Narrowly Escaping Psychosis

{We are a family of four. Some of us are a little cranky about it.}

Kids. How are yours? Well, mine, thanks for asking, have been driving me bonanzas. (That's a fun way of saying bananas. Sidenote: Adam thinks "a raisin" is a fun way of saying "amazing." Trips me up every time.) I have had many blog posts composed in my head asking, "Why, why, why oh merciful heavens why? Why kids, why? Help me! Why? Kids!!!" Every day has been ostrich day: bury your head in the sand and plow. (I don't know if ostriches actually plow when they're down there, but that's what kind of special ostrich I am: the plowing kind.)

I have been largely mentally unsound. So much so that watching Shawshank Redemption recently made me ENVY prison folk. They get to be alone! They get to hang out with their buddies! They get time to enjoy their little hobbies, like carving chess pieces and holes in the wall for escape! They get to escape! (Spoiler alert.) Even if it means crawling through five football fields of shiz to do so, they get to go free! And for those who are lucky enough to stay behind can look forward to solitary confinement! SOLITARY CONFINEMENT?! YES, PLEASE! If I could only be so blessed to spend my days at Shawshank Prison!

Through all of this two child business I have realized I have not been blessed with a superpower that other mothers of multiple children seem to have. This superpower I will call: High Tolerance for Pure Chaos and Never-ending Insanity. I can deal with food messes but I can't deal with food grime (aka food mess that becomes part of the furniture). I can deal with cartoons but the volume must be almost too low to actually hear. I can have toys out but at night toys must go back in (the nursery). I can have a baby, but that baby needs to sleep for heaven's sake. And stop fussing once in awhile! Geez!

Which brings me to some good news: I do believe we have turned a corner with Noah's sleep. And this, my dear family and friends who care about my mental state, is how I will narrowly escape life-long debilitating psychosis. The last two nights he has gone to sleep around 8 pm. This means from the hours of 8 pm to 10 pm (or if I am feeling fancy, 11 pm), I get to be me. ME! Glorious, alone, quiet, solitary me! And if Adam is home from work at that time (lately it has been 9 pm), then all the better! We get to be WE! Even better than ME! Although I still need some me. Which usually means a hot bubble bath. No music, books, or thinking allowed! In better, more energy-filled days it will mean running. (Oh, how I miss thee, workout!) And, good old Noah, he is pretty good at staying asleep for long stretches at night. He never misses the 5 am wake-up, but if he's feeling fancy he may throw in a 1 am or 3 am wake-up. But none of this every two hour wake-up business that some babies dish. Or that dreadful 11 pm wake-up that was a Sienna classic.

Now, listen, if this is me getting ahead of myself, so be it. I expect things to change. What are babies best at besides coos and smiles and crying? Changing. So, if he puts up a stink and goes to bed at 10 pm tonight? I will be glad I had two nights at 8 pm and just know that they are possible. Knowing that is powerful! Knowledge is power! Yes! And Mr. Noah, I feel like I am finally getting to KNOW you.

Too Lazy for Two

(Noah finally asleep right now after I laid down with him for an hour. We were snoozing nicely until Sienna started yelling "No! NOOOOOO!" from her crib. Two kids! BAH?)

After I had one kid, I thought: how do people have more than one kid? After two, I'm thinking: how do people have more than two? I'm pretty sure there will come a day when I think I'm ready for three. But, friends and family, listen to me. If you care about the well-being and safe-keeping of me, Adam, Sienna, Noah remember this: you MUST, absolutely MUST talk me out of it. Shake me by the shoulders, slap me in the face, step on my toe all while yelling: "NO! Don't do it! You can't handle newborns! They are not for you! Please! For the love of Pete! You must stay on The Pill! It is really for your own good! Please! Pete! Please! Do it for the children!!!!!!! Martha!!!!!!! Pete!!!!!!!!!! Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaseee!!!"

Seriously, folks, how is it done? Because most days I am just not doing it. I thought I knew how to take care of a newborn since I've done it once before, but I don't. There are not enough miles to walk to make Noah fall asleep. There are not enough muscles in my arms to hold him. There are not enough hours at night in which to sleep. There is not enough patience in my heart to wish he'd stay little forever. How is it done? Really. How?

I'll tell you how it's done. They grow up, that's how it's done. Yes, there are some things about newborns that are easier than toddlers. Noah eats one food. That's his choice, and he likes it. He's pretty portable still. It helps that of all places he likes to sleep, he'll happily take smashed next to me in my Ergo carrier while walking around the playground. As long as I'm holding him and walking (thousands of miles) he's happy. But I would take a toddler over a newborn any day. Sienna can walk, she can talk, she can sing, she can play. She is so fun and so sweet. She knows how to hug and kiss! Please, Noah, start walking and talking soon! That's the only way I am ever going to feel like I can keep you around. Because right now you are just too much dang work. I am lazy, see? And I am tired of being your pack horse.