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.

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.

Here are some awesome toddler beds, from the affordable to the no-freaking-way.

I think everyone should take their toddler out to dinner. (but don’t be a jackass about it)

I asked for tips on becoming a stay-at-home momma.

I talked about the importance of volunteering even in a crazy-busy life.

I showed off fifteen incredible nurseries for normal people.

The response was so awesome that I did it again.

____________________________________

My friend Amy just opened her new Etsy shop, Smitten Image, & would love to offer one of you a freebie print to her shop!  I love this fire truck but the barn animals with their “sounds” beneath them hits my funny bone in the best way possible.

Cute, right?  I KNOW.

Hope on over & let me know which print you would pick & I’ll select a winner in the comments!

There is nothing worse than a child that does not understand how to properly eat in a restaurant.  The screaming & impatience & throwing of things, the stares & glares of fellow patrons, where the mother cringes knowing that while she won’t have to do dishes, it is not going to be a relaxing nigh tout with the family.  Doug & I are determined for Harrison not to be this kid in a restaurant, but we also know it is up to us to teach him the proper way to behave.

(This parenting gig, once again with the expectations & duties!)

On the other hand, we understand that our kiddo is two years old & has limitations.  He is still perfecting an “inside voice” & patience is not yet a virtue he possesses.  So when we do venture the world of public dining as a family, we have strict criteria:

a)      They must have a kids menu.

b)      The service must be quick.

c)       The atmosphere must be family-oriented & boisterous.

When BlogHer offered our family the opportunity to share a family dinner at Olive Garden, we jumped at the chance.  (Because honestly? Who doesn’t love the OG?!  BREADSTICKS!)  I have Italian family, so I adore Olive Garden’s ability to provide Italian-inspired family meals to curb my craving for Pork Milanese or minestrone soup.

On Sunday night, after a long weekend of scrubbing the house & playing at the park, we needed time as a family to relax together.  So we loaded up in the car & headed to Olive Garden for a family dinner at 5:30pm.

We sat down immediately & they brought a high chair & kids menu for Harry.  He colored happily while Doug & I picked out our meal & wine.  Our waiter laughed with Harrison & brought him an extra chocolate milk without us asking.  The food arrived quickly; Harrison dug into his mac n’ cheese & grapes while the adults shared a Merlot.  There were a few moments where Harrison became boisterous & we reminded him to use an “inside voice” & to stay seated in his chair, but it did not disrupt the other patron’s dinners thanks to the music & bustle of the restaurant.  Olive Garden is for families & they make the dining experience as welcoming as possible for those of us with small tots.

We don’t go out to eat a lot, but it is nice to know that should momma need a night off from the stove & dishes, there’s a place that welcomes our entire family.

p.s. almost as good as eating Olive Garden for dinner?  Eating Olive Garden for lunch.  Thank you, leftovers!

Olive Garden now has a 3 Course Italian Dinner for $12.95. The dinner consists of a 1st course of soup or salad, a 2nd course of one of five new entrees and a 3rd course of one of five Dolcini desserts. To see what’s available, check out Olivegarden.com/specials.

Now the fun! One of you will win a $100 gift card to Olive Garden, courtesy of BlogHer & Olive Garden! To be entered for a chance to win, just leave me a comment telling me who you’d take to dinner (or lunch!) with you.

Rules: No duplicate comments. You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods: a) Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post b) Tweet about this promotion and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post c) Blog about this promotion and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post d) For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry. This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected. >The Official Rules are available here.

This sweepstakes runs from 1/23/12 – 3/18/12.

Also, visit the Olive Garden page on BlogHer.com to check out the other blogger reviews and more chances to win!

I tell you what, this new gig of mine is really tough stuff.

My new boss keeps a firm hand on quality of work around here.

At least we get regular breaks for meals.

& my coworker is totally hot.  I think I might have to seduce him in the copy laundry room.

It’s so super-easy to make & she LOVED it.

Get a vine wreath from your local craft store (they usually sell for $4.99 + 40% off coupon) & some plain wooden letters (these were $2.99 apiece).  Paint the letters in school colors using one of those $0.30 foam brushes then make the polka dots with a qtip (it took three coats of each color using basic craft paint).  Tie a coordinating ribbon to the top.  I used two different colored ribbons to really set the colors off & create more detail.  Secure the letters with hot glue or wire – I used wire that I had leftover from an old project because I thought it might hold up better in the elements.

The whole project cost roughly $12.00.

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• I need another cup of coffee.
• I think we just entered the Thomas the Train era of toddlerhood.  Every morning, Harrison gets to watch an episode of Curious George but today, he saw Thomas on Netflix & was all “CHOO CHOO!  CHOOOOO!”  Hold me closer, Tony Danza.
• This is darling for Blissdom business cards:

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?

Let me just say that I can stand in a board room or jet across the country, but I turn into a complete wuss once I step through Michaels.  All those women with glue stick burns on their fingers, willing to cut a bitch over the last vial of Martha Stewart glitter?  THEY TERRIFY ME.  Same thing with fabric stores.  Also, the strangest thing happens that once I hit the first aisle, I completely forget what I was there for.  Confidence takes a crash & burn so I stand there in the aisles, completely overwhelmed by the choices in felt.

In short:
Before Michaels:  BIG SPARKLY INSPIRATIONAL UNICORNS OF HAPPINESS!

After Michaels:  I WILL NEVER ACHIEVE ANYTHING GOOD IN MY LIFE.

yeah.

I’m standing in line with Harry in the push cart & a matronly lady turns to me.

“Is your mother’s name Karen?” she asks.

“No,” I say politely.

“You look like my friend Karen, so I figured you must be her daughter,” she explains.  I shrug.  Raleigh is a pretty decent-sized city.

“With two children, I figured you had to be her,” she persists.

Is this lady drunk?  I only have one child in the seat & I’m pretty sure the firstborn’s that were traded for Christmas Cricuts weren’t eligible for the 40% off coupon.  Like I said, I’m on a budget so if it’s not on sale, it’s not in my cart.

“You know,” she says.  ”With your boy & the one on the way.”

oh.

shit.

Awkward silence abounds.

Does this lady not know Rules of Feminism #253: Don’t ask a woman if she’s pregnant unless the fetus is 75% down the birth canal with a hand waving?

I knew if I stayed in bed, we’d have a repeat of Friday where I was in pajamas at 4pm with no shower & pretty much a sorry state of affairs.

So I got up, poured a cup of coffee & popped muffins in the oven.  Straightened my hair & rubbed a dash of perfume under my jeans & light sweater.  I felt silly at first – who would see me?  I looked at the silk tops & pencil skirts & lined slacks hanging in my closet.  I’m going to need more jeans.  Will I ever wear that purple silk shift again?  I’m going to need a hat & gloves that aren’t dressy.  Should I just have a “shop my closet” sale?  I’m going to need more Zoloft.

I typed out words & listened to the quiet, finding thankfulness in not having to commute.  That bumper-to-bumper traffic was really fraying my nerves & patience.  The oven dings – muffins are ready.  I make a second cup of coffee & wonder if the new kitchen chairs will be delivered soon.  I wonder if I should send them back, even though they were purchased with Christmas money.

An hour later, Harry stood at the top of the stairs, bleary-eyed & hugging his stuffed monkey.

& so this new journey begins, the journey with an unexpected start & no set end.

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.