Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Change is not my friend

I've figured it out - change is not my friend. I don't like change; it always throws me and I need time to adjust. Ask people I travel with, ask my family, ask my spouse. And I always forget how much I dislike change until hours, days and weeks later when I ask myself, "what was that about?" and I realize it was me reacting to change. Going from one to two kids is a huge change and I can't say that I'm adjusting quickly or gracefully. I know this because today after a few minutes into a conversation someone said to me, "is going from one kid to two that hard?" which made me realize I am speaking more about the negatives these days than the positives and my facial expressions are a dead giveaway that I am not in my happy place. Never one to sugarcoat anything, I hear the words coming out of my mouth when someone asks how I am and I wince inside. Because I'm not saying I love it, I'm not saying how sweet it is when The Babe asks to kiss Baby Macaroni for the 10th time in the day, and I'm not saying that I love Baby Macaroni and I never want to put her down. Ever. Which is the truth also. Instead I'm saying I'm tired, I'm saying it's tough, I'm saying that The Babe is a one-woman show who is pushing me to my limits most of the day. Because those are the trees in the forest I can't see.

My poor husband leaves home to me sighing, some days wishing he would take me with him to work - hey, I can handle a nail gun like nobody's business! - and other days hoping he'll announce he doesn't have to go to work today. He comes home to me sans shirt (not as sexy when you're wearing nursing bra and haven't brushed your teeth), looking defeated as I negotiate with The Babe to sit in her chair while she eats dinner, rather than run back and forth between the kitchen and dining room. I never say we had a great day when he asks, and before I get a chance to talk to him about one thing I remembered to ask from during the day, the siren song of Babe Macaroni lures me back to the couch for another nursing session. I'm having issues with nursing, different issues this time around, and we're working on it but we are not there yet. What it means is I am tethered to the house, not able to go out for more than an hour or two at a time for the next week or so for the most part.

But it's okay. It's okay because I know there will be a time when nursing happens less, when sleep comes in longer chunks and when this will no longer be a change I am adjusting to, it will just be our life. I am thankful for all that we have: the ability to have children, period, friends I can call who know what I'm going through and invite me over to just hang out and nurse at their place, and this blog where I can write it all down and look back and say, "I got through that." Right now is the time which vanishes from your memory six months down the line. I know I will not remember each day, only snippets, and the parts of the newborn baby phase which I will remember will be the sleepy head on my shoulder, the gassy grins, and the tiny socks. They are so tiny! I just need to accept the fact that when it comes to change, sometimes I need more time than the average to get into my groove and the in-between phase is a little hairy for awhile. Even right now as I write this, The Babe is on hour two of her nap and Baby Macaroni is swinging away in slumber land, after what I would deem a successful trip to the mall to return something and have lunch. We even shared a delicious cookie and managed to not shed a tear during the whole process. So I guess, so far, we've had a great day.

~ H

Monday, August 4, 2014

My toddler loves timeouts

She must because by noon everyday last week and today she has had at least three timeouts. She doesn't listen. Period. Time for lunch? No no, it's dance party time for her. Time for a nap? Actually, she's rather jump on the bed. Eat her snack? Why, when it's much more fun to use the carrots as toys in her Little People house. Did I mention these shenanigans almost always take place when I am nursing Baby Macaroni? Which is pretty much anytime, as this newborn is cluster feeding like no one's business. I feel like I'm losing my mind, dealing with an inattentive, hyperactive, extremely bossy child who cannot sit still unless it's to kiss her sister (yes, despite all this, she is still quite sweet to the baby).

People have offered to come take her to the park or take her swimming, but I need someone to CLEAN OUT HER EARS! Seriously! To make it more interesting, Baby Macaroni isn't liking being put down, at all. While I have no problem with a little crying, it is starting to wear me down when I have to chase The Babe down to (gently) wrestle her into her nap time pull-up while Baby Macaroni is at a Level 3 in the bassinet in our room. Or administer a timeout with a 2-week old latched to my boob. Yep, I did that today. It was that kind of a day. 

What terrifies me even more is that if this is the only two-year-old problems, what are the three-year-old ones like? People keep writing and saying, "you think two-years-old is bad? Wait until 3!" Stop saying that people! It is not helpful! I cannot skip three and go right to four, I checked and it's not an option. I'm now dreading three-years-old almost as much as I dreaded my first labour. If she doesn't listen now, what's next for next year? Toddler tattoos and finding sippy cups of rum stashed in her bee backpack? I'm kidding - who likes rum anymore?

I'm two weeks in, lacking on sleep and eating anything I can get my hands on. The Babe seems to sense this and is playing off it, making me question my own sanity. "Have I really asked her six times to pick up her play food? No. Not possible." We have implemented the Saturday box for toys she loses when she is disobient, except Saturday just came and went, and they toys are still in the box because we forgot and she didn't ask. Too many toys and too much to do - first world problems for sure.

Anyways, nap time is over and I have to wake up The Babe to start the cycle all over again. Yesssssssss

~ H