they burn when they're closed
spiderwebs or lightning bolts
streak across my eyes
For some reason I haven't been able to sleep more than four hours at a time lately. I have tried making lists before I go to sleep. I have tried making lists when I wake up and want to go back to sleep. This will, theoretically, tame the jabbering in my head that won't let me settle down – at least that's what I tell myself. But it doesn't work.
I try covering my eyes so that the room stays dark, because going to bed at 4:30 am every night means I sleep when the sun is brightest in my room in the mornings. It doesn't work.
I try rescue remedy.
A pillow over my head.
Chanting a single word over and over.
And yet, after that first 4 hours, I cannot go back to sleep.
I'm sure part of it has to do with my schedule. Being the night nurse for Ike-a-saurus is something that I honestly love. But it takes a toll when I can't sleep in the mornings.
Staying up with him gives me time to myself, and gives me time to write and mull and plan. If we ever get a regular night nurse I will really miss these late nights with him. He snoozes, I administer nebs and meds and bottles, and I get a chance to write for a while. It reminds me of being in college. Except for the nebs and meds and bottles part. Writing in the dark while other people are zonked in a chair – that's the college part.
Even so, I have got to start sleeping.
Where for art thou, sleep? My burning eyeballs miss you.
Very exciting! Thanks, Jeff!
fire and minor injuries
co-mingled with food
At first it didn't seem like much of a holiday today. I've been discombobulated with my days all week this week, and everyday just kind of blends into the other. The only real clue we were dealing with a holiday was that we didn't have a nurse coming to the house to help with Ike-a-saurus. No nurse tomorrow either. That's fine, though exhausting. It's been wonderful having just the family here, and it's fun for us to figure out ways to get everything done all day while still keeping the wee-est man in check.
He had free reign of the kitchen floor for a while this afternoon, until we realized he discovered how fast he can crawl. Then it was a race to baby proof as much as we could in the shortest amount of time possible. The kid was turbo-charged today.
As Ike-a-saurus was winding down, though, the wee one and the wee-er one were gearing up. Time for sparklers! Time for poppers! Time for chicken legs and cookies!
I took them out front for some sparkler fun and made the mistake of planting a sparkler in the dry (though deceptively green) yard. Right about the time the sparkler was fizzling out, the grass was catching fire.
Lots of scrambling for water as the kids laughed me. I could hear Benny Hill music in my head as I ran around like a crazy person. At least I wasn't in my underwear.
So the fire was out and we decided that was enough excitement for the evening – or I did, at least – and brought the kids in to get them ready for bed. Because of the holiday, I gave the kids glow-in-the-dark bracelets to take to bed with them. Fun, right?
Well, while we were laying down reading stories, the wee-er one decided to bite her bracelet. I took it from her to see if she had poked a hole or not and as I bent the bracelet around to see A huge spray flew into the air. A geyser of glow-in-the-dark purple. Most of it landed in my eye, and the rest landed on the wee one's forehead. Again, Benny Hill music, lots of laughing, me screaming, etc.
So far, I am not blind. But, dude. Ouch. I'm hoping maybe the glow-in-the-dark chemicals embedded into my sclera will give some kind of awesome superpowers. I'll let you know.
A very successful 4th, by far. I hope you all had a nice holiday, too, and that none of you burned down your house or went blind.
The power of the mamas is mighty!
Here is the response from Alice Jewell, the director of the McKenna Children's Museum in new Braunfel's, where my friends were bothered about nursing in public:
you for your email regarding breastfeeding at the McKenna Children's Museum.
The Museum's breastfeeding policy states that under Texas law, a mother is
entitled to breastfeed her baby in any location in which the mother is
authorized to be. McKenna Children's Museum welcomes mothers who want to
breastfeed in the Museum. McKenna Children's Museum has a privacy area
available or mothers may breastfeed in any public location of the Museum. If a
patron complains about a mother who is breastfeeding, Museum staff will kindly
explain that breastfeeding is permitted in the Museum pursuant to Texas law and
suggest to that customer that he or she relocate to another section of the
Museum. All staff have been informed and educated about this policy.
Woo hoo! Nice work, everyone.
I look forward to taking the kids down to New Braunfels as soon as we get a chance. I think they'll have a lot of fun and I will be extra happy to visit, knowing the director has listened to – and supports – customers and future customers, alike.
my sweet baby girl
so fiercely independent
the love of my life
So we've covered what I was doing this time last year. But this time three years ago, I was as big as a house. A hot, un-air-conditioned house, staggering around the block, trying to kick-start labor.
I spent the last few months of my pregnancy barely able to walk. Stupid hyper mobile joints and pubic symphysis jacked-up-ed-ness. I shuffled around like a grumbling old lady. I even had to give in to all things decent and drive around Target in one of those carts that beeps when you back up.
I stayed at 4 cm dilated – just walking around – for almost two weeks. I thought she might never be born. I would just be pregnant forever, ambling and groaning around my super-heated, summer sun-soaked cul-de-sac, never actually going into labor, a kind of Dante's inferno for impatient pregnant women.
But I woke up at 6:30am on July 1st – the morning of my due date – having regular contractions. They did their thing, picking up speed and intensity until we headed for the hopsital at about 10am. By 10:30 I was checked into labor and delivery, munching on ice chips, chatting with my belly and joking with the nurses.
By 12:30 I was in the "uh-oh, I really am going to have to push this baby out" mode.
By 1:45 I agreed to the epidural.
And then, miraculously, wonderfully, easily… at 2:32pm she was born. 8 lbs 11 oz, with about seven of those pounds squarely in her cheeks. She stared at me with huge eyes, nursed immediately, and we were in love. Less than 24 hours later, we were home.
It was a quick, simple, wonderful birth. It happened so fast – one minute pregnant, one minute holding her in my arms.
How was that three years ago? It feels like forever ago, and one second ago. She's gone from a tiny baby girl who loved Rob Zombie and constant nursing, to an action-packed kid who loves Arcade Fire and guacamole. How did that happen?!
My sweet, sweet Georgia Kady.
Happy birthday, baby girl.