I confess: I am anti-cosleeping. Not for you and your family, but for me and my family. Please understand - if your kids sleep in your bed with you, and that works for you, then more power to you.
But it is not for us.
Let me explain why.
First, there are the safety issues. I'm not talking SIDS risk - I am really thinking more here about older babies and children, who are past the high-risk age for SIDS. No, I'm talking more everyday things: What if Daddy one of us rolls over in the middle of the night and squashes the baby? What if the baby gets tangled up in the covers and suffocates?
What if he decides he wants to play in the middle of the night and even though we've put him in between us he manages to squirm his way out and crawl around and fall off of our extra-large king-size bed?
Whew. Do you wonder how I sleep at night? Yeah, me too.
Second, there are the attachment issues. If my baby is sleeping in my bed at 1 year old...18 months old...2 years old...will he still be there at 3 years old? 5 years old? 15 years old?
Okay. Probably not 15. But chances are pretty good that it'll be a few years before I get a good night's sleep again.
Third, there is the comfort issue. Sleeping with a baby in your bed - especially for a nursing mom - means sleeping contorted into random uncomfortable positions - all night long. Well. Maybe that's just me. But remember how much I worry? The contortions are to keep the baby as safe from my husband myself rolling around as possible.
Fourth, and this is the most important one (when you accept that my safety concerns are pretty unlikely to happen) - the best thing for my relationship with my husband is to not have a baby in bed with us. That time before we fall asleep is quality time for us, and having a baby in between us makes it hard for us to connect during this time.
So while my child may be needy and really want that extra Mommy Time, the most important thing for him to be healthy and secure is to know that Mommy and Daddy have a good relationship.
That's why I'm against cosleeping, at least for my family.
But.
Sometimes you just have to do what works, and lately my son has been sleeping with us. It was either that or me sit up all night nursing him. The only way I was going to get to sleep lying down was if I brought him into bed with me. So I did.
We're going to work on getting him into his own room soon. But until then, he's going to sleep with us.
And I am enjoying it. My Baby Guy is snuggly. In the middle of the night, he snuggles up close to me and sleeps, and I love it. In the mornings, he wakes up smiling and jabbering. He leans over to my husband and gives him good-morning hugs. It's sweet and precious and something I'm going to treasure long after he's in his own bed.
That is my confession. I, a mom who is very much against cosleeping - at least for my family - am going to miss sleeping with my Baby Guy.
But I'm looking forward to having my Grown-up Guy all to myself again.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
A Viable Alternative?
I just read an article profiling the "Greening The Bluegrass" competition, in which teams of three to six high school students from 11 counties came up with ways to make central KY a better place. Most of them focused on ways to increase recycling levels in their counties, which is good stuff.
Plus, kids doing community service is always a good thing, right?
Sure, especially when they're being paid $7.25 an hour out of Federal Stimulus funds.
What?
Can't say that I've ever heard of students being paid a wage to participate in a competition. Did I mention that the winners each got a laptop and a printer? I have no problem with that part, but to be paid for their time spent developing their project?
Weird.
Anyway. That wasn't the reason I started writing this, but when I got started, I had trouble stopping. So back to my point. In one paragraph, the article states: "One group, in a presentation of alternatives to fossil fuels, listed 'electricity.'"
Whoa.
I'm not sure which is more appalling: the fact that some of KY's kids think electricity is an alternative to fossil fuels (most of KY's electricity actually comes from fossil fuels) - or the fact that the author of this article thought this was an appropriate observation to make in an article telling us how great the program was.
Plus, kids doing community service is always a good thing, right?
Sure, especially when they're being paid $7.25 an hour out of Federal Stimulus funds.
What?
Can't say that I've ever heard of students being paid a wage to participate in a competition. Did I mention that the winners each got a laptop and a printer? I have no problem with that part, but to be paid for their time spent developing their project?
Weird.
Anyway. That wasn't the reason I started writing this, but when I got started, I had trouble stopping. So back to my point. In one paragraph, the article states: "One group, in a presentation of alternatives to fossil fuels, listed 'electricity.'"
Whoa.
I'm not sure which is more appalling: the fact that some of KY's kids think electricity is an alternative to fossil fuels (most of KY's electricity actually comes from fossil fuels) - or the fact that the author of this article thought this was an appropriate observation to make in an article telling us how great the program was.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Keep your eyes on the road
Have you ever been driving along and, all of a sudden, a police car pulls out behind you? When that happens, everything important in life narrows down to one question:
Is he going to pull me over?
So if you're on the interstate, you slow way down, hoping he'll get tired of the game and pass you. If you're on a two-lane road, you stick it at the speed limit and pray.
But what if he follows you?
What if you're turning into your neighborhood, and he turns onto the street behind you? Did I just run that stop sign? Was I going too fast?
Do you breathe a sigh of relief when his lights remain dark, but start to get antsy when he stays on your tail anyway? Do you think, I can't wait to get to the end of the street, because surely he'll keep going and I can continue on my merry way?
But what if, when you get to the end of the street, he turns behind you?
Does your pulse pick up even though you know you came to a stop at that last stop sign, he can't possibly have a reason to pull you over, he'd have done it by now if he were going to, why is he still following me?
Then you get to the stop sign for your street, and you breathe easy. It's practically a dead-end street, so you're in the clear. He'll continue on, and you'll go home and play with your babies. You're still shaking a little, but ready to relax.
And then he turns behind you. Again.
Okay, okay. More coincidence. You know by now he'd have already stopped you if there were something wrong. But maybe you have a tail light out? Maybe he is making sure you go home (curfew, anyone?) Maybe he thinks you're driving a stolen car? Maybe there's someone hiding in my back seat waiting to kill me the moment I stop?
Let's not get carried away.
Finally, after the longest thirty seconds of your life (because you're creeping up the street at 5 mph just to make absolutely darn sure he doesn't have a reason to turn his lights on) you reach your house. You turn into your driveway.
And he pulls up in front of your house and stops.
This happened to me yesterday as I was coming home from work. The friendly somewhat taciturn officer got out of his car and started up my driveway. As I got out, before I could say anything, he grunted, "Your alarm was going off."
Alarm? Oh, our alarm. We got a house alarm about a month ago, and we're still working out the kinks. The police had already made one visit to our house, a few weeks earlier when my mom was staying with us.
I won't tell you who set the alarm off.
As the officer approached, I said something idiotic like, "Oh, I wondered why you were following me," and let him in the house. To my surprise, it was a somewhat legitimate visit, as neither my husband nor I had been home when the alarm went off. The best we can figure is one of the cats managed to knock something over and set it off using the motion sensor downstairs.
He checked things out, made sure everything was fine (either it was or whoever was hiding in the closet has now been there for over 24 hours and apparently isn't planning on coming out anytime soon) and left.
And I finally relaxed. But I did look out my window one more time to make sure he had gone.
Is he going to pull me over?
So if you're on the interstate, you slow way down, hoping he'll get tired of the game and pass you. If you're on a two-lane road, you stick it at the speed limit and pray.
But what if he follows you?
What if you're turning into your neighborhood, and he turns onto the street behind you? Did I just run that stop sign? Was I going too fast?
Do you breathe a sigh of relief when his lights remain dark, but start to get antsy when he stays on your tail anyway? Do you think, I can't wait to get to the end of the street, because surely he'll keep going and I can continue on my merry way?
But what if, when you get to the end of the street, he turns behind you?
Does your pulse pick up even though you know you came to a stop at that last stop sign, he can't possibly have a reason to pull you over, he'd have done it by now if he were going to, why is he still following me?
Then you get to the stop sign for your street, and you breathe easy. It's practically a dead-end street, so you're in the clear. He'll continue on, and you'll go home and play with your babies. You're still shaking a little, but ready to relax.
And then he turns behind you. Again.
Okay, okay. More coincidence. You know by now he'd have already stopped you if there were something wrong. But maybe you have a tail light out? Maybe he is making sure you go home (curfew, anyone?) Maybe he thinks you're driving a stolen car? Maybe there's someone hiding in my back seat waiting to kill me the moment I stop?
Let's not get carried away.
Finally, after the longest thirty seconds of your life (because you're creeping up the street at 5 mph just to make absolutely darn sure he doesn't have a reason to turn his lights on) you reach your house. You turn into your driveway.
And he pulls up in front of your house and stops.
This happened to me yesterday as I was coming home from work. The friendly somewhat taciturn officer got out of his car and started up my driveway. As I got out, before I could say anything, he grunted, "Your alarm was going off."
Alarm? Oh, our alarm. We got a house alarm about a month ago, and we're still working out the kinks. The police had already made one visit to our house, a few weeks earlier when my mom was staying with us.
I won't tell you who set the alarm off.
As the officer approached, I said something idiotic like, "Oh, I wondered why you were following me," and let him in the house. To my surprise, it was a somewhat legitimate visit, as neither my husband nor I had been home when the alarm went off. The best we can figure is one of the cats managed to knock something over and set it off using the motion sensor downstairs.
He checked things out, made sure everything was fine (either it was or whoever was hiding in the closet has now been there for over 24 hours and apparently isn't planning on coming out anytime soon) and left.
And I finally relaxed. But I did look out my window one more time to make sure he had gone.
Stellan Update
Stellan is better today. He's on a "temporary fix," so he will still need surgery, but his little heart has been in a normal rhythm since last night or early this morning, and he's finally been able to rest and have some milk. That's wonderful news!
It's hard not to worry about that precious little guy, especially when I look at MY precious little guy and imagine how I would feel if he were the one going through all of this. I'd be a basket case.
So let's keep praying:
It's hard not to worry about that precious little guy, especially when I look at MY precious little guy and imagine how I would feel if he were the one going through all of this. I'd be a basket case.
So let's keep praying:
- for Stellan, that God will heal him and that he has many more years ahead of him;
- for MckMama and the rest of the MckFamily, that they will be calmed and encouraged;
- for the logistics of Stellan's transfer to Boston to be worked out quickly and that the trip will go smoothly; and
- for the doctors in Boston, that they will have wisdom and that Stellan's surgery will be successful.
While we're at it, let's pray that the electrical pathway in Stellan's heart can be ablated without destroying Stellan's AV node. (If this doesn't make sense to you, click here and scroll down to the paragraph below Stellan's picture for more information.)
Please keep up the prayers! Little Stellan's life is in God's hands right now - and really, is there a better place for it to be?
I don't think so.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Praying for Stellan
Click on the picture above to go to MckMama's blog and follow updates on Stellan's situation.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Homearama
We went to Homearama tonight. But before I get to that, I'd like to give you a little update on the nap situation. It may not surprise you to learn that it did not happen. Then we got in the car. Things started out with some cuteness between the Bitty Birdie and the Baby Guy -
And then...halfway to where we were going...I looked back and -
Nice.
Anyway, back to Homearama. It's a home showcase put on each year by the Louisville Homebuilder's Association, featuring opulent excessive elaborate homes that look like they might belong in Hollywood. Or somewhere. Certainly not Farmville, KY.
But that's where we were, so I slung the Baby Guy in the Snugli, we snapped a leash backpack onto the Birdie, and took off for our mansion tour.
These million-dollar homes, to a tee, all boast unnecessary extravagant features like multiple balconies, large pools, theatre rooms that look and feel like miniature movie theatres, massive kitchens, children's rooms with attached playrooms...pretty much anything you can think of.
Plus a few, um, amenities you might not have come up with on your own. Like this one, which starts out looking like an innocent, if odd-looking, guest-bathroom toilet. Notice I said guest bathroom.
We examined this toilet a little more closely than the others because our daughter got to it ahead of us and had it open before we could stop her. We all overreacted and shouted at her to drop the lid, which apparently took offense and showed it by opening back up. On its own.
We decided this was a good time to run away.
Before we escaped, however, my mother-in-law and I noticed the following little gem on the wall beside it.
That was certainly the most entertaining feature of the evening, but there were many others that were quite attractive or interesting. For one, the item my daughter called the "silly piano."
And then...halfway to where we were going...I looked back and -
Nice.
Anyway, back to Homearama. It's a home showcase put on each year by the Louisville Homebuilder's Association, featuring opulent excessive elaborate homes that look like they might belong in Hollywood. Or somewhere. Certainly not Farmville, KY.
But that's where we were, so I slung the Baby Guy in the Snugli, we snapped a leash backpack onto the Birdie, and took off for our mansion tour.
These million-dollar homes, to a tee, all boast unnecessary extravagant features like multiple balconies, large pools, theatre rooms that look and feel like miniature movie theatres, massive kitchens, children's rooms with attached playrooms...pretty much anything you can think of.
Plus a few, um, amenities you might not have come up with on your own. Like this one, which starts out looking like an innocent, if odd-looking, guest-bathroom toilet. Notice I said guest bathroom.
We examined this toilet a little more closely than the others because our daughter got to it ahead of us and had it open before we could stop her. We all overreacted and shouted at her to drop the lid, which apparently took offense and showed it by opening back up. On its own.We decided this was a good time to run away.
Before we escaped, however, my mother-in-law and I noticed the following little gem on the wall beside it.
Ah. A toilet with a little surprise at the end for the unwary guest. Fully equipped with front and rear cleansing, a dryer, and your choice of an oscillating or pulsating water stream.
Um. No thanks.
That was certainly the most entertaining feature of the evening, but there were many others that were quite attractive or interesting. For one, the item my daughter called the "silly piano."
Why is it silly? you may ask. Why, because it plays itself, of course. Silly piano.
There were murals in some of the homes. I love the following one, but found it a little ironic. For obvious reasons.
And finally, my daughter's favorite thing - the swing set outside of the last house. I'm not sure whether we were supposed to let her on it, but we did. No one came running and shouting at us, so I guess it was okay.
She wasn't happy when we told her it was time to go, though. Can you see the pout? At least you couldn't hear the scream of two-and-a-half-year-old fury that went with it.
All in all, much fun was had by all, and we enjoyed dinner at Panera afterwards.
These homes are huge, excessive, opulent, way too much...and I'd take one in a heartbeat if I could. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't. They're extravagant, but some of those extravagancies are really cool. The theater room? Sweet. All those alcoves in the kids' rooms? Hello, what kid wouldn't love that? And reading nooks and fireplaces and, of course, humongous kitchens...yeah, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love to live someplace like that.
But I'm content with what I have, our little home with the awesome deck my husband just remodeled.
At least for now. ;)
Takin' Care of Business
I'll probably be posting off and on today as I get the chance. So, as I mentioned before, I took care of my daughter, who was beating knocking on her door and calling for Mama earlier. A little update on that situation:
I open the door and almost smack her in the face because she, in typical two-year-old fashion, is standing directly behind it, waiting for me to open it.
Me: "You need to take a nap now."
Birdie: "I need to sit on the potty."
Me: "Do you really need to sit on the potty?"
Birdie: "Yes. I'm pooping."
I most certainly did not, at this time, sniff her butt to see if she was really pooping. Not me. (Oh, wait, that's tomorrow's post, isn't it?)
Me: "No you're not."
Birdie: "Yes I am. I need to sit on the potty."
Me: "No you don't. You're just trying to keep from taking a nap. Are you trying to keep from having to take a nap?"
Birdie: "Yes."
Me: "Get in bed."
Birdie: [GRUNT]
Me: [grabbing her hand and dragging leading her to the bathroom] "Okay, okay - hold it! Wait! Wait! Wait!"
Amazingly enough, we made it, and even more amazingly, she did, indeed, fill the potty with poo um, take care of business.
I'd like to say that she then went right to bed and fell quietly and calmly asleep, but judging from the sounds of babbly singing coming from her room, I suspect that wouldn't quite be the truth.
Sigh.
I open the door and almost smack her in the face because she, in typical two-year-old fashion, is standing directly behind it, waiting for me to open it.
Me: "You need to take a nap now."
Birdie: "I need to sit on the potty."
Me: "Do you really need to sit on the potty?"
Birdie: "Yes. I'm pooping."
I most certainly did not, at this time, sniff her butt to see if she was really pooping. Not me. (Oh, wait, that's tomorrow's post, isn't it?)
Me: "No you're not."
Birdie: "Yes I am. I need to sit on the potty."
Me: "No you don't. You're just trying to keep from taking a nap. Are you trying to keep from having to take a nap?"
Birdie: "Yes."
Me: "Get in bed."
Birdie: [GRUNT]
Me: [grabbing her hand and dragging leading her to the bathroom] "Okay, okay - hold it! Wait! Wait! Wait!"
Amazingly enough, we made it, and even more amazingly, she did, indeed, fill the potty with poo um, take care of business.
I'd like to say that she then went right to bed and fell quietly and calmly asleep, but judging from the sounds of babbly singing coming from her room, I suspect that wouldn't quite be the truth.
Sigh.
Well, here we go.
I'm finally giving the whole blogging thing a try. I'd say "I don't know what I'm doing, so I'll just do my best," but who am I trying to kid? I've been a writer all my life and a computer geek for most of it, so put the two together, and I have something that I think I can manage pretty well.
Keeping up with it may be another story. I happen to be the world's biggest procrastinator a very, very busy person, so I really probably won't get around to have time to be writing too many posts.
I am also copying plagarizing adopting the strikethrough style I have seen on other blogs because I think it's funny, and I like funny. Figured I'd own up to it up front instead of letting you read this and think I'm just another copycat.
Because, of course, I'm not.
Now that we've been through all of that, here are the important facts about me: As you might have guessed, I have two little rugrats who call me Mommy (well, one of them does; the other one doesn't talk yet, but he would if he could). They're the precious little devils angels in the photo above.
And right now, the older of the two is standing at her bedroom door wailing, "Mama, Mama, Mama!" because she doesn't want to take a nap. Which she needs. Desperately.
I'd better go take care of her before she wakes her brother.
Wish me luck.
Keeping up with it may be another story. I happen to be the world's biggest procrastinator a very, very busy person, so I really probably won't get around to have time to be writing too many posts.
I am also copying plagarizing adopting the strikethrough style I have seen on other blogs because I think it's funny, and I like funny. Figured I'd own up to it up front instead of letting you read this and think I'm just another copycat.
Because, of course, I'm not.
Now that we've been through all of that, here are the important facts about me: As you might have guessed, I have two little rugrats who call me Mommy (well, one of them does; the other one doesn't talk yet, but he would if he could). They're the precious little devils angels in the photo above.
And right now, the older of the two is standing at her bedroom door wailing, "Mama, Mama, Mama!" because she doesn't want to take a nap. Which she needs. Desperately.
I'd better go take care of her before she wakes her brother.
Wish me luck.
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