After dealing with masses of snow that can't be navigated through by toddlers or conversion van, I have nothing left to give the world except this, the one thing that makes living through the hell of winter all worth while...

        

As I’ve written about for the past few weeks, we have been having a lot of issues with sleep in the past few months.  It has been pretty much expected that we are woken up by a screaming toddler at least once a night, leaving everyone, especially Mommy and Daddy, pretty cranky and stressed in the daytime. 

To deal with this issue we have brainstormed every possible solution from moving beds to flat out ignoring.  We have taken the advice of friends, parents and SuperNanny.  We have begged, pleaded and bribed the twins to just GO TO SLEEP, all too often ending up in anger and frustration.

My kids sleep has always been a major priority for me because I have seen the misbehavior that often comes from being tired.  I have always been a stickler for bedtime, often to the point of being mocked by others, many times skipping fun events in favor of sticking to their schedules. 

Not having this routine has been exceptionally hard, which is perhaps why I finally broke down and read Mary Sheedy Kurcinka’s book Sleepless in America.  This book has been suggested to me many times in my various ECFE classes, but I have always resisted.  I’m not the type of parent that enjoys reading instruction style parenting books and often find the masses of followers, such as the “Ferberized,” very cult-like and inflexible.

I have always preferred to follow my own instinct rather than a specific philosophy that may or may not work with my children’s personality and would therefore cause even more frustration.

This book was different.  At no point does she tell you what to do, but rather gives suggestions for what might work better, depending on your situation. 

What I gained from this reading was the validation that I am doing what is best for my children and that many, many people have issues with sleep.  I also got the “permission” to do what my children need to help them sleep, that it isn’t bad parenting to soothe them to sleep or, conversely, to insist on certain bedtime routines.

From reading this book I have calmed down my expectations, which has in turn calmed down my children.  From relieving my own frustration I am able to present a calmer transition to bedtime for them, which has led to better naps, better bedtimes, better mornings and, most importantly, a better household environment.

I think that there is a lot of pressure on parent to do the “right” thing, even though “right” is completely subjective.  Every family has to do what’s right for them. 

For us, it’s sleep. 

Everything else is secondary to that simply because nothing is fun without it.

 

 

        

Happy Birthday Momo and Jojo!

You are officially 2 today! Gone are the days of being a baby...you guys are bona fide toddlers now!

It has been a big year for you guys.  In the past 12 months you have gone from tentative walkers to runners. You have learned to climb everything that you can and take apart everything that you can"t.

You have eaten more food than should be humanly possible for people as small as you...but then you've pooed more than one could imagine too.  I guess it all works out!

You have fought each other over bread crumbs, vacuums, toys, power tools and more, often resulting in a bite to the face or back. You both often have multiple bite marks covering your body, much to your mommy's embarrassment and dismay. But you always make up and love each other after the brawl. In fact, you two think you're the funniest things in town.

You have survived Swine Flu, Stomach Flu, Whooping Cough, black eyes and stitches.

You have gone from full time grunters to part time grunters who say "Yesh" "No" "Mine" "Monkey" "Blankie" "Mommy" and all the other important words of life.

You became super totally awesome big brothers to Baby Macky. In fact, you're the official "NeNe" (nuk)  finders for him.

You have driven your Mommy close to the brink of insanity, but always bring her back by asking for a "hug, kish" and planting a big fat slobbery one right on her lips.

You are very special boys, my little Momesy and Jomesy and I'm very glad that you're mine!

Here's a special slide show of your year (or at least the months that I've stored on this computer   )  

        

It got to a balmy 20 some degrees outside in this lovely state of Minne-snow-ta today so I packed up the troops to go play outside.  Imagine my shock when we were able to stay out for more than 1.5 minutes—especially since our last adventure was marked with boogers, tears and more boogers!

The big kids went to work sliding down the mound of snow on the side of the driveway while the twins puttered around the garage growling at the lawn mower and inspecting the different cleaning supplies stored away until they moved on to their much missed bikes. 

                             

                      

                      
Since Baby Max was able to stay inside and snuggle Grandma, we were free to stay out for quite a while. As I sat back in my patio chair watching my children play, I was oddly content.  In these last few months of crazy behavior and cold weather I have been struggling to find the joy in the little moments that make having kids great, but today I was happy just watching them have fun. So, in the immortal words of Ice Cube, "today was a good day."

        

Just for the record, having a kid that has sleep issues is a total motivation sucker.

 

Take today as an example, while going through my normal daily activities I was mentally compiling a list of things that I would like to get done once the kids were in bed.  I was going to start working on our taxes, fold some laundry and finally sit down and organize some of the essay ideas that have been floating around in my head for weeks now.

 

In short, I was going to have some productive alone time where I wasn’t interrupted every 5 seconds. 

 

It was going to be marvelous. 

 

Instead (after almost 3 hours of bedtime coaxing) I am completely and utterly unmotivated to do anything but enjoy the silence while sitting in the world’s most uncomfortable position. I am currently in my bed with a baby and my laptop a balanced on my lap and a toddler sprawled out across my right leg, a leg which cannot be moved in fear of waking up my biggest sleep offender.

 

I’m really hoping that this is a phase that my little man will grow out of when he’s a little bigger.  There was a time between his horrendous 9 months of nightly colicky screaming and this newfound rebellion that he (and his twin partner) were good sleepers.  They would happily eat dinner, have a bath and make their way up to their cribs at 5:30 or 6 where we could leave them to entertain themselves until they fell asleep a short while later.

 

Now days they fight the slightest suggestion of bed, most nights spazzing so much that either Daddy or I have to play infant masseur/warden until they pass out.  Even then there is no sense of relief or freedom because Aiden is guaranteed to wake up confused and shrieking at least one time per night for about a ½ hour until he koala wraps/smothers the parent of his choosing.

 

I think that the main problem is that when you’re sleep deprived, or at least when I amJ, you start to lose perspective.  At this point I am convinced that they will stay this way forever, that I am going to have to follow them to college so that I can sing “If all the Morty’s loved little Georgey-porgey’s”  and play with their little piggies until they fall asleep. I cannot imagine sleeping an entire night or even having an easy night. 

 

I need to try to change my thinking and remember that this too shall pass and try to come up with solutions to get me through until it does. Eh, that sounds like a lot of work. Maybe I’ll start tomorrow…

 

        

I like blogs, I like coffee, I loooooove deals.  Today the three combined creating my chance to play along with Cheryl at Twinfatuation and Makes My Monday!

Since I had a bad day and can't think of much I enjoy about my children at this exact moment in time, here's the thing that i liked the most.  $1 coffee at Caribou!  There's nothing better than getting a deal

        

So, on this first day of the month that I dedicated myself to blogging the entirety of, I had a craptastic day and want nothing more to curl up in bed with my headache and baby and wallow in my own sweet, sweet self pity.  But instead I’m here writing to my adoring public…

 

“Why was today craptastic?” you may be wondering? 

 

Here’s a quick rundown:

 

By 8am I had already broken up about 30 fights that included such weapons as a high heel and baton from my twirling days (don’t’ ask).

 

It  then moved on to an all out attack on the tv with the aforementioned baton and a massive amount of mega blocks.

 

Seeing that I was clearly in enemy territory, I packed up the troops, dropped one combatant off at Bapa’s and took the rest to the gym.  When they were properly secured I attacked the elliptical until the point of exhaustion.

 

Having used all my personal ammo, I was unprepared for the orchestrated rebellion of my troops and therefore fell victim to the oldest trick of “noodle boy,” leaving me to drag a limp body out of the gym with one arm, balance a baby carrier on the other while tersely requesting that the other officer man up and stay in line.

 

From there we had some lunch and tried to regroup using some team building strategies, only to face another rebellion at the idea of picking up sister from school. Uniforms and shoes were chucked across the room and the soldiers had to manually dragged to the tank one by one and secured into their proper seats.

 

The long trip back to enemy territory (aka the basement at home…) allowed the troops to nap and regain their strength for the ensuing evening battles.

 

Which is where we are now.  Approximately 1.5 hours past bedtime, the troops are jumping on their bunks, laughing at how they felled the General.

 

So that, my friends, is why today was craptastic (and I didn’t even mention the part about the poo in the tub…).

 

        

For someone who takes great joy in thinking things through in a practical and careful matter, it is shocking to me that I can sometimes be so very stupid and impulsive.  During times of great boredom, anxiety or sheer frustration, I often come up with these absolutely brilliant ideas that end up biting me in the booty in reality.

 

It usually goes a little something like this:

 

Hmmm. Things sure are quiet around here with the boys all sick.  What to do, what to do…

 

(casually look around)

 

Well, maybe I’ll read a book while the boys are occupied with Spongebob.

 

(walk upstairs to get book)

 

Oh look there’s my bed.  Hey! I’ve got a great idea! Why don’t I move this big old queen size bed down two flights of stairs all by myself? Brilliant!

 

(proceed to take apart bed, the noise of which attracts the boys who insist on climbing all over disassembled parts to “help”)

 

Ten minutes pass along with some blood sweat and tears, and the bed is finally downstairs. 

 

(stop to look around in pride and call my little sidekick Kyan down to see the results of my labor.)

 

In comes Buddy.  He takes one look around and looks up at me with his big brown eyes full of tears and says, “This makes me so sad, I love having your bed upstairs. Why don’t you want to sleep by me anymore Mommy?”

 

At this my heart breaks a little bit and before you can say, “Oh my God, what a SUCKER!” I disassemble the bed again and drag it back upstairs.

 

So, what lesson did I learn from this ridiculously wasted afternoon?  Did I learn that I should think long and hard before moving furniture and to wait until I get help to complete these tasks?

 

Nope.

 

I simply learned that it takes a lot more swearing to get the mattress back up the stairs than it did to take it down. And that, my friends was a lesson worth learning.

        

 

Since I am once again stuck nuturing my sick children, I do not have the time or brain power for a new and delightfully witty post, so here is an oldie but goody from last year that was run on Startribune.com/cribsheet...enjoy! 

 

My children are beautiful intelligent creatures who I love with a scary intensity that was previously reserved for Chinese food and donuts, but, this winter at least, I am not finding them enjoyable. At two, five and one, my kids are equally adorable and much, much smarter than me.  I believe that during these winter months they have huddled together, conspiring on how to drive mommy crazy the fastest, oftsucceeding beyond their wildest imaginations.

“I know,” five year old Brooklyn, aka the ringleader, whispers. “Alex and Aiden, you two learn how to walk and scream ‘DaaDaaa’ all day.  Kyan, you color all over everything and get up all night. I’ll just spaz all the time.”

“Daaa Daaa!!!” the babies screech in agreement, as Kyan giggles,

“Hee,hee,hee, Ok, Sister. I don’t wanna go to bed!”

This blatant touting of intelligence along with the constant fighting, crying, whining and complaining is making me want to buy a non refundable ticket to somewhere exotic where my new lover Guido and I will live a peaceful existence in our mess free villa that is decorated in various shades of cream and white.  I will live a life of glamour and sophistication where I will never see another box of mac and cheese, will never hear the incessant whine of “Mama, mama, mama….look at me!” and will lounge luxuriously in bed until I am no longer fatigued.  I will revel in this life and the sheer happiness that the free life brings me for about 10 minutes when I will then start missing my kids.

I credit this rich fantasy life to the insanity of a Minnesota winter, for, when the weather is nice, my fantasies are much duller.  When the weather is nice, we spend most of the day outside exploring the creek, riding bikes, playing and swimming—not sitting in a basement staring each other for 12 hours at a stretch.  

During the warm months, I look forward to our days where I can watch my brood explore and play, with glorious sun glistening off their golden blonde locks.  I love cleaning the sand off of their chubby feet; I love the tan lines that cover their little booties, regardless of the amount of sunblock I apply. I love simply being with them.

During the winter I wake up counting the hours until bedtime because there is nothing to do but sit.  Up until this winter, I made an effort to get out of the house every day.  I was the master of indoor playgrounds, free days at museums, lunches out and mall trips.  As a threesome, and even in the early days of the ‘fivesome’, (there aren’t even any graceful words for it), we were out every day, trying to avoid and suppress the special brand of crazy that I knew lurked within me. 

Now, most likely since I can’t go anywhere without seeking and putting on four coats, eight shoes, four hats, a pair of pants deemed acceptable for Kyan to wear over his shorts (don’t ask), four hats and then lugging four kids out to be buckled into their respective car seats, only to do it in reverse when we get somewhere, I don’t go anywhere.  Since  we don’t go anywhere, we have a lot of time on our hands. And what do we do with this time? The kids tear the house apart, fight over everything from toilet paper to dust bunnies and generally annoy me.  And me? I obsess about not being able to go anywhere and succumb to my crazy, passing the days by creating rich fantasy lives of the Guido loving me, the powerful career person me, the childless me, the person I would be if…

The problem with this brand of crazy is that my kids aren’t going anywhere, and I would miss them if they did.  Savvy conspirators that the are, they  always seem to sense when I am searching out their receipts to facilitate an easier return, for these are the times where they attack me with their own special brands of hugs and kisses.  Kyan, built like a line backer, favors a bear hug with a shift that causes his arms to smash straight down between us, while Brooklyn goes more for the monkey wrap, both arms and legs securely wrapped around my neck and waist.  The babies simply look at me wish big blue eyes and gummy smiles and say, “Da Daaa.”  (only I know they mean Mama…).

These hugs are usually enough to erase the craziness of moments past, but in the rare times when the zaniness was of a higher order, they always know to throw in a “You’re the bestest mommy ever.” Combined with a little hair stroking and it is usually enough to erase any transgressions that may have just occurred, almost always bringing me back from my imaginings.

During the times it’s not enough, I make sure to take a mental note to send them a post card, assuring them that I will be back once spring comes.

 

        

In an effort to combat my tendency towards being a Negative Nelly, I have decided to take a moment and reflect on the parts of parenting that I really, truly love.  It’s all too easy to forget about the fun, snuggly moments when the coffee is being flung across the kitchen (again…), but along with the challenges kids can bring complete innocence and joy.

 

I love the way that all of my kids curl up next to me and squish their feet into my back or belly, exactly the way they did as newborns.

 

I love the way that they snuggle by each other when they think that no ones looking. 

 

I love the way they ask when their sibling is coming home over and over, even though they claim to hate them.

 

I love their cute little butts and the way they run to the bathtub and do a booty shaking dance.

 

I love that they truly think they’re awesome at everything they do.

 

I love it when they comfort each other.

 

I love how they want nothing more than to sit home and hang out with me.

 

I love their flair for the dramatic.

 

I love how the twins carry armfuls of blankets as big as them with they wherever they go.

 

So there you have it.  This is my first attempt at “living in the moment.” I am going to try to enjoy the precious things that my kids do before they grow up and never do them anymore.  I hope to try to remember the gushy moments when I feel like my brain is about to explode and I hope to remember that there are way more good times than bad.