Tuesday, December 21, 2010

On No Sleep

We aren't that far removed from the infant days of intense sleep deprivation so you'd think plunging back into it wouldn't be a big deal, right?  WRONG.  It stinks!  After basking in weeks, maybe even months, of glorious mostly uninterrupted nights of sleep our luck seems to have temporarily (let's hope) run out.  It is a battle people.  A battle to get her to go to sleep, stay asleep, and sleep in a little in the mornings (is 6 a.m. too much to ask for?). 

Apparently, there is a common 18 month sleep regression that no one bothered to tell us about.  We've literally been scratching our heads for a few weeks now wondering what to do.  Do we stink at this parenting thing?  Why can't we do something as simple as get our child to sleep?  She is just not interested in sleeping.

Example, a few weeks ago she woke up at 3:30 a.m. asking to go outside and look at Christmas lights, and I am not even kidding, she is obsessed with them.  This pleading to go outside coupled with talking and singing of various hits like "Twinkle, Twinkle" and "Jingle Bells" lasted until around 4:30 a.m.  She is also mightily resisting naps and waking earlier and earlier in the mornings.  

As an aside, she did sleep well last night (after a bedtime bedlam with daddy), yet we chose to drag our bottoms out of bed in the middle of the night to check out the lunar eclipse.  What were we thinking? 

So here is my crackpot theory of why this is happening.  After reviewing all the variables it seems we have teething, development of new motor skills like dressing/undressing, MAJOR verbal development, and her realization that she does not have to agree with every decision we make for her.  I also think she is really afraid that she will miss something. 

I keep reassuring myself that this is but a blip on the radar of sleep habits and soon she'll go back to sleeping like an angel.  Right?  RIGHT? 

Here are some snippets of what we've been up to lately:

Practicing with the shirt.
When I asked here what the triangle was she said "circle", and when I asked her what the circle was she said "circle" and when I asked her what the square was she said "circle".  When I finally pointed to the heart she said "heart" and melted mine.

Practicing putting on pants.  Can't really see it here but she had leggings, capris and pj shorts on.  That was soon followed by another pair of shorts, a shirt on the legs, and a shirt on the head.


Thursday, December 9, 2010

Monday, December 6, 2010

Settling into the Season

Still here.  Still alive.  Still breathing.  Still adjusting to the time change (I know).

Every year it comes.  The early darkness and the shift in the angle of the sun take me by surprise.  Like the warmth has never been snatched from the air before or that I’ve never seen plants willingly drop their leaves for a long winter nap.  It is truly wondrous and terrible all at the same time to be forced into contemplative, indoor evenings.  While Mother Nature prepares for her renewal in the spring, we fall in step with her rhythm and do the same.

November passed in the blink of an eye and we enjoyed lovely and delicious Thanksgiving celebrations (seriously, where did it go).  The abundance of joy in our life is stretching my heart to its limit. 

Last week we put our tree up as a family while listening to Christmas tunes or "oo-sic" according to Cora.  She can already sing jingle bells (Gee Ba-Baaaa, Gee Ba-Baaaa).  Even at 17 months old, she is totally enamored by all of it which is making this mama fall in love with this special season even more.  To hear her say "baby Jesus" is just about the sweetest thing ever. 

Tonight, the dog and I went for a run after Cora went to sleep (just can’t do it in the mornings right now) and it was so peaceful.  Couldn’t help but hum “Silent Night” as I passed by cheerily lit houses while breathing in crisp air, my feet the metronome for the melody.  Those twinkly lights all heralding faith that the light will come.  And it does.  Again and again without fail, but each year the fading into darkness makes us question. 

As I rounded the corner for the homestretch of my run I was breathless as I approached our glowing home, physically and emotionally.  Standing in the street, panting dog at my side, breath cutting the air I admired our quaint house.  Here is my life, laid out in front of me.  I can see Rob walking around inside and the tree softly lit yet so radiant.  Cora tucked in with the company of puppies and sock monkeys and handmade quilts.  I see it all so clearly and am aflutter with joy.

I really want to soak up this season of anticipation and all of its importance.  So I think I’ll sign off and snuggle up on the couch with Rob, some Christmas jazz and the warmth of our tree.