Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Delay Tactics

So. It turns out I haven't even had time in the last month to post the photos I promised. Between my broken arm and Chris' 3.5-week absence and buying a home and our tornado-of-a-toddler and my regular job, I barely have time to shower before 3 p.m. most days. Please tell me I'm not the only one who stays in her pajamas when she works from home.

But Chris is back now so I have an extra few minutes a day.

We are trying to break Q of the habit of sleeping in our bed, but it's not going all that well. It takes about two hours to put him to bed every night, me contorted into nearly impossible positions in his crib toddler bed next to him, using one of his approximately forty-five stuffed animals as my pillow and trying to ignore the cramping in my right foot. He thinks this is tickle time, so we giggle for a bit. Then we have to find every. single. thing. he sleeps with: both stuffed doggies, the music giraffe and the other giraffe, his blankie, his water cup, and--for good measure--the miniature tractor my sister-in-law got him for our trip to Idaho last month. If he rolls over or changes position, the "where's doggie? where's tractor?" game starts all over again while we round up the cast of characters.

Once everything is in place, he starts the list of people he loves. "I ruv you, Sha-shoo (Charlotte). Ruv you, Nee-nee (Sydney). Ruv you, Owee (Owen). Ruv you, Nannan (Xander)." And my favorite: "Ruv you, Mama." It's adorable. He is the master of delay tactics. And I am terrible at discipline, because I'm also not-so-secretly soaking this up, loving every minute of these cuddles, amazed at Quinn's capacity to instantly improve my mood after a rough day.

At some point, I have to leave the room house, which Quinn doesn't love. Chris calms him down, and eventually, Q falls asleep. I get a text telling me it's okay to come back inside. This has gone on every night since Chris has been home, except the night we got a babysitter, who of course had no problem getting Quinn to fall asleep right at 7:00.

As for me, I'm just about to give up and let Q sleep in our bed again, even if it does mean getting kicked in the head all night. And hair that looks like this in the morning:





Thursday, February 14, 2013

Scapegoat

Somebody in this household is a sleep rebel, and it's neither me nor lazy cat #1 or #2. Even wearing a professionally tailored sleep-sack (so that it's narrower at the feet) (and, yes, really), Quinn can still hoist himself up and over his crib railings. Kid is strong. You should just go ahead and buy your tickets for the 2028 Summer Olympics now. We'll keep you posted on which event, but my guess is high jump. Or pommel horse

Consequently, he's been sleeping with me every night while Chris is out of town, which means Quinn is going to bed much later than he should and I don't have any time in the evenings to catch up on Top Chef write. That's my excuse anyway. Easy out: blame the kid.

Not to mention getting-kicked-in-the-face-all-night. What is it about sleeping horizontally across the head of the bed that's so appealing to them? I want to be all "Don't you know better, dude?" but then I remember that he doesn't, in fact, know better. He's not even two yet.

Short of handcuffing him to the crib rails (seriously, it's been suggested), I'm at a loss as to how to get him to stay in his room safely at night. Crib tents have been banned and his door isn't lockable. I'd retrofit it if we hadn't already sold our house. It's bad to resort to Benadryl every night, right?

It's a good thing he's so cute: 


But, Buddy, those bags under your eyes are hereditary and they're only going to get worse if you don't sleep. Just look at me if you have doubts. Don't say I didn't warn you when you're on your worldwide pommel horse media tour.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

In the Works

I'm playing with a new look for the blog. It was time for a facelift (or boob job, as the case may be). As I've mentioned before, I'm not very technically inclined, although I'm hoping to get some help on that front soon. For now, please let me know what you think of the new format. My hope is it's easier to navigate.

I'm also hoping to start posting more photos here, especially as my hair grows out and we move into a new house, assuming we find one. Photos like these from last weekend in Idaho, where dear friends got engaged, Quinn fell in love with an older girl, rebelled against pants, and learned what that cold powdery stuff called snow is. Take a peek.






More photos may be my less-than-sneaky way of not writing quite as much in this space over the next few months. I'm finally diving into a project I've been procrastinating mulling over for awhile now - a book telling the story of my experiences over the last eighteen months. So many of you have been nudging me in this direction, and, to make a long story short, I hit it off with a literary agent who agreed to represent me and try to get this project off the ground. 

So my to-do list over the next couple of months looks something like this:
  • Heal broken arm
  • Be a one-armed single parent to a strong-willed monkey for the next couple of weeks
  • Find a house to buy
  • Pack up current house/find movers/pray we don't need to move into a rental
  • Have the second half of my reconstruction surgery
  • Deliver an outline and couple of chapters to my agent
  • Maintain current full-time job
  • Beg Chris to give up his Africa trips once and for all
Photos might be all I can manage on the blog for a bit, so I'll at least try to make them cute.