When enough is enough is enough

I haven't posted for a while. Mostly because there's only so many times you can say 'still not sleeping'. But she's not. Every day her nightly sleeping patterns get worse, and worse, and worse. I'd say they couldn't get any worse, but I'm pretty sure she'd find a way, just to spite me.

I sent a text earlier saying 'I can't do this, I've had enough.' but what choice do I have? This is it until she changes. If she changes. What I wouldn't do to go out on the piss for a night. Have a full night's sleep. Go to the loo without juggling baby, pre-schooler and dog. Christ, even go to a full day of back-to-back meetings at work! I'm ashamed to admit I've fleetingly pondered returning to work early just so I can catch a break. It's relentless and I'm close to my wit's end which is crossing over into every other aspect of my life too. I'm >< close to deleting all my internet accounts, locking the door, and not moving for the next year.

If anyone says 'this too shall pass' I'm going tor each through your internet and rip your teeth out. Just so you know.

Operation Organise My Life

Today was the first day of a new regime in this household. Drawing from the chore list of a, um, infamous-in-certain-circles group of women I created a weekly job chart.

Why couldn't I just get on with it? Well, for starters I'm an obnoxious mix of OCD and pathological laziness. I get twitchy when things aren't right, but on the other hand I can't be arsed to move from the sofa. I figure that having a list (on a spreadsheet no less!) that I can cross off will keep me motivated. It should, theoretically, also mean that the basics get done so regularly that I also have time to spend on the not-so-basics. I don't think I'll list them, as my non-basics are probably at the top of your must do list!

Each item on the list has been designed to fit into no more than a 15-30 minute time frame, which is ideal for getting done between wiping bottoms, feeding babies and watching back episodes of The Bill.

To be perfectly honest, some of my jobs got left until my husband got home as I was indisposed between 10.30am and 3pm but as they're designed to be quick jobs, it was easy to whizz through them while he took the tribe to buy milkshake and tin foil (rock and roll!).

Tomorrow's list is slightly longer as Pixie is off at nursery for half a day so (theoretically) I should get more done. It's also bin night. If they don't come and get the plastics on Wednesday we're in trouble - were overrun!

Isn't It Meant To Get Easier?

Life is meant to get easier with a baby as they get older, according to the hordes of moms who have been there and done that.

Why is it in this household things are getting harder?

Probably the biggest cause of this is the fact Pops has stopped sleeping 12 hours a night with only one quick feed after about 10 hours, to waking every hour or two every night. I'm pretty sure you're meant to get more sleep as they get older rather than  less.

But, to be fair, the nightly wake ups don't impact on the washing that seems to multiply as soon as you look at it (where do people hang their washing to dry? It's ridiculous!); the kitchen that's less a bombsite and more an explosion in a shit factory; the piles of stuff everywhere... Where Pixie is now old enough to sit and watch TV (*clutches pearls*) on his own, or play at 'I'm Fireman Sam and I'm putting out fires!', Pops is very much like her brother was and doesn't like being left to her own devices, doesn't like toys and isn't very impressed if you try and play with her. All of which mean it's pretty difficult to pop off and get things done. More was done when she was tiny and in a sling! Also, since the multiple chicken pox fiasco, we've relied on her dummy far too much (as in - every minute she's awake, pretty much) which is causing its own problems.

Things need to change and we need to get back to where we were but at this moment in time I don't really know where to start.


This post brought to you by one stream of consciousness and 18 dummy replacements.

10 Things I Need To Learn From Blogging...

This blog post from Kathryn at London Bakes can teach all bloggers a thing or two.

"My shoulders have chicken ache"

Chicken pox has reared its pus-filled head for the fifth time in four weeks (over only three people). There's been some colourful swearing, I admit.

So, if anyone has any ideas on how to entertain a bored and pox-y 3 year old, and a bored and teeth-y 3 month old, speak now. But bear in mind we can't leave the house for supplies; to see anyone; or to play in the park as it's raining.

Not my child

Kindness

I realised today what one of Pix's biggest character strengths is: kindness. It doesn't seem much, does it? It's not a big word. But if it weren't for kindness, wouldn't life be so much harder?

Here's a selection of the heart-wrenching kindness he does:

• At a playdate this morning the owner of a toy till wanted to play with her toy all by herself. Fair enough, it's her toy! She got upset, as 3 year olds do, and before he was asked he was holding out the part that he was playing with so she could have it. No prompting at all, just did it.
• When Pops cries (which is pretty often at the moment, bloody teeth!) he runs to find her a dummy, or a toy, or the musical mobile - anything he thinks might stop her crying. How sweet is that? He also says "awwwwwwww, Pops, don't cry, be happy!" <3
• ...and on the subject of being happy, I had a chat with him about doing what mommy and daddy say because otherwise we'll be sad. I must have hammered it home the next time he didn't do what I asked because after we had words he asked me if I was happy. I told him that no, I was sad that he wasn't doing what I asked. He asked me if a kiss would make me happy, so I said yes but only if he also did what I was asking. Now whenever we have a clash of wills he says "don't be sad mommy, I give you kiss to be happy!" Little swine, how can you be cross with that? ;)
• When was of his little friends was crying over something hugely important to her toddler life, he went and gave her an awkward cuddle and encouraged her to forget her woes by going to play with him.

I really hope that this is something that grows and grows within him. That he'll always be kind and thoughtful. That he'll always try and diffuse someone else's upset, but do so without taking it on himself. I hope he's the boy that shares his toys, the teenager that stands up to playground bullies and the man that will never let an injustice go unchallenged. 

Just so she doesn't feel left out, I have to mention Pops. She's probably a little young to have strengths and weaknesses yet, but she really enjoys being pretend-dropped and being bounced on the bed. She positively cackles with laughter.

Chalk It Up To A Good Day

It's probably fair to say that our TV has done more parenting this last week or two than I have. Between the quadruple dose of chicken pox we've had (only Ed has escaped!) and various other ailments, we've barely left the house and when we have it's been either with incredibly grumpy children, or to wide open spaces where we can't infect anyone. And to be honest, those wide open spaces have usually been Tesco for essentials as I've not been up to braving the chilly playgrounds what with all the razor blades in my throat, hammers in my head, chainsaws in my stomach and rabid dogs gnawing at my shoulder.

*ahem*

I decided to take advantage of the brightening weather today so, after a brief sojourn to be fed lunch at my husband's office, and a monster nap from Pops courtesy of Ashton & Parsons teething powder, I took them into the front yard (why yes, we do live in the north!) with a tub of jumbo chalks from Tesco.

That's actually half a pirate outfit he's wearing. I'd never clash horizontal and vertical stripes.

To the right of the tub you can just about make out my amazing mermaid of awesomeness.

Ah hell, see a close up. See! Awesome.

After covering all available floor space we went inside and I read a counting book to Pixie, had a bath with them all, then nursed Pops to sleep. I think I did more active parenting in those few hours than I have in the last few weeks.