Back from the Dead

I'm terrible I know. I tend to disappear for weeks at a time only to resurface again. I'm sure I've probably lost a couple of my 9 followers but hey that's pregnancy for you right?

I am now 35 going on 36 weeks. Amazing how time during the second pregnancy flies when you don't have the chance to stop for breath. My darling 2 yr 4 mo old daughter is starting to get really excited for the new arrival and keeps asking us when the baby will be coming. I am taking this interest as a good sign. I do expect there to be some moments where she is a bit put out though.

This began to manifest itself *I think* in the shape of my midnight visitor. Perhaps not entirely midnight, more like 2 am, 3 am, 4 am visitor. Our move to the 'big girl' bed back in March/April was fairly successful, although the little darling does have a tendency to run in around 6 or 7 depending on how she slept. It was pretty cute to see this tiny 2 year old with unruly bedhead burst into the room and stagger towards the bed. Clearly she had sprung from her own only moments before with the express intent of 'must get in parents bed'. One time she cuddled up next to me, ordering me to 'put your arms around me, Mama, now you go to sleep'. Ah yes, those were the days. Recently they were replaced with the same small figure streaking through the room like lightening but at the ungodly hour of 2 am.

Keep in mind that I am now at the stage where carrying a 33lb child at 2am in the morning back to an extremely low to the ground toddler bed is not really my idea of a good time. Due to the previous broken ankle fiasco when I initially get out of my bed it takes me a good couple of minutes to 'warm up' and walk without limping. So balance is not exactly my forte. The joyous responsibility of putting her back to bed now rests (pun intended) with the other half. Therein lies the rub, the other half is extremely difficult to rouse from sleep and would be more inclined to allow darling daughter to sleep in the bed for the remainder of the night. We have a king size bed, so I wouldn't really mind, except for the fact that she sleeps horizonally and for some strange reason her feet are always kicking me in the back. Yesterday, when whining to my mother I likened it to sleeping with my grandmother's flea bag dog, Rags. (Scary childhood memory that still continues to haunt me. That dog had some nerve, it was my bed grandma was sleeping in - why should I be forced out of my bed by a snarling Lhasa Apso?)

I tried the Supernanny solution - you know the putting the child back to bed a million times without saying anything. The only problems were 1. I couldn't even get to the door before she was back out again and 2. after 1 hour she was hysterical and I was exhausted. Now what Supernanny? For now I have no answers only more questions. But at 35 weeks pregnant I'm not really sure I have the stamina to deal with this right now. I am secretly hoping that the distressing cry of a hungry baby at all hours of the night will convince my little darling that she really wants to remain in her own bed.

Otherwise I am attempting to wrap up some of my completely research in chapter format for my PhD. It is not going to badly but that is only if I don't think that I have a 15,000 word chapter due July 1 and a 5000 word article also due that day. The one thing I am banking on is that this baby will take after it's sister and arrive late!

Back to bed

Or perhaps this post should be titled, "Back to my bed". Yes I have made the move back upstairs after three long weeks of sleeping in the kitchen. It has been wonderful to sleep on a decent mattress and not have some wayward spring digging into my back. The only problem now is that I have to plan very carefully when I will descend the stairs and when I will make my way back up, because it takes a lot of effort so I can only manage once a day for each. Now my 'homecoming' wasn't celebrated by all parties. Of course cupcake is overjoyed to have Mama back where she belongs, but there is someone else who put up some unusual resistance. Yes you read that correctly my own husband wasn't so keen on me returning. It seems that Mr. Sprawl has enjoyed his time alone in our bed. Really I can't blame him, with the exception of the annoying spring and sleeping next to my kitchen table, I rather enjoyed the luxury of not having his legs thrown over me in the middle of the night. I suppose he can't help himself, I mean the poor guy is over six feet tall. I don't however think that gives him the right to infringe on my side of the bed! Even when I was 9 months pregnant I would wake up in the dead of night to find his legs thrown over my stomach. So the natural solution to our problem is to get a bigger bed. I was informed the other day that we could buy the bed but when it arrives he would like just a week or so to sleep there by himself! This is what I can't understand, surely I am the delicate party in this matter, therefore my rest and comfort should be of the utmost concern. Unfortunately we have not come to an agreement and I am desperately awaiting the arrival of the new bed. At least I am out of the kitchen, there is nothing like waking up to the smell of last night's tacos...

The Month of Mama

For the last month Cupcake and I have had an intense closeness. By this I mean an emotional as well as a physical proximity to one another. It started harmless enough, in the mornings she would call out "Mama? Mama?" The first few mornings I thought, "It is nice to be needed" and I smilingly went to pick her up out of her crib. Then bed time routines evolved to only Mama reading her a story, singing our "Nana Baby" song (a lullaby made up by my Grandma Marcelina) and finally putting her to bed by stroking her face or tracing circles on her chest. Occasionally I would say to my husband, "Oh leave this to the expert." 

This was all well and fine until we went on holidays and four new teeth blossomed. 

Then this loving, cuddly relationship morphed into Mama waking up several times a night to soothe a cranky baby because she didn't want Dada. "NO Dada" was a phrase we heard over and over as she screamed for "MAMA". In order to get some sleep I then started to bring her into our bed to cuddle when she woke up at 5 am and wouldn't settle in her own bed. But what was really getting to me was that during this time by semi-pulled shoulder injury returned and hours of rocking, bending and lifting did not seem as therapeutic for me as they did for her. Then she decided we should relive our breastfeeding closeness and she would sleep lying on top of my chest. I have big boobs but they are not made to support a 26 lb child. Since when did Mama become so cool? I will have to remind her of this during her teenage years, but for now I need to figure out how to get Dada back in the picture so I can get some rest.

Another saturday morning

Ring

That is the sound of my unresolved dream.

No wait how could that possibly be 

the sound of a dream?

Ring

Confused, I stare blinkingly

at the green LED numbers over the pillow.

Momentarily they focus then blur then focus.

5.00am

It is the doorbell not a child. 

I drag myself out of bed

clearing the unresolved dream from my head.

Standing at the door

arriving home moments before

the heavens open up to pour.

Keys were misplaced.

The Weekend

It was an interesting weekend to say the least. On Saturday I attended a seminar, Reading Bracha Ettinger. It was delightfully theoretical and had my brain working in unbelievable directions. Bracha Ettinger is a Lacanian trained Psychoanalyst, also a friend of Julia Kristeva, Luce Irigaray, Emmanuel Levinas and Jean-Francois Lyotard. Wow. However, I was thrilled to my soul to listen to art historian Griselda Pollock join in on the day. Pollock has written extensively on Ettinger's theories and her art. I am a huge fan and now I am an even bigger fan! Not only was she extremely glamourous but also so insightful. And I picked up her pen. (go on you can call me a nerd). So after that heavy day I decided only some very cold beers could help me decompress. As it turned out I was right.

On Sunday I ran around after cupcake at the playground. She loved the swings and adored the slide, although Mommy only felt it was safe if we went down together. I spent the rest of the day minding her while Daddy studied for his exams. Last night was the night from hell, I really hope there are some teeth on the way soon! Co-sleeping with a child laying sideways in the bed can never be fun. Oh well at least I had her head, Daddy was stuck with little feet digging into his back.

This morning, despite feeling like someone had kicked my head in and made me sleep on a bed of nails, I roused myself to partake in some 'fresh air'. We ventured into the garden and had fun eating dirt and pulling weeds. Cupcake loved putting her arms in the watering can and dropping handfuls of compost into the flowerpots. It was very joyful for all involved (us and the two dogs) and nearly erases her lunch time escapade of hurling a bowl of spaghetti at my newly painted wall. Nearly.

Sleep - part two - Revenge of the baby

4.55 am? Piece of Cake! Try 3.50 am. Yes gentle reader you are not imagining that time. 3.50 am is when my darling (teeth gritting) baby woke up this morning. Full of vim and vigour, ready to get up and go. After nursing for an insanely long amount of time that I won't even talk about here, it was my turn to let 'rad dad' have his peace. Cupcake and I headed off downstairs to play her new favourite game, 'feeding'. She first goes to all of the kitchen drawers and then pulls out all of her bowls and cups. Next she reaches for the potato masher, not really sure why, perhaps it is something inherent in the Irish? Then she walks around feeding everyone from either the masher or a spoon. The irony is, she gets very annoyed if you do not 'eat' your dinner. Um, hello? Kettle this is the pot...

Sleep - is it a myth?

4.55 am. Yes you read correctly - 4.55 AM. That is the time that my sweet, darling daughter decided to wake up. I dragged myself out of bed with new purpose. I would nurse her in her own room and see could I get her back to bed. Usually waving the ol boobies around is enough to get her eyes rolling back in her head for sweet slumber. Unfortunately it was not the case this morning. No matter how long I rocked her, nursed her and rubbed her back, she just would not close those sparkling blue eyes. She even tried to put her foot in my mouth. I just can't fathom how someone so little can have so much energy. I let 'rad dad' (that's what he wants me to tell you we call him - correction what he has named himself) get up with her at 6 and take her downstairs for some 'daddy/daughter' time, while I had a nice lie in until 8. Gone are the days of my wild youth, where I partied until 4.55am. Now I gladly will go to bed at 10 if I can even keep my eyes open that late.