Struggling

A friend of mine said that it seems like it's not the BIG ordeals in life that depress a person but the small, every day minor things that pile up and become overwhelming.

Such is my life right now.

Life has been a series of infections/minor illnesses that, alone, would be no big deal, but they have come at me in rapid succession.  The painful cuticle infection in Oct/Nov, the armpit MRSA abscess in Dec, strep throat at the start of Jan, an upper respiratory virus now.

The continuous interrupted sleep by the boys, primarily G, has almost worn me to a nub. I've now decided to utilize his obsession with Disney Universe on the Xbox to try to get him to not wake me constantly.  Even if that works for him and he cuts back his night-time mommy need, I still have M who wakes me occasionally.  Whenever I complain about the past 5 years of crappy sleep, N will remind me that I got to sleep when D and I went away in November for our anniversary, as if 2 nights will make up for the past 1,825 nights.

Illness and lack of decent sleep, coupled with my burnout with stay-at-home motherhood for these 9 years and the general chaos that is being with G and M, is making my antidepressant feel less than effective.  My mood most mornings is terrible until around 8:30-9:00 when D and N are out of the house and the boys settle down or when G has been dropped off at preschool and I only have 1 other person besides me to wrangle/manage/talk to.

And then there was Gonzo's death last week which dealt me a harder blow than what I would have expected.  Finding him dead, wrapping him in blankets and carrying his rigid body to the car, delivering him to the pet crematorium...these thoughts have been in the forefront of my mind upon waking every morning.

The cold, the snow, the gray skies doesn't help.

When I am not feeling sad, I simply feel angry.  Angry at the constant demands on me.  Angry at the lack of acknowledgment for what I do.  Angry at myself for doing too much when often it is my attempt to have something for me (like exercising).

The coupling of sadness and anger is not a good sign.  It reminds me of when I got bad, really bad in 2004.  When I felt overwhelmed and tired, like everything was falling on my shoulders.

And I so don't want to go back there again. 

Sleep challenges throughout my life

My mom says I didn't sleep for the first 3 months of my life except when my dad would let me snuggle on his chest.  Fortunately, he was able to fall asleep in the recliner with me all warm and cozy on him.  Mom says that the first night I slept through the night, she and my dad both sat up in bed at the same time in the morning.  Mom asked, "Did you get up with her?," and Dad replied, "No, did you get up with her?"  Then they ran to my room because they knew I was dead.  Or at least that is how the story goes almost 40 years later.  

I guess I slept ok for some of my childhood, although I clearly remember the period of my life when the OCD started kicking in gear.  I remember checking the doors to ensure they were locked, checking windows, checking the basement, trying to push the anxiety of the night and the quiet away.  I remember when I could only sleep if I had the sheet pulled up over my ear.  I remember how I loved the attic fan because it made a terrible racket that I found quite soothing because it drowned out the silence of the house and the worry of my head.  

Eventually my sleep pattern settled down or the anxiety abated a bit and I slept well.

Since becoming a mom, my sleep has been shit.  I have been taking a half Unisom for years, every single night.  G still wakes me at least once a night, religiously.  The Unisom helps keep me drowsy enough that I can deal with him and fall back asleep.  Of course if I am experiencing stress, like the Girl Scout saga, my brain picks right back up as soon as it is awakened and I lay in bed for at least an hour just letting the ruminations do their thing.  I have stopped worrying about going back to sleep.....When will I fall back asleep? Will I ever fall back asleep?  

As I lay there, I have what amounts to a smallish panic attack.  My heart races, and I have trouble slowing down my breathing.  But I seem to have finally managed the anxiety of not sleeping.  I know that the panic will subside, and I will doze off again although it is entirely likely that soon after I fall back asleep someone will wake me again.  

When I feel especially run-down I take a whole Unisom.  Even though I sleep great, I am groggy and in a pretty terrible mood upon waking until I get 2 cups of coffee in me.  

I keep some prescription sleeping pills on stand-by mostly for when I have a bad cold.  I have found that if I take Unisom when I have a cold, it dries up my nose wonderfully but does nothing to help me fall  and stay asleep.  I guess the antihistamine is working so much on my sinus cavity it can't also do what it needs to for my brain.  

Eventually my children will stop waking me through the night and I will hopefully enjoy a few restful years before they begin dating and driving and I am back to sleeping poorly until I hear them come through the front door.

Today's profoundly grouchy mood

has been brought to you by the letter "G"

who woke me up around 4:15.  And then continued getting out of bed until I finally gave up and decided to lay with him and perhaps get a little nod of sleep.

And by the letter  "D" 

who woke me up while I was in G's bed, finally starting to doze a bit, to tell me M was crying (and then went back to our bed to sleep).

And by the letter "M"

who was crying for some unknown reason at the most inopportune time (and who doesn't often do this)

And again by the letter "G"

who came into M's room when I was trying to settle him down without nursing him.  The interruption wakened M even more, giving me no choice but to nurse him so he would settle and go back to sleep.

And AGAIN by the letter "G"

who continued opening M's bedroom door as I was nursing him and putting him back into bed, making me almost LEVITATE with EXTREME ANGER AS A RESULT OF BEING SO EFFIN TIRED.

And by the letter "D"

who somehow managed to stay in bed and may or may not have been sleeping but was still in his own bed and not dealing with 2 little boys at 5:30 in the morning.

So I was up, out of bed, in the family room at 5:40 or so, which is 20 minutes earlier than most early days around here, which makes me want to start unloading the dishwasher VERY LOUDLY right this instant to wake everyone else up in this house so it's not just me being exceptionally tired and pissy this morning.

And now G continues rambling at me, asking for Cheerios and his Singulair and all the other stuff he wants while I am in a foul frame of mind, even with coffee.

This is the stuff you don't think about when you see the plus sign on the pregnancy test.

A week of oddities

This has not been a great week.

Monday afternoon I was sitting at the computer when all of a sudden I felt sick.  It was like someone flipped a switch on me.  One second=fine.  The next second=yucky.  Within a couple hours, I could tell I had some kind of stomach bug.  I had no appetite but managed to fix dinner for D and the kids.  I went to bed early.

At some point during the night, I awoke to the sensation of every drop of water in my body rushing to my intestines in an effort to flush itself of the invading virus.  That is never a pleasant way to awaken out of a deep sleep.  I quickly got out of bed and began walking to the bathroom.  The next thing I heard was "THUD!," which is how my head sounds when it hits the floor.  I had passed out.  D came running over to me and helped me to the toilet.  I felt sweaty (as I do when my blood sugar plummets) and began stripping off my shirts.  Afterwards I just laid on the cool tile floor, with a ziplock bag of ice on the back of my head.  The remainder of the night was spent in our small dressing area right outside the bathroom.

Tuesday D stayed home just in case I passed out again.  Wednesday I felt better but still not good.  Thursday I felt well enough to run some errands, which included getting my allergy shot.

And then last night, as I was rocking G before putting him into bed, I began to feel vertigo, a sensation I haven't felt in over 10 years.  I have a history of vertigo that began after D and I returned from our honeymoon and didn't abate until quite awhile after I began taking allergy injections.  My right ear once again has a sensation that little elves spent the night shoving cotton balls into its deepest recesses.

Terrific.

So I will very soon be heading to the clinic to hopefully get a script for meclizine, which I used to have to carry around with me at all times for those vertiginous moments.  And to ensure my irrational mind that the passing out spell and vertigo aren't symptoms of a brain tumor.

Oh, and last night I was awake from 1-something until about 5-something with both the boys, who apparently planned for M to be awake for hours on end moaning and G to pop out of bed at least twice in an effort to completely undo me.

The fates are fucking with me this week.

Highlights (and lowlights) of the week

ONW (Operation Night Weaning) UPDATE:
It has been about a week since ONW began.  The first two nights M fussed a bit, but he quickly realized that 1.) Momma was not going to pick him up and nurse him, and 2.) he could survive Momma not picking him up and nursing him.  Last night he slept from 7:00(ish) until 7:30 this morning....without once needing me to help him settle.  And his daytime nap has gotten longer too.  I felt so well-rested today after last night's solid chunk of sleep I even hopped on the treadmill and took a mile in the afternoon.

BUT
that mile is not going to help when I have a super-fantabulous neighbor who 1.) offered to have N help her make cookies this afternoon while the boys napped so I could have some downtime and then 2.) sent N back some 3 hours later with 3 bags of cookies in hand.  What a Christmas gift!!!!!  HAC knows the upcoming 2 weeks of family togetherness may kill me, so having N home sick from school Monday and Tuesday, and then school being canceled today and tomorrow due to ice....well, that was just someone shitting on my cake as opposed to putting icing on it.  One day when my kids are older, I fully intend to do some kind of niceness for a mom with young kids like HAC does for me on a regular basis.  I told her she and her husband must live next door until M is 10.

THIS EFFIN ICE....
has ruined the psyching myself out that I had intended for today and tomorrow in preparation for the next two weeks.  And N was so bummed because with school canceled tomorrow so to is her class party.  Not a good way to start a vacation.
Mother Nature is kinda being a bitch right now.

BABIES...
the documentary was simply wonderful.  I watched it on Netflix and found myself appreciating M so very much.  Offering him extra kisses and snuggles in a vain attempt to slow down the process of him turning into a little boy.  It is truly amazing how a baby changes in a little over a year.

Report on Night 2 of Operation Night Weaning

M went to sleep a little before 8.  Woke up around 12:30.  Hugged/snuggled without picking him up.  Laid him back down.  Woke up around 3:30.  Same routine.  Woke up at 7:30 only because G marched into M's bedroom yelling, "Momma, where are you?"

Report on Night 1 of Operation Night Weaning (and other things M related)

It went surprisingly well.  I think I was up with M 3 times.  Each time I leaned down to hug him, snuggle a bit.  And then I laid him down saying, "Night, night."  I kept my hand on his back a few minutes until he settled.  There were no massive screaming fits because I never picked him up.

He slept around 3 hours between each waking until the 3:30 a.m. one.  After that he didn't wake again until 8:30.  Nearly 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep is a Christmas miracle in my book.

Some things that M is doing now....at 14 months:

* He finally brings me books to read to him.  He is pretty picky...I can't just pick up any old board book.  But he does like to sit in my lap and be read to.

*He knows that ducks say "Cack, cack," because every time he sees a duck--in a book, on tv, in real life-- he says, "Cack, cack."

*He says "Maow" for cat.
*He says "No" uber-clearly.  And uses it completely correctly.  Like when I'm trying to wipe food off his face.
*He says "Bow" for "Wow."
*He walks 90% of the time, so I guess he is officially a toddler.

Operation Night Weaning

N weaned from night-time nursing at 4 weeks of age.  She just started sleeping 8-12 hours a night, every night.  I didn't know how super effin easy I had it with her.
I can totally see why they say girls develop and mature so.much.faster. than boys.

I was able to wean G from night nursing at 10 months.  I was able to pick him up, hold him for a few minutes, he would settle down, and then go back to sleep.  He still woke up 2-3 times a night until he was 14 months old and had tubes put in (at which time he started sleeping 12 hours a night, every night).

And then there is turd.  I mean M.
At 14 months old, he has slept 2 times through the night.  And he still night nurses.  I had started letting him sleep in bed with us, thinking he just wanted to be close to me.  But he quickly realized he had an all-night open bar laying right next to him.

I am tired.  And I am tired of being tired.  So I am weaning him from night-time nursing.  He can suckle as much as he likes during the day, and he usually does 3-4 times.

But I have reached the point where nursing him at night and being woken up so much is making me resentful.  And I don't like that feeling.

Stupidly, I feel sorta like a bad mom.  Guilty.  Whatever.  And it is completely unjustified thinking.  I have given it way more than the ol' college try.  Fourteen months of night-time nursing is effing OUTSTANDING.  Some babies don't get fourteen nights of night-time nursing.  And I'm still happy to daytime nurse him until he is ready to wean.

I have decided it is time to partially reclaim my body, reclaim some semblance of rest.  Time to parent him to sleep, learn that he really can be comforted by someone other than mom and something other than my breast.

Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda.....Didn't

Everyone has their tipping point, the point where they think, "I have completely had enough.  I can't go on anymore."

If you're a mom, this point comes at least once a day.  Which means that, "I can't go on anymore" is pointless.  You have to go on, and so you do.  But sometimes you need to vent.

I don't want advice.  I don't want suggestions.

All I want is for someone to just say, "That really sucks ass, Carrie."

Today I vented the following to some lady friends:

*M is a crappy sleeper.  Has slept 2 times through the night (8+ hours) in 12 months.  And I think on those 2 particular nights my other two children woke me up, so I didn't even get to enjoy it.  And now he is waking at 6:00 a.m.  The crack of dawn would not be a problem if I hadn't gotten up with him twice between 11 - 5.  I KNOW why sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture.  I totally get it.

*It occurred to me this morning, after having been woken up at 6:00 a.m. and being in a piss poor mood, that I remember going off with girlfriends for a day of outlet shopping when N was about 2.  We were gone pretty much all day, from 9-6 or so.  And that is the longest amount of time I have been away from my children to do something fun.  I'm sorry but giving birth to another sibling doesn't count as fun. Nor does grocery shopping.

One mom mentioned that she used the book everyone hates......Babywise.
Another said she had to lock herself in her bathroom far away from her kid while he was screaming and screaming.
Another suggested I break out my breast pump.

And I know their intentions are good.
But they are pointless.

Because I cannot tolerate allowing M to scream and scream, and that is what he does.  If he does it at 7:00 p.m., he will do it at 4:00 a.m.  And if I'm going to have to be awake at 4:00 a.m., I'd prefer to nurse him and get him quickly back to sleep rather than lock myself in my bathroom to not have to endure his screaming (and then have to deal with cranky hubby who also had to listen to M scream, and possibly cranky G and N, who might awaken due to M's screaming.)

Because I hate pumping.  Because M will not take a bottle.  Twelve months of age is a little late to be introducing a bottle.  And the boy won't accept cow's milk as a substitute.  I'm continuing to offer it but he rejects it every time.

Because I only know of like 1 other lady who has 3 children the same or similar age and spacing as mine, who also breastfed and didn't have caboodles of opportunities to get away.  Otherwise we're comparing apples and oranges.  All moms have it hard, but unless you're situation is pretty darn close to mine, I'm not sure you totally get where I'm comin' from.  

I just want to vent.  I just want someone to reassure me that one day soon M will sleep better.  And I will sleep better.  And I won't end up pregnant one month after he starts sleeping through the night and then be all fatigued and pukey (which is what happened when G started sleeping better).

And I think that is the toughest part of this and why I am so flipping worn-out.....I didn't get a break between G and M.  I did pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding and rolled right into another pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding.

And anyone who knows me at all knows I have never been a fan of the 2-year or less spacing and never, ever would have done this to myself if I'd had any say in the matter.

But...as I said I just gotta roll on.

How a 5-year-old is like a newborn

N started sleeping through the night, 8-12 hour stretches, when she was a wee babe of 4 weeks old. What a "good" baby I had. Then she hit 6 months old, started cutting teeth, and those long stretches were a thing of the past for awhile. Eventually, she settled back into being a lengthy sleeper.

Then G came along. I can't remember when I finally stopped nursing him in the morning's small hours, but he didn't sleep through the night until he was 14 months old after ear tubes finally relieved the pressure and discomfort on his eardrums.

Ahhh, I thought. Maybe I will sleep well for a good, long stretch now.

Then I got pregnant, which resulted in good, deep sleep because my body was so busy growing a baby and placenta (still doing, but said baby is now big enough to shake, rattle and roll ole' mom awake). This was a very, very short-lived period of time.

Shortly after N turned 5, she started waking up through the night....on a really fucking regular basis, and by that I mean almost every stinking night.

It is now 6:33 a.m., and I have been awake since about 4:15 a.m. Here is how my day has gone so far:

4:15 a.m. --

N at my bedroom door: "Mommy, can you lay with me?"

Me: "I will tuck you in."

Lumber to N's bedroom, tuck her in. Back to my bed.

4:33 a.m. --

N at my bedroom door: "Mommy, I think I hear thunder."

Me: "That's not thunder; it's an airplane. Go back to bed."

4:45 a.m. --

N at my bedroom door: "Mommy, can you get paci for me?" (Yes, she is 5 and still uses a pacifier....good god, I'd never get any sleep if she didn't).

Lumber to N's bedroom, do a serious of gymnastics moves (not recommended for third trimester of pregnancy, especially in the near dark) to locate paci under the bed. Now totally awake.

5:20 a.m. --

N: "Mommy, I think I heard thunder again."

Me: Lumber out of bed to get her back into bed and explain how UPS planes begin flying packages at this time of the morning. At this point, she tells me she is "bored," and asks to read books. Smoke crack for all I care, just let me go back to sleep.

5:21 a.m. to present ---

Me laying in bed trying to get back to sleep but entirely too awake to do so. Plus, #3 has decided to do his/her morning exercise routine. Futility sucks.

At least with a newborn, you stick your nipple in his/her mouth and your body oozes oxytocin, the most wonderful sleep agent around, as your milk begins to flow.

I feel quite certain I will be napping today while N is at summer camp.

Fog

I hate days when I feel I'm in a fog. It is depressing.

Today's fog is a result of G teething and therefore being an even worse sleeper than he already is. I didn't think it was possible, but we are back to waking every 2-3 hours to either be awake and miserable or nurse in a futile attempt to make the gum pain ease. I feel confident I will sleep when he has cut all his baby teeth by age 2, so only 16 more months to go. Yah.

My brain is muddled.

N had her last day of preschool picnic at the park, so in addition to my brain being addled by fatigue, my arms are tired from holding Monstro Baby in one arm and pushing N on the swing with the other.

And there is this goddamn bumblebee who continues to fly around our deck and make it impossible for us to enjoy our deck furniture (which I normally would find only slightly irritating, but when I am this tired it just drives me fricking batty).

Maybe tomorrow will be better.