I wish I'd had a chance to blog Thursday, when Wednesday was still fresh in my mind, but I keep having this thought 'I think we accidentally had too many kids'. Don't worry, it's a humorous, tongue in cheek thought, that I have, or say when I have failed yet again to achieve any sort of competency.
I haven't yet figured out how to add pictures to the new gizmo my brother got me for Christmas, which serves as an SD slot for our tower computer. I was going to try to figure it out, but apparently Jack needs to sit on my lap
now, so I'll be content with typing for the moment.
We've been sleep training Anthony this week. I had made some inroads on that project a while ago, but it was undermined by the two different kinds of flu that swept through my family, as well as a trip, and the appearance of a couple teeth.
Some back ground on his sleep habits: never a particularly good napper, he was a night owl from the get go. He didn't want to sleep until 10:30 at the VERY earliest. However, by the time he was 2 months, he usually then slept through the night (8-9 hours) in his car seat (his preferred sleeping location, which was ironic, because he hated car rides). At 4 + months, I started sleep training, emphasizing naps, because they were clearly deficient, and he seemed very tired. As usually happens, he wanted to move his bedtime much earlier after this commencement, so now he was waking at least 2 times a night to eat. This is developmentally appropriate, but most days I questioned why I had turned a baby who had let me sleep uninterruptedly into one who now woke me up at least twice. (I knew the answer but it did seem like lunacy!)
Then when things got worse, and we had a lot of back sliding, he wasn't napping well again (and we still hadn't achieved any consistency there yet anyway) and he started wanting to go to bed later and later. Also, the regular awakenings for feedings continued. So now I had a night owl baby who also wanted to eat several times in his much shorter sleep cycle. Success! Clearly something had to be done. After the illness and the sleep deprivation, I was really considering weaning him, because I was starting to feel so run down. But I realized I should wait until we hadn't had so much illness and I hadn't been so overloaded by it (Wesley got sick but I didn't) to make any major decisions.
So Monday and Tuesday I put him to bed when he was tired. He had an amazing first nap Tuesday AM, almost 2 hours. It seemed like magic. Nights were going well, and though it was difficult, progress was clearly being made, and Anthony was getting many many more hours of sleep per day already.
Wednesday AM, I put him in his crib, and this time he protested. I left him, disappointed because he had napped so well the day before for this nap, but hoping he'd figure it out. I peeked in on him a few times, because he had gotten arms/legs stuck in his crib slats before, so I have to make sure he's okay.
After an hour, he was still mad, so it was time to give up and try again for the next nap later. I went to get him, and realized he had managed again to get his arm out of the crib. This time it was wedged between the crib and the closet door that serves as a wall. He had a little mark on his tiny forearm where it was trapped. I was completely traumatized. He seemed fine after removal, and was comforted immediately. I decided. Okay, that's it this crib is fired. It has let me down too many times.
Then I went to my mom's. I'd been doing my new exercise regime with the wii game for 10 days. I don't own a bathroom scale, and it was time for an evaluation. In checking my weight, I found I'd gained nearly a pound and a half in the last 2 weeks. While not devastating, this wasn't good news.
So I called my sister. I asked what she thought of our portable crib, as her baby was the last to stay in it. I set up our crib while I was talking to her. I was a little worried about the quality of the 'mattress' as it used to be my youngest sister's and has had a lot of use over the life of our family. Ashley recommended buying a new mattress, I ordered one from Amazon and Anthony went down for a nap in his new location. It took my almost an hour to get him down, because he was so tired, I was really committed to it. I'd put Jack down, and I heard him slip out. (The lock on that door had broken earlier in the week, due to all the wrenching on it.)
Despite all my soothing, Anthony was crying when I left the room. That kind of falling asleep in my arms/awake when I hit the crib behavior was a lot of why he was in sleep boot camp.
I went downstairs and discovered what Jack had done in his nap free time. I found that he had taken handfulls from the bag of flour I left on the counter the previous evening. He spent quite a lot of time throwing them around.
So that picture only shows a fraction of the mess, but gives you an idea.
As I listened to Anthony scream (figuring, well I couldn't hold him anyway, we can't live like this, he might as well try for a nap), I cleaned up flour in many ways with many devices. Right as Wesley got home from work, my bra strap finally strapped. This was my only bra. I really can't go out without one. Also, I haven't been able to buy off the rack bras since early high school, I have a weird size.
Anthony had finally drifted off to sleep, so Wesley and I said a prayer, and I headed off to Walmart. I knew there was no where in town that had what I actually needed. I was just hoping that I could find something 'for now'. At Walmart, I found something to sort of contain me. Not a nursing device of course, but at least I could leave the house (and be careful not to bend over).
After dinner and a shower, I put Anthony to bed in our port a crib. I had to leave to go to a parent meeting for an activity Molly is in. I knew he'd cry when I left, but I felt sick at the meeting, hoping he hadn't cried too long, that he was finally getting some rest.
I checked in with Wesley after the meeting, confirming that Anthony was quiet. I stopped by the library and Walgreens. I arrived home at nine, and looked in on Anthony at ten. On approaching our pack n' play, I could see that it looked wrong. I got closer and realized that the mattress (which I'd forgotten to velcro down, I hadn't used it in a while) was crumpled in half of the crib, with Anthony lying on the vinyl of the bottom of the playpen on the other side. He'd somehow moved the mattress, and was sleeping nestled between the metal cross bars holding up the crib. I kind of wanted to take a picture, it was just so unlikely, but of course I rescued him, he slept great that night on top of the now velcroed mattress, and we survived to tell the tale.
The next day the new mattress arrived. It was too small, so I'd bought the wrong size (despite measuring) It was a nice coup de grace to finish off my day of poor parenting.
