Out of Time

As I yelled about shared earlier this week, we are going into production on our short film. I'm officially, as of yesterday, damn busy.

And as I shared last week, the boy is moving faster now - impossibly fast. So when he is awake I'm watching him intently as he swims around on the floor like a pinball in search of the most points. Or in the kitchen he's doing laps under my feet as I do dishes and wish I am a fly with extra eyeballs.  Or mostly I've resorted to wearing him in the Ergo if I want to be in any room that he can't be scooting around in (most of them). So as of last week, I'm officially damn busy.

The boy on the move really presents alot of problems. And like everything else in parenthood when first presented with it, it seems pretty unsolvable and overwhelming in a throat-closing way. Okay now - Baby gates? Baby proofing? Little latches and plug covers and drape cord management systems? Most moms I know around here hire a professional to come in and do this thing and it's done, just done. So I imagine that these families fall asleep with sweet smiles and have good nurturing dreams and awake refreshed and happy to face another safe day filled with happy baby playing sounds. Unlike me with the soundtrack of my grinding teeth through the night. Awake to a new day of tiny boy chasing that comes with worry and wonder and discovery of the dastardly danger that lurks around every sharp corner.

you: Call the professional baby proofer.
me:  Harumph, this is not really in my budget right now.
you: Go to Target.
me: Harumph.

I mean I will and I am but I just hate to buy all of these plastic crap, plastic gates or other plastic things that require installing them. And oh crap, who's going to install them? The other day I put dog and boy into the car to go to the mountain and as I buckled BHB into the car seat I heard myself think, 'Whew, at least he's safe'. In a car. In Los Angeles. This can't be good.

Friends, what the hell do we do with the ficas tree that he constantly wants to shove his little baby hands into or eat the leaves with his little baby mouth? I LOVE this tree. I don't want to put it outside. Sure we live in California and sure it will probably be just fine but but but! I don't wanna! Perhaps this tree represents my last shred of individuality, the last little bastion of me, the sappy ass adult who wants a pretty damn tree in the room. I know, I know, it's going.

This lil play pen is the only true solution, we call it the baby hot tub.

As you can see he looks pretty damn happy in it, and thank god he is. Of course I read the RIE parenting books and they make me feel like a rotten terrible person because I haven't created the safe room that he can just be in. And the hot tub is too small.

But for now it's the best solution for the occasional trip to the bathroom.

Or the 14 minutes of dishes until we can strap him into the high chair where he'll be safe until we can strap him into the carseat where he will be safe until I can strap him into the stroller and push him up a hill until we can then strap him into...the shopping cart and then I will strap him onto my chest to walk to to the car and then. Thank god for straps.

Of course we do release him on the floor occasionally and then follow him around going:

 Oh well no honey um let's go this way and opps a cord and nope let's not do that and oh wow look at all of these big books at your level ready to tumble down on your sweet head or the stack of CD's that you really? Are going to pull the middle one out? And holy cats that cool antique tool box is built to hurt a baby have you ever seen anything more lethal oh boy, let's play with these super cool blocks made out of foam but oh man they are made in china? Uh-oh they are painted but sheesh please go ahead and eat these. Please little one, I'm begging you...sit down in one spot and gnaw on these blocks..

Google is going to have a field day with the ad's on this one, so much good crap to sell. Do you have any suggestions? Things that worked for you? A padded room I can borrow?

Yours in the 'whelm,



PS - I love this picture. You can tell he's really enjoying this hike. And that strap looks uber safe too.

What Dreams May Come

You know, I should have left this title for a super oovey-groovey post about Angelsnshit but I am too lazy to come up with another way of saying - dreams do come true. It can happen to you, if you're tough at heart....

Well, not heart tough actually, more like heart-filled with love, tears coming down your face but loving your little person enough to set a boundry and help him learn something all the while with endless love you are psychically sending from the next room as you are furtively writing down the times and resetting the timer and walking in and carefully leaving in thirty seconds and sighing and crying and hoping it will end soon. But here's the result.

It works.

He's sleeping Through, not around, not beside, not above, not below and not any other preposition. Through the night.

Can I hear a what, what?

Last night was the one week anniversary of the first night of letting the boy cry which as you know from the recap sucked. And the rest of the score?
Check it out:

Night One - 1:01
Night Two -: 20
Night Three - : 04
Night Four -  :38 - * I speculate it was rougher here due to the fact that we were stressed around here getting ready for an event the next day...
Night Five -  :28
Night Six - :03
Night Seven - :02

Last night he slept from 7:03 pm to 6:30 am. I'm beside myself (and more prepositions). The previous two nights before we only heard about four minutes of crying somewhere deep in the night. You know deep in the night, the part where I used to jump and and run in there and feed his little face sometimes a little dangerously because I couldn't remember doing it? That part. Now I raise my head and my hand enough to jot the time and make sure the crying doesn't go past five minutes, because then I would have to do something. Holy hallelujah.

So I do not intend this as cyber bragging, it is not. It is me saying the following. When I birthed this little boy I said 'hellsnonowaynohow am I letting him cry it out, those people are savages'. No offense to you people, I know you know. But now after the last four months of the rocking, swaying, singing, feeding, rocking, swaying, feeding singing to sleep and the four and five times up before actually finally going down making it a three hour process sometimes, I've changed my tune.

We did it all in one fell swoop. Nights, weaning from night feedings as well as naps. All at once. All from the Sleepy Planet program. Totally recommend this, it's working great as his naps are even shaping up really well too. Today he was down for two this morning, and I just put him down for midday and we heard 30 seconds of crying and then nothin'. We'll see him in an hour or so. Peeps, I'm just sayin'. It's a freakin' miracle.

Here's the link again. Big shout out of love to those purty ladies, big ol recco on the DVD as well. Sorry this is a big commercial for them, but you know - I want to say to my comrades suffering out there - I'm out of baby jail and life is pretty sweet.

Grumpy Bobblehead

According to one of the books I read to make sure I feel completely guilty and overwhelmed by the responsibility of shaping this young man's life, destiny, and huge therapy bills, the brain is pretty much built in these formative years. And so by doing the right stuff, like lots of face time and putting the iPhone Down you can affect IQ by 30 points or more. Apparently at birth 10% of neurons are linked and working and that multiplies to where 90% of the wiring is in by age two! So grow those synapse's little one - get 'em while they're hot.

This weighs heavily on me, and the books have differing opinions. Stimulate! Neurons need entertainment food, like Hulu for the drooling set. Or, baby needs sleep. Work your life around a nap schedule and Suck it up if you think you get to go out of the house for more than 60 minutes at a time or at night. If you don't sleep train him you'll suffer and so will he. If you do, the stress from the crying will kill all of that good face time and the IQ points you've worked so hard for are lost. So the books battle it out there on my bedside table and in my brain and basically the result is a delicious new feeling - Mommy Guilt. Oh it's yummy juice, part crushing shame, part low-level constant anxiety, add a dash of hormones for drama and a squeeze of lemon. (as in lemon in a paper cut)

So when the lil bobblehead is grumpy there are many reasons that he could be so - ALL of them my fault. I didn't catch the pre-nap stare and he's overtired. I missed my fish oil yesterday or god forbid I ate any of the b'feeding no-no's like chocolate, caffeine, tomatoes or you know, brown rice. Who knows what might piss off a little guy via milk. He's overstimulated? Under-stimulated. He needs to learn baby signs and oops I probably missed the window to teach him French. And thanks to my over-achieving control-freaky personality I'm obsessively trying to do this 'right' and as you can see, it's awesome!

I guess the best I can do is have a lil gratitude about the fact that the post-partum-depression fairy hasn't visited in while. Anyone else friends with that little bee-yatch? She's an odd one - she visits some of the momma's, not all of us. Just the lucky ones who get to endure the fawking hormonal-coaster from hell where all perspective is lost and no good yummy "I love my baby" feelings are to be found. I was lucky that while she did bitch-slap me pretty hard for the first weeks, it subsided around week 7. Oh the PPD fairy still does a drive-by here and there and I'm lost in the soup of self-pity and crushing despair, inadequacy and suicidal thoughts. And then I'm fine. And he's cute and I'm cheerfully trying to find the words to little bunny fu-fu so I can sing them to him. Of course I have to get the words right and I wonder if the lyrics are too dangerous for his little ever exponentially expanding mind. But! It does explain the big head.

Finally in my 2nd way-too-long post I want to give a shout out of thanks to Stefanie for linking me up. You are such a beacon of sanity and humor for all of us lost Mommies.