And life is over as we know it…

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

It was a good run though.  Ten months, to the day, actually.

Yesterday, someone became mobile.

I knew it was coming, I wasn’t ready for it though.  Well, that’s not true, I was ready.  It was time.  But, I wasn’t one of those parents who was worried that their kid wasn’t crawling.  I enjoyed it.

I could leave a cup of coffee on the floor and know it would be okay.  Our baby gate has just been a decoration since summer. The floors didn’t really have to be particularily clean.  Just the throw rug in the living room where his toys are had to be taken care of.  And now?  Gone are the days of him staying where I put him.

(Granted, he’s been inchwormy for a while, but it was slow enough that he didn’t really do that much moving).

The army crawl on the stomach is in full swing, and it’s not going to be long before he figures out how to crawl.  Which I won’t mind, because man, are the floors due for a good cleaning and right now his belly is doing that for me.  He’s a helpful one, that Timbit.

Time crunch…

Like most people, I’m busy.

I’m running a dance studio with close to 200 students, I’m the primary teacher, and I have a 10 month old that keeps me on my toes.

Well, not quite yet, but my day is coming.  The Inchworm will be done soon, I have a feeling, and may or may not be graduating into full on running within the next couple of weeks/months.

(He does require a bit of attention and some Cheerios thrown his way once in a while though.  I do have to say though, his personality is turning into so much fun, these little baby people are more and more fun every day.)

(Except for the whining.  That’s new.  And drives me freaking bonkers.  He whines in frustration out of not getting his way, or getting to where he wants to go, or if the sun isn’t in the right corner of the sky…you get the idea.  Can’t wait until we grow out of that one.)

But back to busy…time, she is short in this house.  My day consists of getting work done during naps, and since I’m supporting a whole new life force again, I’m needing at least one of those naps during the day.  We zip off to the studio in the afternoon, where B is hopefully home early enough to take the little guy home before we reach meltdown (me or Timbit, not a huge distinction there somedays).   And then I get home late, feel nauseous because I haven’t eaten (and there’s only so many granola bars one can eat in a day), and go to bed.

Then I can’t sleep because that’s one of the side effects of pregnancy I seem to suffer, so it’s long after midnight before I go to bed.  Then someone gets up at the crusty hour of 6am, and lather, rinse, repeat.

I have paperwork coming out of my ears.  It’s quite uncomfortable, let me assure you.  the house looks like a disaster only two days after B goes on shift (because he’s a miracle husband and tends to keep the kitchen neat and the house sparkling when he’s here), and things are a never-ending battle until the next shift that he has off.  It’s a long two week stretch of single motherhood, let me tell you.

But, I know these moments will pass, and someday everything will be caught up, and at least I won’t regret not spending time with my kiddo instead of cleaning the house.

Because the house, she is definitely in need of some keeping, and it’s just not happening with me on duty.

I think I’ll end this post here, as I seem to have lost my original train of thought….not really surprising there either.

 

We must be crazy…

Never a disputed fact, but when your actions start to prove it, people start wondering if you should be going to the mental house.

So, it turns out, that after two and a half years of trying for Timbit, and all the various problems we had along the way, we are apparently going to be adding yet another member to this insanity that we call a house in June.

Yes, we are expecting.

Yes, we kind of planned it, but not really.

See, the argument at the time was that if we have another, the soonest we would start trying would be around the September mark, because having a baby in the middle of the dance year?  Not good.

So anywhere from June to August would be for good timing for a little wee one.  However, we also thought, that since the first one took so long, we would starting trying as soon as we could and keep them relatively close together.

Turns out we’re going to have them 17 months apart.  I know that other people have had them closer together, and further apart, and apparently this is our magic number.

It’s going to be a busy household, that’s for sure.

Timbit has taken it in stride, although, he doesn’t talk much yet.  At the ripe old age of almost 10 months, he is working on some teeth, but they still haven’t poked through, and he’s not quite mobile yet, which I’m thankful for.  He still stays on his little blanket at the studio, surrounded by his toys and when he gets tired of that, I give him some cheerios or applesauce, and life is good temporarily. When he gets really tired, he falls asleep in the carrier and has a quick powersnooze during a tap class.

This last shift, B has been getting home at around 7ish, so he’s been taking the little guy home and getting him to bed at a decent hour.  Bedtime has become a battle though, with him not wanting to go to sleep and fighting it for as long as he can.  We’ve started letting him cry it out a bit, only because rocking him to sleep has become a habit, and he still wakes up when he gets to his crib, and we have to start all over again.  I never thought I’d be the CIO parent, but right now, it’s the only option that seems to be working.  Somewhat.  It’s still not working completely, and it takes a while to get him to sleep, but once he’s out, he’s usually out for the night, unless he loses his soother and can’t find it right away.

As for the non-mobility, the days of that will be over soon as he does know how to scootch himself backward on the non-carpeted floors in the house, and managed to get himself under the table the other day.  Forward motion is hilarious though, he puts his little head on the floor, lifts up his butt with his toes, and lifts up his head and inchworms his way forward.  It’s so painful to watch though, you just want him to learn to crawl since the space of a few feet takes much longer than it should.  So cute though.

The teaching mommy…

I feel so accomplished. Since B is working nights and the crazy person that I am decided to keep running the studio, I am currently being a single mom. I have so far managed to get things going with the studio, I’ve managed to chip away at the laundry and the kitchen is sparkling.

However, I am exhausted. There’s a tired little boy who got dragged to the studio all week, and it turns out, like most babies, he doesn’t settle well when he’s exhausted. He’s been up earlier and at least once through the night and he’s been going to bed later than he should.

It’s almost ironic. The studio is looking to be good this year (or at least this week made me think that, we’ll see what happens next week) and I have a whole new set of priorities.

But I guess that’s usually the way things go, isn’t it?

Not a mover, but a shaker…

The boy, he’s 7 and a half months old.

He’s trying his darndest to crawl, but hasn’t seemed to figure out what the knees are for.  He’ll use his arms, not to pull, but to push, and eventually becomes this angry little reverse turtle because HE CAN’T MOVE FORWARD AND ALL THE DAMN TOYS KEEP ROLLING AWAY JUST OUT OF REACH AND HAVE WE COVERED THE FACT THAT WE CAN’T MOVE FORWARD???

Or he’ll be sitting and try to pull himself to standing, but those little marshmallow arms aren’t quite strong enough, but if you help him out a little bit and steady him, he’ll look pleased as punch because he’s standing now and life is wonderful.

For two seconds because it’s nap time.

He takes two naps a day.

He still gets up one or two times a night.

He’s half weaned, and I’m okay with that.  If he didn’t still get up in the middle of the night, he’d be completely weaned.  I’m lazy, breastfeeding is so much easier when you’re half asleep and don’t want to spend a whole minute waiting for formula to warm up in the microwave.

Yes, I microwave formula.  So sue me.

He eats cereal like a champ and might be allergic to bananas.

He can almost sit on his own, he just forgets that Gravity is a Law, not a suggestion sometimes. 

 He’s still in cloth, but we use disposables for camping trips and airplane trips. (He’s flown to Victoria and camped in Montana).

His passport picture is adorable.

He’s also very impatient and doesn’t allow his mother much time to update things about him.

More things to talk about, less time to do it in…

So, life, she motors on.

I now am the mother of a 4 and a half month old baby.  One who still gets up in the night 2 or 3 (or occasionally 1 or 4) to eat, or cuddle, or have a conversation.

The part where I say, “I now am the mother”, is a scary sentence.  I am a mom.  It feels weird to say that. 

Honestly, I still try to plan things and then remember that I have a child, I can’t do that.  Like offering to help my sister out with babysitting.  I offered my services, since they are in the middle of a move right now and she needed someone to watch the kids so that she and her hubby could finish cleaning the old house, until she pointed out that it might be a bit difficult to do that with a four month old while chasing a 1 and 2 year old.  Other people have done it, I’m sure, but it showed me just how much I volunteer my time without thought to the other people that live in the house, like my husband, and now my kiddo.  Wow, it’s like I have a family that I need to take care of now and I have to put them first now.  Weird.

But the little man, he is amazing.  He giggles, and laughes, and talks and has so much personality now, it’s so much better than the dark days of newborn land.  I suspect he may have been a bit colicky because shortly before his 4 month old shots, he suddenly became cheerful, and was frequently in a good mood.  I didn’t actually realize just how grumpy he was, until he stopped being grumpy all the time.  I’m not saying he doesn’t have the occasional meltdown anymore, if anything, he’s only providing me with a window to what’s going to happen in Toddlerland when he doesn’t get his way, but for the most part, he’s generally…happy.  It’s a really nice change.

He also survived his first flight.  We flew out to see my grandparents on Vancouver Island, and I honestly had been dreading it.  Recital ended the day before, and in a stroke of complete idiocy, I booked our flight for 8am the next morning.  When it takes over two hours to get to Big City where the airport is, and recital ended at 9:30pm.  So, Timbit was tired, we were tired, but we did manage to get to Big City, had a couple of hours of sleep, and made it to the airport…on time.  Probably will never happen again, but we did it.  Little Man was an angel…with a bit of fussing just as we started taxiing around the airport, I started feeding him, and he went to sleep shortly after.  The flight home was just a repeat of the way there, it honestly could not have gone any better.  All I can say is thank goodness we were not the ones with the screaming baby on the plane.

And now begins the newest dilemma of the summer.  With him weighing in just under 15 lbs at his 4 month appointment (14lb 12oz, and 23 3/4in), we now have to figure out what the heck kind of life jacket to find the wee one.  All approved life jackets are made for 20 pounders, and the boy, he’s just not there yet.  Not to say he won’t be there soon, but 5 pounds is a big deal on a little person.  Maybe we’ll just tape a couple of weights on him…or something.

Why having a 3 month old is way more fun than a newborn…

In lazy point form (due to said 3 month old temporarily amusing himself with bouncy chair):

-they can feed themselves.  Sure, you have to point them in the right direction, but he knows the boob and all ready to chomp down as soon as he sees it.  See also: hungry little alligator.

-they can laugh and giggle.  So awesome.

-they can have a conversation.  Sure it’s mostly goos, and aahs, and the occasional other sound that they manage to surprise themselves with, but it’s still a conversation.

-they’re awake more than they’re asleep, so you actually get to see some sort of personality.  Turns out, I can see the future 2 year old tantrums we’re going to be dealing with…my little redhead has a temper to match.

-they recognize you and will smile when they see you.

-plus, they’re more fun than a one year old, because they can’t move and we still don’t have to baby proof the house yet.  Yay for dangerous stairs and cables hung everywhere!

The blur…

Everyone tells you that the first few weeks of your child’s life is a blur.  It’s gone in a second, but when you’re living in that dark hole of sleep deprivation, it seems like it’s a never ending tunnel.

So cliche.

Yet so true.

I don’t remember a lot from the first few weeks of his life.  Partly because during the first few weeks, I had a dance studio to run with a new teacher coming in, and all life swirled around me as the bags under my eyes got bigger.  Life didn’t stop.  Five weeks into his life, he was going to the studio for extra rehearsals because the kids needed extra work.

And now, here is is, 12 weeks old tomorrow, and we’re starting to ease into a routine.  The smiles and the talking are so unbelievable heart melty, and he’s on the verge of giggling.  He does a indrawn squeaky breath and is so close to making laughing noise, it’s so very cool.  He actually looks at things now, instead of some random spot on the wall, and has on a few occasions had a conversation with the ceiling fan.

Right now, he’s in the wrap, snuggled like a bug, and sleeping away, giving me some internet time.  Life is good.  And about to get crazy.

Competitions for dance start in two weeks, and although it seems like it sneaks up every year, it seems like it’s even worse this year.  Poor kids had three teachers to go through, and some very different teaching styles to deal with.  But it has made me realize that something has to change.  I can’t teach for all these hours a night, not with a little one anymore, but at the same time, I can’t shut it down.  For all the complaining that I get, there’s so many more kids that are happy, and when I remember that, I can’t shut it down.  So I’m going to have to figure out what is going on next year for things, and maybe cut back on the competition groups.  With that, it might be less stressful in spring time, and Timbit won’t get shortchanged because his mom doesn’t have time to spend with him.

Because if that was the choice, the studio would be done.  He gets to come first.  And it’s nice to put my family first.  I just hope that it’s all going to work out in the end.

He’s a momma’s boy….

Which I don’t mind.

My little Timbit has had to, for the last couple of weeks, go to the studio with me for extra rehearsals.  Turns out, as long as he can hear me (and now starting to also be see me), he’s fine.  He doesn’t mind the tap shoes, or the hollering over 10 kids and their excited little stories.  But if he can’t hear me, all hell breaks loose.

But I don’t mind.  I know that someday, he’s going to be big and not want to cuddle with his mom anymore, and so I’m cherishing every moment.

Except for the occasional time of the random screaming, even though every need has been taken care of, and I still can’t figure out what’s troubling the little tyrant.  Not so much on the cherishing there.

But since those moment are getting farther apart than they used to be, life is good.

For the last two nights, he has slept for 7 hours at a time, which is great for him (not so much for the girls, but what do you do?), but of course, I stay up late, watching movies and catching up on adult life.

In sad news, he got his first set of shots yesterday (and weighed in at 12lb 4oz, 23.5 in, and was basically 50th percentile for everything except height which was between 50-75%), and the look he gave me while he cried the saddest cry in the world made me feel like the worst mother in the world.  I never thought I would be one to cry with my children, but his little body was so upset.  Fortunately, it only lasted a couple of moments, and he got on with his life, but those were a couple of very long moments.

But the part that makes it all worth it? 

The smiles and cooing and talking that he’s started doing the last couple of weeks.  They could melt a freaking glacier.

And that is why we’re even considering having a second one.  Eventually.

My life is on hold until nap time…

Timbit is now 10lb 7oz, according to his 6 week weigh in.  And he’s getting bigger.  Because he’s in cloth diapers, his booty is a bit bigger and is fitting some 3-6 month things already (mostly onesies).  Our baby is getting so big, so quickly.

Maybe I can hit a few more cliches?

He’s a tired little boy though.  If he doesn’t get a good solid nap of 2-3 hours in the day, he’s a little grump.  Someday, I know he’ll be able to tell me what he wants, but right now, I’m learning to decipher his cries and figure out what he’s telling me.  Right now, it seems like trial and error, but someday, I’ll look back at this time and miss it.

Even getting up in the middle of the night isn’t that bad, I know I’ll miss kissing his little downy head and rocking his little self to sleep at night.

I’m also repeating myself from post to post, so there’s definitely a lack of sleep going on.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way right now.