Month: June 2013

Two of Us

The life of us now

yannisms

The night is quiet.

The little man has been put to bed and should, we hope, stay asleep for a while. Other than the low hum of the air-conditioner and the aroma diffuser, the household has settled into a peaceful, gentle lull.

We sit on the bed, legs stretched out, each preoccupied. Him on his iPad, surfing for cycling accessories and me on my laptop, blogging. We say nothing. A tray of drinks – sometimes polka-dotted champagne flutes containing our favourite moscato, sometimes glasses of juice – and snacks sit between us. A bunch of grapes, perhaps, and some chips. Or a sliver of chocolate. Or little bowls of homemade yogurt topped with honey, flax seeds and chia seeds. Every once in a while, we’d reach out and grab a bite, or sip our drinks.

This is a companionable silence.

He looks over at me, at what I am doing, and laughs. He says we are both geeks. I tell him that I only became one after I met him. And it’s funny how we rubbed off on each other. I know about cars and rugby now. He enjoys shopping.

How utterly boring we are. 🙂

Motherhood

The funny side of night weaning

yannisms

Thanks everyone for the kind words and comments on the last post. And lest you think that I am currently swimming in a cesspool, don’t worry, I am fine. I suspect that I am what the great Moxie calls a “tension decreaser“, which is to say that I release tension by crying so that huge meltdown was truly what I needed. My child, on the other hand…

Anyway, night weaning has its ups and downs. The crying drains you of any resolve that you may have. The insistence of the little man wanting to nurse. His frustration at not getting what he wants. The late night histrionics.

Actually, the histrionics are the funny moments of this tedious process. I may or may not have birthed a drama king. Hardly surprising, given that I tend to be a little dramatic myself. Hah!

So last night was Night 6 (or is it 5? I honestly can’t remember!) and the boy slept from about 915pm to 330am. Which was great. And then he woke up, demanding a drink from the tap. Mr Thick went in to get him and 30 minutes later, he came back with the boy, muttered “I can’t get him to go back to sleep”, handed me the boy and dove straight back under the covers and started to snore in under 30 seconds.

Men.

And of course, the boy being the boy, he started signing for milk and I said, “All done.” He was having none of it and yelled a bit. That is the key difference – the yelling. While it used to be an all-out I DON’T GET IT, WHERE IS MY MILK sort of hysterics, this time, the yelling was more of URGHS WHY IS THIS WOMAN SO FRUSTRATING? JUST GIMME MY MILK.

We did this little dance for all of 90 minutes, with me distracting him in all sorts of ways: “Look, cars!”; “Oh, turtle and stars!” (thanks, Aunty Yi Lin); “More bread?” He would take the bait but he never wavered from his goal, which was to nurse. I ended up lying on my chest next to him and counting sheep, while he pulled his hair out, literally, in frustration.

It was quite hilarious, I was stifling my giggles at one point, because I realised that my laughter made him madder.

After a while, I was so bored of this routine and needed a more comfortable bed. I hauled him back to ours and sat him in the middle, while I rested against the wall, eyes closed. At times, there would be silence but the second I opened my eyes to take a peek, his wails would begin again. Ah hah! Attention seeker!

Finally, at 530am, he sort of gave a yell and collapsed onto my chest. I held my breath (not because of the haze, I assure you) for a while before stroking his hair gingerly.

HE WAS OUT.

Victory!

Well, until he woke up at 6-ish again and demanded milk. And since this was past the 6am window that I had set, I gladly let him nurse and fell asleep.

So this is Night 5. Or 6. I don’t know how long this process is going to take but I am hopeful that we are making progress, however tiny that might be. It’s tough, but I have to remind myself that the end goal is greater than whatever misery we are going through right now.

If you have night weaned or sleep trained before and have words of wisdom to spare, I’ll be more than appreciative!

Motherhood

Tough love

yannisms

I held my baby boy tonight and wept alongside him.

The tears, they flowed fast and freely, as I begged, BEGGED him to sleep so that I can finally get the rest that I so sorely needed and craved.

My voice cracked as I told him that I am done with this, that I am so done with this. I am barely functioning as a human being anymore, I explained between sobs, and I am not a good mommy because all I can think of is how tired I am and how much I needed coffee.

Nobody really understands sleep deprivation like a mother. And it’s hard to confide in others because nobody cares and all you get in response is “Oh you poor thing” or “Been there, done that” or “Enjoy this period while they still let you cuddle them”.

I do, really, I do. I try to inhale the baby scent of my little boy as he sleeps even as I am kept awake. And I feel guilty for not enjoying every moment. Because, hey, I tried for two freaking years, didn’t I? And I got what I wanted.

But I am not.
I am certainly not enjoying this extended period of night wakefulness, when I am everything that he needs to go back to sleep. I resent my husband because he gets to snore his way through the night and wake up thinking that the boy had slept well, when I am woken up three, four, five, eight times. I lose my patience with the little man because, COME ON, I JUST NURSED YOU, FOR GOD’S SAKES.

I had really hoped that night weaning and some sleep training would help. And that his joyful, sweet nature in the daytime would translate into an easier transition. But it is not to be.

The crying, oh the crying. I caved, because I am so tired. And I need to drive and work the next day. I caved, because I feel so alone in this battle and I am sinking.

And so tonight we both cried together, my baby and I.

Geek Girl, Health Goddess

I’m a Fitbit Flex-er

yannisms

One of my bad (or good, depends on how you see it) points is that I can be really, really competitive. Not just with others, but with myself. I know, it sounds strange but it’s really a case of me applying my legendary stubbornness to something and making 100% sure that I succeed. Even if nobody cares, because I care.

(That’s how I could go through seven IUIs and still bulldoze my way forward. Crazy.)

Anyway, Mr Thick snapped up two Fitbit Flex for us recently and almost immediately, I have found myself doing my best to match up to the goals that I had set. For instance, my target is to hit 8,000 steps a day. But but but…it is term break now and I am hardly on my feet these days.

This was why husband found his wife pacing round and round the living room last night, muttering to herself. He was all, what are you doing? and I was like, I need to hit 8,000 steps.

So the school has what we call FIT Day on Wednesdays, where we can take off at 5pm to exercise either on campus or around the nearby reservoir. I took a leisurely walk this evening at 5pm – the weather was nice and cool – and lo and behold! 8,000 steps! And more!

MUAHAHAHAHA.

Let’s see how long this obsession of mine lasts.

Oh, we have been extremely geeky these days. My tech-loving husband recently presented me with the Pebble watch. One of my favourite watchfacees is the hobbit one and I have to say, I really like living on hobbit time. After breakfast is second breakfast, and then there’s lunch, and right after lunch is a nap. BEST THING EVAR.

And yes, as Mr Thick said, my wrist is all Bluetooth-ed out. It IS very nice to have married a geek. Who cares about diamonds when I can have a Pebble?

Aidan

15 months of Aidan

yannisms

Dear Aidan,

Today, we celebrated 15 months of your existence by giving you a jab on your deliciously juicy thigh. It was pretty funny, actually. As the doctor injected the needle through your skin, your face crumpled and you wailed for about a second. That’s right, ONE SECOND. And immediately after, you gave the good doctor a WTF DUDE?! look before being distracted by the idea of seeing CAR! CAR! outside the window.

That sums up your personality, really.

Right now, you are at a delightful age where you babble incessantly. You’ve been babbling for a pretty long time now but the difference now is that your babbling actually makes sense sometimes. There’s “nana” and “car” and “ba (bus)” and “dada”. You understand us, or at least the tone of our voices, and you do follow instructions.

Like when we tell you to “Cover, please” after you lift up our shirts to poke at our belly buttons. Like when we say “keep” after you are done with your toys and books. Like when I tell you to “lie down” so I can nurse you (although, hilariously, you tend to lie down with your back facing me). Like when we say “u-turn please” when you go the wrong way.

You are one of the most joyful child I have ever seen, and you love being around people. You love being in wide, open spaces, and enjoy toddling around to explore. And those are beautiful moments, seeing you walk like a little drunken penguin in new places, shouting in happiness.

The feeling of immense love and deep content envelops me every single day. It’s like an invisible cloak that sits upon my shoulder, shielding me from the weariness and stress of our lives. No matter how tired or frustrated I am at the end of a work day, I instantly stand taller and feel better when I see you.

Motherhood is like having magic at my fingertips all the time.

And that makes me see that everything I had done during those two years of pain and anguish makes sense. It’s worth it. This is worth it. You are worth it.

My job as your mother is to ensure that as you grow up, your wings are not clipped and your sense of wonder at the world is not diluted. I want you to be forever joyful, and happy. I want you to be loving and respectful and thoughtful.

But right now? Don’t grow up too fast, my little man. Stay my baby for just a while longer, so that I can still hold you tight in my arms as you sleep and breathe in your sweet, sweaty scent. So that I can reach down and kiss you, and have you kiss me back right on the lips so willingly.

I love you to the moon and back, more than you will ever comprehend.

Love always,
mama

15M