Weasel Of Doom

Squeeker is being a pain in the butt all day today. *sigh* Not a lot of things I can do while holding a baby on my lap all the time. I am sure I will miss these days when he is older and wants nothing to do with me, but right now I just want to scream. Perhaps I should make a new category, titled “What was I thinking??????”

[edited around 1 am on Monday] To add insult to injury… I have been complaining about Squeek not sleeping for long periods at night anymore. Well, guess who has been clonked out in his car seat for 5 hours now. Also, guess who has not gone to bed yet because she keeps expecting her baby to wake up and want to nurse? Any guesses as to who is going to be more miserable in the morning?

[added around 1:30 am] Yay, the pity party is over. I moved Squeeker to the crib, and convinced him to nurse a little. Hopefully, he will sleep for a few hours. He has an annoying cold, so I can’t really blame him for being difficult. I tried using the snot-sucker on him, but the evil snot is hiding out of reach. Every once in a while, especially at night, Squeekie would start coughing up a lung (though according to the pediatrician his lungs are clear, and a cold is all he has), and that gotta be frustrating.

For me, I think the most annoying/frustrating part is that when these breaks in routine happen (i.e., Squeek sleeping through a feeding, or taking a long nap), I rarely manage to get anything done, because I keep waiting for whatever it is should come next. I should have pumped soon after BelovedSpouse got home with DemonChild, and instead I kept waiting for Squeeker to wake up. I should pump now, since he did not nurse all that well, but it is after 1:30 and I still need to shower (which I should have done earlier, but see above about waiting for Squeek to wake up). All this is totally self-inflicted. I should stick to my schedule instead of sitting around waiting – I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? Should Squeeker wake up hungry right after I pumped, I can always give him a bottle. Of course, for some reason things like that only occur to me after I screwed up. Where is a time machine when you need one?

[final additing, 3 am on Monday] Since my chance for a good night’s sleep went to hell in a (self-made) handbasket anyway, I went ahead and pumped before I showered. Got 3.5 oz. That is not going to win me a medal in the Pumping Mothers Olympics, let me tell you. Because Squeeky has a cold, he is not nursing as well as he normally does. And because I was in training for 4 days last week, I could not pump every three hours like I normally do. Needless to say, ye olde breasts have decided to slow down on the milk-making, given such strong lack of demand signals. So, the unofficial theme for this week shall be “let the pumping commence” (the official theme is “let there be institutional research. or else.”). And on this note, off to bed I go, and who knows, there might be 4 hours of sleep in it for me. Hard to feel sorry for myself when all this is totally self-inflicted…

Friday evening, we had Alan’s game at our house. I actually managed to stay awake, but ended up trying to catch up on work instead of socializing. DemonChild did his part in tiring out the baby-sitters, and did not fall asleep until almost midnight.

On Saturday, I went to Target to buy gifts and necessities. Twice, because the first time around I forgot half the gifts. Saturday afernoon Rachel stopped by with baby Caden. He is a cute big guy, weighing 16 lbs at 2 months. It was good to see Rachel again, and as a bonus we managed to get Caden to drink some milk from a bottle. On Saturday evening I drove to Shannon’s neck of the woods for a girls’ night out, dragging Squeekers along. The evening started off somewhat unpromising with the discovery that one of the Jetta’s front headlights has burned out, meaning that I would have to take the road test on the Saturn, which I have not driven in ages, and to which I lovingly refer to as “blind spot on wheels.” The girls night out was a lot of fun, though.

The Road Test of (Thwarted) Doom. It’s a good thing we took the Saturn for the test – the streets around Mill Rd DMV were not plowed very well, and even with the all-wheel drive and going slow, the SUV was sliding all over the place. The examiner was very nice. I tried to keep my nervous chatter to a minimum. I remembered to check The Blind Spots of Doom. I slowed down for railroad tracks and uncontrolled intersections. I pretended to parallel park and backed more-or-less straight back when asked. In the end, I only lost 8 points, compared to 28 and 31 on my previous attempts. Larry’s coaching definitely paid off…. And oh yeah, it is five failures in any given 365 days. Afterwards, BelovedSpouse and I went out for a celebratory lunch.

Next day, my coworkers trusted my mad probationary driving sk1llz to get them to MSOE and back four days in a row. At first I was going to let my boss drive, but he turned out to be one of those “they gave HIM a license, but failed me???” drivers, so we had a better chance of survival with me at the wheel (boss ran through a bunch of red lights, went down the wrong way on one-way streets, and in general drove like God was his copilot. As one coworker later put it, “I rode with him twice, and it was two times too many.” Eeep.).

I passed my road test. W00t!

As I was pulling out of the driveway to go to our Girls Night Out, BelovedSpouse noticed that one of the front lights on the Jetta has burned out. Figures. That means I will be taking the road test on the Saturn, aka Blind Spot on Four Wheels, which I have not driven for months, have no idea how to parallel park, and am not bloody likely to handle with confidence. I think my first question to the unfortunate person getting the dubious priviledge to test my driving skills will be, “So, that thing about having to go to driving school after you fail five times in a year… Would that be a calendar year or 365 days from the first failure?” Shannon says I should go to take the test expecting to pass. Seeing as I have tried that twice and failed spectacularly, this time I am going in expecting to fail. This way at least I will not be disappointed. Of course, there is always the possibility of Saturn’s lights experiencing critical failure between now and 9:00 am Monday, in which case I will fail the test without even having to do anything. Go me.

Seeing as today the parking lot at work has finally claimed its pound of flesh from me – that is to say, I scratched the side of the Jetta while trying to park. You know how the car body bulges out a little above the wheels? That’s the part I have done my best to scrape off by means of a handy column. Poor Jetta. To be honest, I am surprised it took me that long, because those columns have been looking at me with intent for years now, and I suck at judging distances. On the plus side, at least I did not hit another car. Or done worse damage to mine – the columns claimed Mel’s sideview mirror six years ago.

In other news, next week is Squeeker’s last at his current daycare, and then he starts going to the same one DemonChild is at. I felt bad giving my notice. I always feel so guilty when I have to do something like that. The people at daycare were very nice and understanding, and I did warn them when we signed up that we are on a waiting list at another place, but we did not expect an opening until summer, so the move comes a lot sooner than anticipated. DemonChild’s daycare is great, but I still feel a little sad. It’s silly, I know, but there you have it…

Oh, and I am flunking my road test for the third time on Monday. Watch this space, LOL.

DemonChild pulled the Hulk video from the shelf. BelovedSpouse, ever the helpful parent, told him the green guy was Hulk, and that Hulk says “Smash.” So now DemonChild walks around, saying “Hulk MASH” – too precious for words.

DemonChild is getting more and more verbal. Though often we still have no idea what he is trying to say, he is building up his vocabulary and is definitely understanding a lot more, as well. He can count to twelve in English and in Russian, and knows most of the numbers by sight, as well. When we read books, he would point out page numbers, and be correct 80% of the time. He also likes to repeat the alphabet (English and Russian) after us. Sometime he would just sit there and say random letters (“A,” “G,” “F”) with great satisfaction. He is now very clear that I am Mommy and BelovedSpouse is Daddy. At dinner, he pointed at BelovedSpouse and said “Daddy” and then pointed at me and said “Mommy.” Our friend Jason, who once got called Mommy by DemonChild, can now relax :-)

On the way home Tuesday, DemonChild pulled off his shoe and was chewing on it. I told BelovedSpouse that, got very little reaction. Until after they got back home from food shopping, and BelovedSpouse yelled up the stairs, “I now know what you meant when you said DemonChild was chewing his shoe. I though you were talking figuratively before.” Which now makes me wonder how one can figuratively chew a shoe….

We switched to a new cartoon. Now we watch three Russian cartoons about a boy and a dog and a cat, who live in the village of Prostokvashino. There is also a bird who can say “Kto tam?” (“Who is there?”). Now DemonChild can say “Kto tam?” too.

Another cool thing is that now DemonChild likes to read books. He would pick one, come to us, and say “Book!” Then he’ll sit on our lap while we read to him, and point out things he knows. He can identify many of the books by the first words of what’s inside — “I am Sam,” “Tili-bom,” “I love you through and through” (though ‘through and through’ tend to come out rather garbled, he does try).

DemonChild tries to play with Squeeker, but is still somewhat unclear on the concept of not stepping on baby or sitting on his head. I was telling him “No” the other day as he tried to walk over his brother, and he looked at me and said “No” back and shook his head. Too cute to stay mad at.

DemonChild likes to push the garage door open button when they leave for daycare in the morning. Sometimes, we deliberately close the door just so he can open it.

I moved my plants from the great room to the living room, and now DemonChild has fun playing with his trains on the seat of the bay window.

He climbs everything like a little monkey. If there is a hard way to get from point A to point B, DemonChild will pick it – otherwise, where is the fun?

Ugh, it is 5 am and Squeeky is crying, so away I go…..

Squeeker was 4 months old yesterday. I tried to take pictures, but he was not in a very cooperative mood. My parents sent an email congratulating him. Was cute.

He can smile, and distinguishes me and BelovedSpouse from other people. He loves DemonChild, and always has a smile for him (even when DemonChild shows his brotherly love by trying to sit on his head). He knows the ladies at daycare, and smiles at them, too.

He can roll on his side from his tummy, and we have caught him rolling from tummy to back a few times. I think rolling from back to tummy is not far in the future, assuming he decides it is actually worth it.

He is still a lap baby, but at least we have been able to put him under Mr. Star in the mornings, where he kicks and plays under it while we get ready for the day. In the evenings, he mostly wants to be held.

He coos and purrs like a little kitten. He likes to suck and chew on his hands. He picks up objects within reach (bibs, toys) and chews on them, too. He drools like a fiend.

He decided he does not like sleeping in the pack’n'play anymore. As I write this, he is asleep on the bed next to BelovedSpouse – and that’s not where he started the night. Not sure what the pack’n'play has done to go out of favor like that, but something will have to be done.

He does not take long naps (at least, not for us). We are lucky if he sleeps for an hour at a stretch. And then he wakes up and squeeks. Or screams, if he is hungry. Not one to politely wait to be fed, is our Squeektar.

His 4-months checkup is on the 26th (and DemonChild will get his 2-year checkup then), so I will post vital stats then.

Well, I managed to post almost every day for two weeks before temporarily falling off the face of the earth. I am not ignoring the blog, I am just asleep as soon as the kids go down (and sometimes before then). Last time I felt like this, I was pregnant with Squeeker. Since I am currently not in a gestating state (and if I am, there better be an angel of God showing up before BelovedSpouse and pointing a finger at the Holy Spirit), I have no idea what my excuse is. *sigh*

I feel overwhelmed these days. Still haven’t managed to schedule a road test, because whenever I look, there are no openings available. Have not looked through a single box in the basement. Have not replied to emails from friends. Half the time I fall asleep before getting Squeek’s bottles ready, and then the next day I am behind schedule from the start. Need to gather data for surveys at work – have not started on them yet. Need to go through a month worth of mail that is currently threatening to collapse my antique writing desk. Probably don’t need to be up at 4 am blogging, but when have I done the smart thing?

I am thankful for my husband playing downstairs with DemonChild. Hearing their happy shrieks. Knowing that they are having a good time. Thankful that Squeeker has fallen asleep in my lap, and hoping he will stay down for an hour at least. Thankful that I can call my parents every weekend, and grateful that this weekend I talked to my grandmother, as well. Thankful that we have good friends. That we both have jobs. That we are healthy. We are so blessed. I have to remember that.

I have been very tired lately, falling asleep when I meant to stay up and do dishes, or go through mail, or blog. On Friday, I took a personal day (“I think my kids finally broke me,” I wrote to my boss by way of explanation) because we had a game that evening and guests coming on Saturday, and the casa was in dire need of cleaning. Friday was also my last driving lesson; I was so tired I consistently put the car in park instead of in reverse. I feel that I got a lot out of my five lessons; now let’s hope I will be able to schedule my road test sometime soon. Lately, there has been no openings, or openings at the end of March, which is a little two far in the future for my liking.

I got home around 12:30 on Friday, and vacuumed and put away toys and ran the dishwater and did a couple loads of laundry. Got Squeeker from daycare, dumped him and DemonChild on BelovedSpouse, and cleaned the downstairs bathroom. First gamers started to arrive around 7:15; when everybody got there, I handed Squeeker back to BelovedSpouse and cleaned the bathrooms upstairs. Went to feed Squeektar around 10 pm and fell asleep again. Woke up around midnight and then at 2 am – the game was over and everybody was gone by then, so there went my plan to socialize after the game. Oh well, let’s hope I needed the sleep.

Saturday I called my parents and washed the kitchen floor before my friends from Minnesota arrived. Now the house is at least somewhat clean, and tomorrow I will try to call my grandparents, finish up the laundry, and maybe even go through the mail. Such exciting plans I have.

On Monday, classes start again. Will try to make it to work by 8 am, or at least by 8:30. Wish me luck.

DemonChild is back to waking up only once per night, if that. Squeektar, on the other hand, is not sleeping well. Last couple of nights, I must have fed him every two hours or so. As I am typing this, he is crying in our bedroom. It is almost 1 am, and I remember when he used to sleep through most of the night. I guess he decided that sleeping for four or five hours in a row at night is over-rated. We beg to differ, but he is not listening.

But besides being tired and behind on everything, things are going OK here. Ordered a peacock feathers stained glass window-thingie for the great room. Bought some gently used flatware in the Oneida Eden pattern on Ebay – who knows, we might end up with matching silverware after all. Ordered a couple of books on Amazon.com – “Don’t make me think” by Steve Krug for work, and “Reading with Babies, Toddlers, and Twos” for our edification. Being good and not buying anything else.

And talking about being good, I better go to bed before I fall asleep at the keyboard. Night night.

We were friends for years in high school. We were friends for years in college. We were friends for years in grad school. We were friends for years. She was in my wedding. I was in her wedding. We saw each other almost every day. He used to call me every week. We emailed each other all the time. We had so much in common. We were like family. We were friends. Friends forever.

And then something happened. Little things – an email not answered, a phone call not returned, a cancelled date never rescheduled. And suddenly months have gone by and we have not talked. And I realize that what we had is, if not gone, then starting to wither. Slow death by neglect. Guilty as charged.

Do we try to re-build? To re-connect, re-link? Will it work? Do you want it to work? Should we even try?

I miss you, Jen. I miss you, Karen. I miss you, Rebekah. I miss you, Todd. I miss you, Scott. I miss you, Karina. I miss you, Rachel. I miss you, Erica. Can we try again?

So far, have managed (more or less) to blog fairly frequently, take pictures of kids almost every day, and even videotaped them once. Office cleaning continues apace; all that’s left is one box of stuff to go through, and then the great exodus of textbooks from the home shall commence. Am trying to talk to DemonChild in Russian a lot more. Taking adult driving lessons. Attempts at being a good wife derailed by rampant sickness and general lack of sleep. Overall, nothing to write home about.

Kids are sick (but much better). We are sick. What am I doing up at midnight? Wasting time. I should be in bed. However, unless the house fairies are going to fold the laundry and clean stuff in the kitchen, I am SOL. I hate when my misery is self-inflicted :-)

Next day update: Useless house fairy did not clean the kitchen. Ugh.

Some days are just doomed. Thursday was one of them.

I go to pick up DemonChild from grandma’s. He is taking a nap, and does not take kindly to being woken from it. On the drive to Squeeker’s daycare, DemonChild makes sure I am well aware of his displeasure. Once there, I get the screaming one out of the car and carry him in. Screaming and crying continues, unabated. As I finish putting an unhappy Squeeker (note from his daycare provider: “coughed all day”) into the car seat, I notice that DemonChild is only wearing one shoe. Well, at least now I know one of the reasons for screaming. So, holding DemonChild, car seat, and diaper bag, I make my way to the car. DemonChild is not happy and does not care who gets to hear about it. Fortunately, the missing shoe is found in the footwell; unfortunately, putting it on just gives DemonChild another reason to scream.

Once Squeeker and diaper bag are safely out of the drizzling rain, I get the bright idea to call our pediatrician’s office and schedule an appointment for the boys, since all that coughing can’t be a good thing (that, and I am not sure how much longer I can last on less than six hours of sleep per night, seeing as my children are telepathic and start waking up with disturbing regularity once I go to bed, regardless of what time that actually happens; a sure-fire way for both of them to sleep through the night requires me to pull an all-nighter, and while my spirit is willing, my body hates me for that). To my surprise, the pediatrician’s office is still open. Can I make it there by 6 pm? Sure I can.

It’s a 10-15 minutes drive from the daycare. DemonChild finally decides to give crying a break. Squeeker, not to be outdone, seizes the opportunity to make himself heard. I call BelovedSpouse, catch him at home starting to make dinner, and stupidly tell him that I should be able to handle both kids on my own. We drive on, with Squeektar and DemonChild taking turns expressing their displeasure with the world in general. I am starting to think that New Year resolutions 1 & 2, “be a better wife and mother,” can be effectively accomplished by driving off a cliff, or barring that, getting a divorce and waving visitation rights.

[continued a couple of days later]

We make it to the pediatrician’s office by 6:05. Both kids are whiny and unhappy. I am trying to remember where the nearest cliff is. Fortunately for all concerned, we are the only people in the waiting area, and the nurse takes us in almost immediately. Temperatures are taken (Squeeker gets to experience the joys of having a thermometer shoved up his butt for the first time in his life). Weights are recorded. Roughly, Squeek is at 13 lbs 5 oz (6 kg 40 g), and DemonChild at 23 lbs 14 oz (10 kg 800 g). The doctor comes in and diagnoses both little guys with RSV, with a bonus double ear infection for DemonChild. He also gets the dubious joy of having to inhale medication for 10 minutes, which are spent on my lap, screaming, while the nice nurse holds the smoking air mask near his unhappy face, and the nice doctor entertains Squeeker. The medicine is working, since DemonChild is able to scream for 10 minutes without coughing once. We leave with triaminicine for congestion, an inhaler for DemonChild, and a prescription for amoxycillin.

I get home at 7:30, leave the kids with BelovedSpouse, drive to Walgreens to get the amoxycillin, come back an hour later, help put DemonChild to bed, shove the boob in Squeeker’s face until he falls asleep out of sheer desperation. By then it is 10:30, and I have decided that in the absence of conveniently located cliffs I will just have to build my own. Tomorrow, when I can keep my eyes open.

WoD says:
i changed “your warriors” to “the warriors”
E. says:
no problem. I wasn’t excited about it.
WoDs:
because some of us don’t identify with sports
E. says:
You’re kinda a brWoDat.
says:
and here i was aiming for “totally a bitch”