The Sleepless Night from Hell

He had a busy day, but he still had energy. In fact, Kiddo had so much energy, he decided not to nap.

So after dinner we went for a family walk. We walked all the way to the park. We played on the playground. It got cold. Christian tried to pull Kiddo off the playground. Temper tantrum ensues. After several unsuccessful attempts at removing Kiddo from the playground, Christian hauls Kiddo over his shoulder and runs down the block, crossing the street.

I followed at a slower pace. The walk was slow going. Sometimes Kiddo ran back toward the park. Other times he stopped to smell roses. Actually. Roses. Like 27 in a row.

We get home in one piece, each parent carrying Kiddo part of the way. It's early. Kiddo can play a little before bed...except...he can't. He starts bawling.

"Mama! Ma MA! UPSTAIRS!"

He runs to me, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the stairs. I let go to grab something, but no. He stamps his feet. He howls. I grab his hand and we proceed haltingly up the stairs.

Christian follows to smooth the process. I get ready for bed as Christian wrestles with Kiddo to get him into sleepers.

No. It doesn't work. He writhes. He thrashes. He howls. Kiddo is taking one of his worst tantrums yet. Somehow Christian gets his shirt off. Kiddo is a cat. He pushes the pj shirt away from his head.

"No, no, no, no, no NO!!!!" he screams.

I come to Christian's aid.

"Baby, you need your sleepers on. It's time for bed. I know you're tired -"
"Mama! MAMA! DADDY! NO NO NO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

I perform magic and get his arms through the sleeves and his head the collar. We wrestle Kiddo as he thrashes, struggling and yelling, as we miraculously get his sleeper pants on.

I leave to get Kiddo's toothbrush.
"Ok Kiddo. You won!" I hear Christian say from the other room. It's like a switch. It's quiet.
"Kiddo, you won."
I go back in. There he is, sprawled on his stomach, cuddling his stuffed giraffe.
"Alexis, maybe we should just skip tonight -"
"No. He has a dental appointment tomorrow. He needs to brush his teeth." Normally toothbrushing is easy. Kiddo is cooperative. But of course, not this night. He immediately struggles and howls. I try to hold him down, but I can't get the brush in his mouth and hold him. Kiddo is too strong.
"Christian, a little help?" He jumps over, quickly wrapping Kiddo. I blink.
"Why are you holding my hand?" I ask. Christian chuckles.
"Oh! Sorry!" He adjusts his hold and Kiddo is secure. I brush as quickly as possible. Kiddo howls the whole time.

Once the brush is away, Christian let's go and Kiddo sits up. He's still howling. I realize all this time the window was open. I close it, hoping our neighbors don't hate us or think the demonic voice Kiddo uses was from some sort of ritualistic torture (other than common parenting).

"Mama! Mama! Daddy! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" He's reaching out for me. I turn off the light and he howls louder, even though this is how he sleeps every night.

We nurse.
He switches sides.
He switches again.
He switches again.
Finally he goes to sleep and I get a break. Christian and I chat for maybe an hour. I'm ready to sleep. Kiddo howls from his room. I sigh, get up and go over.

Kiddo is exceptionally clingy. He nurses. He switches sides. He switches again. He clings to me the entire time. I dose off. When I notice he is sound asleep, I leave. 5 minutes later, he wakes, screaming.

I go back in. We nurse. He switches sides. The cycle repeats, except this time, I stay. I figure this is the only way I will sleep. Kiddo pushes his head onto my pillow. He rolls over my hair. He smacks my face with his arm. I roll over. He smacks his skull into my jaw. I roll over. He cries.

"Nursing? Mama, I want nursing!"

We nurse. He switches sides. The cycle repeats. This time he doesn't sleep, but sits up and starts singing. He plays with his animals. He looks out the window. He talks. He sings. Finally he lays down as close as he can to me and stills.

Then Christian's alarm goes off.

I don't know why this happened the way it did. All I know is the following three nights he slept through the night (THANK GOD!). Also he outgrew his new shoes. It happens. I'm just glad it doesn't happen all the time. At least there's that small mercy.

My Hot Mom Bod

The week before my wedding candid.

It's been a while since I talked about how I'm doing physically, so I thought I'd give you an update.

First, let me apologize for not having full body photos because, well, I personally hate selfies with the phone in the mirror. So I don't take them, which means I don't have any recent full body shots. You'll have to make do with my pre-marriage face compared to my current face (which, you will note, is remarkably similar!).

That is because I am officially wearing clothes I wore before getting married, when I was my thinnest. Yep. I'm back to a size 6, and shrinking. I bought a pair of shorts that were a size 6. I recently wore a mini dress and loved it. I feel FANTASTIC! Is my body the same shape? No! Of course not! My ribs are wider. My hips are wider. My breasts are different. Even my feet are different! Is my skin all back to where it used to be? Uh, no. I need to get rid of some serious subdermal fat to get there, BUT all in all, I feel good in my skin and my body.

I am stronger than I've ever been, even when I was working out religiously. That is because of toddler training.

Moms do not talk about this, and maybe it isn't so with everyone, but for me, running around with my toddler is more than enough of a workout. I do not need to lift weights. I lift my toddler. I do not need to do plyometrics. I jump like a frog with my toddler.

A few weeks ago - same elven features!

The list goes on, but I won't bore you with the details. The summation is - active toddlers = workouts. Period. That's all you need to know.

Oh, and one other, itsy bitsy thing - extended breastfeeding.

Honestly, I am ready to wean. There are moments when I love the added closeness it gives Kiddo and me, but I could really use a break. And breaks mean, well, the end. I'm ready for him to stop waking in the middle of the night howling for me. Seriously ready.

But I can't deny how breastfeeding has helped me get to a healthier physical state (along with the obvious toddler training). So, even though I'm annoyed with it at this point (generally), I'm grateful for it too.

The difficulty now is to figure out how to wean, execute this plan, and maintain my healthy state. I'll let you know when I figure that one out. In the mean time, let me know any tips and tricks you have for doing that below!

Toddler The Destroyer

"He is all boy."

That's what people say about Kiddo when they see him.

"You are such a toddler."

That's what I say to Kiddo when he's getting into things.

A pool of Tylenol

Kiddo has spilled water and Tylenol all over three Roger Hargreaves books. He has ripped up one Ducati book. He has ripped out pages from his Hello Kitty coloring book. He has spilled cat food all over the floor. He has spilled his water all over...well, everything. He has dumped sand everywhere, resulting in diapers and shoes full of sand. He has dumped dirt on his head, leaving a layer of grit on his scalp.

Often when we try to get him clean up, he has a meltdown, or at the very least, fights me.

Kiddo does still like to use brooms, and enjoys helping with the laundry. Unfortunately, his sweeping makes more of a mess. Kiddo's laundry help usually means he crumples Christian's work shirt into a ball, and then puts it in a random drawer.

This is not the most enjoyable part of parenting a toddler. However, I wouldn't get the smiles, giggles, hugs, and kisses if I didn't have these parts too. I remind myself he is learning and exploring the world and that is a marvel.

Even though I sometimes yell, or need a break, I love my little boy. The awesome parts far out number the tough parts...

"I love you Mommy."

That one gets me every time.

Being A Model: Trust The Choice

Every day we make choices: what to wear, what to eat, to sleep in or not, coffee or tea, Dancing with the Stars or Daredevil...

There are some choices that are a bigger deal. The small ones certainly add up. I mean, in aggregate, the small choices are important. They point to the kind of person you actively choose to be every day. They point to the motivating forces, the principles behind actions. And other people see that.

Your life partner sees that. In fact, you probably became life partners because of those very principles, if not consciously, certainly at a subconscious level. Your partner was like, "Damn. Those are the kind of values I like!" and so you got married, or moved in, or whatever.

Your kids see those daily choices. Unlike your partner, your kids didn't get a choice for you as a parent. They got stuck with you as part of the package. So for better or worse, they look at you, every day, and see your choices. They see your reactions and your principles, lived out, second by second. And it's sinking in.

I am a systems thinker. I never look at something in isolation. I can't. It isn't possible for me. When I look at something, I see its causes and effects. I see its influences - the confluence of factors that allowed it to become. I see its wake, the pieces it leaves behind, the ripples that run through time and space.

Because of this, I take my life choices very seriously. Like, stupidly seriously. I never do something without careful consideration. Granted, that careful consideration may be the length of a few moments, or I may have been thinking about something for years and years before having the opportunity of a given choice.

My point is, I do everything with purpose. I do everything for a reason. I know every action I take and choice I make impacts the people around me. I know that. A good example of this is me taking forever to drive a car. Whenever you get behind the wheel, everyone in your vicinity, their lives, are all in your hands. That is why I never text. I never drive after drinking. I always signal and check my blind spot, because I feel responsible for every life around me. That is the kind of thing I see every second of my life - that I actively push down so I function like a normal human being.

Of course, this is a burden. It is an incredible burden. And it is frustrating when someone doesn't understand. It is frustrating when someone gives me advice because they think I have not considered the impact my choices make.

Please, for your own safety, never make that mistake. Know, I have thought about the range of impacts. I have come up with a thousand scenarios. I wrote them down. I compared pros and cons. I went through a self-assessment. I wrote several journal entries, and I talked to at least three close people, at least one of whom goes fractal when thinking.

It is possible I missed something. I am human. I make mistakes. I do miss things. This is why I need editors. But giving me advice about what to do is the opposite of helpful...

For example:
X: You should get a job at [insert random company here].
A: Well, right now I'm focusing on my book launch.
X: They're hiring. I know someone.
(Struggle not to roll eyes or laugh in face)
A: Seeing as I can't afford a babysitter, can't bring Kiddo to work, and I need to work on this book launch until at least June 15, I'm not going to apply right now.
X: Don't you think you should get a job?
(Bites tongue)
A: The current labor market relies on referrals. Companies don't want someone under qualified because they don't want to train. They don't want someone over qualified, because that person will jump ship at the earliest convenience. I have applied to jobs that I am perfect for, and not gotten an interview.
X: Maybe you should broaden your search.
(Nods and fixes smile to face)
A: Right. I'll do that.
(Walks away)

Believe me when I say I have thought carefully about how much our loans are costing our family, how me not working strains our situation. Believe me when I say I have gone through a thousand options for moves, jobs, life directions, and whole life plans. That is, as I stated above, what I do.

The tricky part is this: Trust me. I am focusing on something right now that is worth my time. I control all the factors of this book launch. I have direct control on the product I put out. I have direct control on the effort I put into marketing this book. I have direct control over the website design. I have direct control over how many people receive information about this book, my beloved THRIVE.

This book can help a lot of people. I know that. My beta readers have told me as much. I know what I'm doing. Know, I have to do this. I choose leaving a legacy. I choose trying my hardest to accomplish my life goals. I choose to show Kiddo what is possible in life. This is who I am. This is who I will always be: a purposeful writer, a voice. I can be nothing else.

The minute I start trying something else, focusing on something else, is the minute I've given up my purpose, my calling. In that moment, I have chosen a life of misery and despair. That is not the model I want Kiddo to have. Those are not the values I want for him. I am not that person.

It is a hard choice, but it is mine. Mine and no one else's. Trust my ability. Trust my vision. I know exactly what I'm doing, and I have a reason for everything I do. This is not some self-absorbed, self-indulgent act. It is much, much, much more.

A New Birthday

Last night my niece was born. She was 8 lbs 11 oz and 20 inches. She was alert and eager to eat. My sister-in-law (SIL) was fine, but exhausted.

I am proud of my SIL. She was induced for a medical reason and she fought hard to have as natural a birth as possible. Of course, induction makes things harder because a woman's body isn't ready. Of course she went to the hospital. They monitored her in every way and things moved slowly. She wasn't allowed to eat except gelatin and ice chips.

Things moved along and her body wasn't quite as ready as my niece was to be born. More augmentation was needed. An epidural brought the process to a head and my niece was born vaginally.

My SIL did sooooo well during her contractions. She did so well the entire time. It was the first time I have seen birth (in person) from that perspective - the one supporting, not birthing. More than ever I am convinced that birth is the pinnacle of femininity and feminine power.

I am convinced that we, as women, need to claim our birthright (in every sense of the word). Our birthing needs to be respected, treasured, and guarded.

I was appalled at the words coming out of doctors and nurses as I supported my SIL. They talked flippantly  about how crazy natural birth is and how impossible it is for a woman to give birth in that manner. They talked about how God gave us drugs so we could use them (equating them with Round-Up to eradicate weeds...riiiight. Exactly.). They said these things despite the fact my SIL wanted natural birth and she was trying so hard to achieve it. Maybe they were trying to make her feel better about taking an epidural, I don't know. It felt like they just wanted her on the drugs even before it became clear what path the birth would take.

I thought we were supposed to support laboring women. I thought we were supposed to do what is best in each and every birth. Call me crunchy, but I thought there were reasons for natural birth - just like there are reasons for medical intervention! The process isn't pain - it's muscle contraction and stretching. Muscle contraction and stretching needs drugs? This implies every time we workout to failure, we need narcotics.

Wait, what?

But this is the logic.

It ignores the gifts this process gives women and babies. It ignores the millennia behind this process. It ignores the fact this is the supreme moment of feminine power and takes it away from us.

Sorry. No. I don't accept that.

I am so proud of my SIL - all the work she did. She was so good through the process. I am so glad she got her vaginal birth. I knew she could do it. I knew she would do it. After all, that is what our bodies were made for.

Happy Birthday Baby! A First Year Retrospective

It's been a year. I've been a mom for a year. It seems crazy. I mean, I feel like yesterday I gave birth (Okay, well maybe not yesterday. You know, I can sit down comfortably and I'm not using a sitz bath...thank GOD!) and now Kiddo is threatening to walk!

My smooshy newborn love

It's pretty wild that a year go, Kiddo was a red, smoosh-faced sleepy, poopy, floppy newborn. This is especially wild considering that now he has some words, plays jokes, chases, laughs, sings, and dances (with help). It's crazy that he can climb up and down stairs, pets Java the Cat when he's sleepy, and cuddles his stuffed animals that he makes babble. It's crazy that he poses for pictures.

It's been a crazy year. Our family has suffered a lot during Kiddo's first year of life. We've experienced tremendous financial hardship (and we're still working to remove that burden). We sacrificed independence and pride and moved in with my parents. I underwent a lot of personal exploration and development, which also forced a lot of issues within my marriage which had been quietly festering. These things forced Christian to confront his choice of profession (and the resulting difficulties), as well as his role as husband and father.

My active charming 1 year wonder

Meanwhile, Kiddo was largely unaware of these things. He, despite everything, grew and even thrived. Everywhere we go, people comment on his charming nature. They adore his sweet smiles, waves, singing, and even his more spectacular antics (more about those in subsequent posts).

While this year has been difficult, it was also full of joy, wonder, and laughter. Kiddo is an amazing and unusual kid who prefers vegetables to fruit, syncopated rhythms, and entertaining anyone who is wiling to watch him for longer than 2 seconds. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Happy Birthday Baby! We love you so much.

Baby-Led Weaning: An Alien Update

The self feeding/eating solids thing is going reasonably well except for a few little bits...

1. I hate the mess. I really do. I hate having to clean him up. I haven't mastered it yet. Kiddo gets goo in his legs' fat folds, under his butt, down his shirt, and on every piece of furniture in a 3 foot radius. On spectacular days, his arms are covered in a thick layer of food which extends to his torso, chin, mouth, and of course his hair.  I'd rather Kiddo eat naked and then hose him off which doesn't work at this point (unfortunately!). For now I try to keep the messiness to a minimum and at night before his bath. This is marginally practical.
2. Sometimes I forget to plan his meals. I am so used to him nursing all the time, I forget he needs something else and I end up scrambling at the last minute. It makes me feel guilty - like I'm neglecting him and therefore I'm an unfit mother.
3. Kiddo doesn't like "baby foods." He likes adult foods with spices and herbs and oil. This means he no longer eats plain anything. He just plays with plain food leaving it all around him in a 3 foot radius. This means I have to be a little more conscious about his food and making it tasty...which I am sooo good at! *rolls eyes*

So what does he like?

• Grandma's red sauce
• Tomatoes - plain, unripe, doesn't matter. He LURVES them.
• Pasta - all kinds
• Spanish rice
• Fried rice
• Sweet potato
• White beans (in things or herbed up)
• Carrots
• Garlic (in things of course)
• Dal (lentils)
• Refried beans
• Pinto beans
• Black beans
• Red beans (sensing a trend?)
• Applesauce
• Banana
• Bean cakes
• Multigrain pancakes
• Peas
• Ground turkey
• Salmon
• Watermelon
• Peaches
• Plums
• And fresh Cheerios

white bean, carrot, and garlic cakes - yum!

Things he isn't crazy about

• Corn
• Zucchini
• Broccoli (though if I flavored it, he might like it again)
• White potatoes
• Green beans
• Old Cheerios (sitting in the travel case too long?)
• Strawberries (though it may have changed)

Things he drools over from afar:

• Gelato
• Ranch dressing
• Yogurt
• Kale salad
• Green salad
• Anything brightly colored or unusual (in texture or shape)

Things we're getting ready to try:

• New recipes from BLW sites (veggie cakes, muffins etc)
• More green or root veggies with herbs and spices(I want him to like vegetables dang it!)
• Chicken (canned without salt if I can find it)
• Tuna (canned without salt if I can find it)
• Scrambled egg
• Bell pepper (roasted?)
• Mushrooms
• Fresh fruit dipped in plain yogurt

I am determined to get better at this feeding thing. Having declared it, I'm sure we're bound for success.

What success have you had with transitioning to solids? Favorite recipes? Favorite plain foods? Leave a comment below!

One High Needs Baby

High needs. Sensitive. Active.

These are words that describe Kiddo, along with observant, curious, social, playful, bright, and sweet.

But the first three, they dictate our parenting style.

Kiddo needs to be cuddled. He needs to move.  He doesn't sleep as long as other babies. He eats waaaay more often than most kids. He wakes up in the middle of the night wanting to play...pretty much every night at least once. Even if he doesn't, he rolls around like he's fighting off rabid monkeys.

He needs novelty in his toys. He needs distractions. Kiddo needs to be held.

To outsiders they see how social he is. They see his smile and think he's perfect all the time. I mean, he does let almost anyone hold him so...

Yeah. No.

Kiddo needs a LOT of extra attention. But people don't see that. So they think I shouldn't need to carry him all the time. They think we shouldn't need to bedshare. Except those attachment parenting strategies are what cause him to be so sweet.

I could ignore Kiddo's cries. I could leave him alone in the pack n play. I could let him wail for hours. And he would. I could do that and he would become an anxious, sad, distant little boy.

But I don't.

I say this so you know why today was rough. Last night no one slept. Kiddo tossed and turned. He wailed off and on until we gave him some baby ibuprofen. And this morning? Constant whimpering. He wouldn't sit in his highchair. He didn't want to play by himself. He only wanted to cuddle. Then he didn't want to stay in my lap but wanted to be on the floor gripping my leg. Needless to say, I couldn't do my workout at all (which lately has only been possible with someone watching him or by taking a 10 minute cuddle break). Instead I wore him in a front carry walking to the elementary school and back.

Writing? Ha. I can barely get meals together today. These are the days when peeing is a luxury. I have more of these days than not. Every baby has moments like this, but weeks on end means you have one high need kid.

I have heard it ends. I'm looking forward to that.