be Our Guest”, and “We Can Fly”. Can’t get rid of them. Not sure I want to (although “Let It Go” is free to go away whenever it wants). Maybe it’s sleep deprivation.

I probably won’t have time to write tomorrow, but hopefully I’ll be back to my regular posting schedule by Sunday. With pictures.

Wake me up when…no. Don’t.

So….I started to write a post, and judging by the number of misspelled and outright missing words I found, what I really need is to go to bed.  We got our bed back last night, and I slept well for the first time in two weeks, but one night isn’t enough.

Tonight, we will do a little unpacking, eat dinner, and crash.  EARLY.  Our mornings are early, since we’re attempting to work east coast hours.  The early mornings and an air mattress for nine days – not a good combination.  I do not recommend it.

I do recommend sleep.  Which I am going to have.  Soon.

Accepted!

We did it!  We got the house we wanted!  Our application was approved, our security deposit is in the mail (although our jet-lagged brains fought really hard to forget it when we went to get lunch today), and we’re just waiting for them to send the paperwork.  YAYYYYYYY!!!!!

We had a great day in Portland yesterday, and I’ll tell you all about it, but…I can’t.  Not right now.  I worked 7 hours today after our red-eye (maybe not the smartest idea), and I might fall asleep in my sandwich.  Here’s to being more awake tomorrow!

Time is relative

Yesterday flew by.  Then last night was the longest night in recorded history, followed by today, which seems like it will never end.  Benadryl  has turned on me.  It is now the enemy, not to be trusted.  Those $#&$%# mosquitoes from the other night left bites that are torturing me.  I couldn’t sleep last night at all.  I bought topical Benadryl – no relief.  Before I went to bed, I let my feet soak in cool water in the tub.  That felt GREAT, but I can’t exactly sleep there.  I took one Benadryl pill around 7 or so, and then the second one around 9:30.  I don’t know if this would have happened on just one, but two was a mistake.  Rather than relieving some of the itching and knocking me unconscious, the itching felt worse than ever and I was WIRED.  Wide awake, heart not exactly racing, but certainly not calm.  I was restless, and my feet were burning.  Within half an hour, I had my feet back in the tub, and not more than another half-hour after that, I moved to the couch so I wouldn’t keep John up all night with my constant tossing and turning.  I tossed and turned on the couch all night instead, watching the clock, unable to sleep or relax.  It was not fun.

I must have slept a little bit – I remember dreams about packing and getting rid of things.  But I also know I looked at the clock some part of each hour at least twice.  I bailed on running with Susan (which I regret now. I was awake – why not go?) and managed to nap some between 6 and 7.  I got up and went to work anyway.  I wasn’t sleepy.  I’m still not nearly as tired as I ought to be, and I’m not looking forward to the collapse.  I’m also not looking forward to trying to sleep tonight.  It’s so much worse at night.

I’m seeing a doctor tomorrow (for something else), so if this isn’t better, I’ll be bringing it up.  I just want the itching to stop.  Amputation seems reasonable.

Sleeping until 7am feels sinful

This whole getting up at 5:15 every morning thing is wearing thin.  I like working out in the morning MUCH more than doing it at night, but 5:15 is just SO EARLY.  I’m 36 years old – I shouldn’t feel like I’m up past my bedtime at 9.  It’s 8:34 right now, and I can feel the anxiety creeping in.  I’d better start getting ready for bed so I can be falling sleep by 9 or a little after.  I know I need about 8 hours every night, but worrying about not getting enough sleep doesn’t exactly help.

Good news, though: the end is in sight.  We just have to make it to August.  We’ll continue getting up this early most mornings as long as we live here and belong to this gym.  The 6am class is the class we can get to before work, with the instructor we like, and the other people we know and like, so we’ll stick it out.  Even if we’re working from home before then.  We might not go that early EVERY day if we’re working from home, but instructor, people, etc.  We’ll do it sometimes.

Once we’re really working from home, we’ll have more control over the work-day schedule.  No commute?  That’s sleep-in time!  No office clothes or office people?  The post-workout shower can wait a bit.  More sleep-in time!

But speaking of sleeping, it’s 8:43 now, and I need to get ready for bed.

SO close

There were 10 glorious minutes this morning when I thought I was going to be able to sleep in.  Right after our alarm went off this morning (for the early early boxing class), I got a text from Doug saying his key wasn’t working and he couldn’t get into the gym, so class was off.  Oh, look!  Sleep is beckoning!  I reset the alarm (for almost TWO HOURS later) and then texted our friend Erica so she wouldn’t show up to the class unnecessarily and be stuck out in the cold.  So maybe I only got nine minutes.  Well, I spent probably another minute considering getting up and going to the other gym or going for a run.  Considered it.  Decided against it.  So maybe I only got eight minutes before the next text came in.  I almost didn’t check it – thought it was going to a reply from Erica.  I think it’s a good thing that I checked it.  Pretty sure.  I was awake already, I’d planned to get up and work out, and I didn’t actually go back to sleep in those eight minutes.  So I checked the text – it was Doug saying he got in, and he’ll be there training if we want to show up.  There was really no question after that.  We went.  There was some speculation about how he got in (back door?  picked the locks?  in through a rooftop vent?), but the answer was much more mundane.  (There are two sets of doors facing the front.  He wasn’t using his keys on the right set.)  I prefer the version where Doug is a cat burglar, able to get in to any locked building without being caught.

Freedom!

We are free from our manipulative real estate agent!  Hooray for us!  She actually fired us.  🙂  It was kind of awesome.  She said she couldn’t sell it at this price, we said we weren’t willing to change it, and she suggested we sign a release from the agreement.  We win!  And now we’ll take a little time, maybe enjoy the holiday season, and do it on our own soon.

I was doing so well with keeping up here, and then last week started.  It was a horrible, crazily busy, totally exhausting week.  Work was nuts, our evenings were not our own, and we just got back from a whirlwind 36-hour trip to PA and back for Emily’s engagement party.  I can barely keep my eyes open.  We braved Wegmans to get the basic pre-Thanksgiving shopping done, mostly because I have pies to make.  Lots of pies.  This year I actually need to double my recipe.

I’m too tired to make any more sense, so I’m going to shut down the computer, heat up dinner (we scored leftovers from the party last night), and watch TV with John.  I might last another hour, max.  I will try really really hard to post regularly again.  I like it.

I’d like the early bird special, please

I went shopping a couple of weeks ago and bought the CUTEST dresses.  I wore the sheath dress to the ballet with Emily in March (so I guess the shopping trip was more like a month ago), and I think I’m going to wear the other one (which looks better on me than it does in the picture, if I may say so myself) to a coworker’s wedding in a couple of weeks.  I love dresses.

I am so completely exhausted.  I skipped yoga.  I shouldn’t have, but I got home and told John I was going to go, and his “oh, really?” sounded small and slightly disappointed, and that’s all it took to change my mind.  And the best part is that it’s only just after 8, and there’s no reason I can’t go to bed RIGHT NOW.  I can climb into my nice comfy bed and read my book until I fall asleep and I’ll still get a good night’s sleep…why am I still here?

P.S. Riley’s fine.  His paw isn’t bothering him at all anymore.  No more limping.