Tickled

So, a poem of mine was published!

I'm too proud to remain entirely quiet about it here. I know in the grand scheme of things (you know, the riches one can eventually earn through the craft of poetry) this is not a huge deal, but it's the first time a poem of mine has made it out into the world, and I'm thrilled about it. And the fact that the other writers featured there seem to be, like, actual poets with actual respectable other publications, makes it all the more exciting.

(edited to remove link)

Occasional Happy, Followed by Continued Grumpy

Another friend stepped in to babysit last night, a total huge and welcome favor on such short notice, and we had a lovely dinner. M was even asleep when we got home, which doesn't always happen as the bedtime routine is much harder for her without the nursing. Happy anniversary, us. Woohoo.

Then last night I dreamed that I laid an egg that had two yolks. The yolks turned into cute fuzzy ducklings that we were happy to have. We put them in the pen with our chickens and went to work for the day. By the end of the day they had grown into giant geese and had killed the chickens. We decided we had to turn them loose before they killed each other. Would it help if I mentioned here that our nice dinner last night included a discussion of our fear of having twins?

Then I dreamed I was having my picture taken for work among a big group of people, and without my permission the photographer cut my hair and gave me bangs. Uneven bangs.

Then, this morning, our Thursday babysitter announced she is quitting. A problem that can probably be solved, but annoying and sad nonetheless. Oh, also, time-consuming. See below.

Then there is the project at work that's unexpectedly kicking my ass. Why did I think I knew Illustrator? I do not know Illustrator, and everything is taking approximately 20 times longer than I thought it would.

And then there is this other project which should have been done FOUR WEEKS AGO and which I'm going to have to work on during every spare moment this weekend.

Other than that, blue skies.

Grumpy

Because tomorrow is our anniversary and our really good friends who had promised two weeks ago to babysit so we could go out apparently just forgot and scheduled a visit with other friends coming into town and now can't make it and don't really seem to see how important it was to us.

Also, because a document I modified in InDesign CS2 could not be opened in InDesign CS without an update that took almost an hour to find, download, and install, so I pretty much got no work done this evening and also didn't really have any fun.

Just Another Teenaged Mom

Some background:

Down the block from us lives a woman who is either constantly drunk or has some sort of mental illness or both. She walks up and down the block in the middle of the day. Often when I cross paths with her she has something to say, and usually it's something bizarre like a rambling joke about rocks and God. One time she told me I looked like an angel. Her name is Mary, which always makes me think of that Pearl Jam song.

More background:

I am 32 years old and am starting to notice that I, um, no longer look just like I did when I was 19.

So:

Yesterday I was returning from the park, carrying M, when we crossed paths with Mary. She stopped and staggered a little and stared up at me. You know what it is now? she said, stabbing the air in my general direction with a soda cup. I slowed down and looked at her. It's children, she said, waving the cup toward my face, conductorlike, and then, gesturing toward M, taking care of children.

I just busted out laughing. Thanks, Mary. You made my day.

Lest you mistake that for a happy ending...

M woke up at 11:30 last night all out of sorts. One thing and another: Ibuprofen (though no real symptoms of pain other than awake and cranky); yogurt; nursing. She was awake until almost 3, then nursed again at 5 and slept/nursed until 7:30.

I mean it about not talking and thinking so much about sleep any more, though. Let this be the last word on the matter: It still sucks.

Through the Night

For the past several nights M has slept from the eight o'clock hour to the five o'clock hour without waking up (or waking up only to fuss herself back to sleep within a minute), and then nursed and gone back to sleep until seven or even eight.

I had stopped believing that this would ever happen. Over the past year or so, well-meaning people, noticing my exhaustion, have said things like, I hope M starts sleeping through the night soon, and I have thought, You might as well wish that she would fly off to the moon.

But we have reached that magical point. Tthe one that coworkers and random strangers began asking about when M was (no joke) less than two months old. The one that people finally stopped asking about around the time she turned one. Not, I think, because they noticed how I seemed to want to scrape my brain out with a grapefruit spoon and wipe it on the pants of whoever popped the sleep question, but because pretty much everyone (except for a few cherished friends who are also blessed with rotten sleepers) started to assume at that point that she must have been sleeping well by then.

And it is amazing, this new development. I can't say I have gotten a ton more sleep over the past few days than during the times when we were in a good co-sleeping and night nursing groove. I've been up late drinking wine (great side benefit of night weaning, by the way) and eating goat cheese with old friends in town for the weekend, and, before that, scrambling to finish a proposal for work, and, before that, knitting like a maniac on the thick grey scarf I'm making for my husband. But if I were to go to bed at a decent hour! Just think! I could sleep for, like eight hours in a row! Uninterrupted! It could happen.

These sleep changes, and my many, many posts here on the matter (for which, forgive me. Unless you are also trying to night wean your 16-month-old and get some rest, in which case, take heart and lay in a good supply of dark roast coffee and madeleines and let me know how it goes) have made me think a lot about the overshadowing role sleep has taken in my life and identity as a parent.

For which I blame forces larger than myself. See above comment about random stranger sleep inquiries starting super early in baby's life. See also, some blogger I can't remember who wrote about how sleep is the big flashpoint for our generation of parents the way potty training was a big enormous deal for our grandparents. Also, decisions about sleep are one of those litmus tests that it seems people use to determine What Type of Parent You Are: Where does she sleep? Oh, you're still nursing? Oh, you let him cry? Etc.

But of course I'm to blame, too. It's still my inclination, when meeting another parent, to ask about sleep, to compare nap lengths. How many baby sleep books do I own? Three! I'm starting to think about what I've missed during all this obsession. What else could I be talking about? What other parts of my identity as a parent have atrophied as I've clamored for the elusive goal of spending more than four hours at a stretch with my eyes shut? Now that I am no longer so desparate for a decent rest—and even, dammit, if things go south and we end up awake at all hours again for some reason—I'm going to find that out.

9 to 5

Actually, 9:30 to 5:30, but who's counting? The only sleep intervention of the night was a 30-second period of my holding my hand on M's back when she woke up crying after about an hour of sleep at 9:30. Could be lots worse.

Maybe it is just going to suck forever.

Night 9: Down at 8:30. Asleep until 1:30. Brief pat/soothe. Awake at 5:30. Briefly back asleep after some soothing. Then up at 6 wanting milk, milk milk milk milk and not buying the whole It's still night time line at all. So I nursed her and then she fell back asleep until I woke her up at 8.

When I whined to my coworker this morning about all the recent 6 a.m. wake ups, she pointed out that if M usually goes to bed at 7 or 8 and is mostly asleep until 6, that is a pretty decent night's sleep and may be all she needs.

On the other hand, the fact that today she slept another two hours after nursing tells me that at least sometimes she needs more than the 10 hours or whatever. And those damn sleep books sure say she should be getting more than 10 hours.

Either way, though, if it were 10 straight hours, minus this 1 a.m. and 4 a.m. business, I think we would all be happier.

Also, I think I am losing my ability to evaluate what is a better or worse night of sleep, and as I think about it I realize maybe it is actually a little bit insane to try. Is it better to wake up at 1 and 4, and 5:30, but only briefly, or be solidly asleep from 11 to 3:30 then mostly awake for an hour? Would you rather wake up at 5:30 every morning, or not fall asleep until 2? Would you rather lose a finger or a toe? Would you rather eat a can of peaches in heavy syrup every day for the rest of your life, or spend 3o days wearing a wet suit?

Miserable

So, last night was bad. The usual wake-up around the time we go to bed. Then she slept untli 3:30. And then from 3:30 to 5 or so, she went back and forth between sleeping and fussing/crying at such a rate that I would just be starting to drift back asleep when she started squirming again and demanding more backrub. Ack. And then she was up at 6 wanting milk and we were out of bed by 6:30. Double ugh.

If this continues, I will lose my mind.

This seems like a good place to tell you that M is totally delightful during the day. She is learning about a zillion new words per day. My three favorites from this week: boogers (did I mention we've had a cold?); outfit (cute clothing Grandma sent); and caterpillar (as in Very Hungry. Pronounced cabbadidda.)

She is rarely cranky and often very funny. She giggles a lot and has an impressive attention span and thirst for repetition of her favorite books and songs (See caterpillar). She doesn't show evidence of being sleep-deprived—not that I can see, anyway.

However, a lot of the time I feel like I'd be a much better parent to her (more energy, creativity, attention, etc. etc.) if I could just get some more damn sleep.

Are you bored with this yet?

Night 7: Down at 8, up and fussy from 11 to 11:30, then asleep until at least 6, maybe 6:15, but then up for the day.

So that's like, six and a half hours of sleep in a row, which might be record-breaking. Somehow I feel no less exhausted, though.