Sweet Naps

I have done everything possible in the last hour to avoid writing a blog.

I don’t even know why.  There is NOTHING coming to my mind about what I would like to write about today.

Then I realized that I could celebrate a breakthrough last night.  Only I don’t want to jinx it.  I’ll just put it succinctly… I got some sleep last night.  And Ronan did too.  That’s all I’m going to say about it for now.

Birthday party anxiety is ramping up.  Way up.  So far, I have 14 people RSVP’d and are coming to my tiny little house.  My tiny, little, dirty house.  I’m planning on working on that today – you know, since I’m all rested up.

What does any of this have to do with the title of my blog?  I love it when Ronan is napping.  I swear, God invented naps to preserve mothers’ sanity.  I could genuflect over naps alone.

Goals for today?

  • New baby gate at Target
  • Kitchen tidied and cleaned.
  • Floors swept/mopped.
  • Living room tidied.
  • Laundry DONE!
  • Bonus goal: Clean master bathroom.
  • Bonus goal: Clean and organize baby room.

I’ll admit, my expectations for today are a little unrealistic, but why not aim high?  We’re getting the trip to Target out of the way early.

And right here, I’d like to do a little celebratory dance… just days from my son’s first birthday, we FINALLY have him paid off.  *dance*

It’s one of THOSE days.

I can’t do anything right.

I hate saying this, but I’m so tired of being a mom right now.  Ronan is getting on every single one of my nerves, and I have NO patience for him.  I can’t put him to sleep, no matter how hard I try.  I just keep getting more frustrated, and more frustrated until I have to call Brock in and get HIM to put Ronan down for a nap.

He’s being so… annoying.  He keeps pinching the hell out of me.  My whole chest and arms are covered in pinch marks.  He grabs a WHOLE fist full of flesh, and squeezes as hard as he can.  If I pull his hand away or tell him no, he gets MADDER and does it again.  Or he pulls my hair.  As hard as he can, reaches up, grabs a whole handful and yanks faster than I have the chance to stop him.  He kicks me in the stomach so hard I start to feel sick.  And by this point, I just want nothing to do with him.  I don’t care if he sleeps, cries, or stays awake until New Years, I just don’t want to have to look at him.

Shit.  Is this normal?  I just want to cry.  I don’t want to look at him.

My Entirely Unattainable Dream.

I sit here and sit here staring at a blank screen.  I do not have writers block.  When I decide to write something down, I get it out no matter what.

I sit here and sTBRonanSleepingtare at this blank screen because there are problems in my household, and I aim to write about them.  However, I know what kind of comments my writing will inspire, and I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to put up with them.  In my dreams, there is a place where people are supportive, and caring without judging, disapproving, or saying “I told you so.”  And even if the choices I’ve made as a parent seem entirely foreign and quite frankly stupid to you, I’d love you to just be able to comfort, commiserate, and care.

For one blessed week, we had sleep in our house.  A whole week went by where Ronan went to bed at night, and only woke once in the night to eat.  He didn’t scream upon waking, and he didn’t wake to play.  He slept, and I slept, and Daddy slept.  After a whole week, I thought we’d beat the battle, the demon had been slayed, and our son had finally become a good sleeper.  Better days were ahead, bad nights behind us.  That’s what I thought… what I’d hoped.

Instead, we’ve had a massive regression.  I’m not entirely sure what happened, and even though there are other people in this household that would like to lay the blame on me, I don’t think I’m the cause of the problem.  Perhaps that’s just my way of trying not to feel like I’ve messed everything up royally.  Whatever.  It’s my blog.

Ronan goes to bed around 7pm.  I say ‘around’ because we try to be very flexible and guided by his cues.  If he’s acting very tired around 6:30, we’ll put him down early.  We want to get him in bed during his sleepy time in order to get him to sleep easily.  We don’t like to let him get over-tired, which causes a battle.  This is a lesson learned the hard way.  During the day, Ronan has at least three 50 minutes naps.  Every now and then, he’ll get a 2 hours nap, which is great, but difficult to repeat.  At night, Ronan has a bath, then baby lotion, then pajamas, then a book.  His routine has been the same every night for nearly 5 months now, so he KNOWS when it’s bed time.  Usually right around the time we get the lotion on, he starts to cry.  He’s not hurting, or hungry – he’s upset.  He knows that we’re about to try to put him to sleep, and he’s mad about it.

Typically, putting him to sleep for the first time at night is easy.  I no longer nurse him to sleep, so he doesn’t have that sleep association.  We’ve worked very hard at being able to get him drowsy but still awake, and to put him down.  We can put him down in his crib, or in our bed, and he will usually fall asleep.  Sometimes it takes 3 or 4 tries, sometimes it takes 15, but we persevere.  I don’t want him to have to be rocked to sleep every single time he wakes up.

So.  The child is asleep around 7pm.  And… he wakes up around 8pm.  We go up and give him his paci, pat him on the butt a few times, and he’ll go back to sleep on his own.  Why does he wake up in the first place?  Why can’t we make it beyond that 50 minute sleep mark?  I don’t know.  However, the 8pm mark is the easy one.  It’s the 9pm mark that is the cause for distress in my home.  At 9pm, Ronan wakes up for the night.  He’s had a great 2 hour nap, THANKS MOM, and he thinks it’s time to play.  It doesn’t matter WHAT I have done to try to discourage this behavior… I can spend hours in his room rocking him, bouncing him, nursing him, laying him down in his crib, walking with him, singing to him, cursing at him, crying to him, begging him and any other number of activites trying to encourage him to stay in bed – inevitably he wears me down to the point that I can’t take him any more, and quit.  Because I’m about to lose it.

Have you ever lost it at your child?  It’s not a proud moment.  I set him down in his crib, and he starts screaming, and I walk out of the room.  I close the door behind me, and I go downstairs to try to compose myself.  Usually, I tag Brock in, because I can’t deal with him any more.  Usually, Brock gets him up because he’s not willing to get that upset over sleeping.

It’s at this point, from 9pm on,  that Ronan will not go back to sleep until after midnight.  MIDNIGHT.  From midnight on?  He wakes every 2 hours and screams to eat.

No one in my house gets sleep.  Brock has started sleeping in the guest room, which fosters feelings of unfairness – I don’t get nights in the guest room.  And then I get bitter.  Mad at dad, mad at baby, mad at me.  And I don’t know what to do to fix this.  I don’t know where we went wrong.  I hate this feeling, and I just want one good night.  JUST ONE.  Put him to bed, and he stays there.  I don’t even care about the stupid night feedings.  Wake up and eat, just QUIT SCREAMING AT ME.

I take a deep breath.

I close my eyes.

I remember that a few years from now, I will miss every moment of his babyhood.

I tell myself ‘this too shall pass.’

What more can I do?

On Friendship.

I have this post already written in my head, and it makes me sad.  It isn’t meant to be a woe-is-me situation or anything.  It’s really just the way things feel to me.

I don’t have any friends.

Yeah, I know, that’s stupid.  Mandy, you’re stupid.

You have a ton of friends on Facebook that you love keeping in touch with.  And you have all of these amazing people that you consider your friends.  Dana and Amanda are incredible.  You probably couldn’t live without Joy, or Nancy, or Nadine.  You are friends with the people you work with; you like all of them.  And Crystal?  She’s still your BFF.   She always will be.

Then what the hell am I talking about?

The thing is, I can’t remember the last time I had a friend that I could hang out with on a moments notice.   It has been years since there was someone that came over just to see me.  Someone that called me when she had a problem and needed me.  Someone that I could call just because I had a problem and needed her.  There are no shopping trips, cause we’re both stressed out and need some retail therapy.  No hugs, cause I just need a damn hug.  No one that loves Ronan as much as I do, just because he’s mine.

I’m so jealous of all of the people that I see, and their groups of amazing friends.  I am green with envy when I see Facebook pictures of the girls I knew in high school on camping trips and vacations with the best buds they’ve had since first grade.  I want so badly to have that, and yet friendships like that aren’t just made.  How does one become a best friend without being too forward, too aggressive?  Can it just happen one day?  It takes years to know someone well enough to know them inside and out, to know them as well as they know themselves.  And it hurts like hell to consider someone the very best friend that you have, and know that to them you’re actually just okay to hang out with.

I have all of these friends that are in my life because of work, or because of mututal relationships, or just because of luck.  I care about all of them, and they matter so much to me.  But I don’t have THAT friend.

And it makes me terribly lonely.  I’m surrounded by people that like me, and I’m lonely.

How to Title a Blog.

I really have no clue.  Today, I wanted to write about how I’m fighting the urge to just sit and watch all of my shows on Hulu, and ignore all other responsibilities.  (Modern Family!  Glee!  House!)  Really, does cleaning the house, showering and doing laundry sound HALF as awesome?!

Woah, sleep issues.  Ronan had a late nap yesterday.  Nanny let him go down at 5, and he slept until Brock got home at around 5:45.  He then resisted sleep until after I got home from work, nearly 11 pm.  How did he stay awake for so long?!  He never goes more than 3 hours during the day without a nap, yet he can stay up for six hours at night while fighting sleep?  I think that’s what’s known as over-exhaustion.  We’ve seen so little in the way of improvements, it’s hard to imagine anything other than the status quo.  This is our life… I heard a song yesterday by the Barenaked Ladies – “Who needs sleep, yeah, you’re never gonna get it…” – totally appropriate.

He also woke up at almost exactly 3 am, and screamed for half an hour.  He is inconsolable – wont let me hold him, wont let me rock him, wont let me nurse him; it’s utterly heartbreaking.  I sit and watch him writhe and scream with tears pouring down my face.  I have no idea what’s going on, and no idea what to do.  Ronan’s pediatrician says it’s behavioral, and he’s just throwing fits to get what he wants, to get picked up.  My gut tells me something is hurting him, and it’s tearing me apart.  If he just wanted attention or to be picked up, wouldn’t he stop ONCE HE WAS PICKED UP?  It’s time for us to go for a second opinion.  And since I’m still nursing, it’s also time for me to try some drastic moves.  Cutting out diary seems like an insurmountable task, but it’s worth a try.  If I’m not willing to quit nursing, I need to be willing to try something else that might help.  No cheese.  No butter.  No ice cream.  I might cry.