Just Step Over Me.

Ever since the time changed in October, Asher has been waking up at ungodly hours. He has always been sort of difficult with his sleep, just for the record. And he’s still little, just 2 1/2. I have to repeat this aloud several times a day so I don’t completely lose it.

Anyway, I have a whole series of early-morning photos like these on my phone. Every single one of these were taken before 5:30 a.m. I don’t know how else to cope with what is happening other than to just laugh at it. Okay, sometimes I cry too.

I know it’s a phase. I know there might not be a solution. And yet … I keep trying to fix it, because I simply cannot accept that nothing can be done. My day began at 3:30 this morning, and after a few failed attempts to lull him back to sleep, I said “Asher, you don’t know what you’ve done. You’ve gone too far now. Mommy has been pushed too far.” And he just smiled and said “Far?”


The mushy part of me thinks that this is a blessing, this is my time to cuddle with our middle child. He is probably still adjusting to having a little sister and maybe he needs that extra reassurance. I’ll probably look back on this fondly one day, when I have forgotten what it is actually like to survive on 5 hours of sleep for months on end. 

That’s around the time I’ll also know what day/date/year it is, I’ll finally feel rested and alert, and I’ll begin chirping at young mothers to “Enjoy it!!! It goes so fast!!!” With a lot of exclamation points because I’m so chipper.

Indeed, it does. It does go so fast, especially when your days are like 19 hours long and they all run together into a nonsensical blur. That’s when you know it’s going fast — when it’s blurry. It’s blurry because we are on a wild, out-of-control ride, we can’t sleep, and we are disoriented. 

When I finally get off, I’ll just crawl to the platform and lie there for a long time while everyone else steps over me.

My (Psuedo) Problem.

I got problems, although I feel like other people have real problems. Real problems are things like abuse, unemployment, drug addiction, prison time, and genital herpes. My psuedo-problem is that my two-year-old wanders in the night.

Back in April, we made the transition and put the boys in a room together. For a long time, Asher continued to sleep in a Pack N’ Play because he just wasn’t embracing the big bed. Then Pepper was born and — forgive me, but I really have no recollection of what happened when because it’s one big blur — at some point Asher started climbing out of his Pack N’ Play. So we decided it was time to put him in the big bed.

He’s done great with it. For naps he normally sleeps in his bed the whole time and no longer tries to get out of his room, but I still lock him in there (the doorknob is turned around backwards) until he falls asleep and then I unlock the door. Night time is a problem, though, because he shares a room with his 5-year-old brother. Maverick needs to be able to get out if he needs water or has to use the bathroom. 

What we have been doing is putting Asher to bed, letting him have about 30-45 minutes to wind down or fall asleep before Maverick goes to bed, and then leaving their door unlocked for the night. The problem is that Asher has started wandering around the house really late at night. It really breaks my heart because while he has been acting strangely since the baby was born, it really ramped up after his latest E.R. visit. Sometimes we’ll find him sleeping in the hallway, in odd places in their bedroom, or in the middle of the living room floor.

Last night I woke up at 3:30 and saw that our bedroom door was standing open, so I jumped up and went into the hall. When I realized the boy’s bedroom door was open, I went in and saw that Asher was missing from his room. I spent the next few NERVE-WRACKING minutes trying to figure out where he was before finding him face down on the floor next to the couch. I put him back in bed, returned to my bed, and willed my heart to stop pounding.

How can we get him to stay put?! Baby gates are a joke. We do have one that is screwed into the wall to keep him out of the kitchen, which he figured out how to open about two weeks after we installed it. Now we have to tie it shut with a belt looped in complicated ways so he can’t undo it. His current project seems to be figuring out how to remove the childproof knobs on the exterior doors so he can escape down the street.

As it stands now, we clear the living area of anything hazardous before we go to bed, turn off the lights, and hope for the best. I can’t help but to think there is a better solution, because I am losing my mind with worry over this kid.



Posted in TWO


Today I caught this little fella with his hand deep in our toilet, splashing around. When I ran in screaming “NO!!!!” .

He stuck his hand in his mouth.

He’s been sleeping in his Pack N’ Play. We lasted three nights in the toddler bed before I made the executive decision to put him back in a secure, boxed-in sleeping environment. The open space and freedom of a regular bed just freaked him out too much. He sleeps better in his playpen than he slept in his crib, so you know what? HE CAN SLEEP IN IT FOREVER.

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I’m in the trenches of transitioning TWO to a toddler bed in preparation for sleeping in a big twin bed soon. We have installed a child proof knob on the inside of his door, otherwise he would be running wild when it’s time to be sleeping.

He stands at his door and screams … and screams … and eventually finds his way over to the rocking chair, where he has fallen asleep the past two nights. We pick him up and move him to his bed, but if he happens to wake up, we start all over again.

Night #1

Night #2

This morning, his diaper leaked at 4:30 a.m. and he has been pretty much freaking out ever since. There are few things that annoy me more than being woken up repeatedly, so around 5:00 I accepted it for what it was, got him out of his room and started a load of laundry.

I spent the next hour and a half trying to keep him from waking the other sleeping members of our household. At 6:30 I moved the clothes from the washing machine to the dryer and returned to the kitchen to find this.

I believe he was preparing to leap when I intervened. My nerves are shot, and I’m exhausted. But thankfully, because this is my second child, I know it gets better.

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TWO’s First Day.

This day came a lot sooner than I expected, but tomorrow TWO will start “school.” We enrolled him in the same preschool ONE attends, and he will be in a class of other 1 and 2-year-olds. He will attend two days a week, and I can’t decide if I’m thankful for the break or if I need to have a good cry.

I think I need to have a good cry.

We made this decision so I could free up more of my time to do things on the side to bring in extra income. It’s just until May, and it will benefit the whole family, but OMG-IT-JUST-HIT-ME I am SO not ready for this:

Dual lunchboxes.

 And this:

Dual backpacks.

Yes, these are my problems. I used to be the mom who had her kid in daycare full-time, and now I’m fighting back tears thinking about sending my toddler off for 5 hours.

Who am I?! Am I going to start wearing purple scrunchies in my hair? Sweatshirts with teddy bear appliques on them?! Stop showering?! These were my fears when I first became pregnant with ONE. Like I would somehow morph into a different person overnight. Change into someone I didn’t like or recognize.

Well … I’m here to tell you. I HAVE changed. It’s more of a slow metamorphosis than an overnighter, but I am definitely not the same person I once was. I’m poorer, I’m less kept, I’m more wrinked and I often forget to look in the mirror. I cry over things that didn’t phase me before. But I still recognize myself, and most importantly, I like myself more than I ever have.


This is more for my own record than for your entertainment, but TWO isn’t quite 17 months old and he’s putting two-word sentences together. Examples are: “Cold, Mommy,” (translation: he wants his milk, which he calls “cold” for reasons unknown to me) as he tugs on the refrigerator door andNo nap!” when I snuggle with him in his rocking chair. He also says “My yummy,” in reference to his food or snack, and a whole lot of new words:

Sit down

And a whole bunch of other unintelligible things.

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Why I Can’t Relax.

My mother will often call me in the middle of the day and ask, Did I wake you up?” or, “Were you resting?” As if most of my day involves lounging around the house.

Um, no.

Here is reason #5,631 why I cannot “relax” while my children are awake: last week I was cooking dinner, standing at the stove minding my own business, when TWO came up behind me and bit me right on the ass.

I screamed. He looked startled.

Reason #5,632 I cannot “relax” while my children are awake: while I was typing this blog entry, this happened. Seriously.

My little ass-biter climbed into his high chair like a spider monkey and scared me half to death. And there you go — that’s my Wednesday.


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