Tips to help you improve your shape in the post-partum period:
After 9 months of waiting patiently and doing all the right things to maintain a healthy pregnancy, you are finally holding your precious baby. Whether your labour was long or short, challenging or easier than you expected, you are probably tired and relieved that your pregnancy is over and labour behind you.
After a few hours of cuddling, feeding and falling in love with your baby, your thoughts turn to a nice long shower to rejuvenate you and ease the muscle soreness you are experiencing after giving birth. You pad your way to the bathroom, either with the support of a partner, or the wall (because your legs are still shaky and tired) and you undress to get in the shower. When you look up and see yourself in the mirror for the first time, you are shocked. For 9 months you had a growing, but firm tummy, and although all the books tell you that you can expect to look 4-5 months pregnant after the birth of your baby, you really aren’t prepared for what that actually looks like: the saggy, baggy elephant. The taunt skin that once enveloped your baby now resembles a bowl of Jell-O, and perhaps you notice that you have a few stretch marks or badges of honor, as I like to call them. Later, as you emerge from the shower feeling refreshed and relaxed, you make a secret pact with yourself to lose the weight, tone your tummy and fit back into your jeans in record time.
Before you get started on your new post-partum workout routine, there are a few things you should keep in mind:
Set realistic expectations:
As determined as you are to lose your baby weight, remember that it is better and safer to lose weight gradually. You can expect to lose about 10-15 lbs. in the early days after giving birth (this weight loss is represented by baby’s birth weight, placenta, amniotic fluid, uterus and water retention), but it takes most women 9 months to 1 year to regain their shape and return to their pre-pregnancy weight. Remember that this is just an average; some women may take less time, and others, longer. It took you nine months to grow that big, beautiful belly, it won’t disappear overnight.
Eat Small Frequent Meals:
It is important to continue to eat a healthy, balanced diet. Eating a variety of fresh fruits, vegetables, grains and meats will ensure that you get the appropriate vitamins and minerals needed in your daily routine. Try to avoid overly processed foods, as they are higher in fat content and may make you feel more tired. If you are a breastfeeding mom, you will need to increase your caloric intake by up to 500 cal/day (more if you are also exercising regularly). Your body is working hard all day long producing milk for your baby. Also by having a lot of variety in your diet, you introduce new flavours and tastes to your baby through your breastmilk. This may make the introduction of solid foods (after 6 months of age) easier as your baby will have already experienced a wide variety of flavours.
Get Sleep:
Sometimes that is easier said than done! However, it is important to realize that 1) your body will store fat for longer periods of time if you are not well rested and 2) without adequate sleep you may not have the energy to exercise on a regular basis. Also, when we’re tired we are more likely to reach for junk food and caffeine to boost our energy, which in the short term is great, but counter-productive in the long run. So, although you may have heard it 100 times before, “sleep when your baby is sleeping”. Cat naps during the day will benefit you.
Stay Hydrated:
Drink water. This is especially important for breastfeeding moms who need to ensure that they are drinking enough fluids so that they can make breastmilk. Also, it’s possible to mistake thirst for hunger, so reach for the glass of water before reaching for a cookie.
Start Slowly:
It may take you several weeks before you are ready to workout again, and even when you are ready, it’s important to take it easy. FITMOM™ recommends that you complete your 6 week post-partum check-up prior to starting a new exercise routine. Light walking, pelvic tilts, kegal exercises and gentle stretching are things you can do in the early post-partum period. When you are ready to increase your intensity, remember that the hormone relaxin can be found up to 9 months post-partum. This means that joints are still loose and injuries are still possible. Injury prevention is top of mind for FITMOM™ coaches so you can rest assured that modifications, postural reminders and safety checks are part of the FITMOM™ experience. Go slow, listen to your body and modify your activities to meet your current physical conditioning. In time, as you build strength and stamina you will find that you can do more and last longer.
Treat yourself:
It can be very frustrating and un-motivating to stand in front of your closet and feel as if you have nothing to wear. Most of us are eager to toss the maternity pants aside and yearn to put on pants with real buttons but your old wardrobe may still be out of reach for a few months. Take the time to invest in 1-2 pants and tops that fit your current body and shape. It will make you feel better, boost your self-confidence and have you feeling like a yummy mummy in no time. You do a lot for your family, so it’s important (and recommended) that you do something nice for yourself.
The last tip is to relax, have fun, and enjoy the ride. You are taking all the right steps towards leading a healthier and more active lifestyle. The pants will come in time!
Showing posts with label mommy chores. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mommy chores. Show all posts
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Did someone say spa?
I decided to take a little time for me.
A time to unwind, recharge, refuel, pamper, polish and exfoliate.
I made this decision after learning that Big Daddy was going to be gone all day on Sunday in a golf tournament, leaving me to spend another full, jam packed day on my own vs the tag team approach that weekends normally allow for.
Before Little joined the family I was a 'regular' at my local spa, visiting every 6-12 weeks for facials, or massages, pedicures, hot stone massage, body wraps and the like. I love the spa experience: donning the robes, drinking the 'specialty teas' and pouring water filled with fruit, cucumbers, lemons or other treats into goblets while someone takes the time to look after me and tend to my needs. Over a period of time I began to view the treatments as necessary, in order to maintian my youthful appearance, rather then viewing them as a treat. Sadly, during my pregnancy with Little and the post partum period there has been a tremendous time lapse since my last visit. 1 year to be exact. So when I made the phone call to book my appointment I did so without an ounce of mommy guilt.
It felt so good to make the call. In fact, once the call was placed and the treatments and times were booked a long time staff member greeted me over the phone. "Jennifer, it's Heather! It's been a while. I look forward to seeing you."
'Hi Heather, yes it has been a while. Too long in fact. I am looking forward to coming in. See you Saturday!".
When I hung up the phone, I felt a little bit like Norm from 'Cheers' as he took his regular seat at the bar. Moments after the appointment was booked a quick text to Big Daddy told him that I was escaping the mad house for a few hours and he was in charge.
When I woke up that morning I worked diligently to ensure all of the morning chores were done. The kids were fed breakfast, diapers were changed, the kitchen was tidied (knowing that if I left it for Big Daddy, I would only be faced with more dishes. He is many things, but a multi-tasker when children are outnumbering him, he is not), and I showered and began to mentally prepare for my treatments. Today's menu was a massage + pedicure. Delicious!
Moments before heading out the door I confer with Big Daddy to rattle off the last minute instructions for Little. The conversation included me explaining the appropriate time for his morning nap (knowing it would be delayed because Mommy and her Magic Boobies were otherwise engaged); providing suggestions for a mid morning snack, and what to serve for lunch. It was simple. So I thought. I explained that Cheerios & pear were a great idea for a morning snack and that the Couscous & Sweet pepper dish I made the day before were in a freezer tray, not yet having a chance to bag it. Before I turned to leave I asked Big Daddy if he had any questions and if he knew where to find everything. He said he was good, and that he had it all under control so I turned and got the hell out of Dodge.
I ran out the door and sjumped into the car, and noticed how brightly the sun was shinning. I put down the windows, cranked the tunes and I am pretty sure the tires left skid marks on the road as I peeled off down the street.
I arrived at my destination with time to spare and enjoyed reading trashy magazines before I was seated for my treatments. Two and a half blissful hours later, I emerge a new woman. I walk back to the car and begin to wonder what fun we can have in the afternoon.
As I walk into the house Big greets me and tells me to be quiet as Little is napping. Excellent! Daddy did have it under control! As I walk deeper into the house though, the real story begins to reveal itself.
There are new dishes strewn across the table, food has litterally been thrown onto the floor and the walls, the toy box has exploded, Big is still in his pj's (it is at this point, almost 1:30 pm) no one has had lunch and Little fell asleep only minutes before I walked in the door.
I peruse the mess, and I notice that of course Big Daddy has chosen not the couscous, but straight chicken to serve to Little and never thought to mix it with something, which explains why the food is on the floor and the walls. Poor Little has actually gone to bed hungry, is going to be overtired from lack of sleep (which you all know means a wakeful night ahead for mommy) and from what I gather, ended up crying himself to sleep because all other sleep strategies failed.
Frustrated to hell by the disaster that is my kitchen, I begin to tidy up for the gazilionth time. The lovely, blissful feeling that had only moments ago filled my aura, was starting to melt away. Now home, looking at the beautiful mess that is my life, I begin to feel the telling aches from a deep massage, and I notice that although I had a beautiful parafin wax applied to my heels- the damage of a year of neglect can't be undone in 1 treatment. So I reach for a glass of water, as well as a glass of wine, sit back on the couch, tip my head back and sigh. A mom's work is never done.
A time to unwind, recharge, refuel, pamper, polish and exfoliate.
I made this decision after learning that Big Daddy was going to be gone all day on Sunday in a golf tournament, leaving me to spend another full, jam packed day on my own vs the tag team approach that weekends normally allow for.
Before Little joined the family I was a 'regular' at my local spa, visiting every 6-12 weeks for facials, or massages, pedicures, hot stone massage, body wraps and the like. I love the spa experience: donning the robes, drinking the 'specialty teas' and pouring water filled with fruit, cucumbers, lemons or other treats into goblets while someone takes the time to look after me and tend to my needs. Over a period of time I began to view the treatments as necessary, in order to maintian my youthful appearance, rather then viewing them as a treat. Sadly, during my pregnancy with Little and the post partum period there has been a tremendous time lapse since my last visit. 1 year to be exact. So when I made the phone call to book my appointment I did so without an ounce of mommy guilt.
It felt so good to make the call. In fact, once the call was placed and the treatments and times were booked a long time staff member greeted me over the phone. "Jennifer, it's Heather! It's been a while. I look forward to seeing you."
'Hi Heather, yes it has been a while. Too long in fact. I am looking forward to coming in. See you Saturday!".
When I hung up the phone, I felt a little bit like Norm from 'Cheers' as he took his regular seat at the bar. Moments after the appointment was booked a quick text to Big Daddy told him that I was escaping the mad house for a few hours and he was in charge.
When I woke up that morning I worked diligently to ensure all of the morning chores were done. The kids were fed breakfast, diapers were changed, the kitchen was tidied (knowing that if I left it for Big Daddy, I would only be faced with more dishes. He is many things, but a multi-tasker when children are outnumbering him, he is not), and I showered and began to mentally prepare for my treatments. Today's menu was a massage + pedicure. Delicious!
Moments before heading out the door I confer with Big Daddy to rattle off the last minute instructions for Little. The conversation included me explaining the appropriate time for his morning nap (knowing it would be delayed because Mommy and her Magic Boobies were otherwise engaged); providing suggestions for a mid morning snack, and what to serve for lunch. It was simple. So I thought. I explained that Cheerios & pear were a great idea for a morning snack and that the Couscous & Sweet pepper dish I made the day before were in a freezer tray, not yet having a chance to bag it. Before I turned to leave I asked Big Daddy if he had any questions and if he knew where to find everything. He said he was good, and that he had it all under control so I turned and got the hell out of Dodge.
I ran out the door and sjumped into the car, and noticed how brightly the sun was shinning. I put down the windows, cranked the tunes and I am pretty sure the tires left skid marks on the road as I peeled off down the street.
I arrived at my destination with time to spare and enjoyed reading trashy magazines before I was seated for my treatments. Two and a half blissful hours later, I emerge a new woman. I walk back to the car and begin to wonder what fun we can have in the afternoon.
As I walk into the house Big greets me and tells me to be quiet as Little is napping. Excellent! Daddy did have it under control! As I walk deeper into the house though, the real story begins to reveal itself.
There are new dishes strewn across the table, food has litterally been thrown onto the floor and the walls, the toy box has exploded, Big is still in his pj's (it is at this point, almost 1:30 pm) no one has had lunch and Little fell asleep only minutes before I walked in the door.
I peruse the mess, and I notice that of course Big Daddy has chosen not the couscous, but straight chicken to serve to Little and never thought to mix it with something, which explains why the food is on the floor and the walls. Poor Little has actually gone to bed hungry, is going to be overtired from lack of sleep (which you all know means a wakeful night ahead for mommy) and from what I gather, ended up crying himself to sleep because all other sleep strategies failed.
Frustrated to hell by the disaster that is my kitchen, I begin to tidy up for the gazilionth time. The lovely, blissful feeling that had only moments ago filled my aura, was starting to melt away. Now home, looking at the beautiful mess that is my life, I begin to feel the telling aches from a deep massage, and I notice that although I had a beautiful parafin wax applied to my heels- the damage of a year of neglect can't be undone in 1 treatment. So I reach for a glass of water, as well as a glass of wine, sit back on the couch, tip my head back and sigh. A mom's work is never done.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Summer
I love summer.
It is my favourite time of year. The sun shines, the days are long and I feel like I get so much more accomplished than I do in the winter. And although summer doesn't officially start until the 21st of June, the sights and smells of summer are in full gear in central Ontario. The BBQ has been fired up, the bugs are out and sunscreen is being lathered all over my babies beautiful skin.
One summer tradition we have not yet participated in is a street sale. Next week, however, that will no longer be the case. Participating in this event has meant that we have had to comb through old boxes in the garage and under the stairs to purge ourselves of the crap that we hold onto, that will never be used. We do this in the hopes that some other schmo will purchase said crap and love it and use it. Or better yet, sell it again at their next Yard Sale!
Big is pretty excited about this . He loves to look for the signs advertising Yard Sales on our drive to the Y every Saturday morning for swim lessons. He is hopeful that one day he will come upon a plethera of vintage Star Wars Toys for a real deal. He's so sweet, he thinks he can buy that stuff for cheap. However, he is less enthused about the purging of his toys, and he keeps putting back the toys that I want to put out to pasture. I am sure I will be filling garbage bags full of stuffed toys in the cover of darkness and I hope he will be distracted by the other tables on the street so he doesn't see his toys carried off by some other kid!
As we prepare for this event the big question that is lingering over me is whether or not we sell, gulp, the baby stuff. For four years I made Big Daddy hold onto the Exersaucer, Baby swing, strollers, wagons, bumbo seats, chew toys and the like. He was forever wanting to rid us of 'the clutter' so he could put a car in the garage, and I kept reminding him of the cost to buy it all back after we had our second baby.
Well, the second baby has arrived and is here to stay, his 'stuff' however is on the chopping block. He has begun to outgrow several items that are taking up space in our house, and my parents house too.
I know that the past few entries have been about my frustration regarding my lack of sleep and a baby that won't cooperate, and that this current state was putting a damper on the desire for baby number three. But here I am watching him roll around the hardwood floor trying to remove the vent covers from the floor and he is looking so cute in his AC/DC onesie, and his head is huge, and his eyes are blue and he has fat wrists and inverted knuckles and rolls on rolls, and baby toes and, and, and......
Big Daddy says he's done. He's happy with two and he has said he couldn't love another (which is of course a lie, he would if we had one, but I get it). He is also a firm believer of the rules created by my father: Rule #1 Never let them outnumber you Rule #2 Don't break Rule #1. I used to be a firm believer of that rule. Yet here I am. Sitting on my couch on a beautiful sunny afternoon watching Little roll around the floor while Big has a nap upstairs. And although I don't want a baby right this second, I honestly can't say that I am done having babies.
So what do I do about all the crap? The swing, the bumbo, the bouncy chair, the baby clothes that Little has grown out of?
Well, for now, it looks like we have to keep it. I just can't part with those items. Sorry folks, no crazy deals for a new family hoping to get some baby items on the cheap For now I suppose it will continue to take up space in our house, and I am sure it will all collect a thick layer of dust before I ever come to a decision about being a family of five, or four.
It is my favourite time of year. The sun shines, the days are long and I feel like I get so much more accomplished than I do in the winter. And although summer doesn't officially start until the 21st of June, the sights and smells of summer are in full gear in central Ontario. The BBQ has been fired up, the bugs are out and sunscreen is being lathered all over my babies beautiful skin.
One summer tradition we have not yet participated in is a street sale. Next week, however, that will no longer be the case. Participating in this event has meant that we have had to comb through old boxes in the garage and under the stairs to purge ourselves of the crap that we hold onto, that will never be used. We do this in the hopes that some other schmo will purchase said crap and love it and use it. Or better yet, sell it again at their next Yard Sale!
Big is pretty excited about this . He loves to look for the signs advertising Yard Sales on our drive to the Y every Saturday morning for swim lessons. He is hopeful that one day he will come upon a plethera of vintage Star Wars Toys for a real deal. He's so sweet, he thinks he can buy that stuff for cheap. However, he is less enthused about the purging of his toys, and he keeps putting back the toys that I want to put out to pasture. I am sure I will be filling garbage bags full of stuffed toys in the cover of darkness and I hope he will be distracted by the other tables on the street so he doesn't see his toys carried off by some other kid!
As we prepare for this event the big question that is lingering over me is whether or not we sell, gulp, the baby stuff. For four years I made Big Daddy hold onto the Exersaucer, Baby swing, strollers, wagons, bumbo seats, chew toys and the like. He was forever wanting to rid us of 'the clutter' so he could put a car in the garage, and I kept reminding him of the cost to buy it all back after we had our second baby.
Well, the second baby has arrived and is here to stay, his 'stuff' however is on the chopping block. He has begun to outgrow several items that are taking up space in our house, and my parents house too.
I know that the past few entries have been about my frustration regarding my lack of sleep and a baby that won't cooperate, and that this current state was putting a damper on the desire for baby number three. But here I am watching him roll around the hardwood floor trying to remove the vent covers from the floor and he is looking so cute in his AC/DC onesie, and his head is huge, and his eyes are blue and he has fat wrists and inverted knuckles and rolls on rolls, and baby toes and, and, and......
Big Daddy says he's done. He's happy with two and he has said he couldn't love another (which is of course a lie, he would if we had one, but I get it). He is also a firm believer of the rules created by my father: Rule #1 Never let them outnumber you Rule #2 Don't break Rule #1. I used to be a firm believer of that rule. Yet here I am. Sitting on my couch on a beautiful sunny afternoon watching Little roll around the floor while Big has a nap upstairs. And although I don't want a baby right this second, I honestly can't say that I am done having babies.
So what do I do about all the crap? The swing, the bumbo, the bouncy chair, the baby clothes that Little has grown out of?
Well, for now, it looks like we have to keep it. I just can't part with those items. Sorry folks, no crazy deals for a new family hoping to get some baby items on the cheap For now I suppose it will continue to take up space in our house, and I am sure it will all collect a thick layer of dust before I ever come to a decision about being a family of five, or four.
Monday, May 24, 2010
"Well, whatever it is, it's going to be different".
I can't believe it.
I thought for sure we would be over this mini roadblock and back to our blissful life of love and happiness.
When I was pregnant with Little I remember having a conversation with my dad about the person that was growing in my belly and what he or she would be like. I wondered if he would be loud like Big, and if that baby would also be lacking in the department of volume control (Big has limited ability to find and use his 'inside voice'). Would the baby be wiggly like Big always wanting to be on the move, or content to just be. Every visit I had with my parents I would contemplate the person that was to be and my dad, the wise man that he is, looked at me and said: "Well, whatever it is, it's going to be different". As usual, he was right.
Where Big could be put to sleep by anyone and anywhere, Little has proven to be more sensitive. He needs the familiarity of his own room and a consistent routine. Where Big could fly by the seat of his pants happy to be on the go with me from one place to another. Little is content to just sit with you and snuggle, taking in the antics of his louder, older brother, and observing the world through his unblinking baby blue eyes. In fact most visitors comment on how quiet he is. The kid even came with me on the all girls weekend with my girl themombshell , and except to dissapear for a short period of time to nurse him and put him down for a sleep, you would never have known he was there!
I can't believe that I am still dealing with sleep issues.
I thought for sure we would be over this mini roadblock and back to our blissful life of love and happiness.
Boy, was I wrong. It turns out that Little is alot more stubborn than I thought.
When I was pregnant with Little I remember having a conversation with my dad about the person that was growing in my belly and what he or she would be like. I wondered if he would be loud like Big, and if that baby would also be lacking in the department of volume control (Big has limited ability to find and use his 'inside voice'). Would the baby be wiggly like Big always wanting to be on the move, or content to just be. Every visit I had with my parents I would contemplate the person that was to be and my dad, the wise man that he is, looked at me and said: "Well, whatever it is, it's going to be different". As usual, he was right.
Where Big could be put to sleep by anyone and anywhere, Little has proven to be more sensitive. He needs the familiarity of his own room and a consistent routine. Where Big could fly by the seat of his pants happy to be on the go with me from one place to another. Little is content to just sit with you and snuggle, taking in the antics of his louder, older brother, and observing the world through his unblinking baby blue eyes. In fact most visitors comment on how quiet he is. The kid even came with me on the all girls weekend with my girl themombshell , and except to dissapear for a short period of time to nurse him and put him down for a sleep, you would never have known he was there!
So as I sit here and contemplate the differences in my kids, I am trying, desperately, to find the positive.
If you know me at all, you know that I am not one to sit and rest. Until recently, I could be found attending an event for work, volunteering in the community, teaching my Lamaze classes, at the gym, out with friends, mothering the boys, and taking a course, all while trying to keep this house tidy. All of this was possible when I had a baby that would sleep anywhere. Gone are the days when I could just bolt out the door with Big in tow, who was happy to be tagging along on 'an adventure'. Since the arrival of Little I have had to shift many of my priorities that had 'others' before me and sometimes, my family.
Now, I find myself saying a two letter word that, to me, is the dirtiest word in the world: No. I have had to say 'no' to many things over the past year and a bit, and, I have to admit, it does get easier every time I say it. The pit of dispair that normally fills my gut at the thought of dissapointing someone, or letting someone down is easing up, a bit. Well, enough that I know that the world won't actually end if I don't do something. Perhaps this sensitivity Little has to sleeping out of the house, is actually a gift (like I said folks, I'm trying to find 'the positive' and I believe in alot of self talk!).
It has forced me to be still, and to live in the moment (even the horrible ones). To stick close to home and spend time with the people that mean the most to me. Sometimes this new lifestyle can be inconvenient and the old Jen gets frustrated and stir crazy at the thought of staying home. But then I remind myself that this is a short term problem. Soon enough my life will be back on track with the comings and goings of my busy life.
Don't get me wrong. I will continue to fight the good fight, and I plan on fixing Little's wagon so that getting out of the house will be easier. But while we work on developing this new skill, you'll know where to find me. At the bottom of a wine glass (just kidding!). At home, with Big and Little.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Mother Love, Mother Guilt and all the feelings in between
This year on Mother's Day I enjoyed a lovely brunch made by Big Daddy, I received a gift certificate to purchase some jewelry (I have my eye on some new earings), Big made me a beautiful painting at school and my darling little brother and his super awesome wife had flowers delivered to the house. They are so gorgeous that I took a picture to show you!
My parents came over for a visit and we all enjoyed a nice meal together (my mom also brought me some ready to make meals to save me from cooking dinner this week). On Saturday my in-laws spent the afternoon with us and my lovely MIL gave me some money to put towards the purchase of new jeans-hooray! It is so nice to be spoiled, isn't it? My family did a great job to make me feel loved and appreciated and the Mother's Day weekend was a great one.
So, isn't it ironic that only 1 day after Mother's Day,a day when Mother's are loved and Mother's love even more than the other 364 days of the year that go unnoticed, that I find myself in a battle with my littlest offspring.
To date, my relationship with my littlest man has been pure bliss. Our love affair has been without roadbumps, roadblocks or obstacles of any kind. He is a very calm, pleasant, smiley, easy-going, loveable, huggable boy. In two words he is: pure awesome. He is such a great baby that up until the other night, I was seriously considering a 3rd. Now, I am not so sure (I can hear the sigh of relief coming from Big Daddy as he feels we should live by my father's golden rules: Rule #1 Never let them outnumber you. Rule #2 Don't break Rule #1).
So, what has caused Little and I to cross the ever so delicate line between love and hate? I can hear my mother now "There's a fine line between love and hate, Jennifer"- always making this comment after my across the street neighbour, Ryan, had irritated me to the point of major emotional erruption. I admit that was not hard to do, I am a bit of a drama queen. But this story is not about a short lived romance with the boy across the street. This is a story about the day when Little 'forgot' how to sleep!
He used to be quite stellar. Sure, he didn't always make it through the night, but you could always count on being able to place him wide awake in bed , walk away and he would drift off to lala land all on his own. Then the other day, in a flash, it was over. Soon I found myself pacing the floor, rocking and sitting, combined with interludes of letting him CIO for a while , only to go back in the room to try the shhh-pat/PUPD technique a-la Baby Whisperer (which normally works like magic). After about, I don't know the 50th attempt at trying to get this little terror to finally go to sleep, I had to call in the reinforcements. I was spent. I had no more tricks up my sleeve.
Luckily for me and Little, Big Daddy took my 'sublte cues' to go in to the room and woo this babe back to sleepyville. These cues included, but were not limited to: swearing, sighing, kicking covers off and flinging myself down to the pillows out of frustration and exhaustion, followed by a fairly strong 'nudge' (okay, maybe more of a jab) and a "You go deal with him- I'm through!".
Like I said, I was subtle.
Like a bomb.
45 minutes after sending Big Daddy into the room, I finally heard him return to our bed, slide under the covers and fall back asleep. Later I found out that he didn't do any of the sleep training techniques we have used in the past. Instead he sat in the rocker holding his baby boy until sleep found him again. I was only mildly annoyed that this was the option he chose while I sweated it out trying to 'teach' this kid to sleep properly. However, I was so thankful to not be in the room anymore and happy that this baby finally went back to sleep after being AWAKE for over 2 hours in the middle of the night, that I chose not to say anything. If I have learned anything at all over 7 years of marraige it is that you have to pick your battles.
The next night wasn't any better. So this time when Big Daddy was sent in I didn't ask him what he did to get him back to sleep. I just didn't care. All I was a break from the bruiser.
By the third night I found the inner strength and patience to deal with Little again. This time my killer PU/PD method +shhh pat worked and he was back off to sleep in 10 minutes. On night 4 we had success again with only a brief disruption of sleep.
Today as I finally have some time to write I remain hopeful that by the end of the week our Little will be sleeping through the night again and peace and bliss will once again return to this household.
Fingers crossed.
If not, babies are usual 'For Sale' at 2 am. Inquire within.
**Editor's note: This blog post has been in draft mode for 1 week and we are still dealing with sleep challenges. Desire for 3rd baby continues decrease. A sister for the brothers is becoming less likely with each passing night. Sob.**
Thursday, May 6, 2010
When Pigs Fly
Last night I couldn't sleep. I wanted to, I really, really did. There were passing moments of REM, but most of the time, I was half aware that I was only half asleep.
What was keeping me up, you ask? My brain. Yes, that's right. The parts of my brain that I have managed to retain and keep in fairly good condition following the birth of 2 babies and little sleep over a 4 year period, was functioning in high gear last night.
Thoughts would zoom in and out as I tossed and turned in bed. I thought about what the kids and I would do today (perhaps a trip to the zoo?);check weather report; made mental lists of all of the chores I need to accomplish; made a mental 'Honey, Do' list for my lovely husband (paint mainfloor powder room); mentally pictured what main floor powder room should look like; call accountant; spend tax return to renovate front porch(yes, finally we get our money BACK from the government); put finances in order; brainstormed over topics that would be appropriate to post in my blog; planned a vacation to visit my brother in California Christmas 2010; put finances in order; thought about my blog; renovate front porch; spend tax return; call accountant; paint main floor powder room, what colour? Grey?; Return to and expand 'Honey, Do' List; Mommy chores; trip to the zoo; check weather report; Repeat.
Hmmm, maybe if Big and Little don't want to go to the zoo then maybe we can all stay home and nap. Yeah, right; when pigs fly.
What was keeping me up, you ask? My brain. Yes, that's right. The parts of my brain that I have managed to retain and keep in fairly good condition following the birth of 2 babies and little sleep over a 4 year period, was functioning in high gear last night.
Thoughts would zoom in and out as I tossed and turned in bed. I thought about what the kids and I would do today (perhaps a trip to the zoo?);check weather report; made mental lists of all of the chores I need to accomplish; made a mental 'Honey, Do' list for my lovely husband (paint mainfloor powder room); mentally pictured what main floor powder room should look like; call accountant; spend tax return to renovate front porch(yes, finally we get our money BACK from the government); put finances in order; brainstormed over topics that would be appropriate to post in my blog; planned a vacation to visit my brother in California Christmas 2010; put finances in order; thought about my blog; renovate front porch; spend tax return; call accountant; paint main floor powder room, what colour? Grey?; Return to and expand 'Honey, Do' List; Mommy chores; trip to the zoo; check weather report; Repeat.
Hmmm, maybe if Big and Little don't want to go to the zoo then maybe we can all stay home and nap. Yeah, right; when pigs fly.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Better luck next time
I would never describe myself as a 'domestic diva'.
Unlike our friend June, I have a very hard time keeping my house clean.
There are always dishes in my sink, or laundry that is waiting to be folded and put away. Toys are always strewn across the floor, even though I swore I just tidied up that very spot only moments ago. The central vac is pulled out daily as I drag it all around the kitchen floor in my vain attempt to suck up all of the crumbs the family has left behind from the previous meal (really, do we get anything in our mouths?!?). I wash the floors when our feet start to stick, and the bathrooms get cleaned once a week whether they need it or not. I try to cook a decent meal most nights and over the years, my cooking skills have improved.
As I attempt to cross off all my chores from the 'to do list' I try to spend spend quality time with 'Big' playing a variety of make believe games that include, but are not limited to:
- Star Wars
- Spiderman
- BatMan
- lego
- reading
And in between my adventures with the Caped Crusader and Robin or Han Solo and Luke, I try to engage, nuture and interact with my 8 month old baby.
Every once in a while though, I hit my stride. I get it all done. I clean the house, I play with the kids, I participate in my community and get a kick ass meal on the table. On the occasions that I manage to pull it all together I give myself a pat on the back, open up a bottle of red wine and settle into the couch and indulge in a little me time.
Unfortunately, today was not one of those days! Maybe I will have better luck tomorrow.
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