So this is where I am...

* Let me preface this by saying that Jacob is a really, really good kid and we couldn't have picked a better one, but sometimes kids go through rough times when they hardly have any Daddy time because he's working 12 hours a day; and they are alone all day long with their tired moms, and they themselves are a little bit on the tired side...and this is where it leads.

----------------------------

Continuing from the last post, I'm in the place I knew would only be a matter of time. I've been wanting to get pregnant for the last few months. It's all I've been able to think about. It didn't happen like it was supposed to so I've had to mix all these mechanic functions in with the desire to have a baby, and for me it's just not meshing well. Motherhood has taught me that I am stronger than I thought I was, but likewise, it's shown me that I am not as strong as I thought I would have been in other areas. I can't deal with this 'not being pregnant'. It's taken hardly no time at all to be as worked up about it as a person can be. I knew if it didn't happen right away it would be a quick spiral downward from feeling 'ready'. I passed the Why not me? phase in under two months and I'm already at the Oh, that's why - I'm not suited for this conclusion.

I have a really deep faith, not in a particular religion, but in the Things Happen For a Reason School of Thought. If this isn't happening for me, I make the automatic conclusion that there must be a reason. Only the future will tell what the 'spiritual' reason could possibly be, but right now I'm getting the first inkling of a physical cause and it's reporting to me that I am too stressed out. I thought the kind of stress that prevents you from having a baby only happened in wartime or in truly life-threatening situations. So my body is telling me that I am so stressed out that I shouldn't be having a baby ? Well maybe I'd better start listening to it.

Other than the actual stress of not being pregnant, my number one stressor is my current child. Isn't that awful? I'm a horrible mother. That's one step away from saying to Jacob, "If you ever want to have a little sister you'd better behave, you little monster!" One problem that comes to mind is: What in the heck kind of stress-reduction technique am I going to use on myself that's going to get my kid to change the way he's acting?

He's having these terrible tantrums at every point in our day. They take say 15 minutes to work through, then another 15 minutes feeling so guilty about the way I handled the tantrum, and after all that is said and done, I've got to start back over at the beginning of what I was doing before that. I can't get ready to leave the house without running up and down the stairs 14 million times because God knows what he's doing or where he's going. I can't get him to sit still, can't get him to stay in one place long enough to even put on my mascara. The only thing I know of that can contain Jacob is his carseat. So what? I bring it in the house and strap him in it? The past couple days have been so insane that I can't tell whether that is a sane option or not. Again, I've lost all perspective. I should call my sister, she works for child protective services. I will ask her if that is something a normal parent or a child abuser is more likely to do.

The second problem about my level of stress is: If the child I have is causing this much difficulty, should I even be thinking about having another?

Fearless

Not ten minutes had gone by from when I finished that last post, and when Jacob did something so alarming which perfectly demonstrated his confidence and fearlessness. We were by ourselves at my mom's house, and I was getting a wireless signal out on the back deck (God love the new neighbors). I was finishing up the post and Jacob decided to open up the lock system we've got going that is supposed to keep the kids off the lower deck where the pool is. I saw him do it, and had just enough time to finish what I was writing before his clothes were stripped off and he was about ready to go in the pool. I stuck him in the tube with leg holes and settled down next to the pool.

A couple minutes later Jacob came out, took off his tube and informed me he wanted to try it without the tube. I rolled up my pants, tossed my legs over the edge and reached my hands out for Jacob, telling him he could only do that while holding onto me. I explained why and Jacob declined my offer by putting the tube back on and lowering himself back down the ladder. I returned to my sideways position, giving part of my attention to the thing in front of me I was reading. Some number of seconds later, less than I can count on one hand, I turned back around and Jacob was floating toward the middle of the pool bobbing up and down with his head and body completely submerged.

I'm pretty sure I turned around just because that's what I was doing every five seconds anyway, but part of me is scared that I might not have turned around in time, that the only reason I did is because those eyes (that only mothers have) in the back of my head told me to. I can't say for sure and I can't remember the next 10 minutes.

When I was recounting it to Zach later on he assured me that I am a responsible mother and I didn't do anything wrong. "I know that," I told him, "that's what scares me. I was doing everything I could do and something tragic still could have happened!" If a mother can't prevent bad things from happening when she's at her best, then what else do you have?

Monday was great, Tuesday was the same, Wednesday started to go downhill, and today has been wretched. He's been out of control. You would think that having quite a few great days in a row would fortify me; that I would have some reserves of tolerance built up, something to get me through on these bad days. It doesn't work that way though. I go from happy to miserable in one big step. I don't know if this is just my nature, if I am not cut out to be a mom, or if it's just the nature of motherhood in general. I used to always say that...that motherhood is like one long roller coaster ride. But lately though, it seems like this blog has become My Mental Health Blog. And my child has become a ticking time bomb.

He was so sweet the last couple weeks, the weeks we were implementing our new 'routine'. It is so hard to maintain that. It doesn't come naturally to me like it does for other people, and it takes all our energy to keep it going. I thought the definition of routine meant that it becomes like habit, it becomes easy, and all you have to do is abide by the fact that your routine is your religion. These past couple days Jacob's been crazy. He lets himself in and out of the house at will, thinks he makes the rules, smacks Mango around, RUNS AWAY FROM ME around the circle that we ourselves created when I am trying to talk to him. But then in an instant he is sweet and loving again. He's calling me honey and is at me with the kisses and caresses. I never know what to expect and I can't determine the cause. Maybe it should be the Family Mental Health Blog instead. I'm afraid it will come to that.

Dear Jacob: August 2007

8/4 You've been asking some deep questions lately. "Who put the sky together?" you asked while waving your hands around to indicate all of the sky. "How do they make things, like construction materulls an fans an stuff?" I tried to quench your curiosity but all I could come up with was a very juvenile answer and then told you to ask your father when he gets home. Just now, "Where does horseradish come from?" you asked Daddy. And then you lean in waiting for the answer, as if it holds the key to life. I get annoyed at those kids who ask a million questions and then run away half way through your explanation. Not you. You stick around for the end of it. It really makes a person feel as if they've used their breath for a worthy cause.

Motion is the one word I would have to use to describe you right now. You won't. Sit. Still. Ever. Always with the lets kicking around, arms flailing about. You wouldn't think to sit on the couch with your child, all snuggled in to read a book, or to lean down to kiss your sleeping angel could be considered a dangerous activity. But with you it is. We'll be on the couch all settled down and you decide there's something you forgot. Out goes the arm, elbow back right into my chest, or Daddy's groin, then you push off and a foot gets me somewhere else. Sometimes at night, when you're already asleep, I go to kiss you. Your limbs seem to know when I am coming, when my face is just close enough, and suddenly a hand goes up, slaps me in the face. Sometimes you get it just right and your nail scratches my eyeball. This is real fun. There is nothing like the sensation that you are going to lose your vision for the rest of your life.

Then there's the talking. It doesn't stop. Most of the time it's great. I guess when it is paired with the Touching is when it really gets on my nerves. After a long day of being around the same person and talking to them, doing things for them, well sometimes a mother's tolerance level is a little low. Sometimes she just wants to sit and be. Alone. And instead there's a little person, squirming, chattering on, and touching her. Sometimes all it takes is having a little person sitting behind her on the couch, and as he goes to move, his foot brushes her messy bun for the umpteenth time that day, and it's enough to send her head spinning around, frothing at the mouth with mean words spilling out of it.

8/5 Conversation skills have improved dramatically. This started on our trip. You are so shy and standoffish with your peers, but with adults you just want to tell them all the stories that are important to you but really have no relevance to the other people, and I am left explaining what it all means. I love that you are so eager to connect and share your experience of the world with other people. You are so like me in this way.

Along with the conversational nature of your being, goes the storytelling. You tell tall tales about what kind of work you and the 'team' are going to do, where the job is and what time you have to get up. The times of day that you come up with are starting to make sense. "I have to get up early tomorrow to go to a job, I have to be out of here at 6 o'clock morning." But just now as I am asking you to refresh my memory about what time you have to get up, and you're telling me that there are no jobs anymore, you canceled them. Okey dokey.

And with the storytelling, comes the packing. You like to pack bags. For everything. Just like I was when I was a kid. And just like I a still am. Back to you - you're moving out, Bob is building you a house, you have to pack up your stuff. You'll miss us when you move out, but you have to go. The week before that was the week the addition got 'completed' and you decided you were going to move your room down there. You pack your clothes for the trip to camp you want to take.

Right now we're having a chat about how you're moving out - you brought this up not knowing that I am writing about it at this moment, or do you know? That's another thing, you read my mind. This is something you have done for a while. So we're having this full-out, in-all-seriousness conversation about how you are moving out tomorrow. And I am totally into it, the conversation I mean, not the idea of you moving out. I love having conversations with you and humoring you. Sometimes I wonder if you are humoring me? Next you go over to Ginger and say your goodbyes in a really sad, high-pitched voice. The voices are something to behold. I love how into it you get when you're off in your own world. You do impersonations of people when you are relaying a story. It's such a riot.

8/29 Enough with Bob already. He has an opinion on everything. He has the answer to everything, and come to think of it, he' omnipotent too. Bob can do anything! Whether it's supervising you while I am away from the house, unclogging the drain, or building a village, he's your man. Basically you talk about Bob all day long. I've given up trying to deny his existence. I, too, have begun talk like he's real. It just makes things easier.

When you get into Bob mode, you suddenly become this pint-sized mass of bravado and it's rather endearing to see your confidence shining through like that. I worry a little that you might have a challenging go of it at times when you're older because you're a peanut; little, like me. But mostly I think it's cute, and I think you're cute. So it's fun to see that even though you're already a little man, you'll always be my little boy. Like just now on our walk when you spotted a car half a mile away and you practically jumped into my arms, or a few minutes after that when you were trying to be cool and suddenly jumped back and screamed because a bug had landed on you unexpectedly.

The questions are still coming at me non-stop, but they seem to be evolving at a rapid pace. During one of our long drives the other day Daddy showed us the farm where his grandfather grew up. We then talked about how his grandfather had died a long time ago, and that opened the door for the death questions. A couple weeks ago one of the dogs I have been pet-sitting for died. I waited a couple days for the right time to tell you because you are very fond of these dogs. You were sad, but worked out a story about how Bartie's soul and Maxi's soul were probably playing together in Heaven. I added the part about Bart helping Maxi out because Maxi is blind, but you've rather taken to that explanation. So when we were talking about Daddy's Pa, it reminded you of my father being in Heaven too. You told me that you think Daddy's grandfather and my father are in Heaven together playing with one another. I wouldn't mind if the line of questioning never evolves beyond where it is now because as a full-grown adult, that's the exact reality I'd like to believe.

Speaking of marshmallows...

...we were at it again yesterday:



The three of us went to Zach's mom and step-father's camp for the day, and Mango came with us too. Ginger is currently up at my family's camp getting some exercise, R&R, alone time, as well as plenty of attention. Rather than the 'family dog', they have both (Mango and Ginger) have become like the 'extended family dogs' and I am not complaining. My sister actually requested that Mango join them at camp, but my mom turned down my appeal for them to take both dogs so I sent them off with only Ginger.

Mango was supposed (or at least that was my plan) to go up with her 'Godfather' (Jamie) when he joined the rest of them today, but he ended up going a day early and we were still at the other camp, so Mango missed her boat, so to speak. My plan kind of back-fired because I thought well if I don't have my mom here to help out this week then at least she can take the dogs off my hands and it'll make my week a little easier. Now I've got an even more attention-hungry Mango on my hands. I actually feel kind of bad for her because the entire two weeks that she was up at my mom's, I at least let the two dogs visit and sniff each other every couple of days. It's gonna be Thursday before either Mango or I see our moms.

Anyway, I digress. The other camp I am talking about.

Mango didn't want to get her feet wet to
retrieve the ball.

But she almost went in for that duck!
Here she is skidding to a stop.

So we gave her a little help getting in.
She didn't really like that much, and
came right back out.

Then we had some beer. Here are the beer snobs,
below is the beer-snob beer.

We hung out by the water too, and later
on Jacob went in with Nana and Grandpa
Richard...that must have been after the
beer cuz boy was that water freezing!

Now here we are at home and the week is not bad so far. The end of last week was hard because I was feeling so overwhelmed, and sometimes it's difficult to navigate the way down from that kind of feeling. I get into such a mode of taking care of all the little things that never seem to end, and a person can't just turn that mode off. There has to be a clean break at some point. I guess that's what yesterday was. I rushed around all morning making preparations, and then we got to the lake it was lake there was nothing else I could do. I was in a place where I had no obligations, there was no housework to be done, no to-do list to work away at.

Jacob slept for a long time so I got to hang out by myself on the dock with nothing but my journal and a book of poetry. Not even my camera! Something shifted and when we got home I was so pleasant with Jacob. Even today, through each one of Jacob's fits (though there were few) I was calm and loving with him; that gentle parent I feared had left me is still in there somewhere! Before bed we did some fun crafts together and then he agreeably went upstairs. That was important because it was like a little test. The prior three nights we watched the Gilmore Girls at night and bedtime slowly got pushed back. Two nights in a row Jacob fell asleep on the couch with the TV on! That signaled to me that we were slipping. I've gotta crack the whip on our new routine again. So I'm hoping that's what this week will be...I'll ease through the week with this sleep-enabled, new perspective. Then when the weekend comes we're going back up to Camp and we'll be right on track to enjoy our few days there. I can do this...

My Response

Well I think I'll just go ahead and post my response here:

First off, I could go either way on the ring. I'm not really a jewelry person. I wear my wedding ring when I leave the house and that is about it. Meh. To borrow a phrase from you. I was just asking to be supportive, and while a picture would be nice, my life isn't depending on it.

As for the marshmallows, I burn them. Intentionally. I told Kevin that I start off with nice plans to slowly cook them, but then I get bored and stick 'em right in the flame. Either way, I like them cooked thoroughly. And if I were the kind of person who *eats*, then it would be right off the stick. I'm not a pansy like a certain someone.

Sugar is overused - BUT, second only to coffee, it is my lifeblood. So I have to agree with you on that one, maybe I'm more tolerant of things without sugar, but I won't deny anyone their rightful amount of sugar. Except for whipped cream on frozen coffee drinks.

Oh, and the barbecue issue...I call it a grill also. I'm not saying these things to be argumentative, perhaps I just don't belong in the northeast. Oh, and I finally figured out why I was so confused about the website-crossover-moment. Kevin and I had a very enlightening conversation the other day that peaked at, "Oh, that was her who referred to it as the 'Yankee way'!" So there it is. The lines have finally blurred enough that Kevin can't tell us apart.

I'll just leave you with this: Any thoughts on how people eat their corn on the cob?

The Irony of My Statement ~ The Biggest Spider in the History of God

I was just reading over what I wrote the other day...and something in the second-to-last paragraph jumped out at me. I was bitching about the over-consumption of Americans, specifically referring to a bumper sticker I saw making a powerful declaration on that subject, and then I went on to say that I wanted to 'get something' with that quote on it. Maybe it's just me, but I find that incredibly ironic. I couldn't even omit my desire for material possessions in a paragraph where I was complaining about the exact thing. And I didn't even realize it...that's how inherent it is in our culture - the American Dream, the desire for more stuff - there's practically no aspect of life where you can eliminate the consumption of resources.

New Topic: Today was one of those awful, awful days where every move you make just beats you further into the ground; the kind of day where eight consecutive red lights in traffic on the way to the house of one of your favorite people becomes the ultimate slap in the face which throws you off your already teetering rocker into a heaping mess of tears and all you can do is thank God that you have finally had enough life experience to at least know It Will Not Be Like This Forever, that someone will come along or something small will happen in just the right way, at just the right time to tilt your universe back to its proper axis, even if you don't know how the hell it got so bad to begin with.

I don't need to get into the details, but via photo diary I will recount the only part of my day I am willing to relive (although it was painful enough the first time).

Freaky...

Catch and release

Staying put, hovering over New Mexico

The Sunrise Pictures

I was so excited about these pictures that I didn't post them in with the other camp pictures...I wanted them to stand out. Anyway, this was the morning of our last day.

On being green

I remember when I was in fifth grade my eco-consciousness first came to the surface. I had a teacher, Mrs. VanAlstyne, who brought about this consciousness. My mom always says, "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." Ever since then I've taken strides beyond what the average person does to make our world a healthier place, not only for the human race, but also for all other species and the planet itself. In this last year I've felt like I've done more than ever to be Earth-friendly, and I have been wondering what it was that has made the difference. And suddenly I've realized it's because it has become trendy to be 'green'. This is a good thing, I guess, I just wish more people would care because they care and not just because it is in vogue. It makes me think that next year, when something else has become the 'it' thing, that the concern for our environment will go away.

I definitely consider myself more than 'light' green. I don't know what the specific parameters are for the measurements of green-ness, but even if my lifestyle is not totally reflective of a green lifestyle, my heart lays in the deep 'green' forest. It's more of a hunter, or moss. If money were of no concern, my eco impact would be zilch. I lust over hybrid cars, energy star appliances, solar panels, and hemp clothing. There are tons of things I do do, but unfortunately we live in the society we do and there is a balance you have to maintain to be able to function in the world we have created. I do what I can though...I do my part.

Here's an example of something I've noticed catching on in my immediate community:


Those Hannaford bags. I swear I was the first person to use them. Got one of each color I was so excited to see their debut! I bought them for friends and family too. Now all the stores are picking up on it. I've been BYOB for years now and it's a relief to not get the funny looks anymore, as if it is now a viable option to refuse the paper or plastic options at the checkout. It's really not a big issue. I just keep them in my car and when I go to a store, any store, I grab them and use them. I don't see why everyone isn't using them. They hold more, are stronger, and you save money at the checkout for having them. Did you know that?

Here are some statistics from the ideal bites site:

• Worldwide, over one million plastic bags are used EVERY MINUTE.
• In the US, about 12 million barrels of oil and 14 million trees go to producing plastic and paper bags each year.
• About 4 billion plastic bags end up as litter each year.

So here's a little video I thought I'd try to post (cuz I can generally figure that stuff out now). Er...maybe it is at the top of the post. Or not. I swear, it was there, but I messed it up somehow, and now youtube is experiencing problems. I'll try again later. Anywya, I've been getting these daily e-mails since last year and it's such a great way to implement small, do-able changes.

I saw this bumper sticker in Lake Placid over the weekend: "3% of the world's population consumes 50% of its resources and creates 60% of its waste." The point being that the over-consuming whores are us United States folks....it's something I've heard before, but I really want to get something with the quote on it. I've been scouring the internet and I can't come up with anything...if you know where I can look, point me in the right direction.

I have no trouble believing that though...in today's mail alone, Zach got a free Gilette Fusion razor with get this, 5 razor blades! What ever happened to, um, one? Always bigger, better and newer, right? I also got a mailing from the dealership where I got my van. Get this, they have a van that has two DVD players! I have to have that! When the kids aren't watching videos in the back, they can swivel around their seats and play cards with one another on the neat little table provided. There's also a multimedia infotainment (there's a new word) system. Whatever that is. Whatever happened to looking out the window? Also, we got free tickets to attend a dinner/conference where they will teach you how to become a millionaire by selling stuff on ebay. What the hell do I want to be a millionaire for? Money is not going to make me happy. Yes, I like clothes, and yes, it is nice that I can stay home with my child, and it would be nice if Zach could quit his job too. But both of us like to work for our money. I don't think many people can be happy if they haven't earned what they've got. And yes, I'm partly a hypocrite because I do like the internet and my camera technology. But c'mon. There has to be a point when enough is enough.

Camp Fun

Our friends, Steve, Danielle, and their kids, Bella and Winston

joined us up at Camp for some good northern fun.

The first thing we did upon arriving was prep the campfire
since all the half-pints could think of was marshmallows!

We actually got some dinner into them before
we headed out to the fire for s'mores...

And I actually got Jacob to hold still for a picture.

Then we did some boating...

And Mango found something fun to do.

Then, all tired out, everyone took naps...

Except for Jacob and I (the insomniacs). We picked
berries instead...

And saw this cool-looking guy.

Then we headed to the park, where kids
will be kids, and the adults played tennis...

And Jacob got to drive on the way home.

57 Hours...

...Is the amount of time I figure I spent away from the internet. Woohoo! I didn't even miss it. We were up at camp again for the weekend and although I did have my laptop with my, I only brought it to upload pictures, of which I did only once. Then when we got back last night, I did use the internet, but only to do one thing, and that was to upload the pictures to flickr. I didn't even check my e-mail. I didn't even want to. I think I'm getting better with the self-discipline.

Speaking of which, this is what self-discipline, along with 2.5mg of melatonin and a lavender massage get you:
Since we (I am taking it too) started the melatonin (last Thursday), Jacob has had a bedtime screaming fit one time, woke up screaming in pain only one time, and has now willingly gone to bed at a decent hour two nights in a row! Again, this is the part where I won't start talking about how good this feels, how it's almost like we're finally 'getting' this bedtime parenting thing. This is all good news, however, I have bad news for my mom: It was so kind of you to carry in the waterproof mattress cover and the sheets when they were done drying on the clothes line the other day, and then go on to make the bed all up for us while you were here taking care of the bunnies, but you wasted your time. Jacob soaked through his diapers again last night. The same mattress cover and sheets are in the washer right now.

Oh, and since we have the waterproof cover now, instead of the pee spreading downward into the mattress, it spreads outward, filling the cover itself with pee. And since I am there next to Jacob, the spreading pee eventually reaches me. I only realize this when Jacob wakes up at 3am saying, "I wet through!" and I wake to find that not only are his clothes soaked with pee, but so are mine. It just keeps getting better, doesn't it?

Later: What we did in the 57 hours and pictures of the 57 hours...

Two

If Harry Potter is the Master of Death, then I am the Master of Sleep. Non-sleep, that is. That is my parenting expertise. And they most certain way to bring about any given sleep issue, is to write about it, claiming that is hasn't happened. I'm trying to figure out how to get this rule to work toward my benefit. If you'll look to my last post, the last paragraph, you will see I wrote that Jacob has not peed the bed yet. Well that night, the second night of having the bed, Jacob did pee the bed. We have that nice waterproof cover, and let me tell you it has already earned it's keep! We changed Jacob's clothes, put a fresh diaper on him, and covered the spot with a doubled-over towel. And what do you know, we woke up a couple hours later...to more damn pee. I have to say that is the first time I think he's had a double-leak through (twice wetting the bed in one night).

The next morning (ie evening) I washed the nice waterproof cover, had it in the dryer for 3o minutes and it hardly did a thing. This was the first night I was going to give Jacob melatonin so I didn't have time to wait around for it to dry. I put it on the bed wet, and Jacob went to sleep. It took him a long time and he freaked out if I left the room, but he went to sleep without screaming in my face or flailing his limbs around. Here is the part where I will not write about how hopeful I am that the melatonin is going to be our God-send. Oh, and I didn't mention that I had doubled up with the diapers because of the night prior.

Next morning: No leak-through. Phew. I did not get cocky though and decide to skip the two diaper thing last night. I did put two diapers on him. And he still leaked through. All over his clothes, all over the bed, the down comforter because he kicks the covers off in the middle of the night and they end up under his butt where the pee leaks out. So here I am, three hours and twenty minutes from when I need to leave for camp, have not packed, nor done the laundry I need to do in order to pack - and now I've got two more loads of laundry to do.

Two is rapidly becoming my least favorite number.

This week so far...(ignorance is bliss)

I'm doing the pet-sitting thing again this week. This involves getting up at the ungodly hour of 7am, rolling out of bed, brewing some wicked strong coffee and driving 15 minutes down the road to hold the little dog over the toilet and squeeze the pee out of her. She's paralyzed so that's just what you've got to do. Most people appear as if their stomachs revolt a little when I detail the 'expressing' part. But to be honest, from the first time I had to do it, it hardly phased me. I am totally cut out for this pet-sitting thing!

Next I herd the bigger one out the back door, and lately I've just been picking him up and setting him out there as his eyesight is getting even worse (this is the blind one). He never makes it to the grass, so I go and fill up the watering can to wash away the urine, and while I'm at it I water the plants. This week I have been lucky because I have had no poop to clean up in the house, or puke (like in three different spots last week). It was never so had as when I actually stepped in the poop and didn't notice until I was on my way out the door to leave. Unfortunately, I had tracked it pretty much everywhere by then.

All in all though, it's a pretty good job. One of the ways I rationalize the long ass drive out and back three times a day is that I listen to books on tape. This week it is Harry Potter (the last book). I don't usually get to listen to it when Jacob is around because it's too scary for him. Hell, it's too scary for me. It was pretty scary last night when I was lying in bed - our new bed, by the way, it came yesterday - listening to CD #s 11 & 12. I laid awake for hours with an awful feeling from it. The awful feeling has been building though. Each week since we've been back in town, back in reality, something tragic has happened, which was deemed newsworthy enough to post on the home page of my e-mail. I don't watch the news. I don't let people tell me about the news. I don't like scary movies, or for people to even tell me about them. I am afraid of everything. And I was never like this before. I don't remember when this started, but I know it got infinitely and exponentially larger, this fear of mine, when Jacob was born. I also remember it taking hold of me during the time September 11th was playing out.

So I don't watch the news, but I do have an internet addiction and I just can't avoid that one big headline each day. It's always something awful and somehow it's always something that hits home. The first week we were back 200 people got stuck in the Gateway Arch (ok, this is not so terrible, but it was incredibly ironic that we had just been there 2 days prior). The next week was either the Bridge in Minnesota or the subway in NYC(?). I can't remember the order, I only remember the impact they have on my week and the rest of my life. I hate bridges. I have really bad anxiety about driving over them. It's only worsened now. I backed out of going to NYC with a friend in the spring because I realized I would be paralyzed with fear on the subway and simply couldn't deal with even thinking about going on a subway, let alone actually going on one. So then last week a subway floods or something. That is the extent of my knowledge about that, and please don't further inform me.

Two days ago my mom and Jamie asked me if I wanted to send Jacob along to a local fair with them the following day (which would have been yesterday). I thought about it for a minute and lied that our mattress was being delivered and Jacob would really want to be around to see that. They saw right through it. Jamie assured me that they would never let anything happen to him. "It's not you guys I don't trust, it's Jacob." I lied again. Although it is partially true that I believe Jacob might at any random time run in the middle of the road or choose to play a hiding game in the middle of a large crowd, what I was mostly thinking of was: What if there is a major world catastrophe? I want to be there with him, not away from him. The next morning, the day of the fair, I woke up and signed on my e-mail. Yup, two people died falling from an overturned ferris wheel car. I think that mothers have a sixth sense about their own children, about a being who was grown in their body; that they can protect their children better than anyone else in the world - and it's not a matter of wanting to protect them, or being careful enough.

In other news: Ginger got her stitches out today. Jacob hasn't peed the new bed yet, which is to say, one successful night. We've got a $70 waterproof cover on there now though. We're doing pretty good with our 'schedule'. Jacob fell asleep in the car last night, and it was the first time since last week when we visited the doctor about the Sleep that 30 minutes of screaming, crying and freaking out (by both me and Jacob) was not a part of our bedtime routine.

A Picture a Day: Ladyfinger

Little Buggers

I captured each of these guys just in the last couple weeks. Such detail they have! I really have to start saving up for a better lens...

The Lady in the Window

Stella's at the door just now...she's got $2 in her hand and is explaining that she intercepted our milk boy as he was coming to the door with our delivery. She wanted to get some buttermilk so she told the kid to put it on our bill.

The other day I heard her outside yelling, "Tracey! Tracey!" in a tone that sounded a little more desperate than usual. She'd been spying on us again. She was looking over our back fence, peeking through the chain link to see what was going on when a bee flew out of the hallow pipe that sticks in the ground. It stung her nosy little face square between the eyes!

In a panic and unable to see because her eyes were all watery, Stella stumbled into the house by my aid. I got her an ice pack and administered some Benadryl gel after a while. She was ever so grateful and kept referring to me as her 'little nurse'. Though she was back to joking around, I still had to really convince her that, no, it was ok, she need not make a trip to urgent care for a bee sting. And then I scolded her and told her I had no sympathy for her because she'd been up to her old ways. "That's what you get for spying, Stella!" I scolded.

We joked about it again the next day and all was back to normal, evidenced by the fact after she paid up the money for the buttermilk this morning, she started in about how great the elementary school around the corner is. I'm trying to remember...ah, yes...She was asking where Jacob was and Zach said he was in the backyard digging in the dirt. "He needs the dirt, doesn't he? But he'll be starting school in the fall." She said matter-of-factly. Right. I can totally see how she made the thought association from digging in the dirt to going to school. Because those two things are directly related.

"She is unbelievable," I told Zach as soon as he closed the door behind Stella. "She will not give up on the school thing. And it's not even like it's time for him to go. He wouldn't be starting for another year anyway!" But don't you just love how she plays the old lady angle each time? She pretends as if she's forgotten, lending more credit to her words of approval for the teachers there. Next time she raves about the teachers and how wonderful they are all, I'm going to say, "Oh yeah? Name one, old lady."

A Picture a Day: Sunset From the Hill

An Update

Real Quick.

~ Well we're back upstairs in the 'bed' - which is to say an air mattress that Zach picked up from his mom's last night. When we'll have the time or money to go out and buy a new bed, well, beats me.

~ I almost lost it today, or if you ask my mom (who was on the other end of the phone this morning), she'll say I did infact lose it. Hung up with her and used my last-resort option. I called the doctor's office. We got in this afternoon. I won't go into detail about how I clearly know more about restless leg syndrome than she does, or how we got into a heated philosophical 'discussion' about the ethics of giving your child Benadryl to sleep (she was for it, by the way, and for more than just a short-term solution). But the point is that it's pretty clear he has restless leg syndrome. Jacob fits the diagnosis criteria to a T.

~ I'm beginning to understand why I can't find much on the internet about co-sleeping past a certain age. It can't possibly be because I am the only one in the world sleeping with a child over the age of two, it must be because people know enough to not talk about it because they have been harassed about it by every person they know. I will not be ashamed out of this. This is what we want. This is healthy and normal. And I think I'll talk about it when I want instead of keeping it locked up like a secret because then maybe some other desperate, out-of-her-mind mother will stumble across my little blog one day and find salvation in the fact that there is at least one other American human out there who still shares sleep. And maybe someday, if I find a solution, I'll offer that up for her too.

~ We sat down as a family this evening and mapped out some new rules. We have it all planned out on paper. Getting that to translate to real life is a whole other story. I've always said that knowing the solution and being able to carry it out are completely different things. The truth of it is, is that when you are desperate is when you are most motivated for change. So you work on it for a couple weeks, but then things start to get a little better and you think, "Well what was the big deal anyway? We don't need this." So you ease up on the thing that was helping because you have forgotten so fast what it's like to be on the verge of going insane.

It's Just a Phase!

Last night I was at Bed, Bath & Beyond getting curtains with my mom. The woman behind us in line at the checkout informed me Jacob had to go to the bathroom. Thinking she meant he had spoken up and actually said those words out loud, I left my mom with the cart and began to escort him to the bathroom. I quickly realized what it was that made the woman think he had to go to the bathroom, but it was too late to turn back and make a quippy remark to her so we just kept heading in the direction of the bathroom. I don't know what I would have said to her but it would have been something along the lines of, "Yeah, thanks for your concern...it's just a phase."

When this happened last night and I decided I had to write about it, it was funny to me, but now, with less hours of sleep than fingers on my right hand, I have lost my sense of humor. Now I'm just annoyed. Why do complete strangers, on a daily basis, think it's their job to point out the bodily mannerism of my child, make a presumption about it, and then snicker to themselves, satisfied in their 'superiority' to us?

It's JUST A PHASE! Dammit. He doesn't have to pee. Is my child the only child who has ever done this?? For God's sake, get over it and stop making him feel like he's doing something wrong. OK, so I posted the link. Zach's going to kill me. Go ahead, you can laugh. I did. Just don't think you're doing me a favor by pointing it out next time you see us in public and Jacob decides to strike his favorite pose of the moment. And never, ever mention this to him when he is older.

Earlier today...

I sent this e-mail out to the moms' group this afternoon. These women are great. By the end of the e-mailing day a few hours later, eight people had written back.

"Hi Everyone, Before I put an ad in the paper in search of a full-body, child-sized straight jacket - maybe some of you can relate and share stories/advice, etc? I can't take the squirming! Jacob's body is never at rest! Even when he is sleeping, he is continually thrashing about. It takes him hours to fall asleep at night, rolling around, thumping, chattering, waving in the air..you name it, he does it. I've actually talked to his doctor before about restless leg syndrome (which I don't know a terrible amount about), and I think he might fit the bill. Anyway, if you have any advice, or you can just relate, send it my way! I use essential oils, so I've always got lavender oil on hand, we have a bedtime cd, I try to talk him through relaxation techniques - which I am no good at - I've used homeopathic stuff before...Just don't tell me to stop co-sleeping, that's the one bit of advice that's not an option for us. Oh, and I already have a million sleep books which I will never get around to finishing, but if you have actual mom-to-mom advice about certain relaxation techniques specifically for three year olds, or tapes, etc... THANKS! Stacey"

And that's the reality of our days. I can't remember how long it's been like this. I'm sure Jacob has always been like this, but for some reason now it's become the thing that is going to drive me over the edge. It literally is going to drive me over the edge. The sleep thing aside, the squirming is unreal. Be still child. For the love of God. Or your mother is going to go insane.

Sleep on the trip was out of control. There was absolutely no structure to any of the days, and I'm sure that must be the reason the sleep at home is crazy again. And I have no self-discipline to fix the problem. Zach has no self-discipline left either. He used to have more of that than you would think could exist in a person- how else can you explain the fact that for the first few years of our relationship he spent his days training for marathons, and then followed through with the actual participation in said marathons; several of them. Well I took care of that, I sapped it all out of him and cast it aside.

I digress. I can't remember my point anyway...oh yeah, the squirming. Everyone who responded wrote back about the sleep issue. I don't want to be negative and write back to everyone, "Thanks so much, we tried that though.." but we are hard core anti-sleepers here, there is nothing you can tell me that I haven't already eliminated as an option. I guess I didn't emphasize enough that it is not just the bedtime squirming. He moves all day long. Never at rest. I tried to sit with him in the afternoon yesterday and I couldn't even take his body in contact with mine for more than a minute because he wouldn't stop moving. And that's why I wrote the e-mail.

After I did get him to sleep, however, I was looking at his sweet, almost motionless parts and I wondered to myself what the big deal was. I told myself I had overreacted and sent that e-mail too quickly. And this is the thing, I always talk about how there is such an immediacy to motherhood. What is happening in the moment is all that matters and that that one moment you are living in seems to define your life. Then when the moment has passed, it is like it never happened. Is that a good generalization? I don't know anymore. I'm starting to think that maybe it is just my impulsive personality and that maybe I shouldn't be making that assumption about all mothers in my position. I think there has to be some truth to it though.

I remember reading an article a couple years back about the impending mothers' revolution and how it is so hard to get it going already because the facts are that when you are going through that phase of your life (with young children) is when you are the most motivated, but also the least equipped to leap into action and attend rallies, do the research, network, do what needs to be done to enact change. By the time your kids are older, or in school, and you're freed up to do those revolutionizing things, you've forgotten how difficult it is to be the mother of babies, you can't remember the specific struggles, the things your community is lacking that would make our world more child-friendly. You've lost your passion for it and you've moved on to other things like PTO bake sales and driving the kids back and forth to soccer practice.

I just don't know. Anyway, here's the picture I promised. By the way, the night is not over...stay tuned to find out what time Jacob actually kicked off tonight (or tomorrow morning).

No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

Yup. That's our bed. It's a waterbed which came from Zach's grandmother's house when she moved into a nursing home, as did most of our other furniture. That was about five years ago and it was probably 25 years old at that time. I noticed the bed was a little wet yesterday (in a way that's different from when Jacob wets it - which still happens two-three times a week, incase you were wondering). Then when I noticed it a lot more wet today, it hit me that it was leaking. As you can see it's a waterbed, with tubes of water in it. I guess it's time for a new bed. And we were just starting to brace ourselves for the impending cost of the new washer and dryer we're going to need, as they too came from Ma Betty's.

So we're downstairs on the couch, with Jacob's little bed on the floor next to it. Our new sleeping arrangements. I just took a picture but uploading it and posting it now is out of the question because guess what....I've got to get up early to go take care of some 'special needs' doggies. These are the dogs I was pet-sitting for back in June, which I never got to write about. They are Dachshunds, both 17 years old, one paralyzed, the other blind. The little one scoots across the floor to get places, and the other one walks just fine, only into walls and stuff.

Anyway, it's a good gig. I make three visits a day and Jacob comes with me half the time. He loves it. So this is right up my alley. I went ahead and e-mailed the moms' group I'm in to tell them to spread the word that I'm 'informally' pet-sitting. It's something I've done since I was a teenager, but never seeked out jobs. If I'm going to be homeschooling Jacob though, I've got to come up with some creative ways to contribute financially and I think this is a pretty good start.

Check back later for the cute picture of Jacob and Zach sleeping!