I am never talking about his sleep habits again

Yeah, after that wonderful explanation of our new sleep routines and how wonderful they were, Miles has had two terrible sleep days in a row.  He's even throwing tantrums in the middle of the night - something he hasn't done in a really long time.

Ugh.  No more sleep updates.  It just seems to jinx me.

The sleeps. I need them.

And for once, it's not Miles' fault that I'm not getting them.

I have been exhausted lately.  Probably because I have slept through the night only a handful of times since the New Year.  There's always something waking me up.  Occasionally, it is the toddler, waking around 2:00 am, and crying for a moment before finding Glow Worm and going back to sleep.  More often, though, it's the dog.

I love Dominic, and honestly, I think getting him was one of the better decisions we made for our family.  Miles adores him.  He and the dog are a pair, chasing each other back and forth all day.  Miles throws things for the dog, which Dominic promptly chases with great gusto, making Miles giggle.  Many a time, I have found the two of them snuggling on the couch, or staring out the window together, or simply sitting close together while Miles plays.  Yes, Miles and Dominic are buddies, and I am happy he is here.

Until 2:00 am, that is.  Dominic has an innate ability to wake me up in the middle of the night, without even trying.  He loves to run up and down the stairs for some reason, in a crazy rush to get nowhere, the tags on his collar jangling me awake like a bad alarm clock.  So, we started taking his collar off at night.

That apparently does not stop the Sleep Stealer.  Last night, even without the collar, he woke me three times. I went to bed at 9:30 to try to battle this exhaustion (plus the sickies I feel coming on).  At 10:30, Dominic decided to try to find all of the squeaky parts of the floor in our bedroom.  I sent him out, and went back to sleep, only to be awakened at 2:20 to the sound of him peeing on something.  I don't know why.  He's housetrained, and had been out not long before, according to Patrick.  By the time the mess had been cleaned and the dog disciplined, it was 2:45, and I was wide awake.  I think I finally fell asleep around 3:15.

At 3:30, Dominic jumped on my feet and woke me again.

I'm tempted to rent a hotel room, just so I can get a full night's sleep. :)

Coming Soon: Flying Baby!

I read an article once that theorized that babies sleep a lot less when they are trying to learn something new. The article pointed out that babies are notorious for being sleepless around four months old - right around the time that they are "waking up" to the world around them. And they tend to be sleepless just before they pass each subsequent milestone.

If that's true, Miles should be learning to stand independently, walk, run, jump, climb trees, and possibly fly.

In other words, it's been a sleepless week so far. He had just started to hit a routine of sleeping all night, and taking two long naps and a short nap during the day. Yesterday, he had two naps all day long - one was twenty minutes, and the other was thirty. And last night, he didn't fall asleep until almost 1:30 in the morning. And he was awake and bright eyed at 8:00. (He did fall back asleep, around 8:45, and slept for another twenty-five minutes. . .)

Thank goodness for Patrick, who let me go to bed early (midnight-thirty) and stayed up with Miles. I don't know how he does it, but I could never do this without him. If I slept as little as he does, I wouldn't be able to function.

And honestly, I can see that Miles is so close to walking. He stands independently for a few seconds at a time, much longer if he's distracted and doesn't realize what he's doing. And he keeps trying to lift his feet and walk, but it scares him, and he sits down quickly.

Hopefully, he figures it out soon. Otherwise, this blog may be written by a zombie from now on. :)

P.S. Thanks for reading, even when I complain. As a reward, here is a cute picture of Miles! :)

Sleep Rant (Seriously, you should skip this post)

I want to write a brilliant, witty post. But that sentence took me three tries to get right. Because I'm once again dealing with sleep deprivation.

Miles doesn't like to sleep. At all. He fights it and fights it until he is overtired and cranky. Last night, he was up until almost midnight, because he just didn't want to sleep. And then he woke at 6:20 am, screaming his head off. Because apparently, waking up sucks, too.

After 20 minutes of cuddling, though, he went back to sleep. So did I. Until a phone call from my mom to tell me that my step-sister is in the hospital with appendicitis. (It's ok, mom, I needed to know. I'm just whining about my lack of sleep.) I started to get up, but I was so tired. So, I went back to sleep. Until Miles woke up screaming again at 8:15.

Glorious.

After gallons of coffee, I'm finally awake. And Miles is napping. Welcome to Motherhood.

Honestly, this is the biggest reason that Miles will probably be an only child. I don't deal well with sleep deprivation. It makes me mean and irritable. I explode over the smallest things. Seriously, yesterday I had a crying meltdown because Miles woke up before I was done cleaning out his carseat (which was covered in graham cracker goo). And as I was sobbing on the floor, a little voice of reason in the back of my head kept repeating, "It's really not that big of a deal. You can finish cleaning it later." But I was so frustrated. And it comes from a lack of sleep.

Studies have proven that interrupting a REM cycle repeatedly can lead to full-blown crazy.* Seriously. People start hearing voices, blacking out, seeing things that don't exist. In the past eight months, I have only completed a REM cycle a handful of times. Thankfully, my only symptom is a heavy-duty case of PMS. Every morning, I am woken from a dead sleep and vivid dreams by the screaming of an unhappy baby. And yet, I cannot get to bed any earlier - most nights, I am in bed within half an hour after he falls asleep. No matter what, though, Miles is awake 6-8 hours after he fell asleep. Last night, it was six hours. And I need a minimum of eight hours of sleep to function normally. I feel like I'm beginning to lose my mind. And there's no end in sight. At eight months old, he should be sleeping closer to 10-12 hours a night. I hear stories everyday of babies who sleep up to 14 hours at a stretch. And I can't get mine to even do eight hours reliably. It's so frustrating.

This post really has no point. I'm just whining. And I know it could be worse, because honestly, I have the world's happiest baby for 99% of my day.

I just wish that happy baby came with a little side of sleep for his Mommy.

*Yes, that is the technical medical terminology.

Sleep

I feel like I'm always talking about sleep. How long Miles slept. How many times he woke up overnight. How many naps he's had. And always, how little sleep I am getting.

When I was a child, I fought sleep. Like crazy. I know this is where Miles gets it. I remember being 6 or 7 years old. It was summer, and my mother had sent my sister and I to our rooms to take a nap. Looking back, I'm sure she simply needed a moment to herself, to regroup and remember exactly why she loved us. I'm sure we had been a handful all morning, and she needed time to recover before another round in the afternoon. I remember, very clearly, going into my room and pulling my frilly pink comforter up to my chin. I remember laying there, staring at the ceiling, and the window, and my toys sitting across the room. I got up and went back out to the living room.

Mom: "I told you to take a nap. Go back to bed."

Me: "I did. It was a really short one. I'm up now! Can I go play?"

Mom: "No. Go back to bed. You have to sleep for at least half an hour."

Mom had that look in her eye that warned me not to argue, so I slunk back to bed, dejected. I pulled my frilly pink comforter up to my chin, again, and closed my eyes. No dice. I wasn't the least bit tired. I rolled over and tried again. Still not tired. I stretched all the way out and counted my breaths. I didn't even get to ten before I lost track. So I rolled back to my back and stared at the ceiling.

I started thinking about school, and what we'd learned recently. In math, we had been talking about minutes and seconds and hours. Sixty seconds was one minute. Thirty minutes was a half hour. If I counted to sixty, that would be one minute. If I did that thirty times, I could get up from my nap!*

I started counting. I kept track of the sixties on my fingers. One sixty. One minute. Two minutes. Eventually, I got to ten, and ran out of fingers. I stopped, stumped for the moment. Well, I knew I had ten minutes, so I could start the fingers over at eleven, and then later at twenty-one. Off I went.

Eventually, I got to thirty minutes. I immediately jumped out of bed and ran into the living room.

Mom: "I told you to go back to bed. Half an hour, remember?"

Me: "Yep! I counted! It's been thirty minutes."

Mom: "It's been five minutes. Go back to bed. I will come and get you when it's time to get up. I promise. Go."

I walked back to bed, never able to figure out where I had gone wrong. I had counted. A lot. It should have worked, and it didn't. I turned it over and over in my head as I laid down, and pulled up the frilly pink comforter one more time. I still hadn't figured it out when I finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion of thought.

I know exactly where Miles gets it. :)

* Please note that it didn't occur to me that I had lost count of my breaths at less than ten. I was determined to count to sixty. Thirty times.

Moving On Up!

My little boy is growing up. :(

I know, I know. I'm always saying that. But seriously? This is a major milestone.

He's moving into his own room.

Yep. Tonight will be his very first night sleeping in his own bedroom all by himself! Like a big boy! I thought putting the crib up was bad, but moving him out of our bedroom seems like a huge step in his journey away from that soft cuddly newborn he was not so long ago. And while I'm sad to see him moving away from me, figurative step by (soon) literal step, I am so excited for him. Because this means that he is growing like he should be. That he is healthy. Normal. And while I hear moms say all the time that they wish their baby "could stay little forever," I know in my heart that I am glad he's growing. I know that I wouldn't want to limit him to being little forever. I am excited to see each new thing that he learns, because it brings him one step closer to being the person he will become someday.

And perhaps I'm making too big a deal out of this. I mean, it's not like he's moving to the next state. He's simply moving into the next room - literally a dozen steps further than he has been. And I know it's time. When I roll over in my sleep, I hear Miles stir, just a little. When Patrick comes to bed late, Miles sometimes wakes enough to need to be comforted back to sleep. When Lilo, our dog, moves across the room to find a more comfortable spot, it sometimes wakes Miles completely. All of the little noises that come with sharing a room are interrupting his sleep. So, we are making the obvious and practical choice, and moving him to his own room.

And yet, the thought of him being so far away brings tears to my eyes. Because it means my baby is growing up. And that is the most bittersweet thing I have ever experienced.

This Post Brought to You By: Sleep Deprivation

Ok, so it's been 3 days since I wrote anything, so I guess I should. Just warning you, though, I'm tired, and I have nothing interesting to say.

Instead, I'll just show off this amazing little guy.

Yes, he's standing (admittedly, with a lot of help from that railing for balance). And yes, he's blurry. Because he was bouncing, too. My son is a genius. Seriously.

We're off work for a couple of days, since all of the cool kids we know went to Arizona without us. Jerks.

Ok, so we were invited and declined. Whatever. 24 hours on a bus with a 6-month-old* seemed like a bad idea. Besides, who wants to spend that long on a bus just to dance their tail off in the Arizona sun?**

In all seriousness, I hope their trip is going well. And I know for a fact that they are going to blow Arizona out of the water.***

I will just take comfort in the fact that I get to stay home with this instead:

*Ohmygoodness, he's almost 6 months old! Ahhhh!

**Me!me!me!me!me!me! [raises hand and bounces up and down]

***So to speak. As I recall, there's not a whole lot of water around for Arizona to be blown out of, but . . .

Huzzah for Sleep!!!

So, Patrick is a genius. I'm sure you all knew that already, but seriously, he's a genius.

The night before last, Patrick put Miles to bed. On a lark, he decided to try turning off the night light we've had on for five months straight (literally, I don't think it's been turned off once). Within minutes, Miles was fast asleep, and only woke once to eat. He slept from 11:00 - 5:00 and from 5:30ish to almost 10:00.

Not wanting to jinx it, I told no one.

Last night, Patrick put him down once more. Lights off. He was asleep within minutes, and slept from midnight until 8:30 this morning. It was glorious.

I'm just hoping this trend continues. I was starting to lose my mind from lack of sleep. :)

Quick Update

We are finally getting over the cold!

Today, Miles was back to his smiling, happy, cooing self. Complete with dinosaur noises. :)

Sleep is still elusive, but what can you do?

And, my son is amazing. Today, while eating his squash, he grabbed at the spoon. Out of curiosity, I gave it to him. He put it in his mouth, and sucked the squash off of it, then gave it back to me for more. He did this twice! before realizing that Mommy could shovel faster. He dropped the spoon and opened his mouth, just waiting for me to do the work for him. Silly boy. :)

That is all for now, as I have a massive headache. Which is sad, since I have all sorts of fun stories about Miles craning his neck to watch out the car window on the way to work this morning. And making dinosaur noises while I was on the phone with one of our performers. And playing with Maestro at lunch. And several more that I will try to remember to type up when my head feels less like exploding. Good night, all!

Nap-Free

I have been waiting all day for five minutes to type something up. No luck yet. Miles has had 3 naps today: 20 minutes at 11:00, 45 minutes while I was shopping, and 20 minutes on my chest at around 3:30.

He hasn't been particularly fussy, or anything. Just. . . awake. Even though I can see in his little red-rimmed eyes that he is exhausted. But, there is too much fun stuff going on, I guess.

Even now, as I write this, he is awake, playing in his bouncer, though he started rubbing his eyes over an hour and a half ago. He was nearly asleep when I laid him in his crib, but he quickly decided he was hungry. He was nearly asleep when he finished his bottle, but he quickly found that the crib slats were incredible fun to play with. He was almost asleep on my lap again, until the dog moved, and that was fascinating.

Now, he's talking to the flower toy on his bouncer, doing everything he can to keep himself awake.

Oh, well, maybe that means he'll sleep tonight?

Need coffee........

Ugh, I'm tired. . . .

Miles has apparently decided that sleep is for the weak.

Well, son, Mommy is weak. Please let her sleep.

For some reason, he decided that he needed to be awake every hour and a half last night. Except between 3:00 and 4:30, when he just decided to whine to keep himself up the entire time. There was nothing wrong, no signs that he had anything to whine about. But every time his eyes would start to droop even a little, he'd start flailing his arms, making this "uhhhhaaahhh" whine to wake himself back up.

I expected the first few weeks to be bad, but instead, he slept for four hour stretches from the time he came home from the hospital. By eight weeks, he was sleeping through the night, solid blocks of eight to ten hours. I started to think I could handle motherhood.

Now, he's sleeping like I expected him to as a newborn - waking constantly, rarely needing anything.

Except, not really. Because the night before last, he slept straight through without a problem. And yesterday, he had two really good naps, and several shorter ones, as he has for weeks, now.

Someone told me the other day to "sleep when he sleeps." I have, of course, heard this, and have taken it to heart. Unfortunately, the last time I tried to nap with him, I woke to him literally screaming in my ear, so it wasn't terribly restful.

Thank goodness for Patrick, who helped me through the night, then made me coffee this morning. I have the most awesomest husband ever. :)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go finish the pot of coffee so I can manage to keep up with my son . . . :)

The Joys of Teething

So, today has been a looooooooong day.

Let me just start by saying that teething is a b*tch. Seriously. Those top two teeth are thisclose to coming through the gums, but they just won't do it. Which results in a baby who gnaws on his hands constantly. Which causes him to gag, and puke, and worry his Mama. It also results in a baby who can no longer sleep through the night.

I knew it was too good to be true when he started sleeping from 10:00pm until 8:00 am every night - starting at about 8 weeks old. Last night, he finally zonked out around 10:30, and I followed suit about a half an hour later. At 3:30, he woke up screaming, gnawing on his fists like there was no tomorrow. We patted him, soothed him, gave him a bottle, and he finally fell back asleep around 4:00. About 5:30, he woke up fussing because his pacifier had fallen out. I gave it back, and he went right back to sleep. He woke up screaming at 7:00, gnawing on those hands again, but not really wanting anything. Patrick soothed him this time, and Miles finally fell back asleep at 7:30. Patrick's alarm started going off at 7:40, and by 8:00, all three of us were up for the day.

In any other context, that sort of sleep interruption would constitute torture. Do you think we can get the UN Peacekeepers to come talk to Miles about this? :)

Not having had enough sleep, Miles was a little cranky-butt for about 20 minutes after waking up. He finally decided that he wanted the bottle I had been shoving in his face since he woke up. Then, all was better for awhile. We played with the play gym. We had tummy time. We played with a jingle ball. Ate another bottle. Lots of happy smiles all around.

Around 10:30, he finally started getting sleepy, so I popped him in his stroller (which makes a great portable bed, by the way), got him all settled with a pacifier and his Glow Worm, and put him in the bathroom so I could take a quick shower. 20 minutes later, he was still awake, fighting sleep, as only he knows how. I scooped him up and we cuddled down for a cozy little nap.

45 minutes later, he decided that screaming his head off into Mom's ear was an appropriate way to wake her. :(

He was hungry, still making up for the food he lost in the fiasco that was Sunday, I guess. He ate again, and was happy to play again. This time, I laid him beside me on the couch to nap while I grabbed some lunch. I was hoping this would be his long nap. No such luck. 20 minutes later, he woke up, hungry again.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Now, we're in the nap section of our little cycle, and I'm wondering how long it will last this time. If I thought for a moment that it would last for a reasonable amount of time, I'd curl up on the floor next to him. As it is, I've been awakened by a screaming baby enough for one day.

And, through all of this, he is gnawing on his hands as though he planned to swallow them, arm and all. The two teeth still haven't pushed through, but they're there, just beneath the surface, every time he bites down on my finger. I keep hoping that next time he bites, it will be a little sharper, because that may mean a little relief for my handsome little man.

In the meantime, anyone know the number for the UN?

The Learning Curve

Miles manages to learn something new everyday.

Yesterday, he learned that sometimes, Daddy takes things apart (this time it was the dryer). He also learned that this process is fascinating. Even the third time in a row.* He just stood in his bouncer, watching as the dryer was deconstructed, and then reconstructed, bouncing at the exciting bits.**

Yesterday, he also learned that food can sometimes have texture. Rice cereal was a hysterical mess. We were smart enough to strip him down to his diaper, then realized that he couldn't sit up well enough to sit in the high chair. So, we pulled out the baby bathtub, and fed him there. The first two bites were promptly spit out in wild-raspberry fashion. (i.e. all over the place!) But, after that, he started to get the hang of it, and actually swallowed about 4-5 spoonfuls by the time he was done. Nevermind the fact that I had offered him probably 12-15 spoonfuls, most of which now covered him. It was bath time!

Except for one thing: in my smugness, I somehow hadn't connected the dots that he would need to be bathed in the bathtub after eating - which he was doing in his bathtub. Yeah, I now win the "Duh" award for the day. . .

So, Daddy got the glorious prize of being allowed to hold a sticky, yucky, cereal-covered little boy, while Mommy cleaned out the tub and filled it with water. No permanent physical damage resulted. Though, Patrick is still claiming long-term psychological scarring. . . :)

And in all of this, I learned something, too. Parenting is so much easier when Daddy is home. :)

*Our dryer is making funny noises, so Patrick took it apart, fixed what he thought was wrong, then had to put it all back together to see if he was right. He was the third time! :)

**Apparently, the front coming off was exciting, but not the removal of the drum. Strange child. . .

Sleep Deprivation Makes You Stupid

Yeah, I think that about says it all, really.

Miles woke up at about 4:30 this morning, and was just laying there, happily playing with his feet. He had done this the night before, and just gone straight back to sleep, so I thought no big deal.

Yeah. An hour and a half, a bottle, and lots of crying and flailing later, he was still awake. And now, he was pissed about it.

Finally, I realized that he may need a diaper change. Miles is the only infant I've ever seen who gets REALLY upset when his diaper isn't clean. (I'm hoping this will make for easier potty-training, but who knows. . .) Sure enough, the poor kid had a dirty diaper the whole time. I got him all cleaned up, and the crying stopped. I felt so bad, I let him snuggle in bed with me for the rest of the morning.

Well, until my phone alerted me that I had a new e-mail at 8:00, since I forgot to turn the sound off last night. . .

Now, Miles is napping peacefully on the couch next to me, unaware that the day ahead is going to be filled with adventures. On our to-do list for the day:

- Try rice cereal for the first time. He's been eating constantly for two weeks, and seems really interested in "real" food, so we're going to give it a whirl. I have a feeling I'm about to end up covered in goo again. . . which is the reason for:

- Bath time! Miles' cradle cap goes away like magic after every bath (and a treatment of baby oil), but is back by the next day. We're going to try bathing more often to see if that helps, though I may decide to back off if I find that it's drying his skin out too much.

- Pick up his crib! It arrived at the store on Wednesday. It's all paid for and everything (thanks to the awesomeness of friends and family who gave us Wal-Mart gift cards as baby gifts!). All we have to do is pick it up and assemble it. . . oh, and figure out where to put it. . . :)

I'd better take advantage of his nap time to catch some snoozes myself! G'night, all!