That’s The Number After Six!
February 10, 2006
In all my dental excitement this morning, I forgot to mention this monumental milestone.
Last night, for the first time in thirteen months and twenty nine days, Miles slept for more than three consecutive hours. Much more.
He fell asleep during The Office, which I can’t understand how he could fall asleep and miss that show, which was around 9:45pm and he did not wake up until 4:45. That is SEVEN HOURS. Seven hours all in a row.
Which means that I slept for four hours all in a row, which hasn’t happened since I was in my second trimester pregnant with him. I woke up so disoriented from all that REM sleep. And then I had trouble falling back asleep because I felt so well rested.
I’m sure it was just a fluke. He probably sensed that I just wrote about sleep and how I was okay with him waking up during the night, and now he is going to toy with me.
Which reminds me I don’t think I used the word “which” enough in this post either. I must make a note to myself which says use the word “which” whenever possible, shunning all other words which might work better. And start more sentences with the word “and”
Posted by Chris @ 6:01 pm
Dental Fun 2006
The time has come for my dental fun to begin anew in 2006. I hate going to the dentist, and for that hatred I paying dearly, literally.
Last year I found a new dentist, whom I love. I had gum surgery, multiple root canals, and even more crowns. At this point once I am dead and buried, my teeth will live many, many centuries beyond me.
Tomorrow I have a dental appointment to begin work on another quadrant of my mouth. You know it is bad when you have to divide the work into quadrants. And I was excited, sort-of, to begin the work so that I could be done with the dental extravaganza.
I feel the need to point out that I do have good dental hygiene, honest. I don’t have gnarled, brown, rotting teeth. In fact, they look quite nice thanks to spending my entire adolescence in braces. Rob is convinced that excessive tooth brushing and flossing are the cause of all my troubles. But the real cause of all my teeth problems are:
1) crappy dentists in the past who did crappy work,
2) fillings that were too large and over time caused my teeth to become weak
3) A love of hard candy which caused several of those brittle teeth to break. I will curse that little box of Halloween Nerds to my dying day, and
4) Being pregnant seven times and throwing up every several times a day, every single day for
months, YEARS on end
5) My hatred for dentists which made me not get the work done in a timely manner, and
6) Crappy genetics
So, tomorrow I was all set to go and begin new work. But, now one of the teeth I just had a root canal done on and capped last year, began hurting. Not throbbing blinding pain, just extremely sore. After it lasted for a couple of days I self prescribed some antibiotics, because I am a doctor.* It hasn’t helped any, and this morning I woke up with my jaw aching when I open my mouth, or repeatedly poke in front of my ear. At this point it is difficult to tell if it is sore from all the poking or hurts all on it’s own.
*no, not really I just play one on the internet
** I am so tired of all the spam comments. I want to go back and turn off all of the comments on the old posts, but who the hell has time for that.
Posted by Chris @ 8:28 am
The Sound Of Brain Matter Oozing Out
February 9, 2006
Did you hear that sound? It was the sound of my head being repeatedly bashed against the wall.
I am trying to take portraits of my children so that I can frame them for Rob. Do I need to explain further? Probably not, if you are a parent.
But I will. Thus far my 6 yr old has wanted to be photographed with his paper airplane and kept putting it in front of his face every time I pointed the camera at him. And I don’t know why my screaming doesn’t make for a lovely shot, really I don’t.
And my 11 yr old says that getting your picture taken is stupid.
When I asked how stupid being grounded was, he reconsidered.
Three down, four to go.
God help me.
Updated to add:
Okay all done. Is it really sad that the one year old was the most co-operative? And I had to take his photos while trying to prevent him from throwing himself off of the couch and on to the hard tile floor.
I got lots of photos like this:
Click on it to be brought to the set of them on flickr.
Posted by Chris @ 11:36 am
Sleep, Glorious Sleep
February 8, 2006
The topic Carmen and I chose for this Wednesday is sleep. How much, how often, and how the heck do you make the kids do it.
It’s one of the first things people ask you about when you have a baby, “Is he sleeping through the night?”, “How many naps does he take?” (My babies missed the memo that they are supposed to nap at all.) There are books upon books devoted to helping your child go to sleep, and there are zealots on all sides. People no longer ask me if my youngest sleeps through the night, I think that they probably assume he does at 13 months old. But he doesn’t. In fact he wakes up at least twice to nurse and cuddle.
Eventually he will sleep through the night without me. They all have.
I have just entered the previously uncharted territory of having children old enough to stay up at night as late as Rob and I do. Last night at 11:00pm I went into my 8 and 9 yr olds bedroom where they were wide awake playing a game. I jokingly asked them if they wanted to come tuck me and their father into bed. But really, it feels like it is coming to that. Gone are the days of having wild sex on the dining room table. Okay, there never were those days to begin with, but the possibility was there.
At 11:30, when Rob and I were still awake reading, we began to hear a loud thump thump thump noise. Rob went to investigate and they were practicing doing handstands against the wall.
Typical, I am afraid.
Sleep is one of the areas of parenting where I feel like I have slacked off over the years. My older children were great sleepers when they were little. We had elaborate bed time routines that involved lots of time, rituals, and bargaining. I just don’t have the time or the inclination for that any more. I used to brag about what wonderful sleepers my children were and silently take credit for it as an indication of my stellar parenting skills. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
Our bedtime routine now begins around 7:30ish when I begin telling people to go brush their teeth. My 5 and 6 yr old sons will brush their own teeth and then come to me for inspection. Sometimes they pass, sometimes they fail and must rebrush, sometimes I think they forgot where their teeth are located and I will brush for them. I send them upstairs to put their pajamas on and to come back down. Usually at this time I am finishing cleaning up the kitchen and the 1 and 2 yr olds are doing their best to tear every last item out of the cabinets that they can get their hands on.
My 8, 9, and 11 year olds take turns going to brush their teeth. Everyone likes to brush their teeth in one particular bathroom downstairs and it is considered a punishment worse than death to have to brush your teeth next to a sibling.
Then at 8:00 I announce that it is bedtime and everyone should get their act together and head upstairs. And here is when any semblance of routine falls apart.
I walk upstairs and go into my 5 and 6 yr olds bedroom. I tuck them, find their leap pads, books, leapsters, what ever else the need in their beds with them, turn on their nightlight. Sing twinkle twinkle little star and usually one other holiday appropriate song. I leave their room and say goodnight. I usually say “See you in the morning.” Which is funny because I’ll see them several times before then and eventually I will end up saying, “I don’t want to see you until the morning.”
I go into the bedrooms of my older children and usually talk with them for a few minutes, ask them what novels they are working on reading, briefly discuss plans for the next day, kiss them goodnight and leave the room. They will all come downstairs at various points during the night, mostly to talk with Rob or share some fascinating tidbit they just read. Last night at 10:00pm they were practicing their batting swings in the tv room with Rob, until I finally I yelled, “What the hell?!?” They will get into their pajamas on their own and turn off their lights when they are sleepy.
Bedtime at our house doesn’t mean you have to go to sleep, you should (mostly) be in your own bedroom and doing something quiet, preferably reading.
My youngest two children will go to sleep anytime between 8:30 and 10:00 depending on what kind of naps they took, or didn’t take, during the day. It honestly doesn’t bother me since we get to spend some time focused just on the two of them. Every few days, when I know that the two little ones will go to sleep early, I let one of the boys stay up late with me and play a game alone, just the two of us.
I feel like their lack of early bedtimes, the constant in and out of their beds, and not going to sleep right away, should bother me a lot more than it actually does. But like with everything else in this parenting gig, I feel like there are enough things that do bother me, to worry about the things that don’t. I have also discovered that the very things that make me bat shit crazy, don’t bother other people in the slightest and vice versa.
(Completely unrelated, when I did the blogger spell check it suggested the word beating in place of bedtime. Too funny)
Posted by Chris @ 8:44 am
I’m Very Afraid
February 7, 2006
You know how whenever you go to the grocery store you end up in the checkout behind some woman who is quibbling over the price of an item when it is rung up. She insists there is a sign she saw somewhere in the store that makes her item on sale, and yes she does want someone to go and find the sign thankyouverymuch.
When the woman turns around in line to look at you and mumble an apology, you refuse to make eye contact, because you are NOT on her side, you just want to hurry up and get out of the store, and why do you always get stuck in the slow line. Why?
So they send the bagger to go find the mysterious sign; he is not exactly a rocket scientist. And he comes back to the cash register, but can not remember exactly what the sign says after that l-o-n-g trek though the grocery store, so he has to go back and look at the sign again. And at this point you think you might have died a little.
And then the cashier is arguing with her over whether or not said item is on sale, and then they bring the store manager over to look at the item and the sign. And the store manager begins to quibble over the wording of the sign with the woman. And you use your laser beam eyes to burn a hole into the back of that woman’s head.
The store manager and the woman go back and forth, back and forth, and you wonder if the store manager is working on commission, because why the hell does he care so much. And when he finally agrees with the woman he acts like he is doing her a favor, instead of abiding by the sign that was hanging up.
And the entire time you are standing there trapped behind this woman in line, holding your tongue from blurting out, “Good Lord woman I’ll pay the 50 cent difference*, just get on with it!”
Well today, that annoying woman who holds up the entire line, was me.
For all those people who had their food go bad and their ice cream melt into puddles while this was taking place, I apologize.
*in my defense, it was a $10 difference on boneless chicken breast. $1o makes it worth it, no?
Posted by Chris @ 7:37 am
Always Read The Manual
February 6, 2006
Saturday I bought one of those baby seats that clips on to the table. I have grown tired of the baby walking around the house while eating, leaving a trail like Hansel behind him.
We threw away our highchair a few weeks ago in a fit of exasperation. I was ready to bring the high chair back in after a few days, but I discovered that anal retentive husband had wasted no time bringing it to the dump. It was the most poorly designed highchair and had so many nooks and crannies for food to get stuck in, that unless I cleaned it daily with a toothbrush it was disgusting. And I didn’t scrub it daily.
We had one of these clip on seats when my oldest son was a baby. It was a simple thing. Made of plastic and metal, which was easy to keep clean. It may not have been the most comfortable thing to sit in, not that I ever sat in it, but given the short attention span that babies have for remaining seated in a chair of any kind, I don’t think it matters much. Also, aren’t those big puffy diapers like wearing your own personal chair cushion?
Well, eleven years have changed things. This seat was so darn complicated, with it’s detachable fabric cushions, and harness straps.
You know how these things are, you have to be a rocket scientist to figure them out.
We were having so much trouble with the thing we finally resorted to reading the instruction manual.
And that’s when we found the solution to our problem.
Remove the baby before attempting to fold the chair! Damn, and here we were trying put him and the chair away together in the cabinet and take them out at the next meal time.
It’s already back in the box, waiting to be returned to the store. And yes, we took the baby out of the chair first.
Posted by Chris @ 7:10 am
February 5, 2006
This is probably the only thing that I like about having a double sink.
I kept trying to encourage him to make himself useful and wash the dishes while he was bathing, but it was to no avail. The only interest he had was in eating the old wet food or tossing the dishes on the ground. I completely understand the latter. Many days I feel like doing that rather than washing them also. Strangely I have never felt like doing the former.
Posted by Chris @ 11:25 am
For My Husband Who Is Away
February 3, 2006
on a business trip
eating in top notch restaurants, sleeping in 5 star hotels, having interesting conversations with people who don’t have stains on their clothing suffering endlessly because he misses me so
There are some appealing aspects to having a spouse who travels occasionally for business.
1) I can watch as much HGTV and Sex in the City reruns as my heart desires
2) I can eat as much fart-astic food as I desire without giving any consideration to another person and their olfactory system. Last night it was bean dip, yummy! Also, excuse me.
3) I can have the entire bed to myself (which is important because of #2 above)
4) I don’t have to clean up the kid’s toys that are strewn about the house, because it doesn’t bother me in the least. Nor does the “toy clutter” hamper my ability to relax on the couch and enjoy the aforementioned fart-astic food.
5) I can watch television and play with my laptop and not have to pretend to make conversation or feign interest in the weather forecast
But then there are the drawbacks:
1) I have to go around the house and lock all of the doors and then check them all again. And I have to remember when I go out that I have locked all the doors so that I remember to bring my key with me. Or else we will be locked out and I ‘ll be forced to walk around the house to find an unlocked window that I can hoist one of my smaller kids through.
2) Even though I have the entire bed to myself I can’t sleep and spend the night tossing and turning and the sheets feel cold.
3) The strange noises that I inevitably hear in the middle of the night, which convince my overactive imagination that someone has broken into my house and is going to murder me in my sleep. Therefore, I must sleep with the regular phone AND cell phone under my pillow. I’ve seen enough of those Law and order type shows to know the criminals always cut the land line, and so am prepared for this possibility.
4) Eventually I still do have to clean up the toys, because even I get tired of kicking a path.
5) How much fart-astic food can one person eat before they become offensive even to themselves?
6) I want to be the one to see Ted Danson eating out in a restaurant wearing some fake white hair on his head. Yes, my life is that uneventful that it is things like this of which I am am immensely jealous.
It might be a close toss up, but in the end, I much prefer him to be home to warm the bed, protect me from an untorrid death, and take out the trash. Even though it means
fighting over sharing the covers, cleaning up the house every day, and saying “Wow, that’s interesting!” when I really have no idea what he is talking about.
And really, isn’t that what marriage is all about?
Posted by Chris @ 7:17 pm
Me and Al Gore… We’re Like That
The results are in and I didn’t win the BoB. I guess it came out that I don’t really have stripper sized boobs and that it was all smoke and mirrors and crumpled up toilet paper. I’ll go pick the astro turf out of my braces now.
I met some great new people, like Grace and discovered some new (to me) blogs like Daring Young Mom, who has amazing super powers that I want to learn how to harness myself.
And above all congratulations to Lucinda.
But I have the Look At Me award over there on my sidebar, and that one means the most to me since it was created out of self deprecating humor, cynicism and friendship.
Oh, and my friend Jurgen Nation won for Best New Blog. With those umlauts, it was inevitable. Way to go, Stacy.
Posted by Chris @ 12:30 pm
Quote Of The Day
said by my nine year old son this morning:
“What kind of omlette can I make you this morning, Mom?”
He then went on to make custom ordered eggs for everyone. Now if I can just get one of them to fan me with palm fronds and and another to feed me grapes, I’d be all set.
And a manicure, that would be nice too.
Posted by Chris @ 9:58 am