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Thursday, November 21, 2013

A happy list

It's quiet in my house right now. 
The only sounds I can hear are the clock above the kitchen sink ticking, and the rain pattering on my deck. 
No baby cries, no requests for food, no football on the TV, no music.
Just quiet. Just stillness.

I don't remember the last time I just sat here and enjoyed the quiet. I feel like my life has been filled with just so much noise. It's been kind of a crazy week and it feels like my mind was always preoccupied with something. Noise of some kind filling my brain. 

<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
 
I just spent 20 minutes typing up a post, but it was whiny and annoying about how crazy my day has been, about how messy my house is, about how stressed I am about school.

But then I found that all that noise was really just stressful thoughts. So I deleted the whole thing. So here are some positive things going on right now.

1.) I finished painting Savannah's room. Hopefully after Thanksgiving I'll get around to organizing and decorating her room.

2.) I just wrote a paper on Theodora and Justinian. With one hand. In 1 hour. While holding a crying baby. Mama's got some serious paper writing skills.

3.) Savannah can't say "Because" she says it "cubuz". It's too cute to correct her.

4.) Hunger games party and movie on Saturday with my Mom and Sister. Team Gale all the way baby!

5.) I leave for Mt. Shasta on Sunday for Thanksgiving. We haven't been out to Mt. Shasta for Thanksgiving since 2008. We were dating, and I tried to impress Bryant's parents by making a pie that was a total failure. I'm going to make it again this time and it will be a win!

6.) I ate Taco Amigo like, 4 times this week. 2 of those times was actually in the same day... Stress eating? Or just pure laziness? You decide.

7.) Bryant bought me flowers. Do you even realize what a big deal this is?? Bryant once gave me a small box of chocolates for valentines day, that he got as a gift from someone else and re-gifted to me. He thought he was really clever, because it was a "free valentines gift" and didn't have to worry about it. He also once bought me a pillow for 99 cents for our first Valentines day together. Mr. Romantic over here...




And here are some moments from various temper tantrums this week. Because they are always funnier after they have passed...

Goodnight!

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

On being a good neighbor and compromise

I wasn't sure if I even wanted to write this, since it kind of brings up negative and stressful feelings for me, but writing my thoughts down is one of the ways I work through things. It kind of frees up some space in my emotional bucket. So here it goes. You've been warned.


A few nights ago, I saw my mom pull up, and Savannah opened the door. My mom said she would come in in a bit, but that the lady who rents the downstairs apartment had wanted to talk. I thought that was a little weird, but not unusual.

When my mom came back up, she told me that the renter had a few complaints about me and my kids (my parents are the owners of this house, so they are the landlords). This really surprised me. She said that the lady had complained mostly of noise issues. She said that she didn't like hearing Savannah running around. The hallway is hardwood, and trust me, I know you can hear people walking around. I could always tell who was home by the sounds of their feet. But I got so used to it I eventually was able to tune it out. And I understood and empathized with her complaint because Savannah never walks anywhere. She's constantly running. I can see why that would be annoying.

She also complained that I clean in the middle of the night. This surprised me, because I usually do the bulk of my cleaning when Bryant get's home. He comes home, and relaxes while watching sports center, and keeps the kids entertained while I make dinner. After dinner, I try to get a load of laundry going, the dishes, and just general picking up and stuff that I wasn't able to get to with the kids clinging to me all day. 

But I shut down all cleaning by about 7:30-8:00. Mostly because I'm exhausted, partly because It's time to settle the kids down and concentrate on getting them ready for bed, and partly because when they first moved in downstairs, she told me that she goes to bed at 10pm. So I don't run any water except toilets, because I know how noisy the pipes are down there. And if the TV is on, we turn it way down (Bryant usually watches a game when the kids are asleep while I do homework, and he doesn't need the sound to watch a game. Plus, I don't like listening to the TV when I'm doing homework. It's distracting). So the fact that she had said I clean late into the night kind of made me feel really bad. And a little angry. Because I've always tried to be respectful of her bedtime. Besides, who really cleans in the middle of the night? Ain't nobody got time for that.

Then she had complained about Deagan crying during the night. As soon as my mom said this, I got a pit in my stomach, and that pit didn't leave for the whole weekend. I felt physically sick about it. Because I don't feel I can control that. 

Deagan started out as a decent sleeper. Getting up about twice a night to nurse. But he's 5 months old now. He should be sleeping through the night, but he's now getting up between 4 and 6 times a night. He fusses for a second, but I usually lay down with him and nurse him, and within about 5 minutes, he's back asleep. I've tried everything, from putting him in his own crib, To sleeping in Savannah's crib, to sleeping in the swing. To filling him up with rice cereal, a bottle, and nursing him before he sleeps. To co-sleeping, playing white noise, everything. But to no avail.

I have not slept entirely through the night since I was about 8 months pregnant with him. That's 7 months I've gone without a solid 8 hours of sleep. Believe me, I get it. No sleep really sucks. Like, really really sucks. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because I've already felt like a terrible mother, and here was my neighbor complaining about my son waking up so often and it was because I wasn't able to get him to fall asleep and stay asleep. I just felt like a big failure. So I reached out on facebook for tips on how to get DJ to sleep through the night. I got a lot of good recommendations, and a lot of support. But I still just felt so bad that I had bothered my neighbor so much, that she had to go to my mom to tell her about it. I felt like I was being tattled on.

That night was really rough. Now, Deagan is not a screamer. He's really easy to figure out what is wrong when he starts to cry. A quick diaper change, feeding him, or even just picking him up and cuddling him usually does the trick. He really is such a happy and easy going baby. But that night, he got a little fussy. He also had a slight fever for the last couple of days and I figured he just wasn't feeling good. But as we approached midnight, he started to cry. He didn't want to nurse, he wouldn't take a bottle, his diaper was dry, he wasn't too hot or too cold. I could not, for the life of me, figure out what he needed. And as he got increasingly louder, I remembered what my neighbor had said, and I jumped up, grabbed my bathrobe and a blanket, and took Deagan out to the car so that they wouldn't have to hear him downstairs. I sat in the front seat of the car in the driveway, rocking and shushing him, all while crying harder than he was for almost an hour.

The next day, I found myself trying to be quieter. I go barefoot in the house, but I decided to put on some socks and I kid you not, I was sliding around the hardwood so I wouldn't be so loud. At one point, Savannah was throwing a fit so I stuck her on the couch for a 2 minute time out. She started to cry and scream, and so I immediately took her out of time out because I didn't want my neighbors to hear her. 8 o'clock rolled around and Bryant and I went into whisper-mode. We didn't even have our nightly lounge on the couch and talk moment. We just hung out in our room quietly and went to bed early (early for us is 10pm. Thankfully DJ was asleep by then)

The whole weekend I had that awful feeling in my stomach. Like I had done something wrong and had been tattled on to my mother and I was ashamed of myself and embarrassed by how loud my kids were.

But then Sunday rolled around, and I didn't even want to go to church for fear of running into her and having that feeling wash over me again. So I laid pathetically on the couch crying because I was so tired after another night of no sleep when Bryant suggested we go for a drive.

It was exactly what I needed. The kids fell asleep 5 minutes into the drive so Bryant and I got a chance to just sit and talk. That's something that unfortunately, we rarely get time to do anymore. This morning, I woke up and realized that I couldn't, and shouldn't change all of my living operations. Sliding around in socks to be quiet for them? Just about the dumbest thing ever. Not to mention, not entirely safe (but it was sort of fun for the first 10 minutes or so...) Not getting a chance to unwind and talk to my husband? Not worth giving up. Savannah needed to be in that time-out because she needs to learn about consequences for her actions. She needed to sit and cry and scream, and get 1 minute tacked on for each minute she whined about being in time-out, because that's how I parent.

I couldn't live with the feeling that I was failing so miserably at being a good mom and being a good neighbor. Because let's face it, I am failing at it. But it's a learning experience for me. I'll never be a perfect mom, and I will probably forever be the world's worst neighbor, but I can't let trying to be the perfect neighbor and making other people comfortable get in the way of parenting my kids. 

I really think it all needs to come down to compromise. They aren't exactly the quietest people at 6:30am (um, like playing video games? Yeah, that happens...) But they have to live their lives too. And if anyone can empathize with her about getting no sleep because of a crying baby, it's me. Preachin' to the choir here! And I'd hope that they will come to understand that crying babies and footsteps above their heads is part of what comes with living in a basement apartment. But I know I can be quieter. I can try to put Savannah to bed earlier, and try to get her to walk instead of run around the house, and we can mute the TV completely when Bryant is just watching a late night game. We can put foam in the vents so sound doesn't carry, and I can get a long rug for the hallway to reduce foot-traffic noise. 

And I can turn the thermostat down to 65 and bulk up in sweaters and thick socks and heating pads, because they also complained about the heating being too high. (I keep the thermostat set to 70, which I thought was normal. What do you all set yours at? Am I just cold blooded or something?)

So I think I'll bake a plate of cookies as a peace offering and apologize to them. And explain to them that I'm just an exhausted young mom that's trying to sleep train her baby. And maybe offer to buy them noise cancelling headphones. Because I really like them. They are nice people and I understand that she's a single mom of teenagers who has to work early, and she needs her sleep. I can function on no sleep because I'm home all day. Sitting on the couch like a zombie while my kids climb all over me is my specialty. But I need to be considerate of her and what she has to deal with. There's nothing worse than going to work on no sleep.

Oh, and I need to apologize for washing dishes at 10pm tonight because I honestly thought it was only 7:00ish. No really, I thought it was 7pm and I just about passed out when I looked at my phone and it said 10pm. Where did my whole evening go???

Wow, how's THAT for the world's longest blog post? It probably doesn't even make sense, because I'm tired, it's midnight, and there is zero caffeine in this house right now.

But anyways, I feel better now that I've written this all down. Peace out!


Friday, November 8, 2013

On Becoming an "Adult"

This week, I finally bought that minivan.
You know, that minivan that everyone swears they will never buy, but then you pop out a couple of kids, and then you're tired of hitting your head while trying to cram 2 kids with car seats in that car that's so small it feels silly that you even have it at all. So the next thing you know, you're sitting at the dealer, signing a million papers and then you walk out and go "Oh, I have a minivan?" And as you drive home, you feel the last, tiny shred of your carefree 20's silently slip out the window.

Bryant and I sat there at the car salesman's desk alone while he had gone off to grab us some water (goodness knows we needed it!) and we were trying to decide if we wanted to trade in my car, or try and sell it privately. I began to think about my car. It was my first major "adult" purchase of my life. I was heading off to college, so my parents and I went to a lot, test drove a lot of cars, and within a couple of hours, I had bought myself a mode of transportation. Even though my parents co-signed, it was mine. Mine. I suddenly had something I was responsible for. But it was also a means of freedom. I could go anywhere I wanted, without having to worry about borrowing my parents car. I remember driving home and thinking "I feel so grown up. Adults buy cars, and I just bought a car."

But the truth is, I didn't really feel like and adult.

Then I moved out, and got an apartment. I lived in a 3 bedroom apartment that was old and falling apart, with 5 others girls that I didn't know. I was working at a clothing store from 3am-12:30, then going to school in the afternoons. I was terribly broke and at one point I quit my job at the clothing store because I hated it, and so I was desperately broke while looking for another job and I pulled out a loan to help me pay the rent, get food, and to even help with my car payments (a loan to pay a loan? Yup.)

But I loved it. I LOVED every minute of the young, single girl struggling to make ends meet life. Partly, because I felt like "Ok, now I feel like an adult. Adults live on their own, in apartments. They work and go to school and make friends and go to parties and stay up all night. They cook all their own food and do all their own laundry, and pay bills and stuff. I can do whatever I want, I make all my own decisions, I have all this freedom! I am an adult!"

Even though I told myself that, I knew it wasn't true. I didn't really feel like an adult. Deep down, I knew I was young and just out having the time of my life. That this wasn't what "the real world" was like.

Then I got married. And I thought "Yes! I am an adult! Adults get married, and they live in tiny 1 bedroom apartments and they combine bank accounts and they have jobs and they come home and cook meals together and they pick out furniture together and go on vacations and wow, I really feel like and adult!"

But really, I didn't feel like an adult. I knew I was just having fun and playing house.

Then I had my first baby, and as I sat in that hospital bed, holding her, Bryant said "wow, we are adults now!" Because that's what adults do. They have babies and change diapers and they go to playdates and read bedtime stories together.

Last year, we got our first credit cards, and we got a costco card, and I thought "Wow, now I'm an adult. Because adults buy toilet paper in bulk and they put Christmas presents and vacations on credit." But really, I didn't feel like an adult yet.

And then we moved into the upstairs of my parent's old house and we had a 2nd baby. And I thought "This is what adults do. They have more kids, and they move into a 3 bedroom house, and they potty train their toddlers and they go without sleep and they never seem to get on top of housework and suddenly they find themselves wanting (needing) a minivan."

So that's what we did. And as we sat there and waited for them to finish detailing the van we were about to take home, I said to Bryant "Honey, we are adults now" And he said "No we're not, we're kids raising kids."

And that's when I realized that although I'm 26, and have come a loooong way from buying that first car years ago. I always thought the transition from childhood to adulthood happened right at 18 years old. But it's not true. That transition takes most of your 20's, possibly your 30's (I'll let you know when I get there...) and I dare say I will always be in a gradual state of transition my whole life. I don't know when, or even if, I will ever really "feel" like an adult. I don't know when that switch will flip and I'll go "Ok, now I made it. I'm officially an adult". But for now, I'm just really enjoying whatever stage of life this happens to be right now.

Everything is just so completely bonkers and I love it.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

It's the Great Pumpkin Savannah Jane!

Halloween was a hit this year!
Of course, if you remember Savannah from last year, then you know that Halloween is one of her favorite holidays. She talked all month long about Halloween and ghosts and witches. She would come running into whatever room I was in and dramatically stammering "Mom! Th-th-theres a g-g-g-GHOST!" Like shaggy from Scooby Doo, and then just laugh hysterically. And she enjoyed taking the fake spiders her aunt gave her and scaring everyone with them.


 ^Bryant has this thing where hollowing out pumpkins grosses him out. That must be a trait that's passed on because Savannah, despite loving pumpkins more than probably any person likes any kind of vegetable, thought the insides were disgusting and refused to touch it.^

 ^Yeah, she's kissing the pumpkins. I'll never understand 2 year old logic.^



 ^Those of you who know how cold it was, don't worry, Savannah actually had about 3 layers on underneath her costume, and I kept asking her if she wanted her coat but she refused.^






This year, we decided that Savannah would be Tinkerbell, Deagan would be Peter Pan, and I would be Captain Hook. Bryant found a captain America sweatshirt at Wal Mart at the last minute and threw on his captain America swim shorts and called it good.




 ^He also threw on some football gloves. Those sticky kind that are made for catching the ball better? Yeah, I'm not sure why...^

We started the night off by attending my parent's wards trunk-or-treat. Say what you will about trunk-or-treats, but I'm a believer. They are so nice for those tiny tots whose legs are too small to trudge up big hills in the dark. Savannah had more fun handing out candy than going around and getting it. Kids would come up and take a piece, and then Savannah would grab another piece and chase the kid down and put it in their bag for them. She was loving every minute of it.

 ^Her wings are upside down because she kept complaining that they were bugging her ears^

 ^My parent's are hilarious! My dad is the Ylvis "what does the fox say" guys, and my mom is one of the Duck Dynasty guys. The best part, was that my parent's ward is a much, much older ward and so when people asked who my dad was supposed to be, they looked at him like they wanted to ask "What's a youtube?" And some people thought my mom was being my dad for Halloween. But when they came over to our house, every person who came by knew exactly who my parents were supposed to be.^


Once it began to get dark, we headed home, where Bryant stayed home to hand out candy with Deagan and I took Savannah up and down our street trick-or-treating. She was so excited, but it took a couple of houses to understand proper trick-or-treating protocol for her. The first house we went to was our next door neighbors, and once they answered the door, Savannah let herself in, grabbed a giant handful of candy, and then proceeded to walk into their living room and play with the toys that were there.

 ^Sage was Peter Pan too!^

But after a couple more houses, she got the hang of it.

 She had a blast seeing all of the kids dressed up. One little boy was dressed like Jake from Jake and the Neverland Pirates (her favorite) and he was walking past us, and Savannah yelled "Hey! Hey kid! Follow me, Pirates! Follow me to Neverland!" She was a little bummed when they just kept walking.

She liked running up to all the houses and knocking on the doors herself. She kept telling me to  wait at the bottom of people's porches, but I followed her (a few steps behind) because most of the time, she wasn't knocking hard enough for people to hear. But one house freaked her out pretty badly. They had a motion sensor fog machine, and it made a loud spitting noise and she panicked and jumped into my arms. I've never actually SEEN a person jump into someone's arms because they were sacared except in cartoons, but Savannah ran off the porch and leaped into my arms saying "No! I don't like the smoke! I don't like it!" After that, she was too scared to go knock on doors, and would wait at the bottom of porches saying "You go mom, you go knock and get candy ok?" So we only hit a few more houses after that.



At one point, we were coming back down the street and were heading to the house across from mine, when I looked over and saw someone dressed in all black with a black hoodie pulled over their head hiding under the window, and looking into my house. I was really creeped out and was ready to call Bryant and tell him someone was creepin' out the window.  But then he turned around and yelled "It's the Knicks and the Bulls!" And a guy behind me yelled back "What's the score?"


Aha, I got it then. He was just a guy trying to see what game was playing on my TV... Which is still creepy.



My parents and my brother and his wife, my sister and my grandparents all came over to visit that night and we ordered pizza and watched Beetlejuice. It was really great to have everyone there!


^The next morning, she marched into my room, crawled in bed next to me, and we ate candy for breakfast. Are you jealous?^

 ^I think I have a good start on Movember^

I hope you all had a fun and safe Halloween!


Past Halloween posts:

2012  When Savannah was the cutest Pumpkin Ever
2011 When Savy was a princess and Bryant was an old man
2010 Halloween pre-children
2009 Our first Halloween as a married couple. And when I was waaaaayyy skinnier. And, I was also Peter Pan that year.