Tuesday, April 3, 2012
I'm not a night person. Ask John - my pajamas may as well be called cranky pants. But I AM a morning person. I'm one of those gals that you night people find utterly annoying. Yes - I like getting my butt out of bed and starting the day. It makes me feel like I get a head start on the race...the human race. I love the blank slate the sunrise presents. And there's just something about getting half of your to do list done by noon that satisfies something deep within my soul.
Then I had Owen.
He's a morning person. And a night person. And an all day person. And he rarely blinks. And for the record, he doesn't care about to-do lists. Unless that to-do list includes bottles, the weather channel (he finds it fascinating?) and playing all day. Oh, and if that to-do list is written on paper he'll care long enough to crumple it and eat it. He likes paper. Er...eating paper.
Now, I should be grateful that he just finds me so darn entertaining that he can't bring himself to close his sweet little eyes...even for a moment. I do. But I'm tired.
"Welcome to the club!" I hear a chorus of moms of the world groggily mutter. I know, I know, my sleepiness is nothing new to the world of procreation. But I'm allowed my moment of lament over a loss of sleep. So WAKE UP and smell this post. Or don't. If you can sleep - DO! Sleep right now! I'm serious...go.
Still here? Well, I'll do my best to put you to sleep with this post to make it worth your while. But I warn you, I'm pretty darn entertaining. Riiiiight.
From the time he was born, Owen's sleeping habits have been anything but consistent. Show me a baby's whose sleeping habits are! No wait...don't. That would make me sad. Keep that tidbit to your lucky little self and go be pleasant in public to give us crankier moms a good name. I'm serious...go.
In the beginning I understand NOW that O was hungry. Indeed my cups did not runneth over. He wouldn't stay asleep for long stretches - and me (being the novice mama) just thought I had the hungriest baby in the world. And so my boobs stepped up to the palate and tried their darndest to do their duty. Until at his one month appointment he hadn't gained hardly any weight. Great. I was starving my baby. Cue feelings of being the "most horrible mother in the world." But then I met Enfamil. Best. Invention. Ever. Honestly, I mean what would I have had to do back in the day if my udders were udderly empty...get a wet nurse? Awkward! And talk about an ego killer. Thank goodness for formula.
So after we figured out that O was hungry...and successfully fulFILLED that need, I thought my ZZZZZ's would come running back like a long lost lover reunited with sweet little (or still not so little at that point) me. Nope.
The passi had become a prop. Didn't know it could do that. I had been so focused on reading about how to push Owen out my lady parts that I'd spend NO time reading about what to do with him after he was out. As such, I'd let his passi (ie: best friend) become quite the prop. Oops!
And like any good first timer - I went out in search of literary epiphanies from baby experts to teach me how to get my baby to sleep. Good thing all the books say the same thing and tell you to try one method. NOT! I went through the Baby Whisper and Healthy Sleep Habits Happy Child and a number of others. A few things worked a little, but nothing was the miracle I'd wanted. But then, at 5 months I did it. I freed Owen of his passi addiction using a combo of the Baby Whisperer's pick up put down and a little bit of crying it out. Hooray! A few (count them....2) blissfully sleep-filled nights followed. But then something invariably would throw off the groove. Guests in town, too many missed naps, and then the worst of all....
It was one of those terrible horrible no good very bad days. And moving to Australia was out of the question. Owen was fussy and I was (you guessed it) T.I.R.E.D. And to quote Taylor Swift, "It was a moment of weakness, and I said yes." No, I didn't have an affair. But I did pull that mute button...er...I mean passi out and give it back to Owen. Peace was restored instantly. He sucked...and sucked and sucked and sucked. "Just once couldn't possibly hurt" I thought to myself. Wrong! The prop was back, baby!
And so in the months since, I've had ups and downs with the passi. Most recently a new tooth and a cold have kept that passi in the picture. But lest you think me just the weakest mom on the planet (which I'm pretty sure we all think we are at some point) I must explain something about my Owen. He is not a cuddler...and the only thing that soothes him is sucking. Which leaves my mommy fix-it tool belt pretty empty...unless I have that passi.
But its hindering his sleep because the moment it falls out in the middle of the night, I have to run into his room and pop it back in. That gets old after a few times...so imagine me in the middle of the night going in his room for the 20th time. Wait, don't picture that. Not a pretty sight. I don't even like picturing middle of the night exhausted cranky Kim. haha
Now, I bet you'd like this post to have a resolution, huh? I know I would! But I'm still in the process of helping Owen learn to sleep. And while writing this post, my little guy woke up and needed a bottle. And there, in his room, while feeding him a bottle to the sound of one amazing rain storm outside...I've come to this realization. I might inherently be a morning person, but maybe it's time I also become a night person, and an all day person, and rarely blink. Because these crazy, TIRING, patience testing, hilarious, frustrating, wonderful moments won't be here forever. Sure motherhood is insanely hard. But I'm going to do my best to enjoy every moment...no matter what the time of day.
And with that, it's time to put on my PJ's and catch a few hours of sleep before little man decides he just can't get enough of me and wants to wake up and play. You see, I'm Owen's mom. And that makes me a pretty big deal.
....especially to him.
Posted by Kim Sigety at 11:36 PM