Today was a rough day. This week has been rough all around. All because of one simple word: sleep.

I remember when Lily was a newborn, and maybe even before she was born, I subscribed to the myth that there would be this magical time called "sleeping through the night", as if this is something that babies actually attain. As if after the first night of sleeping through the night that meant that ALL nights would be full of sound sleep for baby, mommy, and daddy (aside from the expected illness here and there). Sure, this might hold true for SOME babies but no one mentioned to me that my baby could be one of the selected ones that would torture herself, and her mama, with horrible sleep patterns for, oh say... years.

I prepared myself as much as possible for the newborn no-sleep phase. I knew she would wake up every 3-5 hours for the first few weeks/months and that's exactly what she did. I remember her sleeping 6-8 hours a night when she was about 2 months old. "Oh my God", I thought, "here it is, this magical milestone of sleeping through the night!". Clearly she was advanced because all these other babies didn't sleep this kind of stretch for a couple more months into their lives. This was it. The goal was reached. Sleep will now be a part of our lives again. That's all new parents want. Sleep. It has arrived.

Little did I know that for Lily, that lasted about 3 weeks. Oh, how that stung when I realized it wasn't some magical sleep fairy that waved her magic wand and made my child sleep through the night FOREVER. No, that first taste of sleeping through the night would begin a frustrating pattern, a tease if you will, of a semi-sleepless baby.

Around 4 months of age her sleep completely regressed. "4 month wakeful" is what people told me, but somehow that turned into 5 month, 6 month, 7 month, etc. wakefuls. We visited my friend Jaime and her family in New Hampshire when Lily was 6 months old. Lily was to sleep in a pack-n-play in their dining room, right next to the living room where we would sleep. Jaime was absolutely shocked at how Lily fought sleep. Her son, then 14 months old, was the complete opposite of Lily in the sleep world. I was so envious.

It wasn't until 9.5 months (too late, in my opinion) that we went to see Lily's pediatrician, in tears (me, not Lily), begging her for answers to Lily's sleep issues. She was waking up 6-15 times a night, more than once an hour, wanting one of us to come in and comfort her. The pediatrician's answer was simple, "Grab a glass of wine and let her cry it out".
And so we did. And it work. Kind of.
I was only able to stand the crying for 30 minutes, which was usually all it took for her to fall asleep. This method, although controversial, worked for Lily. It gave her much needed rest, and her parent's too.

So THAT'S when I was sure we achieved it, this sleeping through the night. After letting her cry it out, she started sleeping a normal amount of hours at night. I was certain we have arrived to a better place and I would start gaining some sanity back.

But no.
That helped, a LOT, but she still threw us for a loop every few weeks, waking in the middle of the night, or waking up really early, ready for the day. It was just unpredictable.

For about the past year, we got into a pattern of about 10 hours of sleep a night, or rest at least, meaning she at least stays in her bed quietly. Yes, she would still throw in a random night of waking up once or twice because of a bad dream or something, but this pattern seemed to be sticking.

But no.
This week we changed her crib into a toddler bed, which we expected to be challenged with... and our expectations were dead on. She isn't getting up and roaming around the house like I expected but she is waking up a couple/few times a night crying, saying she's scared, and she is skipping almost all naps, everyday.

So, here we are, 5 weeks from her third birthday, still battling sleep (as I'm sitting here listening to her on the monitor, at 11pm, still not asleep after being put to bed at 9pm). Throw in the fact that she is so incredibly over tired that she started having her hour long plus meltdowns today, you know, as a Happy Easter to all of us, where she is inconsolable and downright frightening. (Those beauties began about 9 months ago after waking up from naps but were in remission for the past couple of months. Glad to see they came back with a vengeance. :::eyetroll:::)

Am I complaining? You're Goddamn right, I am. Lack of sleep=mentally unstable in my world and I am fucking tired.

But more than just complaining, I am sending out a warning, my friends: Babies may NEVER sleep through the night consistently. Do not set yourself up for failure and expect it. Just adopt the notion that sleeping through the night is for childless couples.

Oh, and the terrible twos are not half as terrible as the torturous threes, from what I can see so far.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

DIsclaimer: this post was written 4 days before my period is due. Nuff said.

As Lily ran into my office dressed in her Halloween costume of a bumble bee, sans clothes, just a tutu, wings, and antennae, I looked at my mom and said, "I NEED to start blogging about all of these little moments before I forget them".

Here she is, 3 going on 10 at times, and I am striving to just soak it all in. I know, I say that often, but at this age she is just so full of fun, and innocent, and happy, and joy. Please, time, stand still.

A story and some random thoughts.
So, this first one is not so full of fun, joy or happy, but it's pretty funny.

One day last week, she decided to skip a nap. It was a work day for me and I had sent my childcare home before her nap time, assuming she would do her usual 1.5-2 hour nap and I could finish my work then. Well, the best laid plans...So, I told her to pick out a movie and lay on the couch for some "quiet time". She obliged, picked out "Rio", sat quietly and watched her movie while I worked on my lap top next to her.
About an hour into he movie, she got a little restless, as she does with movies, and played quietly in the living room with random toys she brought over. At one point, she went into my bathroom, brought out a bag of cotton balls out and said, "Can I play wit these, mama?". Sure.
So, she continues playing. I was marveling at her, thinking, "wow, she's such a good girl. She's entertaining herself right now. Man, I'm lucky".
Immediately following that thought, I look up to see her squeezing some cotton balls, saying, "Mama, look. I making dough like Bop Bop".  "Awww, good job, pumpkin" I reply.
She then stands up, takes a step and slips and falls on the tile. I notice the floor is wet. I look around and notice her portable Elmo potty is a few feet away...full if cotton balls...and pee. Sigh. She was soaking the cotton balls in pee and squeezing them everywhere. You know, making "dough".

I was SO angry because OMG the mess. I immediately raised my voice, yelling, "LILY, OH MY GOD! THAT'S PEE!!! YOU DON'T PLAY IN PEE. WE HAD THIS DISCUSSION ALREADY!", yes we had a similar episode the week prior, "OH MY GOD, LILY!". Pee was everywhere.
It was actually one of those motherhood moments that I was not proud of because, truth be told, I was mad at myself. What mother leaves pee in a toddler potty for over an hour? Me. What mother doesn't watch her child close enough to realize that there is URINE being squeezed all over the flipping living room? Me. Yet, I took it out on her, to the point of her jumping on the couch, throwing her blanket over her head with her "baby" in her arms, telling her "baby", "it's ok, baby. It's ok. It's gunna be ok, baby"...Oh.my.God. That's when I died.
She was afraid of me. She's so sensitive and I was yelling. She was scared. Of course, I ran over and comforted her, apologizing for yelling.
Then, I looked around the room, filled with 85 yellow-tinted cotton balls thrown everywhere, and I laughed. This was not a big deal. This was funny. This is easily cleanable. This was her learning.
That will be a good story for the teenage years.
~~~

She's suddenly into dressing up. As in, within the last 3 days. Today, aside from the bumblebee Halloween costume, she also put on the flower girl dress she wore in a wedding a few months ago, complete with pirate accessories.
This is coinciding with a lot of pretend play...but should I be concerned that she couldn't care less about baby dolls or nurturing anything? The apple does not fall far, my friends.

~~~

She loves googles and "beyockuners" (binoculars).
She loves playing in the dirt.
She loves swimming.
She loves her gymnastics class.
She loves this random little teenage girl named Courtney.
She loves her Auntie Cole and Ty.
She loves the "playground wit the fire truck".
She's in the "I want" phase when we go to the store.
She wants a toddler bed but daddy and I are afraid to make the transition because, for the love of God, we just started sleeping through the night less than a year ago.
She is considerate.
She talks to herself sometimes.
She loves to fart in the bathtub and thinks it's hilarious.
For her third birthday, she wants a Mickey Party, an Up party, a Rio party, a Curious George party, amongst others.


Ah, I know there are so many more little moments I'm forgetting to mention but at least there is a snapshot of my almost-three-year-old.

Dear Lily,

I haven't written to you in quite some time. It isn't because I don't have anything to say, it's definitely the opposite. I have so much to say that I can't even organize my thoughts. So much to say because you are just so brilliant and I want to capture who you are, in every moment, day in and day out.

You're going to be three in just three months. 3. I have to repeat this number in my head a couple times a day, preparing for this to be reality. You are getting so far away from that baby that I held in my arms that needed every ounce of my attention and turning into this gorgeous, funny, intelligent, spirited, passionate little girl. One that I am so proud of.

I have already started thinking about your third birthday, (because that's what your mama does, she over plans). You had said you wanted the party to have a theme of your favorite movie, "Up", but you have now changed it to "Curious George". It's simply amazing to me that you now have the cognitive skills to make decisions like this. You know what you want, in many facets on your little world, and you are adamant about achieving your goals. God, I pray this stays with you- that you always have such passion.

But before you turn three, you will start gymnastics in less than two weeks. You're so excited about this. You practice on mama's bed by doing somersaults and also on bop bop's couch cushions by using them as a trampoline. You just have such passion and spirit. I just love it.

Your passion leaks out in some negative ways, in the form of tantrums and fits of frustration, but dad and I are doing our very best to embrace it and know that this too shall pass. You're just learning and exploring so many new emotions, of course you can't be expected to articulate it all at your age.

But you are truly such a good girl... You love to help, as you show me when you bring my phone to me when it's ringing, without me asking for it. You love to tell stories, as you share with me when you and daddy go to the park and "go down the biggest slide". You love to teach, as you reprimand Ty to "sit down in the bath tub" when he comes over to share an evening with you. You love to learn, as you always ask, "What's that mean?" or "What's that do?", when something is unfamiliar. You are generous, as you will share your cookie with me. You are compassionate, as you show by asking, "You ok, mama?", if I sneeze or bump my knee.

I am just smitten with you. Our bond has grown even stronger since I've gotten to know who you are. You give me more joy than I ever imagined was available in life.

So, Lily girl. As you head into a new year of your life, just know your mama is doing her best to soak you in. Know that I'm look forward to every day with you. Know that I am holding on to each morning that you run into my room at 7am every day, so excited to snuggle with me for 30 minutes. I know these mornings will fly by and soon you will be so much more independent than you already are. Know that I am already so, so proud of you. Know that you are teaching me so much and I love you more each day.

Love,
Your mama

I wish I had the energy for witty, heartfelt posts. I just don't have it in me these days.

Life is hard right now. Well, life is hard always but right now my world is harder than usual. Nothing to do with Lily, really, aside from the fact that she is almost 3 and can be extremely difficult, but she is the easy part of life right now. All I can say is that I am thankful for my family and (most of) my health. Life's twist and turns are just a little... Turbulent right now.

Because I want to remember where we are, here are some Lilyisms:
- she loves, loves, loves technology. My parents bought her an iPad for Christmas and she is an addict. I'm not kidding. She wakes up talking about it. "mommy, I want my iPad". At 7am. She's just so great at navigating gadgets, too. It's amazing. She's so smart.
- she misses school some days, but mommy doesn't. She has been healthy (knocks on wood) and I am just enjoying keeping her a "baby" while I can. Her days will be filled with school 5 days a week soon enough. For now, she is mine and I am liking keeping her home.
- she has complete conversations. It's been this way for a couple months but now she truly processes and uses words and phrases correctly, not just from memorization.
- a funny story relating to the last ism: a couple weeks ago, we were getting ready to leave the house. I put a diaper on the couch so I could change her before we left and went into my room to get my shoes. When I came out of my room, Lily was getting up from a kneeling position off of the floor. She was mumbling something under her breath. "What are you saying, baby?", I asked. "You'll never find it nowwwwwwww", she repeated. I had no idea what she was talking about, until I went to look for the diaper I had just brought out. She hid the diaper under the couch. Like Swiper from Dora the Explorer. She has watched Dora enough now to completely grasp the concept of what Swiper, the fox that steals things but always learns his lesson, does. She was laughing so hard at herself for doing this. It was really funny.
- this kid loves her space. She will cuddle and hug when she wants to, but don't push her.
- she loves tantrum throwing, too. It's usually about every other day that we're convinced that the devil had taken control and that's her head will spin around. They usually come right after nap time and will last about 30-60 minutes. The other night it was triggered because I took one of HER pretzels off of her snack plate. Screamed. For 35 minutes. Even went into my parent's upstairs bedroom, in the dark, by herself and would not allow anyone in the room without screaming "NOOOOOOO!!!!!! GOOOOO AWAYYYYYYYYY!!!!". It's a lot of fun.
- there isn't any sign of any additional girly-ness emerging. She doesn't like baby dolls, princess crap, or anything down that Barbie isle at Target, which we run right past to get to the Cars and Toy Story isles.
- she loves playgrounds. Loves. Slides are the best.
- potty training is a no go. She may be shitting in her pants in middle school at this rate. She understands the concept, will sit on the potty, pretend to go, wipe, pretend to flush....and then ask for her diaper to be put back on so she can take a dump. Yep, she will hold it until that diaper is put back on. It might be a long road with this.

That's all I have for tonight. I am really wanting to freeze time with her right now. I don't want her to grow up. I can see my baby becoming a kid. It's too much, too soon.

This is where I talk about bullying.

It's December 23rd. You would think I would have some gushing post about how magical the holidays are now that my kid is (almost) old enough to embrace the full excitement, the magic, Santa, and just the whole aura. Well, not today, my friends. I want to talk about bullying and how I'll be damned if my kid isn't going to learn to stand up for herself. If you want holiday joy, please proceed to Kelle Hampton's blog.

So, here is my first mellow dramatic experience with witnessing my kid being bullied....

Lily is shy and shows a bit of anxiety in new, social situations (you think she got my genes on that one?). Now that she isn't in school (for now. financial woes.), socializing her is a bit of a challenge because we're just so busy and getting her to play groups is difficult. One on one play for her is typically fine. We have our friend's little boy, Ty, who she loves, and my parent's next door neighbor's little boy, Josiah, and Ryleigh, who she adores. She's pretty ok one on one. Group play is just different for her.

So, yesterday, Dustin and I took her up to our community's little playground. It's really tiny and made for toddlers, and since it's Christmas break there were a lot of kids there. Ok, maybe not a lot. There were like six kids there, but more than usual. All of the kids were older than her. I decided to just back up away from the immediate play area and observe so Lily could socialize.

Lily was immediately interested in two little girls that didn't look too much older than her. (I later found out that they were ages 3 and 5 from the babysitter sitting on the bench.) Lily doesn't have a direct approach when trying to interact with other kids. She talks quietly, stares a lot, and just kind of observes. When she's comfortable enough, she will say something that she identifies with. For example, after observing the girls for a few minutes, Lily noticed one of the girls was wearing a shirt with Cinderella on it, so, Lily said, "Hey! You have Cinderella on your shirt! I like Cinderella".

The girls just stared at her for a bit and then the older girl said, "WE don't talk to strangers", very rudely.

How nice. Their parents taught them how to be assholes to strange little kids. That lesson seemed to backfire, in my opinion...but, ok, I can see that a stranger is a stranger and if that's what they were taught, so be it.

But Lily still wanted their attention. So, she just kind of followed them around. I would see them having little mini conversations, which were out of my earshot, but they were not really welcoming Lily into their little world.
I noticed that the girls just seemed to be ganging up on her. Every time Lily was going down the slide, one of them would either cut in front of her or walk up the slide so Lily couldn't slide down. Or, if she was trying to walk up the stairs one of them would push past her. This didn't seem to disrupt Lily's vigilance for their attention though.

Then.
It happened.

The girls were standing on a a little landing after the first two stairs that led to the slide. Lily went to put her foot on the first stair to join them on the landing. The younger of the two, (remember, she's only 3), stepped onto the second stair and shoved Lily, hard, in the chest, basically pushing her back down to ground level.

Oh, hello, mama bear instinct.

I had already had a level of frustration with these girls because of how they were treating Lily but now?? Now, I'm pissed.

With having absolutely no earthly idea on how to handle this, and still remain rational, I stomped over to the girls, glaring over in the direction of the babysitter who was 100% preoccupied with her telephone conversation, I crouch down to this little girl's level and said, "excuse me, why did you just push her? Pushing is not a nice thing to do. Lily was trying to play with you!".

The little girl responded my just putting on her best pouty face, burying her head, and saying nothing. Her older sister just laughed and ran over by the babysitter. The remaining four kids on the playground, who were significantly older, stopped to watch the scene, proud that they weren't the ones in trouble.

It's too bad that spanking someone elses child is frowned upon. It crossed my mind, I swear it did. I think that's more acceptable than spanking your own child sometimes. 

A mom who overheard the commotion, who was laying by the pool a few feet away, popped out of her chair, just to make sure it wasn't her kid I was reprimanding. She smiled at me warmly, as if to say, "I've been there and it will only get worse".

Sadly, I know it will only get worse. Much worse. I've been there. For three years in middle school, I was there. Bullied everyday, so much so that I begged, pleaded, and cried to stay home from school every.single.day.

Maybe I am being overly sensitive. Maybe others wouldn't even consider this bullying. Perhaps this- shoving and ganging up- is just a part of kids being kids and learning their independence, finding out how others interact. But, I have to say, this situation crushed my heart for Lily. She just looked so sad that these girls were being so mean. Tears are stinging my eyes as I type this because this is the sort of hurt that every mother wants to shield their child from. It's unnecessary, really. Pain and hurt are a part of life, sure, but bullying at the age of 3 and 5, or any age, is completely unacceptable.

All I can hope is that she has a solid backbone from a young age, learns that it's just not ok, and even fights back if she has to. I hope she has the self esteem to rise above it. I never knew how to handle my bullies and it was such a lonely time for me.

Stand your ground, baby girl. This world can be a cruel place. I wish I could always be there to protect you.

I've had this post rolling around in my head for a few days. Is it weird that I write blog posts in my head on most days and then promptly forget them, only ending up writing once or twice a month? ::sigh:: I need more hours in the day.

I am a homebody. 

Surprised? If you know me, probably not. I love being home. More so than that, I love being home with my kid. 

I have always been a homebody. I was outgoing and very social in middle and high school but I never minded staying home, watching movies with friends or my then boyfriend. Those were some of the best memories, actually.

I can remember being in college, going out until all hours of the morning, "clubbing", going to "Raves" (mid 90's= Ecstasy days. I did not partake but it was really funny to watch), and I would LOVE the feeling of going home to my cozy little apartment alone. I was never sad that the fun was over or that I was by myself. I just loved that comfort zone of home. My parents' house always represented "home" to me after I moved out, too. I was always just as comfortable there as my own home. 

Throughout my 20s, I lived a lot of places, for many different reasons, exploring what life was about, but still, I always had that love for being home...even in my 200 square foot, roach infested studio that Bear and I lived in for 6 months. I was always really great at being comfortable at home, no matter where that was.

Since Lily has been around, I have become a homebody times a million. In the newborn and infant stages, it was because it was simply too much of a pain in the ass to go out all day. Sure, we ran a lot of errands, did a lot of shopping, I needed to get out for my sanity, but to leave the house more than once in a day was rare. There was too much shit to tow and too many variables for this nervous new mama.

Now, in the toddler years, she's much more flexible and easy to tote around, we do spend a lot more time out and about...but, like her mama, Lily loves her home. Some of my favorite days are those like yesterday where we didn't leave the house until almost 5pm. We watched movies, painted, played with every toy, walked outside, jumped on the bed...we just did homey stuff. This isn't to say that we don't love visitors or that we don't like going places, we just tend to be super comfortable here at home. 

What's strange to me is that now when I'm home alone, when Lily is at school or her grandparent's house for a visit, it doesn't feel like home simply because she's not here. Home for me has always just been where I am, where I've made it comfortable, or where my family is.

But now....it's where Lily is. She is only 2 and I am already dreading the "empty nest".

I definitely have more to say than just a once-a-month post but, holy shit, life needs to slow down.

A lot of what is going on with my life cannot be discussed over the interwebs because it's job related but I sure do need this outlet more than ever. A friend suggested carrying a notebook with me to get some thoughts out on paper during the day and I definitely need to do that. It's good for the soul to get negative thoughts out.

Anyway. My motherhood story of the week...

On Saturday, I went to Target (surprise, surprise). I was childless, just running in to get a few things. It was busy because it was a cloudy day and a cloudy day in Florida is equal to a temperature of 7 degrees up north. People get all mopey and bored, using retail therapy to self soothe. Ridiculous, sure, but very true.

I was making my way up to the cash registers and I notice a young mom in front of me with a cart full of items. She had a toddler in her cart, maybe close to 2 years old, and an elementary school aged boy, maybe 6 or 7. The mom was well composed, maybe a little too much so, wearing a super cute outfit, full make-up and flawless hair. Point being, her appearance, as well as her kids' appearance and behavior, seemed that of appropriate adjustment and left me no reason to think she was a bad mother.

A few feet away from the cash register lanes, her toddler decided to have an epic meltdown. Epic. Huge. Meltdown. I couldn't decide exactly what set him off but it was a typical toddler tantrum. It had something to do with his Spiderman Halloween costume and possibly not being able to put it on right then and there. I heard the mom appropriately say, "Shhhh. Calm down", and all sorts of other soothing, pleading phrases, that had an underlying meaning of "Please shut the fuck up, kid, because you are making me one of those moms". The kid didn't care. He was full on screaming, angry at the world, ready to rip off his own limbs in a fit of rage, mad. The mom looked embarrassed, tried to soothe him by picking him up and distracting him, to no avail, so she did like most modern moms would do and ignore him.

As she and I settled into different register lines, right next to one another, while the kid is still screaming, I instantly felt compassion and sympathy for the mom. I had that sinking feeling in my stomach for her. The one where you KNOW you are being judged and silently ridiculed by everyone around....only this time, people weren't so silent.

There were two old ladies, meaning over the age of 70, behind me in my register line and they immediately began to verbalize their disapproval for this young mom's parenting skills, cackling something along the lines of, "She should not have brought that child out in a crabby mood like that!", and, "Why do mom's these days think it's ok to just ignore that kind of behavior? She's not even doing anything to stop him".

Overhearing these comments prompted my (also old lady-ish) cashier to say to me, as she's ringing up my purchases, "My. Things aren't like they used to be. In my day, we would have left our cart and taken that kid outside for a few minutes and set him straight", insinuating that some sort of physical discipline would ensue "outside" and only when the kid shuts up would they return to the store to continue shopping in a more appropriate manner.

All of these opinionated remarks, along with all of the disgusting glares this poor girl was getting thrown in her direction, were making my blood boil for her and for every mom with a toddler.
So, I said so.

"Maybe it's possible that you ladies don't remember what it's like to have a 2 or 3 year old. I've been there and it's not easy to correct that type of behavior, especially when you're by yourself without another adult, and especially when giving the behavior attention can sometimes make it worse."

Well. That was a mistake because clearly, beating your children made a lot more sense to these women. They fired back other "You don't know how to parent either" type of comments.

I gave up on the argument but I just found it surprising how women criticize one another, especially moms, instead of empathizing when they've been there. There, with that tantruming toddler, or any other motherhood situation.
I could easily go into a whole philosophical rant about women need to stop judging one another and how giving a mom in this situation an empathetic smile, or even brief words of encouragement, could make her day, but I won't.

All I'll say is this: Stop being so mean. Be nice. Everyone is traveling their own tough path. Assume she is doing the best she can and smile with encouragement. It's just the right thing to do.