Hey y'all!

Don't forget to fix your bookmarks and make the move with me to the new blog:  Not Super...Just Mom

Happy Friday!

EEK! Y'all, I'm excited

You know those changes I was telling you about?  Well, I'm making them. 

I've moved the posts to the new blog, but I'll continue to update this one for a bit.  At least until I get all settled in over there.

So, without further adieu...


I link you to...


Not Super...Just Mom

AHH!  What do you think!?  Follow me there and comment.  I'm so nervous.  And excited.  EEK!

People who know me know two things

1.  I've never been very good at letting go of things that get to my heart.  I have this hard exterior (I think) but I am a brooder.  I ruminate and chew on the things that strike me emotionally until they are virtually nothing. 

2.  I am also very logical and reason-oriented.  I need things to happen in a logical sequence.  Which makes no sense considering my hatred of almost all numbers.

This sort of internal conflict is probably why I'm depressed.

But anyway, back to the point.

I have made some amazing friends through the interwebz.  Yes, I realize that saying "my friends live in my computer" makes me sound like some mid-20's socially awkward geeky gamer living in his mom and dad's basement.  But it's true. 

I turn to these women in times of sadness and grief.  There's plenty of glorious oversharing.  And when there are happy things to be discussed, they are often among the first to find out.  It's how we work.  I like it.

However, the other day, I joined in a conversation about sleep training that I have not been able to shake since Sunday.  One poster asked what sleep training was and said it sounded ridiculous.  I responded with a definition of sleep training and a brief description of the common methods and later commented that sleep training usually sparks images of babies crying-it-out, or self-soothing, or whatever you want to call it.  Others commented that it made perfect sense to them.  That we have to teach our children good sleep habits.  That it's our job as their parents to teach them how to go to sleep on their own.

I said that calling it sleep "training" indicated that I could train Joshua to sleep the same way I trained Annie not to pee on the rug and that I couldn't let Joshua cry-it-out after doing it when he was six months old because he KNOWS me now.  Like, KNOWS me.  He runs up to me and puts his head in my lap and gives me kisses and plays with my nose and laughs when I make silly faces.  He. Knows. Me. 

And then people began sort of disagreeing with me when I wasn't even really disagreeing with them in the first place.  And this incredible sense of unrest has descended on my mind and my heart and it won't go away.  I felt attacked somehow and didn't understand it, and still sort of feel attacked.  And then, as I chewed on my thoughts some more, I realized why I feel this way.

Because my child doesn't sleep through the night.

It feels like I've done something incredibly wrong because my child still wakes up two or three times a night.   Like, if I were a better mother or a better "trainer" then my child wouldn't still be waking up, sometimes just wanting to be held for a few minutes.  If I were a better "trainer" then my child wouldn't block attempts at one day, maybe having a sibling. (And no, negotiations for Human 2.0 have not commenced.  Nor will they any time soon.)

This is just another time when I feel like a colossal screw-up because I'm apparently creating bad habits by comforting my son. 

And then I thought some more about it and here's the thing.

He CAN put himself back to sleep when he wakes up in the middle of the night.  He does it on occasion.  He'll wake up, fuss or talk for a minute, and then go back to sleep.  I know he's perfectly capable of going back to sleep on his own. 

But what do you do when the baby/toddler WON'T put himself back to sleep?

I know that he can.  But he won't. 

He doesn't understand reasoning and logic the way I do, and that, to date, has to be the hardest part of parenting for me, the logical thinker.  I can't say "we have to sleep all night long so we can play all day tomorrow."  All he hears is "blahblahblahblahPLAYblahblahblah."  I can't say "You're too old to have a bottle at night."  All he hears is "blahblahblahblahBOTTLEblahblahblah."  There is no "If you sleep all night long, you can have oyster crackers for breakfast!"

In that case, my only option seems to be to let him CIO, and if I can't bring myself to do that, what alternative do I have left?  How do I "train" him?  It seems that, in this case, where he has the skill and chooses not to use it, my option is to "punish" him by not going in to him at night.  And yes, it feels like punishment to me.  It feels like abandonment and selfishness.

Get my point? 

The bigger issue here is, of course, not about sleep training at all.  It's about our need to be "right" when it comes to our parenting choices.  It's about our need for acknowledgment and acceptance and affirmation. 

I NEED someone to tell me that it's okay that my child doesn't sleep all night long.  And others NEED to hear that it's okay that they let their child cry until s/he falls back to sleep.  And we all NEED to stop jumping on each other for having ideas and opinions different from our own. 

::sigh::

Fabulous Friday

Woot!  Three weeks in.a.ROW, peolple!  And you thought I wouldn't make it!  HA! 

Okay, anyway, back to the reason for the post.

Here's what I'm doing to make my Friday Fab:

1.  I'm going to pick my son up as early as I can from daycare and we're going to go to the grocery store together to buy diapers and just hang out.  That seems ridiculous, right?  That THAT's one of the highlights of my Friday?  Well, there are afternoons when I sort of prolong going to get him because I'm afraid of the meltdown that will happen once I get him home.  Since it's supposed to be pretty tomorrow and storming all weekend, I'm going to get him and take advantage of the nice weather and get some Vitamin D with him. I have a football in the car, so maybe we'll find a park or something on the way home.

2.  We're having Korean ribs for dinner tomorrow night.  It's a savory, garlicky, thin strip of rib meat that is delish.  And I have a ginger-dressing salad to go with it.  And I might have wine.  Wait.  Who am I kidding?  It's Friday.  There will definitely be a glass of wine.

As of right now, I'm feeling kind of lame :/

I think my Fab Fridays revolve around food and wine.  I need new hobbies for Friday nights.

OH! 

3.  I'm going to have a mini-marathon of Bones since I have a few episodes on Tivo.  That's a WIN for a Friday night, right!?!?  It is for me.  David Boreanaz and some sexy science?!  Love.

No..I'm still lame.  Food.  Wine.  TV. 


Okay, people, I need some suggestions.  Leave a comment and let me know what you're doing or have done to make your Friday Fabulous!

Good day report!

In my effort to chronicle my good days, I feel I should report to you all that I've made a few personal changes that, I think, are impacting my ability to have good days.

Change #1:  I have started washing my face every.single.night before I go to bed.  I found a cleansing product that I'm in love with and I'm going to share a review of it with y'all soon.  (And no, the makers of this product did not provide me with it for free.  I bought it.  I'll photocopy the receipt if you want.  If I can find it.)  There's something about going to bed with a clean face that helps me wake up with a clean mind.  I think.  Or maybe I'm hallucinating that or something.  Anyway, I wake up feeling a little more "clear."

Change #2:  I don't hit the snooze button a million times.  I don't get up IMMEDIATELY (mostly because Joshua has a knack for waking up five to ten minutes BEFORE the alarm is set to go off which sort of FORCES me to get out of bed) but I don't lay there until the absolute last minute and then scramble to get out of the house, either. 

Change #3:  I've started taking more care with my appearance before leaving the house in the morning.  I've started busting out my cute dresses and skirts and shoes and even though I don't have a tan, I'm still feeling prettier every day.  And sometimes feeling pretty is half the battle.  I hope that doesn't make me sound narcissistic.  But really, when I go to work looking my best, I end up feeling better, too.  Which translates into a better day for all of us.

And the best part about all of this is that I've managed to stick to this regimen despite the fact that I still feel sort of gross.  I'm not in pain like I was on Monday, but I'm still all goopy in my lungs.  It's gross.  I don't like it.  I'm contemplating calling the doctor and yelling into the phone that I'm a raging, antibiotic-seeking, hypochondriac and could they please just prescribe me some augmentin or amoxicillin so that I don't get meningitis or Mongolian Body Rot from an untreated sinus infection and I don't even care if I develop a tolerance to either of those antibiotics.  (Did I ever tell you I'm a worst-case-scenario planner??)

Anyway, so today was a good day.  We had something called "Ghost Out" at school today since the prom is this weekend.  It's a way to show the prom-goers and young drivers the dangers of distracted and drunk driving.  The local service agencies (fire department, EMTs, police, life-flight services) mock up a crash on the track and all of the kids are taken to the stadium and they hear a monologue being read that details the events of a crash that involved three cars, claimed the lives of five of their classmates, and injured a half-dozen others.  And then the students who were involved in the crash, either via being killed or injured, don't attend classes that day to show what it would be like if that student was no longer there.  The parents of a student who lost her life last year while texting a driving also came to share their story.  While it won't stop them all from making stupid decisions while behind the wheel of a car, it might stop some of them.  And that's saving lives, so I'll take it.

I did have a hiccup or two with my 9th graders, and it was totally unexpected, but we'll get back on track tomorrow.  (What is that I hear?!?!  Positivity!?!?  What blog have you stumbled upon!?!)

But I picked Joshua up from daycare and brought him home and we had a GREAT time this evening.  He rolled around and played outside and then threw a temper tantrum when I wouldn't let him slap the pollen-y mailbox anymore.  We perused the items going in our neighbor's yard sale a day or two early and got him a cute little Sesame Street chair and ottoman set.  I just have to wash the covers and he's ready to have Katelyn or Austin over for cookies and juice.

But here's the BEST part of the afternoon.

My son ate DINNER.  For real.  I mean, he ate butternut squash and applesauce puree. Yes, he still eats purees.  Yes, he has eight and a half teeth and 20 more on the way.  But he ATE, y'all!  Oyster crackers, squash and apples, a piece of cheese, and two graham crackers.  And some juice.  I got a VEGETABLE in him for DINNER.  This hasn't happened in two weeks. 

HALLELUJAH.

That was enough to make the day AMAZING. 

(Until Dan decided to look at me like I'd farted when I pitched my new blog-title idea to him.  That wasn't the highlight...)

But it's almost time to wash my face again and then I'll read a bit and hopefully, maybe, fingers crossed, Joshua will sleep all night long and wake up when I go in to get him dressed for school in the morning.  Maybe.  But I'm not holding my breath.

Fab Friday coming tomorrow!

Change is gonna come

I've been toying with the idea of changing the blog title/URL for a while now.  The current title and URL no longer fit the purpose, and when I started this blog, my Magic 8 ball was broken and I didn't know that it wouldn't work forever.  I was trying to be hopeful, and now I'm just trying to be real.

So, today, in the middle of a meltdown of sorts (but I'm okay, I promise), I found the inspiration I'd been looking for.  And I finally found a blog title and URL that is cool (in my humble opinion!) and AVAILABLE.  So I snatched it.

So this is the warning.  At some date in the near future, you'll likely come here and find that there's a link to a new blog.  I hope that you'll follow me there.

Or, the alternative will happen and I will have snatched up this new blog title and I'll never make the switch because I'm entirely too much a creature of habit and I'm emotionally attached to this blog.  How sappy is that?!?! 

Gah.  Maybe this warning was all for nothing...

'Cause I'm no....I'm no Superwoman

It's true.  I'm not super.  Sometimes I'm just a woman.

I got a shot in my cheek today, y'all.  And I'm not talking about the cheek above my neck. 

I didn't feel so great last week.  I was coughing and kind of snotty and I thought it was just pollen.  Well, as the weekend progressed, I started feeling worse and worse.  Advil didn't make it better.  Excedrin Migraine didn't make it better.  And Tylenol is basically just crap, so I didn't even bother taking any of that.  And this morning, my head hurt so bad I wanted to cry. But, just like the trooper I am, I went to work.  Because what else am I going to do when the 9th graders have to finish their research paper and they can only go into the library as long as I'm with them and the 11th graders are reading Gatsby and are needing me to fill in the details when they get lost in Fitzgerald's beautiful prose. 

And then let's not forget that my son needs me and my husband needs me and yes, yes I got a pedicure on Saturday and yes, I took pictures for y'all (because, I mean, what ELSE would I do, right?!) but that pedicure did not make me feel better physically, even though looking at my hot pink toenails makes me smile.

So, by lunch time today, after I had zero appetite and could barely move because the pain was so bad, I called and made an appointment at the primary care office.  No more Minute Clinic for me.  No sir.

They saw me at 3:00 today.  And I have to say that I was not impressed with the PA I saw.  At all.  He walked in the room and before he even got in there, I think he'd decided what my diagnosis would be and what course of action he'd be prescribing.  I'm not even kidding.  He walked in and did.not.stop.talking.  He launched into a tirade about seasonal allergies and heading them off before they flare up and how I should not go to bed without washing my hair if I go outside at all because my hair is apparently a pollen-sponge and then I'm just creating a pollen nest in my pillow and antibiotics only work on bacterial infections and people will take antibiotics and feel better for a bit and then they'll feel worse afterward because that wasn't the problem to begin with and then they're back and they say they took all of the antibiotics but they still feel bad and did I know that I should just stop the seasonal allergies before they start.

And if you just got a headache reading that, imagine how I felt, as the patient, who was already achy and sore to begin with and multiply that by about a million and that's how I felt listening to him rant.  For real.  I'm not even exaggerating. Not even a little bit.  And Dan doesn't believe that I'm not exaggerating and he thinks I'm a hypochondriac and that I should listen to the PA because he went to med school and I didn't and Dan is the biggest self-diagnoser ever and I love him.  Millions.  (::smooches::)

See, with all the goop I have coming out of my nose and lungs, I'm 99% certain there's an infection somewhere.   Especially since I am on a ridiculous anti-allergy regimen because the two things I'm most allergic to (mold and dust) are two things that I cannot get away from. Dust is everywhere.  I can dust and then have to dust again the next day.  And there's a swamp underneath my mobile.  (Workman's comp!?!  Just kidding....)

Anyway, he had a student with him and he left the room so she could do the exam and I almost said to her "Please do not take notes on bedside manner from this guy.  Please." but I thought that would be unprofessional of me, so I didn't say anything.  But now I really feel like I should have.  Because he almost had me in tears with the fact that he never once asked me what was wrong with me or how I was feeling. 

But he came back in and she asked me if I've ever had a cortisone shot and how did I react and yes, I've had a cortisone shot and that's the only way I made it through my wedding without hives and I did just fine, thank you very much.  So they gave me a cortisone shot and a steroid pack and sent me on my merry way.  And I hope I feel better because if I don't, I'll be going back there and paying another $35 copay and I will ask specifically to NOT see that guy again.

And the icing on today's cake came when I called Dan after the appointment and we had to figure out how to switch cars so he could go get Joshua and I could go get a nap.  Because we only have one carseat, which is why I'm the one that takes Joshua to daycare and picks him up all the time.  But I seriously almost cried at the thought of not being able to come home and take a nap.

I NEED to rest when I'm sick, but I can't rest if I have to chase a toddler.  And I can't get better if I can't rest.  So it's a vicious cycle of me not feeling better because I can't rest.  But my responsibilities are to my family now.  Not to me.  But I can't do it all.  Do you see the dilemma I had brewing in my head today as I almost cried on my drive home??  Seriously.  If I cry to my mother one more time about how I am not as strong as her, she might have me committed.  And all I kept thinking about is a passage from The Scarlet Letter where the narrator talks about how each successive generation of women is weaker than the generation before.  And in moments like this, I think he's completely right. 

I'm not Superwoman.  I can't do everything.

But I'm supposed to be able to, right?