No Arm, Mama, Otay?

Ever since the first night YBaby realized that I was all she had as far as sleep companions go, she has insisted on sleeping with her head on my shoulder. That’s right, snuggled right up next to Mama with her sweet little head on my shoulder. It was lovely – especially since she spent the first two weeks I knew her refusing any kind of affection from me. So, like I said, it was lovely. For the first few weeks. Then my shoulder started to hurt in the mornings. And then on into the afternoons. Yeah, then pretty much all the time, but I couldn’t get her to go to sleep unless I had my arm wrapped around her and her head on my shoulder. At first, I even had to keep my arm wrapped around her little body, too. Later, just sleeping on my arm was enough. Every night. For 13 months. As her speech improved, she started asking me at night, “”Arm, Mama”. And I would wrap my arm around her and let her fall asleep on my shoulder.

The people who know about stuff like this (or like to pretend that they do) say it’s all about security. She doesn’t trust that I’ll be there in the morning, so she wants to hold on to me so I can’t sneak away. I can see that, especially since waking without me beside her brings on an instant melt down. In all the time I’ve known this child she has only once actually gotten out of bed by herself. Generally if I don’t wake her, she just cries until I come get her. I know, she’s spoiled.

So, here’s the thing. In the past week, Y has told me three different times, “No arm, Mama, otay?” – meaning that she wants to go to sleep without pinning my left arm to the bed. And she has. Gone to sleep that is. Without me holding her. Could it be that after 13 months she finally believes that I will still be around in the morning? Is she actually starting to trust me? Does my baby finally feel safe? I truly hope so. But still, in a way, I miss that little head resting on my shoulder, you know?

The Babies Unplugged

Today is the day we cut ourselves off from all forms of electronic entertainment – no television, no computer (at home, folks, I have to use one at work), no video games (like we actually have any to begin with), no DVDs. That’s it. We’ve pulled the plug. We’re going cold turkey. Well, sort of. Um, I’m still watching about 15 minutes of local news in the morning so I can catch the weather. In April it could be near 80 (like today) or cold and raining and the kids need a coat. So, I have to watch the weather. And a little bit of news, just so I know what’s going on in the world. But that’s it. Oh, and Survivor. Yeah, we’re making an exception during our week unplugged for Survivor because, um, it’s Survivor. Hello? We can’t miss it! James might get voted off!

But the internet? The internet is gone. I canceled it. Over and out. No more Mommy on the computer in the evenings. Not even after this week is over. See, Olivia told me that I spend all my time on the computer. Not true, of course, but it is her perception, and I don’t want her to remember her childhood with Mommy sitting at the computer all the time. So, bye-bye high-speed internet. Man, I’m going to miss you and that cute little way you have of taking me anywhere I want to go in the virtual world. Sigh.

So, instead of electronic entertainment, we are going to spend our week playing outside, doing crafts, reading, and playing games. Heaven help me. What am I supposed to do at 2 am when I wake up and can't go back to sleep? I have a feeling this may be a very, very long week.

YBaby Phrase of the Week

Because YBaby has some speech issues, I’m always paying attention to how long her sentences are and how many words I can actually understand. Yesterday when her aunt and uncle came to visit, she very clearly told her aunt, “Uncle Jon touched my head.” How proud are we of that? Yeah, mostly we just like to hear her say “Uncle Jon”. Dear aunt and uncle were also clearly impressed with Y’s ability to say “knuckles” while holding her little fist out for you to bump. (Doesn’t everyone teach their 2 year old to do this?)

But, the YBaby phrase of the week has to be: “I love you much.” She told me this for the first time yesterday (actually, “I a do mush”) and when I replied, “I love you very much, too” she was so proud of herself because I got it! I was proud because she thought of it all by herself. My girl loves me much. Does it get any better?

I Love the Smell of a Clean Dog in the Morning

Since the day Bella came to live with us, OBaby has wanted to give her a bath. Not because she smelled or anything, O just thought it would be fun to give a dog a bath. I, on the other hand, feel like it is enough that I manage to bathe regularly and get both girls into the tub on a semi-regular basis. I really wasn’t jazzed to add “give dog a bath” to my endless list of “To Do” items.

However, for the past few days, Bella has grown to smell, well, like a dog. So, we decided last night to bathe Bella. Let me tell you, even after more than a decade of dog ownership I had never tried to give a dog a bath. Marbles HATED water. Even the groomers said he was a tough dog to wash. So, I never tried to get his 50-pound body into the tub. I really expected that giving a dog a bath would be a horrible, messy, unpleasant experience. It wasn’t. Belle takes a bath like it’s something she does every day. She let me pick her up and put her in the water. She stood perfectly still while I washed her and the babies took turns rising her off by pouring cups of water over her. She didn’t even complain when YBaby’s cup of water inevitably ended up in her face – no matter how many times I said, “No, don’t pour the water in her eyes.” Apparently Y only heard “water in her eyes” and thought it was a good idea.

When she was all clean, Bella let me pick her up, wrap her in her towel, and dry her off. The only thing she nixed was the idea of a blow dry. I guess she prefers to air dry.

In the end we had a clean dog, a fairly clean bathroom, and two wonderfully happy girls who got to help Mama give the dog her bath. Of course now I expect that the next time the girls are in the tub, Bella will be jumping in with them. (Yes, she can jump into and out of the tub. That’s one of the reasons I was afraid to give her a bath – I could just see a wet, soapy dog jumping out of the tub and running through the house shaking soap and water onto everything. Hey, wait, maybe that’s not such a bad idea . . . )

Help Me!

You know the old joke about how you spend the first 2 years of a child’s life trying to get them to talk, then the next 16 trying to get them to shut up? Yeah, well, I taught Ying to say something that I am really starting to regret (and no, Mom, it’s not ARM PIT – nor is it a profanity). She had a habit of going into a different room, then crying because she wanted something. Well, a couple of time she was in another room crying because she had gotten herself into a situation that she couldn’t get out of. Unfortunately for her, I was so used to the crying because she couldn’t reach the rubber duck in the bottom of the tub or get the hall closet doors open that I didn’t respond quickly when she really needed me (like the time her fingers were stuck in the doggy door – hey, I told her not to put her hand in there!). So, I taught her to ask for help – specifically to say “HELP ME” when she is hurt or stuck and needs Mama to come help her. Stupid, stupid Mommy. We now have an average of 7 “help me” situations a day. I’ll be busy making dinner or throwing some laundry into the washer when I’ll hear “Mama, help me, help me”. Yeah, help me get some strawberry milk. Help me strap Blue Bear into the stroller. Help me take my pajamas off. Not one time has “help me” been used in an actual emergency type situation. She’s like that little boy crying wolf. Pretty soon I’m going to stop responding to the “help mes” – and you know as soon as I do she’ll get her hair caught in the dryer door. Some lifes, you just can’t win.

Shhhhhhh

Baby is sleeping. She fell asleep sitting on the bottom of the stairs a J's house. The girls covered her up before J saw her and snapped a picture (then moved her to a more comfortable napping spot).

When the Door Bell Rings at 4:30 in the Blessed AM!

You just know it can't be anything good. I mean, those Publisher's Clearinghouse guys hardly ever show up pre-dawn, right. So when my lovely door bell chimes gently woke me from my slumber at 4:28 am today, I really wasn’t excited to go see who it was. It was my neighbor. On his way to work. At 4:28 am. (It sounds as if his life sucks more than mine.) My garage door was open. Yeah, I forgot to close it last night. Hey, I had a migraine. I’m lucky I remembered to unbuckle the kids. Thanks a lot, buddy. I’ll get that door closed right away. Then go back to sleep – like normal people do at 4:30 in the blessed AM!

I got back in bed and had to move Ying over off of the 2.5 inches of mattress that they allow me to sleep on. Apparently, she was very, very tired and thought I was trying to wake her up. Her response: “Mama, more sleeps.”

Exactly what I need in my life. More sleeps.