Things That Aren't Perfect Despite My Best Efforts

There was no sleep & then there was good news.

1 Feb posted by heirtoblair

If you’re following me on Twitter, you know the personal hell our family of three has been facing for the last two weeks:

It’s called a toddler that decided sleep is for the birds.

That was at 4am. He finally conked out at 4:30am.

He has two nightlights.
It’s not night terrors (those have an entirely different cry).
He has loveys.
He’s not hungry or thirsty.
He really doesn’t need to drop his nap because he’s not napping 50% of the time anyway.

Basically? He wants to eff with us. Which might be a strong sentiment except I’ve only had one cup of coffee & four hours of sleep.

(also, the difference between a newborn being awake all hours & a toddler being awake all hours is the amount of noise. when a newborn is awake, at least one parent can sleep. when a toddler is awake, even folks in china hear him.)

It started innocently right around the time I lost my job & we feel for the little guy because it’s obvious he feels the stress in the house. There have been a lot of changes in his wee world over the past few months & my heart goes out to him. First Daddy was home a bit, then we were both at work, then Momma came home & he’s overjoyed but missing his Auntie & why isn’t anything the same anymore?! But Momma needs her REM cycle back & more importantly, the kiddo does too. After nights of rocking & rocking & rocking in the small hours of the day & Doug camping out on a pallet in his room, & purchasing a star turtle & giving him warm milk, we realized yesterday that it was time to pull out the big guns. All three of us were at each other’s throats constantly from pure exhaustion. I snapped at Harrison, something I very rarely do. So Doug & I shook hands & decided that last night was the night.

We dusted off our Ferber book & got the stopwatch on my iPhone working.

We turned Harrison’s lock around so that we could lock him in, thereby taking back control of his ability to leave his room. (shall I pause here & clarify that we still go to him, but it means homeboy can’t sneak out at 3am? good.)

We took out his workbench & garbage trucks.

I turned off his light at the fan so that he can’t party all night long under a ceiling light. (oh buddy, did that piss him off!)

& we hit the sack by 9pm.

I got a pretty awesome workout going back & forth to his room last night, calmly telling him to “Get back in bed, it’s night-night time.” Tuck him in, give him a pat on the back, & close the door behind me. I’m hoping that tonight it won’t take 2 1/2 hours for it to sink in that Momma ain’t fooling around. Also, this is what we woke up to this morning:

I think it’s fair to say he was pretty ticked that Harrison Rave 2012 was thwarted.

____________________________

& in good news, the reason that Momma can’t hang at 4am anymore is because I got an offer from Microsoft as a contract for their marketing department.

SAY WHAT?!

It’s a contract so I’m still on the hunt for a full-time job with bennies. The great news is that the contract is on my terms as far as how many hours I work per week & when the contract ends & they fully understand that I am still looking for a job. So Harry is with his Auntie a few hours per week so I can log in some hours at home & take conference calls & keep interviewing with other companies. What’s that you say, Charlie? WINNING.

Photo 3 There was no sleep & then there was good news.

Remember how you didn't want me as an admin? That's cool. Microsoft thinks I'm worth bringing in to their marketing department. So have a seat, please.

HeirtoBlair500x150 v41 There was no sleep & then there was good news.

109 Comments
Filed Under: FAIL, Harry in General, I wish parenting came with a manual, Life in General, My kid hates me, Pass the Unisom, Potential for Doocing, Sorta Staying Home, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Toddlers eat your brains, Unpopular opinions

I probably should pull out the old baby monitor & start using it as a walkie-talkie.

26 Jan posted by heirtoblair

901a8c6c456611e1a87612313804ec91 7 300x300 I probably should pull out the old baby monitor & start using it as a walkie talkie. I try to be all badass Super Nanny but this crazy thing happened once I got all healed & whole & less twisty inside – I cannot bear to hear my child cry. & not in the way that sent me screaming for the shower every night at six months postpartum, but that it feels like my gut has been ripped out & flipped over my head & I’m wading knee-deep in my uterus. THAT is what it feels like when my child cries for me.

So when Harrison starts screaming at bedtime & I’ve told him firmly to get back in bed three separate times, he stares up at me with tears falling & says, “Up!!” oh, my heart.

I find myself all sternly inner-dialoguing how I’m setting us up for failure when he’s three as I make my way to the rocking chair. But then I remember how I’m knee-deep in my uterus & how soon, Harry will be going to sleepovers where he will be embarrassed to ever admit he was rocked to sleep & I can’t help myself. I sit & I rock & tell him stories about the man on the moon until he’s calm. His heartbeat slows & his breathing steadies & I know he’s asleep because that’s the kind of thing that mother’s just know.

He’s drooling on my shoulder. It’s time to put the kiddo to bed, but in his earlier rage, all blankets & pillows ended in a pile on the floor. Which means that I have to get up from the chair & put the bedding back together with 30 lbs of live ammunition on my shoulder. Doug to the nursery, I think into the universe. I wait a few minutes. Hey, buddy. To the nursery for pillow recon.

I contemplate the length of my legs, wondering if I can grab the pillow corner with my toes & toss it into the bed. If I can do that, then I’ll have a legit excuse to run away with the circus. I feel the drool seeping through my jammies. The kid stirs & I freeze & send imaginary red flares into the sky. & I’m all WHY IS HE NOT READING MY ESP?! DOUG TO THE NURSERY! DOUG TO THE NURSERY!

What good is being married almost six years if he can’t read my mind?

30 Comments
Filed Under: Harry in General, Life in General, Never Have I Ever, Pass the Unisom, The I Do's, Things I didn't understand until I birthed a child, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Toddlers eat your brains, Unpopular opinions

The big news.

23 Jan posted by heirtoblair

It’s kind of like pulling a band-aid off. You feel that twinge of nerves, you know it’s going to hurt, but you go ahead & yank anyway.

So.

I am unemployed.

YANK.

It was unexpected.

YANK.

(also? ouch.)

More to come after coffee & getting dressed & figuring out my first day as a temporary stay-at-home-momma.

127 Comments
Filed Under: Adult Club, All about BA, Potential for Doocing, Sorta Staying Home, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts

Dirty Blogging Confessions

13 Jan posted by heirtoblair

Yesterday, I joined a friend for chicken salad & cupcakes & sweet tea. We don’t do this often enough, but when I really start to miss her, a quick email & lunch date does the trick. Our lunch dates began with her helping me limp along through postpartum depression, to new pregnancies & job changes & wondering, always wondering, if we’re doing right by our babies.

We began talking about blogging – conferences, sponsorships, traffic & posts & the urge to grow despite the pressure to succeed. It’s a hard balance.

I worry about being irrelavent.

I fear nobody understanding or taking my words wrong; some nights, I feel anxiety over that blue “Publish” button.

I care about stats & yes, that summer slow-down where traffic goes belly-up while everyone is on vacation. Even though I don’t want to care.

So I make resolutions not to check stats. Then I break that resolution.

I doubt my ability by comparing myself to others.

I feel twinges of envy when a friend of mine gets a specific sponsor, opportunity, free lance gig, email, etc.

I hope to make Babble’s Top lists, even though I’ve never made one.

I tell myself that blog post isn’t good enough, funny enough, just…enough. I get writer’s block from those thoughts.

I’m guilty of saying, “Just five more minutes…” on Twitter at the end of the night.

~~I think Neville is hot.~~ oops, I don’t know how that one got in there.

The point is, I think we’re all the same the moment we sit down to type out words.

171488698280640622 qoCj1yn4 c Dirty Blogging Confessions

Source: middlechildcomplex.tumblr.com via Beth Anne on Pinterest

54 Comments
Filed Under: All about BA, BA's a nerd, Fears, Finding Balance, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Unpopular opinions

When life feeds fear & the spillover runs bone dry.

9 Jan posted by heirtoblair

I’m really busy these days.

It hits me when I lay down at night & my hips ache so badly & I wonder why I’m so tired. I’m busy.

& I feel like I’m losing out on life.

Dramatic much? But I spend 9 hours a day behind a computer, trying to make sense of my project manager & the boss man’s travel schedule. I spend 2-3 hours per day in my car, trapped in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I get home & throw on dinner, try to soak up time with Harrison, but the moment he is in pajamas I am back the the grind of taking out trash, picking up toys, & making the house presentable just in case they schedule a showing. Just in case.

My one outlet, writing & sharing my thoughts & capturing them on film (albeit roughly), feels bone dry & I can’t help but fear if my lack of inspiration comes from lack of living. My friend Nish often describes her blog as the spill-over of life & I’ve always felt the same – my blog holds all of the emotions & thought processes that I cannot keep to myself. But these days, I feel like I’m on autopilot.

We race out the door every morning; my hair is flying & 75% of the time I have forgotten makeup, so I have yet to capture my attempt at growing my style.

The sun is down when I get home, so every night is a game of chase through the living room or vrooming cars around my ankles while I cook.

We did not take a winter long weekend to the mountains this year due to finances.

I see my friends grow & inspire & be viral & I shake my head at the emptiness of my own journal notes. I’m being left behind.

I have no idea what’s happening with Zooey Dash-a-whatever or the other Kar-dash-a-whatever’s because I don’t have cable. I have now been demoted to Former Pop Culture Princess.

I order clothes & Christmas presents & hell, even groceries online.

Some mothers ache for more interaction & more rigid schedule, but I long for days of a lazier pace & more sunshine with my tiny guy.

I just don’t know how to find it quite yet.