Oh sleep, how I long for your sweet, sweet embrace!

My brother once told me that a person is not a true parent until they've had at least two children.  His theory is based on the idea that more than one child creates a lot more work.  I think the theory is a bit harsh and dismissive of  parents with an only child.  Despite my darling brother's ominous warning of impending chaos, Greg and I decided to go crazy and have one more baby.  We felt that E. deserved a sibling.  A playmate, or rather a side kick with whom to share toys and get into trouble.  So last October, we had another girl, A., who was born on my birthday.  Guess I was the first in the household to learn to share with the new arrival.  She is a sweet baby, although a bit of a mama's girl when in distress.  She is also exclusively breast fed, which differs from my eldest child, who proved difficult to breastfeed.

Here's the thing about breast feeding.  It takes effort to express milk and tends to be easier to directly feed the sweet bairn when it is the middle of the night.  In other words, I am now the sole parent getting up with A. at night.  With our first child, we took turns getting up for the feeds.  Now there is also, of course, the extra complication of having a toddler to deal with in the day.  I must say, the world looks different when seen through eyelids.  Caffeine, normally my best friend, isn't so great when passed into breast milk.  Sometimes that max of 300 mg caffeine per day taunts me.

This is not an attempt to get sympathy.  I realise that I am not the only woman in the world to procreate.  I am definitely not the only mother in the world who walks in a haze reminiscent of the undead..  Typically, now that A is nearly 5 months old, she sleeps a bit better....once asleep.  Unfortunately, to fall asleep in her crib independently is not part of her plans.  Recently, we tried controlled "crying it out" for 2 hours per night for a week.  This technique worked wonders for our eldest child who was trained in 2 days.  Sadly, A., normally a very happy baby, morphs into a screaming banshee when any attempt is made on this front.  So far, she does better with shushing and laying in the crib with my hand on her chest, which takes about 30 minutes.  Or 40 minutes.  Or an entire hour.

Fortunately, my oldest is reasonably independent and understanding.  In fact, today, she lent her baby sister her toy kitty to help achieve slumber.  Still, it makes for a busy day, running after a not-quite-toilet-trained  toddler while attempting to get the banshee to sleep.  Perhaps there is something in what my brother said.  Hmmm.

The troubles with potties....

When I became pregnant with my oldest daughter, my husband and I often reflected upon how we would approach parenthood.  In the evenings, I would sit with my feet up and read several different "expert" books explaining how to determine your child's temperament and how to approach things like sleep training, breast feeding, dealing with teething and so on.  But whenever I got to the section on potty training, I would skip that section thinking I would read that stuff when we got to that point.

Fianlly the time came when we thought our eldest should learn to use the potty.  She was about 18 months old.  We bought a couple of potties (one for each floor of our 2 story house).  We let one sit out in the living room for a few days so E. would get used to it.   I made up a chart for success's along with a bunch of stickers in addition to m and m's to use in a reward system.   Other moms told me that they managed it in a weekend.  "Oh we just let ----- run around in underwear or with nothing on", they told me.  The point was to allow the child who had been using a diaper to learn the sensation of urinating so they would know to go potty.  So we tried that.  Soon enough, there were accidents galore with me using a lot of vinegar to sanitise where the puddles were.  My child simply did not care at all that she was peeing all over the floor.  And absolutely no interest in the potty.  We would tell her it was time to use the thing and the response would be a very resounding and absolute "NO!  I don't like potty!"  Neither stickers nor chocolate were motivating.  So we let it go for a while.  A few weeks later, we tried again...same response.  Then again a couple weeks later. No progress.  Once, I said to E. "Time to go potty."  My sweet daughter then turned toward me and said in the coldest tone I have ever heard from her, "I don't want stickers."

What can I say?  She had the better of me.  For once she had control, and she knew it.  At this point I was 8 months pregnant with our second child.  I felt I just had to get her trained because there was no way I wanted 2 in diapers.  I also had fears of E. going down the isle in diapers on her wedding day.

Well, second baby came last October.  E. handled A.'s arrival fairly well with mild bouts of regression behavior.  Although she still isn't fully potty trained, she is further ahead than she was.  This thanks to maturity and decorating her potty with Dora stickers and the use of a "potty" piggy bank.  She'll pee in the potty for a penny, no problem.  But the other function?  Ah the elusive poo.  Perhaps if my child understood the value of money, a quarter or dollar coin might actually be the convincing motivator. 

I suppose that I will have to wait until E. understands our monetary system before our world is rid of poopy underwear and pull ups.  In the mean time, perhaps I can train my child to become a financial advisor.

Getting fit

So today I did level one of Jillian Micheal's "30 Day Shred" with my 2 year old's assistance.  "Go faster mommy, do that dance!"  I turned to look at my sweet child.  She had pulled up her shirt, midriff style and was holding 2 paper flowers as hand weights.  (The ladies on the DVD use hand weights and wear crop tops to show off their hard earned and slightly intimidating abs)  She shimmied around in what I can only describe as a "windmill gone loose" motion.
I should mention at this point that I also have a 3 month old who, miraculously, was asleep at the time.  I have great respect for the TV's toughest trainer but feel that in order to do the video, one must give away one's ass in order for the great Ms. Micheals to return it at the end of the work out.   "Move it mommy!", E. shouted as I continued to struggle with the abs segment.  Anyone who has had a baby, particularly via c-section, knows that getting that jello belly back to something resembling active muscle is quite a challenge.  " I like that dance lady !", shouted E.
We moved onto squats with front shoulder raises.  I had been incorrect in my assessment that carrying around a baby for the last three months would have resulted in strong arms.  During the push-ups, I thought I was in danger of kissing the floor at rapid speed.  Finally, the work out was over.  "Good job mommy!"
Inspiration really does come from the most wonderful places.