Major Mammory Meltdown

There we were, my boys and I, laying in my bed in a big cuddle, as so happens almost every delightful morning.  I had just finished nursing Avery, and the wee ones and I were settling down to read some stories before venturing downstairs for breakfast and yet more stories.

I started to pay a bit of attention to Rohan, reading him one of his all time favourite books (the Lorax, my little environmentalist), when Avery, in usually form, decides that this extra attention to his brother is absolutely unacceptable.  After a bought of stream rolling us he decided that the only other option to take my full attention would be to nurse yet again.

Now, don't get me wrong here, I still very much enjoy our nursing/cuddle time.  Even though he pinches and punches me.  Even though I have to press my arm firmly against the unnursed teat to prevent him from sliding his hand up/down my shirt and kneading the other breast or, gag, trying to tweak the nipple.  Uggh.  But I refuse to nurse him on the same kind of regular basis that he required as an infant.  Besides the fact that he really does not need it to keep him alive and that the more he nurses, the more I produce, I just want my boobies to myself for a while!

So anyway, back to the story.  Avery started aggressively signing milk in my face and contorting himself into the most optimal nursing position.  I told him in no uncertain terms that we were all done and that there was none left. Well I don't know if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed that fateful morning, but he started getting pretty mad at me.  Well actually, not so much me as my unavailable mammories.  He shoved his face right up close to my sacks of liquid gold and yelled at them as if he were telling them the whats what of his nursing desire.

Hilarious.  His face right up to them screaming at the top of his lungs.  I think he even gave them a couple of closed fist punches he was so mad.  Oh man, if I was a tougher mom than I am, and not totally amused and smitten by his temper, I would probably be attempting the weaning process about now. 


Nope.  Not me.  Onward in the world of jug reduction!

Pictures!!

Who would have thought?  a toothbrush!

Avery spent more time with the bike than his bro!

The middle of his 4 hour Bakyardigan a thon!

Finally testing the big boy bike!

A few pictures of the previously mentioned day of birth celebrations!  Dang these are some cute kids of mine!

How to Rock your 4th Birthday

If you have ever thought to yourself  'how would I rock my birthday if I was a wee lad of 4?'  well, I have some tips straight from the source for ya.

First you need to wake up way too early in the morning to the sounds of your little brother making screamy whiny sounds for no good reason.  You will then need to stay put in your bed until your mom finally arrives with a stack of sneaky multigrain (healthy) pancakes with mounds of maple syrup, and a bottomless glass of apple juice, all placed lovingly on a special tray, sat with a wrapped present from grandma.

Next you eat more pancakes then you ever have before, drink more apple juice then your body can possibly handle and delightedly place super cool stickers on your super cool buzz buzz toothbrush, personalizing grandma's gift yo!

The next logical step would be an out right refusal to leave the bed.  Then, grudgingly leave the bed, but absolutely refuse to get out of your jammies.  A declared Pajama Rama Day!

Next, take a leisurely stroll, seated comfortably in a stroller like a king, demanding stuff from your servant (mother).

After purchasing some dinner goods from the store, go home and sit in from of the computer and watch Backyardigans .........for the rest of the day, while eating popcorn on the couch, in your pajamas, and drinking (spilling) a tall glass of milk.  Only pausing your show in order to pee, poop and check out your awesome, rad, big boy two wheeler bike that your super awesome, rad parents got for you for your birthday.  Ride it for a second in the porch, go directly back to the computer and back to the beloved Backyardigans.  Backyardigan-athon commences.

After an astonishing 4 straight hours glued to the computer, finally drag yourself outside in order to enjoy the last remaining rays of sun before dinner.

Top this rock awesome day off with a meal consisting of eggs benedict and steamed broccoli with hollandaise.  The only possible way to end this day would be more stories then you are ever allowed to have, milk and water before bed, and drifting off to dream land cuddled up with daddy........best birthday EVER!

Winter in April

Here we are on a normal late April day, enjoying the sunshine in our t-shirts..

Not two days later, snow suits were taken out of storage......

I had wrongfully assumed that Avery's first chance to walk through snow for the first time would be delayed until next winter.  You mess with Mother Nature, She messes back!

Whew, mission complete

So the first night of baby torture, or 'sleep training', or 'remembering', was pretty awful.  A lot of screaming and crying and not knowing what the eff was going on and where in the world was mom.  It was painful.  It lasted and hour.  I thought it might never end.

Second night, same sound coming from le bebe, screams of uncertainty, of change, of wanting a warm body to comfortably  lay up against in order to drift happily and content off to sleep.  This night the tears stopped after half and hour.

The third night, I braced myself for some more anger, tears, screaming, chest clenching, breath restricting, shoulders tensing.................nothing.  When I eventually checked on him, he still had the blanket on him.  He didn't even stand up to for quick shout of rage before he drifted into dream land.  The three day lucky is actually true (well for me anyway).

I don't regret the delay in sleep training.  I really really enjoyed laying down with the wee one, watching as his little eyelids grew heavier and heavier, listening to his soft breath slowly getting louder and louder with the sound of baby snoring.  For the most part, I loved sleeping with my baby.  But sleeping was something I just wasn't getting a whole lot of during that time.  He sleeps through the night now.  Just like that.  Bam.  Three days.  Now I need to stop waking up to every little mumble he makes in his sleep.  He needs to move out of my room.

Now to find the time to completely rearrange the entire upstairs sleeping situation.............maybe next month!

Day two is WAY better

So I have finally caved.  After nearly 4 years of broken sleep at night, I have decided to take a stand for my sanity.  Maybe even give myself a chance to be a happier, well rested..........cheerful even, mother.  I can feel this overwhelming crankiness take me over on most days, I guess I can now see why.  Sleep is important.  Not only for myself, but for the wee ones.

This is good for him, it teaches him the essential life skill of putting himself to sleep, a skill he knew before Jack Frost started nipping at our noses, one that slowly drifted away with the assistance of his over protective, smothering mother.  A fever here, a cold room there and bam, the wee one, who was the best sleeper ever, is in my bed and only falling asleep while in my arms or laying down beside me in my bed

  This is good right?

As I lay with Rohan, listening to the tortured screams of my little baby, going against all of my maternal instincts to nurture and comfort when upset, I had to repeat the mantra 'this is for you, this is for me, we need to sleep child before we LOSE it'.  This is so when I one day decide to go out at night I will enjoy myself and not feel horrible for making someone else deal with having to put him down to sleep. For those nights that the man is away and I am left to my own devices, trying to get both boys to bed without having to lay down with both of them in my bed while reading a book with a flash light.

This is good.  This is good.

This is awful.  I hate this.  I never thought I would be the mom to do the 'crying it out' method.  I know that he is fine, he is full, he is clean, he is VERY tired.  But he screams.  Loudly.  Very very loudly.  I just want to lay down with him and give up the battle.  But I won't.  This is day two.  No backtracking.  15 minutes.  Will this traumatize him for bed time from here on in?  Am I screwing myself?  Nope, don't talk your way out of it, it is okay, he still loves you.

It took an hour last night.  I can't believe I made it.  He would trick me with these little pauses and I would breath out a sigh of relief, ahhhhh thank god, he is finally sleeping.  Then the tortured screams would come out again.  Damn.    Please go to sleep, please go to sleep.

Rohan drifted contently off to sleep without a worry in the world!  A good sign for putting them into the same room together I guess.  Yes, my baby, at one and a half is still in my room.  I wish I could say that I am done with it, but I kind of still love it.  I love having him in my room, I love having him in my bed.  That is probably what makes it the hardest, giving up having my baby to snuggle with at night.

Whew, this really really sucks.

I am sorry Avery, I love you, please go to sleep...........

Lavender the Cure

So I have not been getting much sleep lately.  Both the boys have been taking over my bed and waking me up periodically through the night requesting water, boob or a change of clothes due to wetting the bed.  This has made me and them pretty cranky kittens in the morning.  The big guy, in a separate room, gets a full night sleep every night.  Lucky bastard.

So, after several torturous weeks of broken sleep I finally came up with a wild and fantastic way to get the wee ones into and staying in, blissful dream land.  Lavender.  Lavender oil in fact.  So I went from room to room dropping lavender oil on all of their pillows, saying a silent prayer to the sleep gods as I went.

Was it a successful endeavor?  Nope.  But I sure felt like a fairy princess prancing around the bedrooms with my vile of lavender oil strategically tilted hovering over each boys pillow!  The upstairs smells lovely.  The boys are still waking up.  If it wasn't such a horrible idea to mix babies and rocks, I would be placing a small piece of amethyst in each of their pillows, with another prayer to the sleep gods of course!

For now, however, it will be an ongoing morning ritual of LARGE coffees and blood shot eyes!