Sleep training sucks. And works.

I have a weird relationship with the concept of sleep training. With each child I've started out completely opposed to the idea, and then reality gave a swift kick in the rear. It's essential, at least for my kids.

Liam had it the hardest, I think. On the one hand he was the best sleeper as an infant. He ended up sttn on his own at around 7 months. On the other hand, I had to sleep train him as a toddler when he started the bad habit of insisting I fall asleep with him nightly on his little, tiny, uncomfortable toddler bed.

Sleep training a toddler sucks balls. There was about a week there, where I'd put him to bed, read a story, kiss him...and then book it like hell out of his room to the hallway where I had a book waiting for me. I'd sit down on the floor with one hand on the doorknob and hang on for dear life. The sound of a toddler throwing the tantrum to end all tantrums was heartbreaking to hear.

I was young and was pretty much going by instinct. This method, while it feels crude and cruel now, was all I had. I had nothing else. But I told myself I'd never use CIO out again.

Along came Nicky. While Liam was easy as an infant, Nicky was stubborn. That kid hated to sleep from the get go. And eventually sleep training entered the picture again. This time I tried a modified version where I checked on him at intervals. That just pissed him off though, so I settled for peeking in his room to make sure he was safe. While the huge tantrums of the first few days tapered off, he continued to put up a token fight for months. None of this magical "3 days and they're good to go" crap I'd been hearing. We started when he was around 9 months and he was successfully sleeping through the night by 15 months. 3 days my ASS.

Now with my sweet little Josh. He'll fall asleep okay....sometimes. He'll sleep a good chunk of time....sometimes. He's not consistent and by the end of the day if he's not falling asleep I'm just about ready to lose it. He's very clingy, so clingy baby + daredevil toddler + lippy pre-teen = mom who's absolutely done by the end of the day.

As I sat on the phone with my mom the other night and was all but crying to her about how frustrated I am, she tried to comfort me by telling me that it's not the end of the world and he'd grow out of this stage. That's when it hit me. My child not sleeping IS the end of my world. When my whole world is my children, then the universe needs to give me a flipping break. Let them develop good sleeping habits so that I can continue to be the fun, patient mom that I need to be. The mom that I AM most of the day, until 8 o'clock hits and Josh is still awake.

So ya, all that to say...we've started sleep training for the 3rd and final time. Thank the good dear Lord.

Dirty feet and peanut butter.

I had the half-hearted intention of conducting an experiment. It involved mopping my floors every day for the week to see if that would get Jeff to stfu about my dirty feet.

I concluded after day 2 that it's just not a reasonable expectation.

Seriously, it would involve mopping ALL my floors daily. Bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bathroom, entire basement. Because I am all over the house throughout the day, outside too, and I never ever wear socks or shoes.

Call me Brittney Spears, but I'll never have clean feet. Jeff can just accept it.

In other news, after at least a year of trying, I have finally been successful in convincing Nicky that peanut butter is delicious.

We have a trick to get him to try new food. Hold whatever the food is on your finger in front of his face. Wait for him to start screaming because you're obviously trying to KILL him. Quickly stick finger with food on it inside his mouth and directly on the tongue. Pull finger out as fast as possible to avoid being bitten.

Now wait for the reaction.

Nine times out of ten he'll wipe his tongue while shrieking because AHH we're POISONING HIM. Every so often though, he'll shock us and actually like what we're trying to introduce. And that's what happened with the peanut butter today.

Plus it's funny as hell watching him freak out. I gotta get it on video.

Oh my.

Before I tell you a story about my very interesting trip to the park today, let me just get something out of the way. If I'm not on the ball about updating on my weight loss chances are it was not a good week.

I'm up 2 pounds.

I went a little overboard with the Mothers Day brunch that my father-in-law made for us. Lesson learned, turkey sausages are NOT good for a diet.

On to my park experience.

There's a lady that I see quite often at the park, at Liam's school, and I've even run into her at Safeway. She's one of those very social people and so we've become friendly, calling out hello to each other or chatting if we're both standing around with our kids. We've all got acquaintances like that. Park friends.

Well, she crossed the line from park-friend to over-sharer-friend today. I sat down at the picnic table and commented that her daughter was playing today and she's usually at school during the week. Hooo boy did I get an explanation I wasn't expecting.

She's leaving her husband of almost 20 years because he's been verbally, emotionally, and, occasionally, physically abusive to her. She decided to keep her daughter home because it's been a bit of a rough day. I then got a recap of this (really very nice) lady's life.

Dudes, this really tests one's social skills. I mean, what do you say?! So I listened, which is what I think she was really after. I offered my sympathy but she didn't seem sad at all, more focused.

And as she was leaving I said "have a great day!" I went red and tried to backtrack, and she laughed. Foot in mouth moment!

Oi!

It's All My Fault

So...we had a bit of a "situation" in the Panchuk household last night. It started Tuesday when I noticed that the dishwasher wasn't draining all the way. I spent my precious 30 minute break when both kids were napping at the same time with a turkey baster and coffee mug, sucking out the water from the bottom of the dishwasher. Fun. Try it.

Last night Jeff decided to take apart the dishwasher to clean the clogs. I knew, I JUST KNEW, that in the back of his head he's bitching away about how I'm not a dish-rinsing nazi like he is. That might have had something to do with how he kept calling me into the kitchen to see this long string of ___ (insert foodstuff) that he pulled out. Not very subtle, dear.

Here's my stand on the rinsing of dishes. I absolutely, whole-heartedly, 110% agree that dishes need to be rinsed before being placed in the dishwasher, IF they have obvious large clumps of food left on them. What they DON'T need is to be rinsed to within an inch of their lives, to the point where they're clean anyway and should actually just be dried off and put back in the cabinet. Because...WHAT'S THE POINT??? I purchased a damn dishwasher to clean my dishes for me, not to sit there and look pretty. And for those small crumbs of food that are left on the dishes, there is a mulching option in the drain for those, is there not? It's not like I'm stuffing potatoes and pancakes in there and expecting it to work perfectly forever.

(I actually could have written a whole lot more of that paragraph in caps. I practiced restraint.)

Anyway. Jeff got it all cleaned up and went to go screw on some part to some other part...and it snapped. Then he snapped. Then I snapped. Haha just kidding, I'm the voice of reason in this house. No, I put Nicky to bed and went and sat on the couch and nursed Josh while Jeff got it all out. And HOOOOOO boy did he get it all out. I'm pretty sure I heard some more blame coming my way, but not really my way, if you know what I mean. Lots of "if people just rinsed...." and "people think I'm nuts for rinsing...". Well, people DO rinse dishes.

People just forget sometimes to take the paper labels off of jars when they stick them in the dishwasher.

So okay, FINE, it's ALL MY FAULT.

Here's my punishment:

Bitch, whine, and complain.

Today, it seems like everyone is trying to outdo my bad mood. I woke up cranky and it's gone downhill from there.

Baby...alternating between crying and chewing on everything in sight. That one's easy, he's teething. But due to the DAMN Tylenol recall and the runaround trying to figure out if what I have on hand is good or not, he's got no relief coming his way. And neither do I.

Toddler...so spoiled from a weekend of sugar and attention, all he wants to do is go outside. It's a rainy damp mess out there and I'm not inclined to taking the baby out. Cue the alternating crying and writhing around on the floor.

Pre-teen...he's moody because I'm forcing him to participate in a round table discussion on the environment tonight so he's making sure I know he's not doing this willingly. He's actually the easiest to deal with because one threat of taking away his x-box and he's retreated to the basement until we have to head out.

Husband...he's overwhelmed at work right now with virus's and whatnot, and is just in a bad mood. He's used to me being his sounding board but...today...I can't be that person. Just get what needs to be done, done, and then soon enough it will be bedtime, we can all go to sleep, and hopefully tomorrow will be better.

This mama has reached her patience quota for the day. I need to breathe.

Oh ya, down to 130 pounds. Woo. Hoo.