It's Official

Ethan and I both went to bed at 10:15 last night. And I didn't even have to forcibly tuck him under the covers and shut the lights off or handcuff him to the bed or drug him.* We were both, well, tired. And so I think it's official: we are capable of organically going to bed earlier. And I say "organic" because I mean that it just happens (not every night, but some nights) without either of us even talking about it like it's some big thing. Not a big thing? I think that means it just is.**

I'm really looking forward to the weekend because we have a bunch of one-year-old birthday parties, which you can never get enough of, and we have Leo's "gym" class, which he can never get enough of.

Happy weekends, everyone!

xox,

Rebecca

*Why would I have handcuffs or drugs? I don't have handcuffs or drugs.

**Two years ago? We would have patted ourselves on our backs for "going to bed so freaking early"! Now? It's just survival.

All I Want for Christmas is for You to Take a Nap

My 15-month-old decided to stage about 13 nap protests this past week, while we've been traveling, and between the time change, a slight cold/cough, the fact that he has made it quite clear he'd like to switch to one nap from two, and his "revelation" that we've been sharing a room with him, it's been — how shall I put this? — slightly like getting a wild bear cub to fall asleep next to a tiny kitten and not eat it.

I'm tired. Ethan's tired. Poor, poor Leo has been very tired. Earlier today, I found myself at Walgreens, on Christmas, unshowered and at the end of my rope, trying to convince a well-meaning pharmacist to help me come up with an over-the-counter medicine to stop my baby's cough so he would sleep, dammit! (No such luck. Said pharmacist offered me nothing useful whatsoever because he didn't want to get sued. Thanks a lot, well-meaning pharmacist).

Mercifully, Leo took an hour and forty-five minute nap later in the afternoon, and his mood visibly improved. And, because sleep begets sleep (didn't you hear that a million times in books and on get-your-baby-to-go-to-sleep websites and from all-knowing septuagenarians when your baby was a newborn?) he even went to bed tonight, knowing there was a full room of raucous adults enjoying cookies just steps from him, without protest. A great Christmas present, indeed.

How is your child's napping schedule these days? Is it consistent? Is it cruel and just completely unfair? Or should it make me very, very jealous?

PHOTO CAPTION: Leo's new favorite gift — a "Lil Texan" sippy cup. Genius.

xox,
Rebecca

Early

Are you an early person? I am most decidedly not — but I'm starting to recognize that for the next decade or so (until my kid(s) are old enough to get up and make themselves breakfast on Saturday morning*), I'll have to be one, like it or not. 

I've actually started appreciating that early morning time (rather than just dreading it), because it feels so kick-ass to have already accomplished a million (yes, a million; I am not exaggerating in the slightest) things by 9am, when my old** self would have just been getting up.

The best early mornings are still the ones when we all get up, together as a fam, and do something fun like make pancakes or throw Leo pieces of trash that he can deliver to the recycle bin and then bring back to us proudly in an endless loop. But it's a work-in-progress, that's for sure. When I see families all dressed and raring to go at the coffee shop at 7:30am, and I'm awake but I look like I crawled out of a sewer, I'm always impressed. Will we get there? That remains to be seen.

Are you an early person? Or does getting up before 8am make you cringe and cling to your pillow like a life raft?

*Friends with kids older than ours have informed us that the greatest day of your lives is not your children's graduation or the birth of a grandchild — it's the one when your oldest kid learns how to make breakfast for the younger one(s).

**springier, sprightlier, less groggy and able to work a toaster

PHOTO CAPTION: Swim!

The Elusive Transfer

Every day, after I pick up Leo from his nanny share, I race home to get back, give him his bottle, and deposit him in his crib BEFORE he can have a chance to fall asleep in the car. If he does (fall sleep en route), it's disaster, since the odds of me being able to transfer him from car seat to crib with any success are very, very slim. And the idea that he'll only sleep twenty minutes in the car, and NOT AT ALL in his crib (leaving me with no time to rest, pay a bill, or work) is a scary one, indeed.

When Leo was a newborn, it was a different story. We could often do this (and carefully timed and executed "transfers" were a part of our everyday vernacular), but now, they just don't happen, unless it's late at night and dark out, in which case we can transfer him (during road trips, etc) no problem.

What is it with babies only being able to sleep in perfect conditions? I CAN SLEEP ANYWHERE, ANY TIME. LIKE IN CARS. ON COUCHES. ON THE FLOOR. IN SPAIN. DURING WORK. DURING CLASS. Why can't my baby?!

PHOTO CAPTION: That's "The Friend." We put him in Leo's crib to make him feel at home, and we often hear ourselves saying things like, "Look, your friend!" Suffice it to say, Leo cares not a whit about The Friend. It could be a piece of rubber. He'd probably like that more.

The Trouble with Napping Is

Napping is an incredible thing. What, I ask you, what would we do if our babies (brace yourself for this one) didn't take naps? My mom has informed me more than once that when I turned two, I declared that I would no longer nap. And guess what? I no longer did. Not ever again. Not once.

I never understood why my nap protest was such a big deal until now. The hours my eleven-month-old sleeps during the day are magical. Don't get me wrong, I love every minute of his raucous, let-me-climb-all-over-the-sofa-and-grab-every-hazardous-item-in-sight-not-to-mention-stick-my-finger-in-every-electric-socket wakefulness. But nothing, and I mean nothing, would ever get done without those naps (not to mention the fact that if he didn't doze during the day, he'd most definitely crumple into a sad little pile of tears and mush by 5pm).

During a recent BBQ-slash-pool-party that my husband and I attended for his work, which happened to take place smack dab in the middle of wee one's afternoon nap time, I strollered my baby for a full hour, round and around the pool, hoping against hope that he'd fall asleep, even though he generally refuses to pass out anywhere except his crib (usually a blessing, but other times, not so much). By the end of the endless loop, my baby was asleep, and I was mildly inebriated from the margarita mix that I sipped as I circled (hello, that's why we bought the City Mini cup holder add-on).

A mere twenty minutes later, Baby was awakened by an overly-lively coworker. I just smiled and said in a margarita-induced haze, "Oh, that's okay!" while secretly wanting to scream, "WOULD IT BE EVEN REMOTELY ACCEPTABLE IF I CAME OVER TO YOUR HOUSE AND WOKE YOU AT 2am!" but, at the risk of sounding like a lunatic, I refrained.

PHOTO CAPTION: The calm before the (napless) storm.