Motivation Monday: Practicing Kindness = More Sleep

I do not claim to be a parenting expert.  I don’t prescribe to an absolute theory or method.  I go mostly by my intuition, assessing results, and making the necessary adjustments.

I repeat this process many times.  Many, many times.

But the one thing that I feel that I am doing right is telling my kids to practice kindness.

I don’t like telling them to be nice because if they aren’t nice, then it is implied that they are bad.  And I am just not comfortable with that.

So instead I say, “Practice kindness.”  Sometimes you nail it, sometimes you don’t.  And as the wise Happy Monster Band says, “Practice makes progress.”  You can just try again.

I am going to take my own advice and practice kindness towards myself, which is my theme for 2014.

I totally push myself all the time – to keep my blog afloat, to keep my teaching deadlines, to keep my mental and physical health in check, to be present for my kids.  And I love the feeling of fitting it in – it is an adrenaline high for me.  But that adrenaline high only lasts so long.  And once it is quickly gone, I am tired and wished I had been gentler with myself.  Yet being kind to myself is always last on my list.

Well, kindness and sleep.

In January, I am exhausted, lost in a haze of balancing holiday madness and everyday stuff.  I usually just power through and fight the urge to rest.  But this January, practicing kindness means making sure I get enough sleep.  Nothing trips up my perspective more than not getting enough sleep.  Ironically, it is the first thing I cut when things get hectic.

This month, I am going to make sleep a priority.   That will probably mean more hat days and less makeup, and I am totally OK with that.  I am really looking forward to seeing how I feel after a month of being well rested.  Because I seriously can’t remember what that feels like.

Do you have a theme for 2014?  Do you have any goals that you are working on? I’d love to hear about them.

Bedtime Shenanigans

I’m going to start out by saying that I don’t know how I am even finding the energy to pluck at the keys of my keyboard since bedtime shenanigans has been costing me my sleep and, in turn, my sanity.

It’s not like all of a sudden Thomas was around an hour to go to bed and then up  1-3 times during the night.  Like any bad habit, it started with good intentions and then slowly snowballed into the largest snowball in the history of snowballs.  (OK, that last part may have been exaggeration.  Sleep deprivation, among many things, blows my perspective out of wack).

It started with a bad dream here and there.  So of course I would let Thomas sleep with us.  And then his head *may* have grazed the pillow before he swore he had a bad dream.  Next thing you know, he is coming in to sleep with us.  And once I bring him to his room, he comes back to our a few hours later.

He started out sweet and would move when I would ask him to give me some more room on *my* pillow.  Gradually, he would sleep right in the middle and when I would ask him to please move, he would declare that he was sleeping there.

Next thing I know, I am sleeping face to face with Baby Jammies and Thomas, who refused to give me any room in my own bed.  MY OWN BED!!

that’s when I started to slowly snap.

What was worse was that the hours of broken sleep were totally screwing with my head.  I couldn’t focus.  I just would sit in a semi-catatonic state while watching Calliou and checking my Twitter so I wouldn’t fall asleep.  I could feel my motivation for to do anything, even things that make me happy, evaporate.

Then on Friday, I watched The Super Nanny marathon.  And it clicked.  I am in charge here.  And because I am in charge, I need to change this. Because I am sucking at everything with this downward spiral of non-interrupted sleep.

But then there is a part of me that whispers to me in a patronzing tone that I shouldn’t be such a hard ass.  Thomas very well could be our last child, and he is not going to want to sleep with his parents forever.  I should soak it up and be happy.  Did I mention that he would bring me a stuffed animal to sleep with because he had Baby Jammies?  Ugh.  It was like my heart string were being yanked rather than delicately plucked.

As much as I want to cuddle all night long and then spend all day with Thomas without any downtime or nap time, I needed to appreciate the fact that I need some time to recharge.  And the hours of 9pm - 6am seemed like a totally appropriate time to do so.

So last night, I took Thomas to bed every time he came into our room, Super Nanny style.  I gently said he could come in the morning and cuddle, but needed to sleep in his room.  He cried.  I wanted to cry.   (Except that would have required too much energy).  But in the end, he seemed to have the idea that he needs to get rest in his own room.

I wish I could have some solid conclusion, but all I can say is that I see I light at the end of the bedtime shenanigans of the bedtime routine.

How do you deal with bedtime shenanigans?  Do you feel like the worst mom in the world because you decide to put up some boundaries to protect your sanity, or is that just me?

With Baby Jammies

*3-28-13 - I may have spoke too soon since shortly after I posted this, Thomas was up and screaming to get in our bed.  And then 2 hours later, again with the getting up!  It kind of felt like I was in perpetual triangle pose, the most uncomfortable pose that makes me feel angry.  That light at the end of the tunnel may be further away than I originally thought.


Ironically, today is Thomas's 4th birthday today.  And I am as tired as I was the morning I gave birth to him.   

My Sleep Deprived Rambles

I am newborn tired.  

You know that hazy, frustrated feeling that nights and nights of broken sleep deliver.  Between Thomas refusing to sleep in his bed because he feels crabby about being in his own bed and Marie hacking up a lung along with an ear infection, I feel so over-tired which then leads to becoming over-emotional which then leads me feeling depressed about everything from having to cook. another. meal. to the unsurmountable task of trying locate and pay medical bills.

I then end up screaming at the kids for something like bickering and refusing to get dressed.  I loose my focus and take twenty minutes to fold a load of laundry.  I then become confused why it is the afternoon and feel no sense of accomplishment.

Which is unfortunate because this has been a HUGE week for me!  I have a two-part series of raising boys with emotional literacy at The Mother Company.  A personal essay and an interview with Dr. Michael Thompson are both up and live so please please check them out and let me know what you think.  I have dreamed for writing for The Mother Company Ever since I met these amazing people two years ago at BlogHer!  I am just so excited about this!!

When I am not basking in the glow of my dream come true (which usually lasts 2.4 seconds before someone needs a snack or a drink of water or help with going to the bathroom), I am having some serious sleep deprived daydreams in which I fantasize about sleep and quiet.  I imagine that I get to sleep in a big bed with a fluffy, white comforter lots of pillows of varying firmness.  Alone.  As in by. my. self.  

I also envision myself taking a nap in a sound booth, like where my kids have had their hearing tested.  Why dream of a tropical beach when I can have peace and solitude in a sound-proofed room?  I think it goes without saying that I would want to be alone, right?

I am guessing by the nature of these fantasies that I am not only tired, but maybe in need of some me time doing some non-mommy stuff, no?

Does sleep deprivation make you *slightly* temperamental? 

August and the Tsunami of Guilt

Before I get to the actual post, I have two BIG favors to ask of you.  But will you please, please, please vote for me in these two contests.  The Skinny Scoop BlogHer11 Recap Post Contest in which the grand prize is for $100 Amazon gift card.  The Latte Love Contest grand prize is to introduce and interview the new milk mustache celebrity!  How cool is that?!  Be sure to vote for Erin R!  Thanks so much!  Mwuah, mwuah, mwuah!
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When I used to be a teacher, I DREADED this time of year. Although August is still sunny and hot, I knew in a matter of weeks, it was back to the reality of work. And as I revealed in Xtranormal movies one and two and mentioned throughout various blogs posts, teaching and I did not, how shall I put this, *mesh* very well.

But as a stay-at-home mom with two young Babes in Michigan, summer is supposed to be a glorious time of fresh air and fun times (at least for a few weeks before the thick, wet blanket of humidity covers the area, nearly smothering us to death). Summer is magical and fun and carefree.

And long. So very, very long.

I was surprised by these very strong feelings of wanting summer to end.

To be quite honest, I am exhausted to tears by mid-August. I just can’t keep up this late night/early morning pace for much longer. (My Babes are poster children for the saying, “Sleep begets sleep.” They sleep *less* the later they go down for the night. And don’t even get me started on the witching hour(s) that occur between 4:30p.m. – 7p.m.).

And then the tsunami wave of guilt crashes down on me:

• We have had so much fun this summer; why do I want it to end?
• I’m a horrible mom because what kind of mother wants to not spend time with her kids?
• This is Marie’s last summer before Kindergarten; I should want it to last FOR.EV.ER.

Between the anxiety of Kindergarten and the guilt of wanting the very short season of summer to end, I was beating myself up around the clock – even during sleep! I knew this because every morning, my jaw and shoulders would be tight with tension.

And then I came across this post by Wendi Aarons. I burst out laughing! (Well, as much as I could with my jaw wired shut with stress). So I am not crazy because this heat is stifling and having to be “on” for 14 hours a day with no break! This is normal! Thank goodness.

And then I read this post on Scary Mommy’s website by Yael Saar. Here is a quote that resonated deeply within my weary soul (but be sure to read the rest of the post because it is amazing):

But how about, just for a moment, we examine this: it is only human to get frustrated when our childcare duties balloon, while the rest of our responsibilities don’t come down even one notch. Add to that some record breaking heat-waves, summer viruses, a road trip, or perhaps cousins or in-laws visiting from out of town, and what you get by the time August comes around is a lot of cumulative stress. And now we still have the rest of August ahead of us, and by the time we arrive at the joys of the back to school prep, nobody should be surprised that it is mom who desperately needs a vacation.

One word: liberated. And if I had to add a second: relieved. Next time I think I am a bad mom, I’m going to remind myself that I am just tired. So very tired.

August (especially, mid to late August) is a tough time for me. For everyone, really. Thanks for these wonderful posts written by these amazing women. If you ever question what kind of effect your writing has on others, please remember how you were able to make at least one mom laugh out loud with relief and be kinder to herself next time she feels guilty for being human.

So how are you hanging in there these last few weeks of summer?

Don’t You Know Who I Am?!?!

I love how celebrities use that line when they want something and think the person is just going to give them whatever they want because of who they are. They say it with such clout and fierce sense of self-entitlement. It’s so pompous and asinine. That’s why I think it’s funny, when Thomas had been crying for his second straight hour in the middle of the night, and I had the urge to yell over his screams, “Don’t you know who I am?!?!” Like he should care!

Let me back up first. Thomas created a nice, little schedule for himself when he was first born. He ate every three hours (which I thought was great for a breast-fed baby), and he slept through the night (11-5) around two months. And then he turned three months, and it’s like he said, “Yeah, this isn’t working for me anymore. I’m not getting enough face time around the hours of midnight and 5 am. So see you guys then.” Actually it’s a bit more complicated than that. He would go on these nursing strikes and arch his back and cry. My fast letdown was causing too much air intake. This would cause him not to eat enough, which would cause him not sleep, which would cause some pretty horrible crying fits. So I pumped and gave him a bottle, which turned into half breast milk and half Similac Advance, which turned into all formula. (The guilt I felt from that broke my heart on top of all this other drama, guilt that would be best shared in another post). And when that didn’t work, the doctor said he probably had acid reflux and put him on Prevacid and Mylanta Supreme. The Mylanta Supreme didn’t work, so the doctor said I had a fussy baby. I agree, but I don’t think he’s fussy because he likes to cry; I think there is a reason. So I changed to Dr. Brown’s bottles, Nestle Good Start Formula, and Mylocin drops. That day went so well! He didn’t cry when he ate, he napped pretty well, and smiled a lot. I thought I finally figured out all the pieces to his very complicated puzzle. Until 1:30am last night. He woke up cooing which quickly turned to crying. For two hours. I didn’t think he was hungry since he ate at 10:30 pm, but after two hours of trying everything, he ended up eating 3 ounces, fell asleep, and then was up again at 4:30 am for another fifteen minutes. But during that two hour jag, I felt like screaming, “Don’t you know who I am?!?! I used to be someone! I was a teacher, the head of the English Department! I have a Masters in the Art of Teaching! I have traveled the world! I am good at what I do!” However if you uncover all the layers of misdirected anger, it would really read, “What am I doing wrong? I want you to be happy! I don’t want you to be a miserable boy who ends up acting out, and then people say, that’s a boy for you. I want you to be understood and happy. I am usually successful at the things I do. I am trying so hard. I feel like I am failing you. And that makes me feel so guilty!” But at 3:00am, things come out a little angrier due to lack of sleep.

And I know I am somebody. I’m a Mom (although I don’t like to be painted solely with that brush because I like to think I have an identity aside from that, but taking care of an infant and a three year old there is little time for anything else), and that’s a really important job. I have worked long enough as a junior high school teacher to see the products of horrible parenting. So maybe I’m projecting some of my fears, but hey, I haven’t slept a whole night on a consistent basis in almost a year. Sleep deprivation can do some crazy things to my perspective. I just want to be a good mom to my babes; and right now, that is the last thing I am feeling.

Sleep Deprivation as a Form of Tourture

I read a headline (and only the headline since that’s how my day was going) about how Cheney knew about water boarding. I scoff at water boarding. If the CIA is serious about torture, the agency would use sleep deprivation. It is now no wonder to me why sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture. I feel like I have lost my mind and sanity. (I actually yelled at my DH to stop calling the binkie, a binkus). This insanity is probably why I don’t remember infancy as this difficult. NT is now over three months old, and he is just developing the wandering eye while he is nursing. He keeps bobbing on and off, so I think he’s still hungry which is why he only takes 45 – 50 minute naps. In my mind (which is not a stable a place, mind you), I feel like GM (now three years old) was taking 2 hour naps by now and sleeping through the night. As luck may have it, I kept track of her sleeping and eating habits in a notebook. Although she was a very focused nurser, GM was not sleeping through the night for another two weeks, and her naps were erratic at best. I think I remember it differently for a variety of reasons: 1) I had a touch of postpartum depression, and 2) I was only caring for one. (I was unable to come up with this idea on my own, so thank you RV. You are an awesome friend)! When she napped, I napped. Now when NT naps, I am taking care of my GM the best I can on minimal sleep. It makes for long days. I remember that soon after NT was born, I looked at the clock, and it was 9:00. Then, before I knew it, the time was 9:50. Worst of all, I didn’t accomplish anything in those lost 50 minutes except maybe get GM dressed. Who knows, I don’t remember. I do clearly remember the day I knew my life was never going to be the same when I became a mother of two. I was home for maybe a week; I exhausted, trying to recover from my c-section, and taking care of NT. My Mom was over and was going to occupy GM when NT and I were napping. When I was just about to go down for my nap, GM looked up at me with those baby girl eyes and said, “Are you going to play with me now?” She said it with such desperation that it yanked at my heart strings. I knew right then and there that I would never nap again. Since that moment, I have been running on empty. I try to stay present and enjoy my babes, but it’s hard. And that makes me sad because I want to soak up all the happy, smiley moments with these two, wonderful little people. Yep, sleep deprivation is enough to drive a person to the brink of insanity. The only thing that keeps me from going over that edge is that these babes need their mommy, and that alone is enough for me to push through this.

(By the way, I imagined this first real post to be written while sipping on a coffee, by myself and recharging my batteries. Instead I’m fighting to keep my eyes open, waiting to twilight feed NT before I hurry up and sleep fast. I also thought it would be about something other than complaining about sleep deprivation, but I guess that’s real life for you)!