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I have nowhere else to go.

  • Posted on September 10, 2009 at 02:21

My old blog URL is gone, and I’ve been trying to figure out where to go. I need a new home, and this really isn’t it, I don’t think. I don’t know.

But right now, I just need to write, to get it out.

Tonight was horrible. Absolutely horrible. My son just wouldn’t go to bed. He was scared. Always something. He’s having a tough time, and I don’t know why. He screamed at us, told us to shut up, and get out of hear, and some other things that were really really horrible to hear coming out of his mouth. When we wouldn’t stay with him in bed, he said we were making him sick, and he was going to throw up. Oh, the drama.

And then we did the unthinkable. We washed his mouth out with soap. Only a little bit, and we did warn him (stop talking like that, or we will have to clean up your mouth soap). And thus, we had to follow through, when he continued to scream nastiness at us.

He was, to say the least, not happy. Didn’t get sick (we used only a tiny bit of soap).

And then I lay with him, held him tight, and helped him calm down.

And then? He told me he didn’t like school. (A new school).

That his best friend, the boy he’s been inseparable from at school and the park since they were 8 months old, bit him.

And I cannot even talk to the boys mother, because she’s forsaken us as friends. Oh yes, we used to be friends, met through our kids. However, for whatever reason, her and her husband don’t have any interest in being social with us anymore. It’s a horrible situation, for my son, and it’s a sad situation for us, because we thought that we were friends.

I’m just at a loss right now.  I’m 28 weeks pregnant.  I’m tired.  The big boy hasn’t spent a full night in his own bed in over a month.  He’s scared.  He’s clingly.  And he’s TIRED.  I feel like I am failing him.  He is just so young, and now I think that maybe he isn’t ready for SK, that we should keep him in JK for another year.

This parenting thing is exhausting.

And yet, he still wakes up in the middle of the night to eat…

  • Posted on February 5, 2009 at 02:29

…sometimes.

My night last night:

[I am sitting in the kitchen, with Stewie. It is after bath, but before bed. Dinner was finished a mere hour ago.]

Stewie (sitting on the counter, eating peas). Finishes bowl of peas, and announces, “Want more peas.”

Naomi gets more peas. (YES, he is eating PEAS. As a snack. Before bed. By choice. And I did make him say please) “It’s time for bed, Stewie, eat your peas.”

S: Eats peas. Stops. “I have to pee & poo.” (stall tactic).

N: Takes Stewie off the counter, and watches as he RUNS up the stairs (yelling that he’s “gonna beat me up”).

Stewie Gets to bathroom, takes off pants and I sit him on the toilet. Meanwhile, I put a load of laundry in the machine. Just as I’m finishing, I hear clamoring from the bathroom…

S: “I want to push the button!!” (on the washing machine). I pick him up, and he pushes the button. “I want to put the soap!!” (I’d already put the soap, but to avoid a tantrum – yes, a tantrum, tears and all – I gave him a cup of water to pour in.)

Stewie then runs back to the kitchen (he is naked from the waist down at this point) and demands that he get to finish his peas.  Back on the counter he goes, and continues to eat the peas.  Finishes them, and asks for more.  I try to convince him that there are no more, but he starts to cry, so I give him some more, but tell him that that’s it.

He eats the peas.  As he’s about to eat the last handful, he announces that he has to pee again.

Down off the counter he goes.  Runs to the bathroom again, this time on the same floor as the kitchen.  Pees.  Then pees again.  And again.  Puts seat down.  Goes to put the lid down, stops, looks at me, and says, “I watch it go down?”

N: (stifling a giggle) “Yes, Stewie, you can watch it go down.”

Stewie flushes, watching the pee, then closes the lid.  Washes his hands, and heads back to the kitchen.  This time he stands on the stool (that he carried in from the bathroom earlier in the evening) at the counter, and finishes his peas.

“Want grapes,” he announces.  There is a bowl of grapes on the counter waiting for him.  He eats grapes every night before bed.  Every. Single. Night.

Instead of eating the grapes, he takes them all off the stems and moves them to the bowl that held the peas.  We eat them together.

He stops me. “Bite it, mummy,” and he shows me how he bit the grape in half.

Stewie finishes his bowl of grapes (with several pauses for water).

“Want blueberries, mummy.”

At this point, almost 30 minutes after the whole endeavour began, I drag him upstairs to bed.

This scenario, or some reasonable facsimile thereof occurs every night.

Sunday Morning, and All is (not) well…

  • Posted on January 11, 2009 at 14:41

Sleep…ah…sleep…

To sleep…perchance…to dream…

So many people talk about sleep, and how much they don’t get. It’s the thing, you know, for us mummy bloggers. It’s all consuming.

I don’t get enough sleep.

No, I don’t get enough continuous sleep.  And, really, it sucks.

For those of you that followed me at my old digs, you know that I have 2 young boys.  Boys are active.  Boys, at least, my boys, fight sleep.  They greet the day with love and abandon.  It’s fabulous.  I just wish it wouldn’t happen at 6 am!  (For what it’s worth, I know that once they’re teenagers, I’ll be dragging their sorry butts out of bed and wishing for the days when they got up with a smile.  This doesn’t help me today.)

It also doesn’t help that the neighbours across the street are asshats, and contracted someone to come and plow their driveway at 2:45 am, thus waking up Linus.  This wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, however Stewie was not sleeping well, and coughing up a lung beside me.

It was a long night.