remember that time

Remember that time my amazing sleeper decided that she was going to give me a few weeks of horrific sleep? Just to remind me how good I have had it? Remember that?

Remember that time that DST made my toddler wake up super early every morning, but eventually it worked itself out and she started having super duper long naps and I decided the early mornings can stick around just as long as the long naps do, too? Remember that?

Remember the time I was a walking zombie and asked my husband at 8:45 if he was ready for bed and he said he “could not go to bed that early as he had been feeling draggy at work due to getting too much sleep?” Remember that?

Remember that time I throat punched him for saying that? Remember that?

Remember the time I won the great stocking war of 2012 and bought 6 matching stockings so I will have enough for our current and future babies even though the husband thought this was stupid? Remember that?

Remember the time he said he is going to make me have 5 children just so that my stocking plan fails? Remember that?

Remember the time I decided that if it came to that, and I had more children than stockings, life would be too crazy to even think about stockings anyway? Remember that?

Remember the time that Gwen decided that rolling over and turning circles in her crib and playing with all.of.the.things.in.sight was a way better idea than falling asleep and many naps were spent trying to get her to sleep longer than actually sleeping? Remember that?

Remember the time that I discovered how difficult it is to find matching Christmas PJs in teeny sizes and toddler sizes? Remember that?

Remember the time that I dug out all of the Christmas books, DVDs and stickers on November 19th in an attempt to get my 2 year old as pumped about the holidays as I am? Remember that?

Remember the time that I was about 98% done all of my Christmas shopping by early November? Remember that?

Remember the time that I went a little crazy buying some new clothes for myself for my post baby bod? Remember that?

Remember the time that I was actually able to trade in my momiform for real person clothes more than once a week due to said shopping spree? Remember that?

Remember that time that potty training was the most annoying part of parenting so far? Remember that?

Remember that time that the husband and I got another date night just a few weeks after our last one? Remember that?

Remember the time that I had no time, energy or creativity to blog for real so I wrote some random ‘Remember that time” post? Remember that?

Happy Monday Friends.

Love, Zombie Mama

Plans

Today I had plans to write a 15(.5) month update to document my girl’s stats since we had her check up yesterday. I had plans to make a trip to Walmart to do some returns and pick up a few necessities. I had plans to do some research for work. Plans to head outside for a walk. To do some house cleaning. To make a nice dinner for my family. To do some work on the books for the business.

But then last night happened.

And as we were up every 1-1.5 hours, with a lovely stretch of awake screamy time from 2:30-5, I was reminded that my 15 month old still has the ability to take my plans and squash them right beneath her tiny little feet.

So instead of all of those wonderful, productive things I had planned for today? Instead, I will stay in my PJs all day and prop my eyelids open with toothpicks. I will wish that my pregnant tummy could stomach coffee. I will continuously wonder how it’s possible that Evalyn can shake her booty like there’s no tomorrow while I struggle to stay upright. I will let her call the shots. I will cuddle on the couch. I will watch cartoons. I will wipe a trillion gallons of snot on the sleeve of my hoodie. I will (try to) nap when she naps.

Today, thanks to the little creature who spent most of the night sprawled across my bed saying “Hi Dada. Hi Mama”? Today, I will laugh in the face of my plans. And be thankful I have the flexibility to do so.

New Every Morning: A Post About Sleep

It’s on the mind of every mom. Even when we don’t talk about it – we’re often thinking about it. You know what it is. Sleep. Or, more often, lack thereof. We generally don’t think much about sleep if we’re actually getting it.

Here’s the deal: my kid sucks at sleeping. She’s an excellent napper but her nights are inconsistent and sporadic. When she was a newborn, she slept great at night. Aside from the first 3-4 nights of her life when she had days and nights a bit mixed up, she started sleeping 4, 5, and sometimes 6 hour stretches within the first few weeks/months. When she was 3 months old, things were great – she’d go to bed around 8ish, wake up once around 3 am, and then sleep until 9 am. She rarely was up for more than 5-10 minutes. Just a quick nursing session and back down. I could handle that.

The only problem? She didn’t progressively get better as time went on. In fact, she progressively got worse. From 4-6 months, sleeping went down hill. We would have nights where we were up more times than I could keep track of. Sometimes, we’d be up for 2-3 hours at a time. This was unheard of for us. And then, even her best nights? Were crappy. By the time she was 6 months old, I would go to bed praying for just 4 hours. If she slept 5 or 6? I was in heaven. Four hours at 2 weeks postpartum feels great. Four hours at six months? Not so great. Those people I knew whose babies were sleeping 8, 10, even 12 (gasp) hours at night? I wanted to throat punch them. Okay, not really, but I was a little jealous.

She is just now starting to get better. But, I say that with a grain of salt. Because another thing I’ve learned? When they are sleeping good? DO NOT TELL ANYONE. Because the minute you do? They will prove you wrong. Just before Evalyn turned 8 months, she started sleeping 10-12 hours for a week straight. Then two weeks. Aside from 1-2 nights with a little interruption, she was sleeping good. Going to bed around 7, sleeping until 5 or 6, nursing and going back to bed until 7:30-8. She even had a few teeth pop through during this time. But then I made a mistake. I told people. And then, BAM. We were up 4 times that night. So now? I shall keep my lips sealed.

The thing is: I was the (naive) kind of mom who believed what the books and websites say. I believed that by 3 months babies will start to sleep longer stretches and that they will mostly likely be sleeping through the night by 6. Ha! Joke’s on me, I guess. Because, here we are at almost 9 months, and I can basically remember every single night that she has slept through the night because there are so few of them.

I’ve discovered that the books are wrong. I don’t know where they’re finding these babies, because from most of the discussions I’ve had with other moms? Babies aren’t sleeping through the night by 6 months. It’s not just me. And while I don’t find enjoyment in other people's misery, it does help to know that I’m not alone.

If you’re a new mom, or an expecting mom – I don’t mean to burst your bubble, and I sure do hope you’re one of the lucky ones – but I write this for the sake of honesty, and so you don’t feel discouraged if your baby isn’t sleeping. As illogical and irrational as it may be, I certainly know what it’s like to spend your nights beating yourself up, wondering what in the world you did wrong?

The answer is nothing. Although, that’s easy for me to say here in the daylight after one of our good nights, easily forgetting that I spent a good part of Saturday night in tears, asking myself the same questions. You are not alone. There are a bunch (and I mean, a bunch) of other Mamas out there who are struggling with the same things.

I’ve tried the sleep training thing. I’ve tried everything, in fact. I’m not looking for advice. While I do believe that are many things that we can do to set our kids up for good sleep habits, I have also come to believe that sometimes, sleep training is for the birds. Some kids just don’t want to do it. And? There’s only so much we, as moms, can handle. We have to do what works for us and sometimes, it’s just not worth the battle. I figure she’ll get there when she’s ready. And for now? We will do what we need to do to survive, even if that means (gasp) nursing my almost 9 month old through the night. I’ll enjoy the nights she does sleep all night. And I’ll manage to get through the ones she doesn’t. Just like I have been. Because the truth is? I’ve adjusted. On the nights she sleeps all night, I tend to wake up a few times myself or be wide awake at 5 am, because I’m used to not sleeping all night anymore. And trust me, I was a girl who needed her sleep.

Of course, there are some mornings after particularly rough nights, where I really feel like I can’t even stand up. But for the most part? It’s okay. I survive. I am still alive when daybreaks. There is a particular scripture that has become close to my heart through this season of life:  “Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lam 3: 22-23. In particular, the version that words it, “God’s mercies are new every morning” has drifted through my mind many, many times when I peel myself out of bed after a night of little sleep.

Of course, I’m sure the idea of the Lord’s mercies being new every morning wasn’t meant to relate to baby’s sleep patterns, but for me, it does. Because somehow, in the midst of the lack of sleep, I am still able to wake up every morning, wake into that baby’s room, and smile at her. And that in itself is the miracle of God’s mercy.

Two for the price of one

Let it be known that I am what some may call a bargain shopper. I know how to spot a good deal. And I get excited about good deals. Too excited, sometimes.

It seems as though my sweet daughter has inherited this trait from me. Because, although she was not shopping and purchasing something, she showed me on the weekend that she too enjoys a good deal. In this case, a “two for the price of one deal”.

Friday night was a rough night. She was up for hours straight and both Evan and I were at our wit’s end trying to figure out what to do with her. We were rocking, nursing (well, I was, not we), cuddling, bringing her in bed with us, patting her bum in the crib – you know, all those tricks.

Finally after a few hours, my mommy instinct kicked in (um – hello, why did it have to take that long?) and I thought maybe she was having trouble sleeping because of her little gummers. So, I gave her half a dose of infant tylonel, rocked her for a few minutes, sang to her, laid her in the crib (still wideeeeee eyed) and hoped for the best.

I didn’t hear her again until morning.

On Saturday morning we met up with my SIL and BIL who were in town for a hockey tournament. I told B about our night and how I was suspicious that teething was the culprit. She was playing with Eva for a while and a few minutes later kind of laughed and said, “Um, Linds. I think you are right. She has two teeth in there”.

Um, what?

Two teeth?

Where? Let me see!

Sure enough, her two bottom teeth have broken the surface and started to make their way up.

The one on her right was definitely “more through” than the other. But after last night (another rough time – this time it didn’t take quite as long for mommy instinct to show up and save the day) they are both very clearly there.

And while I feel so bad for the pain she has been going through to make this happen, I do feel like we struck lucky with getting two teeth for the price of one.

Here’s to teething. Not.

My Shrinking Baby

Last night was a difficult night. I’m talking up 5 times, no more than 1-2 hours of sleep at a time kind of difficult.

Something was clearly bothering her. She had a bad case of the screamies – which isn’t normal. Most of the time, if she has a bad night, she is just awake and wants to party. But last night? No partying for her. She was ticked.

And somewhere amidst the rocking, cuddling, gripe water, singing, bum patting, tears and other futile attempts to soothe my baby and get her back to sleep – I got frustrated and discouraged.

Now I know in my head that her rough night could have been caused by teething, a sore tummy, being too hot, being too cold, or something else or something else or something else.

But sometimes, in the thick of it, you feel like it’s your fault. Like you are doing something entirely wrong. And that’s how I felt last night.

So I woke the hubby. Scratch that. I tried to wake the hubby.

I told him I needed help. I didn’t know what was wrong with her. I didn’t know what I was doing wrong. I felt like this was my fault.

His response?

“Don’t worry Babe. She’s just a baby. She is growing and shrinking. Growing and shrinking”. And he rolled over.

Hm, okay.

Well – the growing part I was aware of. But the shrinking?

I was unaware that my baby was shrinking and that this may or may not cause her to sleep poorly. I’ll have to tuck that one away for future sleepless nights.

Needless to say, my dead-to-the-world-doesn’t-hear-a-thing-and-talks-like-crazy-in-his-sleep husband was impossible to wake up last night.

At least his shrinking baby explanation lightened my mood a bit and gave me something to (kind of) laugh about.

It Changes You

Having a baby changes you. Well, duh, of course it does. One of the ways that having a baby has changed me the most is sleep. Not just the fact that I don’t get much. But, having a baby has changed where/when/how I sleep.

***

We’ve switched sides. When I was pregnant, we considered the possibility of having to switch sides of the bed because the Dude always slept closest to the door. That was the side that E’s bassinet was going to have to go on because there wasn’t enough room on my side of the bed. And, that is the side of the bed that is closest to her room. We tried switching sides when I was pregnant for a few nights to get used to it but I couldn’t stand it. Sleeping that way felt all wrong. So we stayed on our own sides and I figured that we would just stick with it that way because really, getting up and walking around the bed to get to my girl in the middle of the night wouldn’t be that bad, right? Wrong. I laboured and gave birth to Eva on the Dude’s side of the bed and I basically haven’t moved since. I can’t even fathom having to walk the extra few steps to get to her at night. It’s torturous enough as it is.

***

Falling asleep. It used to take me f.o.r.e.v.e.r to fall asleep. Now, since my body has adjusted to getting sleep whenever it can, I basically fall asleep in less than two minutes (usually, although there are still exceptions .. like when the Dude is already asleep before me and is already snoring his face off … still haven’t conquered that one). There have been nights where the Dude says he’s coming to bed with me and the next day I ask him why he didn’t and he tells me he came in five minutes after me and I was already zonked.

***

Staying asleep. I can basically sleep through anything now when I used to be the lightest sleeper ever (except the snoring as mentioned above). It’s a little disturbing to me. Why? Because there have been nights where the Dude has gotten home, showered, had a snack, turned on the lights, gotten into bed while I dozed peacefully and did not hear a thing. My fingers are crossed that if anyone other than the Dude tried to come into the house while I was in zombieland that Nika would be my protector and would alert me. It alludes me how it’s possible for me to sleep through that yet I am awakened by the tiniest little squeak that comes from my daughter.

***

No fan. The most dramatic change is probably that I now sleep without a fan in my room! Gasp! Can you believe it? I honestly used to lay awake for hours listening to the tick tock tick tock of the clock and other little noises if I didn’t have a fan or other form of white noise to drown all of those annoying sounds out. But now? No fan. When E was a newborn and sleeping beside our bed, we didn’t want the fan blowing on her because then she would get cold and sick and blah blah blah. Over the course of those 7 weeks, I adjusted to sleeping without a fan. And when we moved her into her own room, I put my little fan in there with her so she could have the white noise and get addicted to it like her mother. The sacrifices we make! And now? I’ve yet to go purchase another little fan to replace it in my room. Miraculously the tick tock tick tock doesn’t irk me quite the same anymore.

***

Functioning with less. Obviously, I don’t get as much sleep as I used to. In fact, sometimes, I don’t get any sleep at all. Before I had E, this terrified me. It still does sometimes. I used to be a grouch pot if I got less than 10 hours of sleep. Maybe I still am and just don’t realize it? There have been many nights, especially in the early weeks, when I laid my head on my pillow and pleaded with God to help me survive the night. Because I wasn’t sure how I would. But, somehow, aside from a few mornings following really really horrible nights, I usually wake up feeling okay, sometimes even refreshed. I have learned to function (almost) normally with this new amount of sleep.

Some of my friends who don’t have kids yet tell me that they are pretty sure they won’t be able to handle the sleep deprivation. I didn’t think I would be able to, either. But I do. You just get used to it. It’s not always fun but it changes you, and you get used to it.

Why, Thank you, Eva

Dear Eva,

Thank you for the gift you gave me last night.

You see, you haven't been sleeping all that great lately. In the first days of your life you would give me a 3, 3.5, sometimes even 4 hour stretch of sleep at night. But lately, these stretches have been getting shorter and shorter. Sometimes as short as 1.25 hours.

As well, you have recently become a cluster feeding she devil in the evenings. From about 6-10 pm, you are generally either eating or screaming. Sometimes I feed you close to 12 times in this span of time. That takes a toll on a girl (and her girls).

Last night was no different. Around 8:30, the exhaustion was setting in so I climbed into my bed with you and decided I might as well lay there and read while I popped you on and off the b00b. Just before 9, when you finished eating, you finally seemed to be settled a bit. Daddy was about to run out for a minute and offered to take you in the car with him so I could have a bit of a break.

I told him he could go ahead and try, but I couldn't guarantee that in 5 minutes you wouldn't decide you wanted to have another snack attack. He said if that happened, he would just hurry home with you. So, I wished him luck, and off you went.

I decided to turn out the lights and get a bit of rest while you were gone, figuring within a half an hour you'd be back and begging for more.

The next thing I knew, I woke up and it was 11 pm. Daddy was in the kitchen on the phone so when he hung up and I called to him and said "What is she doing?" He told me you had fallen asleep as soon as you got in the carseat and you were still sleeping. This surprised me since you usually don't love your carseat. We figured we might as well not disturb you, since you'd probably wake up within the next 30 minutes to an hour to eat anyway. Then we would put you in your bed.

So, we both went back to bed and I was expecting a wake up call anytime.

And then I woke up and it was 2 am.

2 am? What?! I started to wonder if you were still alive but I could hear you snoring loudly (you get that from your Daddy) and I knew you were still cozy asleep.

Again, I just knew the wake up call would come any minute now so I laid awake for a few minutes waiting for you to stir.

But you didn't.

I shut my eyes again.

And then, I heard you stir.

I told you the wake up call would come soon.

I glanced at the clock.

It was .....

3:30!!!!!

You had slept straight from 9 pm-3:30 am. SIX AND A HALF HOURS!! And, what's even better, is that I had slept most of that time, too.

When I got you out of your seat to feed you, change you, feed you again, change you again (why must you insist on pooping as soon as the clean dipe goes on?), and feed you again ... you were much more aware and active than you normally are at the middle of the night feeding.

Oh no.

I knew I was in for it. After giving me a glorious 6.5 hour stretch, you were going to get back at me and think it was morning and want to party.

I stayed as quiet as possible, hoping not to get you too excited, re-swaddled you, picked you up and bam ...

You were asleep on my shoulder!!

What?!

I laid you down in your bassinet at 3:50, knowing full well this wouldn't last. You'd be up again in no time at all.

And then it was 6:30 a.m.

And you woke up.

I pulled you into bed with me to feed you but you farted and fell back asleep. So I laid back down. And then it was 7:45.

And you were awake for real this time.

I have no idea what came over you last night. I have no idea if this gift was a fluke but I am thankful none the less. I actually feel somewhat like a normal person this morning.

So I will relish it.

And hope for the best tonight.

Love ya, kiddo,

Mama

Sleep Deprivation at it's Finest

Before our Monkey was born, I once wrote about the Dude's crazy night time shenanigans and wondered whether or not I should be concerned with what he would say and/or do in his sleep after our baby was born.

Well, guess what?

He's not the one we need to worry about.

I am.

As it turns out, sleep deprivation and I make for a humorous combination.

Over the past few weeks, I have been compiling some of the better conversations and experiences that I have had during the wee hours of the night.

Of course, the Dude is not entirely innocent himself. There have been a number of times he has woken me up in the night just to ask me what I'm doing, to double check that I have not hidden Eva somewhere under the blankets while frantically searching for her, or to ask me if that is my leg or the baby. But, overall, I am the one guilty of strange nocturnal behavior.

The first evidence of my insanity occurred on the fifth night of my sweet baby's life. It was Sunday, we had taken her to church, had company all afternoon, and my milk had come in that day. I was an emotional wreck. My mom was still here, so around 8:30, she sent me to bed and said she would stay out in the living room with Evalyn and bring her to me when she was ready to eat. A few hours later, she opened the door to my room and woke me. I had been dreaming about my milk (I guess it was heavily on my mind) and I was also very sweaty. I sat up and said to my mom, "I can feel all the milk under my chin! Can you feel it under yours, too?" My mom then questioned whether or not she should leave the child in my care.

The next incident occurred exactly a week later. It was Sunday night again and Eva and I were in bed on our own for a few hours. The Dude plays hockey from 10:30-11:30 on Sunday nights and sometimes goes out for beer and pizza afterward. That day had been a particularly rough and fussy day for Eva so I asked him to please come home straight after, just in case it ended up being a long night for me. I went to bed as early as possible, woke up to feed her once and then woke again a while later. The clock is on his side of the bed, so I reached across, over top of him, to tip the clock towards me to see the time, and upon realizing that it was 1:40 am, thought to myself, "What a stupid jerkface. He went out even though I asked him not to". I angrily rolled back over to go to sleep. I moved my leg and felt something ... his leg. It took me a few minutes to realize that I had not even heard him come in, but yes, in fact, he was in bed and was not out at the Pizza Co.

A few nights ago, I woke in the night "feeding my baby", although I didn't quite remember getting up to get her out of her bed. A few seconds later, I realized that the object at my breast was not Evalyn, but was actually my husband's pillow. And Evalyn was crying in her bassinet. Oops.

And finally, last night we had a fussy evening which involved her either eating or screaming at all times from 6:30-9:30 pm. This made for an exhausting evening for me. The Dude was home to help most of it, but at about 8:30 he had to run out and do a few quick errands for work. Around 9 pm, the exhaustion got the best of me, so I climbed in bed with Eva, fed her again and finally she fell asleep! When the Dude got home about a half hour later, he took her out into the living room so I could get some solid sleep and said he'd bring her back in around 11:30 when she'd eat again. It wasn't until he brought her in to me for the late evening feeding that I realized I had gone to bed fully clothed. Wearing jeans. Normally, this would make me so uncomfortable that I wouldn't be able to sleep but I am pretty certain I can sleep in any situation now. In fact, when I fed her at 11:30, I was so tired that I almost considered staying the way I was and not changing into PJs. But I did.

So, looks to me like the Dude is no the one we need to worry about and it should be me wearing the security bracelet to set off an alarm if I try to take her out of the house in my sleep :)