WRITTEN ON OCT. 1, 2009

Two nights ago I did something I never thought I woiuld do. I put my 17 month old co-sleeping, breastfed, feed-on-demand firstborn baby in his crib. It was a little after 4 am and he had been up all night, crying to nurse (we’re in the middle of weaning) and having temper tantrums. These nighttime jags have been going on for well over 3 weeks now, every night. ALLL night. We had been losing so much sleep it was ridiculous. What was strange was that even when he was a newborn we never had troubles at night with Jack-Evan. He’s always been the perfect sleeper, never even crying a bit at night!

Something had to give.

And give it did. You can read about the entire experience here. But if you’re just browsing and don’t care to read deeper, here’s the short form - my son is weaning since I’m pregnant with #2 and began to dry up. Daytime weaning is pretty much done, but night time weaning is a booger. He’s been waking up every 15 minutes begging to nurse. After a 3 hour final “battle” I picked him up, walked into his room, put him in his crib at 4:15 am (two nights ago), and there he stayed until 8:30 am. Cry? Oh yes. He howled like a pack of wolves under a full moon for 2 whole hours.  I cried about that long too.

But as I said, something had to give.

Yesterday morning, upon gathering my very-happy-to-see-mommy son from his crib, I knew that our family situation was about to change forever. Co-sleeping was never something I planned to last permanently (heaven forbid we still co-sleep in high school!), but still, he’s only 17 months old now. He’s still my baby…my first born…my current only. My heart.

Yet it was time. He was no longer happy in our big king size bed. He was getting very little sleep, Mommy was getting very little sleep, and poor Daddy (who gets up at 5 am for work) was the most unfortunate of all of us. My mommy instincts told me it was time to move on in life and that Jack-Evan was ready for his own space.

By himself.

When my husband Kevin arrived home from work last night, I had a talk with him over dinner about the changes that needed to take place. He was completely on board with it all (especially since it meant he would get a full nights rest again soon).  Plus we both hated to see our little boy so unhappy!

Later on, when it was time for bed, we gathered Jack-Evan up, gave him his bath, brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, read him a story….

Then laid him in “Jack’s new bed!”. We also handed him the “new NU NU” (what we call a bottle of milk…since Jack-Evan called nursing “nu nu”).

Beside his crib was a blow up mattress and my own pillow where I planned to sleep (for at least a week).

Just as I thought, Jack-Evan threw a huge tantrum. But contrary to my other thought, this one only lasted 30 minutes! As I lay there on the floor in the dim Winnie-The-Pooh nightlight glow, I ignored my screaming son, with just an occasional ”Mommy’s here, Mommy loves you” to reassure him he wasn’t alone. It was hard, but at least with each passing minute I knew we were marching towards a new stage in life.

Finally the room grew quiet, with the exception of a fan we always have going for “white noise”. It was only 30 minutes into this new lifestyle change…and he was already asleep.

It took me a good 2 more hours to fall asleep. Afterall, having slept 17 months snuggled close to my child and the 9 months before that with my child snuggled inside of me, things seemed a bit odd.  But I finally fell asleep.

This morning as the 8 am sunlight streamed into the room, I heard a tiny “Mama? Maaaama?”. I turned over and there he was, looking at me through the bars of his crib.  Awake and happy.  I realized with a start that he had slept the entire night without waking.

My instincts were right….It was time for change, and we had now survived the first full night of the transition.

WRITTEN ON SEPT. 30, 2009

Well.  I did it.

I never thought I would.  But I did.

I just. couldn’t. take. it. a.n.y.m.o.r.e.!

Last night was the worst night we’ve had since Jack-Evan was born.  Even through his 2 colds and the reflux when he was tiny, we didn’t have nights like this.

It all started out normal.  Well, about as normal as any night this month has been.  Sometime between 9 and 10 pm, our normal bedtime, we prepared for bed and laid down with Jack-Evan.  For the 5th night in a row I refused to let him nurse before falling asleep….and ohhhh what a howl he let out.  It had to be the mother of all temper tantrums.

Finally, I’m not sure how, but he managed to fall asleep, as did both of us.

And all was quiet as a mouse…until 1 am.

That’s when he woke up for the first time.  After refusing him “nu nu” (his word for nursing) yet again, he then refused to sleep.  For the next 3 hours we battled in between snatches of sleep here and there.  He wouldn’t accept anything else, not his sippy cup, no water, no bottle, no milk.  He wanted his NU NU and nothing else would satisfy.  At no point did we get more than 5 minutes of sleep at a time last night.

Mommy just wanted sleep and no more sore bosoms.

Battling between my intuition and my logic, I refused to let him get on up to “play”.  After all, wouldn’t that be considered “rewarding” him for waking up and throwing temper tantrums?  I remembered all of the “words of advice” I’d read over the years about how you should hold your child, rock him, sing songs, comfort him, and show him how much he’s loved - and POOF!  - all would be well.

Weeeellll…all was not well.

My son is not one for basic comforting when he’s upset.  Touching him during a tantrum or howling mode only makes him angry.  Rocking will not suffice because that involves touching.  And singing sweet soothing songs?  Fuggitaboooutit!  Any sound that came out of my mouth, at any point, made him scream at 500 decibels louder than my own voice was.

So there we were, mom & son, battling in a huge king size bed in the dark, catching short snatches of sleep here and there.  I would lay him down in the middle, he would pop back up.  I would pull my shirt down, he would try to pull it back up yelling NU NU!!! at the top of his lungs.  He would pound my chest, I would hold his hands and lay him back down.  Back up he popped.  A few times he climbed on Daddy, hoping Daddy would wake up and force Mommy to comply to his wishes.

Daddy woke up, opened one eye, turned over and pulled the covers over his head.  But that’s about it.

By 4:15 am I had about all my frazzled mommy nerves could take.  And I did it.  Something I never in a million years thought that I, as a semi-attachment, breast-feeding, co-sleeping, easy going, baby-wearing parent, would do.

I picked up him, walked to his room, placed him in his crib, said goodnight, turned around….and walked out.

As I laid down, the house reverberated with my poor little son’s pitiful howls.  I knew he was safe.  I knew there was no danger.  Yet my heart about gave out on me.  Never in my life had I thought I’d be on a mission to just let him “cry it out”.  My mind raged with thoughts of scarring my son for life because of what I had just done.  Would he ever forgive me?  Would this ruin any chances of him ever living a normal existence?  Would he end up in therapy one day uttering to his psychologist from a couch, “Why yes, there was this one horrific moment in my childhood when it all started…”

But that’s exactly what I did.   I just let him cry it out.   As I pulled the covers over my head, I half dozed for the next 2 hours half while listening to my firstborn’s wails.  The wails of a 17 month old child who had never slept a night further than 6 inches from me. Nevermind that Jack-Evan’s room door is only 18 inches perpendicular from ours.  At least Kevin was able finally able to get an hours rest before heading off to work, considering that Jack was now crying in another room instead of directly into his Dad’s right ear.

Finally, by 6:30 am, I suddenly realized the house was quiet.  Slowly I crept out of bed, tiptoeing, lest any small floor creak would send Jack-Evan into banshee scream mode again.  Peeking out of our room door and into his, I saw his little tiny tired frame, sitting up on his pillow, staring out the window.  He was, at least, quiet now.

I crept back to bed and laid down, falling asleep until 8:30 am when I heard a tiny voice quietly utter “Mum Mum?”.  I hopped up, ran into the room to my baby, picked him up and enjoyed a 5 minute bear hug from his tiny arms.

I could sense a new era was already dawning in our development as a family.  It was a change I wasn’t emotionally prepared for, yet I had always known the day would eventually come.  My gut instinct let me know it’s finally time.

Tonight, we begin a new bedtime routine, one which involves separate beds…and separate rooms.

WRITTEN ON SEPT. 29, 2009

The past month has been horrendous!  We’ve been trying to wean Jack-Evan from daytime breastfeeding since the beginning of September. He’s nearly 17 months old now, and although I had planned to go longer, my body is just giving out.  Since we learned of baby #2 a couple weeks ago (Sept. 15), I’ve also begun weaning him from nighttime feedings (we co-sleep). It’s just not in me to produce enough energy to make a new baby and to keep nursing a toddler. I’m giving out…drying up…withering away. Or at least, well, it feels like that. Plus it’s beginning to hurt.

The daytime weaning is semi “ok”. Jack still cries a bit when I deny him, but not as loud or as often anymore as he did in the beginning.  A few weeks ago, you would have thought the world just ended based on the howl he would let out upon hearing “no!”.   Now, however, it’s the night time that we’re having troubles with. For the past few weeks, Jack-Evan has been waking up more than 4 times per night - every night! - crying for “Nu Nu” (his word for nursing).  Of course, when I deny him, it gets reeeealllly bad.   Then he’s up, trying to crawl over the king size bed, bopping his poor daddy in the nose, and refusing to go to sleep.  He can’t be comforted, he can’t be consoled, he won’t be touched.  All he wants is his nu-nu, and he can’t understand why I’m no longer giving in…especially since he’s demand fed his whole life.

I’m just tired.  Kevin’s tired (he gets up at 5 am to head to work).

Jack-Evan is tired.

Something has got to be done.

Soon.

Whew.

There comes a time when all parents throw up their hands and feel like running, screaming, naked through the night.

Who knew my time would come only 16 months after giving birth to this perfect, quiet, beautiful angel??

Jack-Evan, over the past 2 months, has finely tuned the art of the temper tantrum.  He’s in his terrible two’s - and not even 2 yet!  Sometimes I can’t blame the poor fellow though.  Growing up is hard to do.  After all, he is just learning to walk now so his physical abilities have yet to catch up with his desires (crawling just does NOT cut it in the speed department anymore).  He’s also testing out all of his new found skills, and sometimes they find him instead, such as when he attempts to unbuckle his seatbeat but just. can’t. mash. it hard enough. (Cue high pitched scream). And woe forbid should Mommy take 2.1 extra seconds to change a diaper or wash a face or arrive at his side. (Cue 6 more high pitched screams.)

It seems like my whole life right now is one giant scream and tantrum.  Every 5 minutes it’s something else.  Just tonight, after Jack completely melted during my attempt to wash his face, I asked him, “Why on earth can’t you just be normal for one day?!”  Then I remembered (for the 50th time), that he WAS being normal.  Normal for a toddler that is.  (Cue high pitched scream…from Mommy). Frustration and lack of communication ability rules his life right now.  Earlier today he was so mad, he literally turned red during his tantrum, had both fists closed in a tight ball, and was shaking….HARD.  It was quite a new addition to his tantrum repretoire and I hope he doesn’t remember to do it again tomorrow!  Thankfully he didn’t shoot his head backward at rocket speed like he normally does during a tantrum.  Just as long as he doesn’t connect the turning red / fist balled up / head thrown back dots, we may survive this stage.  I suppose his brain is just so active now that it carries him much further than his physical abilities allow him to truly go.   He understand what we say to him, yet when he tries to convey to us what he is thinking, or when he tries to do normal “adult” things,  it just doesn’t quite work the same way.  (Cue another high pitched scream). It makes me wish like crazy I would have taught him sign language the moment he left the birth canal.

Thankfully, I am noticing more words erupting each day.  He currently says: Mama, Mom, Hey, DaDa, Papa, Dog, Duck, Juice, Bubba (my uncle), Nurse (our word for breastfeeding), Go, I love you, Stop, No, and Yes.   He has said “Hey Mama” and “Hey Dada” and “I love mama / dada” but other than that he hasn’t put 2 words together yet.  There may be some more individual words, but I can’t think of them at the moment.  Within the past 2 weeks I’ve also noticed him becoming more adept at pointing at something when he wants to communicate.  I really do enjoy this new stage we’re entering now that each day means we communicate better and better.  It’s just so heartwarming to say various long things to him and have him understand completely what we have said!   It still amazes me when I ask him to do something he’ll go do it without any physical prompting (Go find your truck, Where is your duck?  Get your stroller and we’ll go for a walk!, It’s time to eat, Papa is coming in the door, etc).

And mentioning trucks and strollers!  Whew.  Besides temper tantrums, he is one active little boy.  He hardly ever stops to rest, unless it’s to climb up in my lap and ask with pleading eyes “Nur??  Nur??”  (Nurse).  I’ve been trying to wean him from daytime nursing for the past 2 weeks, so that is taking a toil on Jack as well.  (Cue extremely loooong high pitched, totally devastated scream). Otherwise, he’s always on the go, pushing something, pulling something, and climbing.  He doesn’t care for TV much, unless he’s the one pushing the buttons (he’ll stand in front of the TV and change channels all day if we let him!  He’s obsessed with pushing buttons!  Both on the remote and on the TV front).   That’s mostly due to the fact that we don’t watch much TV though.  I do hope he becomes interested in Seseme Street or Sid the Science Kid sooner or later.  He does enjoy Mister Rogers and will almost sit through an entire show, but unfortunately our PBS took it off the air! (Cue extremely high pitched scream from Mommy).

All in all, Jack-Evan is coming into his own little personality with the dawning of each new day.  He’s a very vocal, extremely strong-willed little person who believes he’s 10 feet tall - and becomes easily frustrated when the world shows him he isn’t.  He adores animals, meeting new people, and impressing the ladies.  He’ll do anything for a cheer & handclap, tends to be shy around groups of kids his own age (but loves one-on-one time), and is determined to make it on his own in this big, wide world.  However, his biggest confidence boost seems to come when Mommy is close by cheering him on, so as long as Mommy is waiting in the wing when it’s finally time to snuggle and nap, the world is a fine place to live.

But enough with the temper tantrums.  Those can go ASAP.

( Yeh, right, who am I kidding?  Welcome to parenthood….Tantrums and all.)

———————————–

Note:  This was written 3 days ago and I just remembered it was in my draft folder.  Would you believe that since then, a miracle seems to have happened!  Thursday morning, I felt like I woke up in an alternate universe.  Surely my real family was desperately searching for me somewhere! See… Not only did Jack-Evan make it through 2 full meals that day using very polite manners (AND without throwing anything on the floor) but he made it all day with only one tantrum!  Perhaps God does feel pity for haggard and harried Moms after all, because he certainly has been smiling down on me lately. haha!

Thank you all for the well wishes and congratulations on my last post about baby #2!

We’re definitely excited.  My first doctor’s appointment isn’t until October 6, so I don’t have an official due date yet.  Sometime next May seems to be a good guesstimate though, as we first learned about the pregnancy with Jack-Evan in early September as well (2007).  My LMP this time was in early August (it was July 31 with Jack).  So the timing is exactly the same from what I can tell.

By the time this baby arrives, Jack-Evan will be 24 months old.  Two years feel like a perfect age gap for siblings!  It’s what we’ve always wanted for our kids, although we’ve never “planned” it that way.  We just let what happens, happen.  So far, it’s happening nicely.

How it happened?  (Oh no, not that!)   What I mean, see, we left for Upstate New York on Sept. 9 for a week visit with my husband’s family.  I knew then that I was *almost* late, and I had the strange feeling that I might be pregnant.  I let Kevin in on it a day or so before we returned to South Carolina.  Well, *it* never came, and by the time we finished the 20 hour car trip back home on Tuesday, Sept. 15, we were so anxious that Kevin headed to Walgreens that night to pick up a pregnancy test (at 9:30 nonetheless!  Bless his heart!).

Well, Kevin started some popcorn whilst I took the test (with Jack-Evan playing at my feet, of course.  No privacy for poor Mommy.)

One blue line appeared immediately, but the next line didn’t show up.  My heart sunk.  (Kerplunk).  Oh well.  Not pregnant, I thought. No big deal, right? (Wrong, I was devastated)

I put the test down, stood up, sighed, casually picked up the box and noticed that the line that had appeared immediately was the “yes, my dear, you definitely are pregnant” line.  I grabbed the test, and ’shore nuff, the 2nd “control” line was now coming in strong.

I seriously started shaking.  I mean, 23 seconds ago I was disappointed that I wasn’t pregnant.  Now that I WAS, here I am, shaking in fear like a leaf in October.  I yelled out to Kevin, “Are you watching wrestling???” (a throw back to what he was doing the night I told him about the pregnancy with our #1,  Jack-Evan).  He said, “Ummm…nooo.” Then he ran into the bathroom and asked “Why???”.  I silently showed him the test.  Of course his next words were “Are you sure?!”   Then he started sniffling his nice, sweet man-tears.  He was crying and I was scared to death.

He was far more excited than I was at that moment.  And I wasn’t quite sure how to articulate anything I was feeling to him.

I’m not sure why fear gripped me so hard during those few seconds.  I suppose it was the shock.  Well, “shock” not in a sense that I wasn’t expecting the outcome (I was and had thought so for a week), but “shock” as in “Wow, this IS reality and my life is about to change yet again.”  The deep fear, I suppose, may have also come from the fact that since this is my 2nd time around, I KNOW all of the pain I will endure and the trials.  My fears during pregnancy #1 were mainly shadow fears, the kind where I was so new at it that once something happened, it was over and done with. I could easily pass off all of those fears as pretty much “unfounded” for the most part.  But now, I DO know how terrible contractions & labor & crowning feels.  I DO know how my body may be reacting throughout this pregnancy.  And now I have 8 months in which to anticipate everything I KNOW will happen.  Tiredness, numerous needle pokes, mind-numbing doctor visits, and excrutiating pain - it’s all very real, and the memories of my last pregnancy woes all came crashing down on my harder than a kamikaze fighter.

Also, the thought of change was part of it too.  Here we are, settled into our routines.  Jack-Evan is my little star, my main squeeze, my little hambone that makes me laugh during the quieter moments when he’s not erupting into one of his famous temper tantrums.  He’s my little poopie head, you know.  My “Tooter” (as we usually call him! He answers to that better than “Jack”!).  Having another child is not just something that is a part of mine and Kevin’s life - it will also change Jack’s life forever.  Our decision to expand our family will impact him, and he doesn’t even know it yet.  His life will change.  Our lives will change.  Routines will change.  We will have to yet again find a new “normal”.

So anyway, the reaction I had that night was so deep that Kevin even half-jokingly accused me of not being excited and happy.  Perhaps it was the look of blatant fear in my eyes? Or maybe it was because I wasn’t joining him in the happy dance he was doing with Jack-Evan.  I was just standing there, frozen, with a bajillion thoughts erupting in my mind.  Of course I was excited…. in my head.  In my head, I desparately wanted another child.  Being an “only child” (and hating it my whole life!), my highest goal in family planning was to have at least 4 children.  But my logical thoughts and dreams for the future took backseat to the terribly deep feelings of dread that my body dived into that night.   It was just pure, raw emotion that swept over me.  I would have never ever expected to feel that way!  And I’m almost ashamed to admit it for fear that I would be perceived as a terrible mother!  I mean, only mothers who hate children and never want more, feel their hearts sink to China upon learning of another pregnancy…..right?  Well, at least that’s what I’ve always figured.  But nonetheless, that’s what happened to me.  I mean, I know the flip side of pregnancy too - the outcome, the beautiful baby awaiting me in the end, the joyous feelings of seeing new life arrive.  So how can I explain my primortal reaction?  I can’t.

In the week since learning of the new baby though, those initial feelings have subsided, and have been replaced by the typical excitement that washes over expectant moms.  I’ve once again found myself stopping on TLC when I catch a sniff of “A Baby Story” wafting by the airwaves.  And once again, I found my buggy pulling me haphazardly towards the pretty pink (or blue?) baby outfits that are just oooohhh so darling.   I’ve also been cleaning like mad the past few days!  Just today I shipped 4 big bags full of stuff to the Goodwill.  We’re clearning out our guest room (more like “junk” room!) to make way for either a nursery for a girl or a play room for Jack (if we have another boy).

As for prenatal care this time…..  With my 1st pregnancy, I was quite naive.  Back then, I started out the 9 month journey with the assumption that doctors knew best.  I ended with the knowledge that if you do not take control of your own pregnancy, things can (and will) turn out quite unpleasant.  So this time around, I have decided to utilize our state’s only natural “birthing center” and a midwife.  (My unpleasant experiences with prenatal care during my 1st pregnancy will probably come out in future posts, so I’ll save my ranting and raving for then.)  I’m not sure yet if I want to go with natural / waterbirth (something the center offers) or epidural at the hospital next door with this one yet, but at least I’ll have the option of what I want to do.  This time I KNOW I will be “in control”.  And that means a lot to me - expecially after having the doctor try to force pitocin into me to speed up labor at 8 CM dialated - when I did NOT need it.

Anyway, thanks again for all the well wishes!  It’s great to see I still have some loyal reader friends here.  I must be going now though.  I’m quite nauseated and dizzy….. unlike my 1st pregnancy (where the sickness totally passed me by), I have experienced morning-sickness-at-night for the past 2 weeks!  Tonight seems to be the worst.  Guess that’s what I get for staying up after midnight though, I suppose.

(Voiced by 16 month old Jack-Evan, Typed by Mommy)

Once upon a time I wasn’t here.

Then suddenly……. here I was.

Before I knew it, a whole year had passed and I had learned so much about this big, wide world.

Now I have to pass along all of my knowledge to someone else…

….because that’s just what big brothers do, I suppose.

(Voiced by 13 month old Jack-Evan, typed by Mommy)

Once upon a time, on June 2, I planted some magic beans.

After 5 days of waiting, they still were not tall enough to climb.

So, last night, mommy broke the sad news that there was no such thing as a magic bean stalk.

But I think she must have lied to me….

…because look at them today!

At this rate, I’ll be able to climb to the clouds by next Friday.

Won’t mommy be so excited when I bring her back a goose?

—————————————-

TO BE CONTINUED….

(Voiced by 13 month old Jack-Evan, typed by Mommy)

Once upon a time, I found some beans.

 I stuck them in some dirt so the birds wouldn’t eat them.  

Plus, I had heard some great stories about what happens when you plant magical beans!

I cried when I couldn’t find my beanstalk the next morning.  

Mommy mentioned I should probably water them or they will die like hers do.

Finally, on day 5…. my magic beanstalk appeared!

It wasn’t quite what I expected though.

Perhaps tomorrow, it will be tall enough to climb on?

THE END.

(Voiced by 13 month old Jack-Evan, typed by Mommy)

After I helped Daddy finish painting the house…

I put him to work building something very special for Mommy.

You see, she’s always wanted a swing.

But unfortunately, our porch is far too small for one.

We built her a large 8×8x10′ arbor instead.  It’s almost finished now!
The only thing we have left is adding the remaining banisters, and planting the grape vines.  
Then we can show it to Mommy. 

Hey…wait a minute…has anyone SEEN my mommy lately???

.

.

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ZZZZzzzzzzzzzz…….

Kevin worked til 5:30 pm today, and with a 30 minute drive
to get home, we were in a rush to get our vote in before
the South Carolina poles closed at 7:00 pm.
Thankfully, with Ribs cookin’ in the crockpot, dinner wasn’t an issue.
Once Kevin was home, we packed up and
headed over to my parents house.

My parents had voted earlier today, so they promised to watch
Jack-Evan as Kevin and I went to vote.

So…we quickly passed off the baby, a jar of baby food, and
a sippy cup of mommy milk, and headed out the door.

It was soooo dark already.  We’re still not use to the time change! 
There were reports of lines 3-4 hours long earlier
today in our area, but thankfully those seemed to
have disappeared by the time we arrived at our district’s pole.
A few of our local politicians were at the doors making
last ditch efforts polite conversation as we entered.

There were 5 voting booths set up (all of which were filled),
and only 3 people ahead of us. 
We moved pretty fast into our stations too,
and before I knew it, I had hit the “confirm” button
finishing up my own vote. 
With pride, I smiled at Kevin as we walked out the door. 

Sans-baby, we headed off for our first bit of
alone time in 6 months to get some
FREE coffee from Starbucks and a
FREE election doughnut from Krispe Kreme.
Everyone who showed them their “I Voted” sticker
received the free treats.

Yet, the best part wasn’t the yummy doughnut or the hot coffee.
Nor was it knowing we had just taken part in a grand election.
Nor was it the knowledge that history was
about to be made in our great country.

No.  The best part of the day was sitting there with my husband,
laughing my tail off as we slugged down caffeine and dined on sugar.

Regardless of who our president is or how our next four years play out,
the best part of life is being with the people we love - those who we interact
with day to day and would give our life for. 

In the end, that’s all that matters.