The Paci Fairy

If you're a regular on FaceBook, then you've already read my posts about the Paci Fairy's visit to our house. Since one of the purposes of this blog is for documentation, however, you're going to have to endure a full post with all the details. That way if/when we go through this with the next kid, I'll have a lovely and handy guide for The Perfect Way to Ditch the Paci. Ahem.

With advice from Supernanny, Jo Frost, we planted the idea of the Paci Fairy in The Boy's mind. (Prior to that, we made a paper chain with 20 rings that we used to count down the days until he would get rid of his pacis.) On THE DAY, he placed his pacis in a gift bag with a note to the Fairy, explaining that he was giving his pacis away to a baby who might need them. We placed the bag outside the house before his nap, and headed upstairs. He and I both cried a little bit as we sat in our living room, staring at the bag. What a brave boy.

He had his game face on all the way through the pre-nap routine, up until song time, when he cried and cried and cried. And cried and cried and cried and cried. He finally tired himself out on me, fell asleep, and I put him in his crib where he slept for a comparatively short time (one hour instead of his regular two). I attribute this to the assumption that he usually wakes up during his nap, finds his paci and settles back down to sleep. Without the paci, he's lost that skill or desire.

Day two: No nap. He played in his crib for a looooong time and cried for his paci.

Day three: Played in his crib until I went up and rocked him to sleep.

Day four: No nap. At all.

Day five: Enter the sticker chart. He earns one sticker per nap, and a trip to the movie theatre after 12.

He has now napped successfully for four consecutive days, but his naps are definitely shorter. Today's victory was that he put himself to sleep for the first time, without assistance. He stopped asking for his paci several days ago, which is a HUGE victory for us all.

What I have learned: I originally thought we were in the ideal window for getting rid of the paci, since he's old enough to actually understand the explanation for where it went and to take some ownership of the process. I now think that if we had done it sooner, he would better have learned how to soothe himself to sleep, thus his naps would still be long. Then again, it could have backfired. Our reason for wanting to get rid of it now is that a) there will soon be another baby in the house who may use pacis, and if he sees the baby using it for several more years, he might NEVER give it up, and b) we wanted to get rid of them before the transition to the Big Boy Bed. Those beds are HUGE, in comparison to a crib, so a "lost" paci is much more difficult to find.

Props for us: The one thing I absolutely think we did correctly was to wean him off paci usage gradually. As of less than one year (I wish I could remember, exactly), he was only allowed to use them in the car and for sleeping. Then we cut the car usage out, except for long trips where he would take a nap. The good thing about this approach is that we weren't constantly hunting down pacis all over the house, and he wasn't toting them all over town. Yay, us.


"Isn't this exciting." - Sheila, A Chorus Line

The Difference a Day Makes

If you read the last post, you know where my head has been. It's amazing, though, how helpful it is (to me) to simply put my feelings out there. First, in a blog post; later in a private conversation with my incredibly supportive husband. Technically, nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed.

Yesterday, as we spent the entire day together as a family, we were walking through the woods when I became overcome with excitement and joy that my son is going to be a big brother. I started to feel incomplete--as though the state of my family is in flux, and will be until this beautiful baby is born, because s/he belongs to us and is a part of us.

And it made me smile.

Living in Fear

Okay, that's a bit dramatic. I'm not LIVING in fear....I'm just residing in it for longer stints than I care to. And I suppose "fear" isn't exactly accurate, either. Trepidation, anxiety, precariousness. Y'all, I am quaking in my boots (that I am still wearing--thank you Midwestern "spring") about adding a baby to this house and to my life.

Part of me has forgotten too many details about raising a baby: weaning off the bottle, when/how to sleep train, breastfeeding details, how to assemble the stupid Baby Bjorn. Yeah, I know it doesn't matter, really, and I know it will come back to me or I will relearn it. But it's still a source of anxiety and I can't help it.

Part of me knows the reason for the stress is due to the presence of a strong-willed toddler in my house. A toddler that requires a specific act of discipline every 20-30 minutes; who's latest reaction to said discipline is to SCREAM BLOODY MURDER in my face; who is growing up faster than you can say "reform school." (That's a joke.) (I think.)

The thought of living through trying to enjoy the sleeplessness that comes with a newborn under these conditions is causing periods of hyperventilation and terror. And, here's the thing, one of the reasons I waited as long as I did to get pregnant again was that I wanted to be as "present" as possible for this pregnancy and the birth of a new baby. Because one never knows when one is pregnant for the last time, right? I am desperately trying to cling on to details of this pregnancy, and am flashing forward to the first three months of new life, which flew by faster than a Lear jet last time, bound and determined to get my head in the game and REMEMBER REMEMBER REMEMBER the newborn stage.

I'm terrified of waking up some morning next spring and realizing that my baby isn't a baby anymore, and that I missed it all because I was "tired" "crabby" "overwhelmed" "exhausted."

Oh, it feels better just to write this all out, honestly.

The good news is that I have recently started yoga again, after a three year hiatus. (The only yoga I've ever taken is prenatal.) I'm using a couple of videos and am thinking of joining a class on the weekends, and my body feels soooo goooooood when I'm done. I'm fairly certain that yoga contributed exactly nothing to my last birth experience, but I truly feel wonderfully peaceful when I've finished a session. And I can usually refrain from heading immediately to my pillow.

Speaking of. I'm off to the serenity of my basement, where I trade the inconvenience of hitting the ceiling during tree pose for the extra padding of the plush shag carpet (shut up).

Thanks for remaining loyal readers. :-)

2 1/2 Years

Weight: 33 1/2 lbs (75th)
Height: 36 in (50th)
HC: 19 1/4 (50th)


Dear Munchkin/Boy:

ARE WE DONE WITH TWO, YET?! ARE WE?! Just sayin'...

Okay, I've got that out of my system. I find age two to be a constant power struggle against itself. It's such an age of wonder, discovery, exploration, light-bulb moments. But then it's also an age of arguments, disobedience, back-talk, and regret (Mom's). And in traditional human fashion, I find that I spend more time recalling the tough times than good times. It's the reason why, even though this post has been in the works for months, I feel I should have more than just a few fun "lookey what my kid did/said!" tidbits to offer. This parenting thing is hard, yo, and I'm not ashamed to say it.

Here are some things that make me smile:

- You almost always say "please" when you ask for something. Even if it comes out, "I WANT MORE CRACKERS!!!!!!.....pweeze."

- You are a diligent cleaner-upper when prompted, and take pride in ensuring everything ends up in its rightful container.

- "Pack pack" = back pack

- "Piggy pack pack" = piggy back ride

- "We all done wis da wash cloth?" (You meant, "with the car wash")

- "Mommy, can you do me a favorite?" (favor)

- Daddy: "Am I your friend?" You: "No, you're Brad."

- "Okay, mommy, here's da situation."

- Trying so hard to make monkey cheeks (puffed up cheeks) in swimming class, only to end up making a fish face instead.

- Whenever anyone asks you if you think you're having a baby brother or sister, you always reply, "a baby sistah." (Perhaps we will learn about disappointment sooner than later? Time will tell.)

- You insist on telling the day's routine: "We gonna go to school, den we gonna eat lunch, den we gonna take a nap, den we gonna wake up!"

- Singing the lyrics to "Prince Ali" from Aladdin: "Pwince Ali, handsome is he, Ali A-Blah Blah." (It's supposed to be "Ali Ababwa.")

- Over pronouncing all your Ls, but skipping Rs and Ys. Yellow = "Lellow"

- You are the ultimate negotiator. All requests are met with, "Five minutes, mommy." And you hold up your five fingers, just in case I misunderstood. Or, "How bout...pway for two minutes, THEN take a nap."

- You're so proud of your new clock that changes colors to tell you when it's time to sleep and when it's okay to be awake. "Mommy! My cLLLock is LeLLow!" "My cLLLock is not blue!"


Here are a few pics from our recent trip back to the Kohl Children's Museum:
Pressing buttons to make the water jump

Grocery shopping. Atta boy!


Aaaand...cue the heart melt. It's moments like THIS (completely uninstructed as to how to hold that baby doll) that make me forget about the terrible two's....almost. :)

Love,
Mom

Christmas in February

Let's be honest: In January, don't you get tired of looking through everyone's photos of Christmas? Bet you won't be so tired of it in February! I totally planned it this way on purpose. No, really. I didn't completely forget to post them. I swear.

What the pictures don't show...

The lovely service we all attended as a family on Christmas Eve.
The photos of The Boy opening his Big Brother shirt in front of my family.
Our tasty Christmas dinner, of which the highlight was lazy cabbage rolls (who knew?).
The majority of the group sacked out on the couch watching "A Christmas Story."
Three of us escaping to the movies late at night to see "The Tourist."

Merry Christmas!
http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100640

A Fun Game of "Simon Says"

Remember this game? Feel free to play along.

Simon says, put your hands in the air!

Simon says, put your hands on your nose!

Simon says, put your hands on your belly!

Simon says, put your hands on the baby!

Simon says, "I'm gonna be a...

!!!"

(Due date: August 25)

"Disney Woolad!"

We had A BLAST on our Disney trip in mid-December. It was a little nutty to take a vacation in between Hanukkah and Christmas, but we did it. The slideshow (with captions) tells a fairly decent story. Happy viewing!

http://gallery.me.com/hannahrae#100625