No, not a radio station, and not the current heat index. That was Claire’s temperature at bedtime, and having had Tylenol. She cuddled me and her teddy bear all day, and I wore her in the Moby wrap as much as my back could stand it. I feel for her.
Earlier in the day, she even tried to be cheerful. Look at that little red nose!
My intuition was correct. Claire woke this morning sneezing, snotty, coughing, and with a fever of 101. Poor kiddo.
Not to worry, Uncle T. By the time you arrive she will be mostly over it, at least the contagious stage.
I’ve never participated in this meme before, but Gerry does so I thought I’d do a quick brain dump. Reader beware: the quality of what comes next might be less than intelligent. I should also mention that the meme focuses on 10 things one is thankful for; I wrote it more generally, though it could be said that everything on this list is something for which I’m grateful.
There is always something new to see, or a new way to see something.
Yesterday, the garage spring broke, leaving us stuck in our home because we couldn’t get it open. The property manager couldn’t get a repairman out until (we hope) this morning. We didn’t even have access to the stroller, which is in back of the CRV. No clearance to get to it.
With a busy girl who wants to do lots of things, I felt a little bit of cabin fever yesterday! Husband was also working from home all day, and a friend came over with her daughter for awhile.
Update 10:45 a.m.: Fixed!
I sit at the dining table, just having put Claire to bed at 7:45 p.m. Husband is out seeing a movie with a friend; he deserves an occasional fun outing too. The challenge has been that last week I started doing something different with Claire’s schedule, and today I’ve decided it probably isn’t working out.
Before last week, our routine was thus:
Wake at 5:45 or 6:00 a.m., have a bottle
Play until sleepy around 7:30-8:00 a.m., go down for a nap
Up around 9:00 or 9:30 a.m., eat breakfast, play or go out
Bottle at 11-ish, play, then a second nap around 12:30
Up at 1:30 or 2:00, lunch, more play
Another nap around 3:30 or 4:00 sometimes
Dinner at 5:30, play, Husband home for dinner at 6:30
Play, bath, bed at 7:45 or 8:00
Last week I began trying:
Wake at 5:45 or 6:00 a.m., have a bottle
Back to sleep in the crib until she wakes at 8:00 or 8:30
Breakfast at 9:00
Bottle at 11:30
Nap at 1:00
Lunch at 2:00, bottle later, then dinner
Up until 7:45 or 8:00
Even though she is getting the same number of hours of sleep, I noticed with the new schedule she is cranky, more tearful, and tired. She seems to need a nap at 10 or so, but she won’t fall asleep. She has a mid-day long nap, but then ends up exhausted, clingy, and whiny in late afternoon; however, she won’t nap then either. So it makes for many many hours between sleep periods where she is just not her best self.
Tomorrow I’ll return to the former schedule and observe how this works over the next week. My hope is that she regains her cheerful balance. I think she simply needs more frequent, if shorter, naps.
I wish I had more to say, but at this time of day I’m lucky if I can form a thought at all! A novel and bed await.
—
Next on my to-read list (once I can get a copy from the library): The Lincolns: Portrait of a Marriage
The next step up from “the bucket” we had her in. This is another sign of change, of Claire growing up.
We call it a throne because she sits so high up, so now she can see the world roll by, and because it cost a pretty penny (although we think she’ll be able to use this until age five or six or 65 lbs.)
This is one of three pinwheels I stuck in a flower pot in our back patio. Claire loves to watch them spin, especially when sunlight causes them to reflect light into the house.
My energy seems to have returned, which makes me feel cheerier and optimistic. This shift occurred over the weekend when I got some time to myself.
A Guatemalan friend recommended some authors to me, so on Thursday I dove into Antigua and My Life Before, by Marcela Serrano. I finished yesterday completely satisfied with the encounter. I have not read much in recent months. In part this is because in recent years I turned to non-fiction more often, and I find I can’t sustain my attention on it now. Slipping into another reality via a good story is what I need. The next book is The Bejeweled Boy by Miguel Angel Asturias. My friend also encouraged me to try Gabriel Garcia Marquez again; I had tried to read One Hundred Years of Solitude several times but it did not engage me. She has suggested I try Love in the Time of Cholera, so this is on my list to borrow from my beautiful local library.
In addition to reading, I was able to go out shopping to use a gift card I’d won at a social event. It was at Lakeshore Learning, so it was still oriented toward my child, but I love to look at educational games and teaching supplies, and I had fun there. And I took a relaxing soak yesterday evening. These moments rejuvenated me.
I have another reason to feel happy as well. My parents have booked a plane flight to visit us in October! We are thrilled and excited they are making the long journey from Syracuse, especially because they are in their mid-70s and travel is not so easy for them (and many others) any more. They will get to meet their granddaughter in person! We have a busy season coming up; visitors are coming in August, September, and October, and then holiday season begins. Every day I pay attention — as often as I can — because so much happens, and Claire is changing so fast. I try to embrace and yet not cling.
Well first, it takes time and energy, which are increasingly scarce for me.
Second, and more importantly to me, it creates an often one-sided relationship with people. It puts people in a spectator role and removes incentive to connect directly with me, because they already know what’s up in my life.
That doesn’t provide the most fulfilling relationships for me.
I’m so exhausted that I have few words and less energy. I go to bed at 8:00 p.m., am unconscious immediately, then arise at 5:30 a.m. (or whenever Claire wakes), and feel exhausted all day. I think that the energy required to be a mother — the vigilance, the constant availability — just calls for more energy than a good night’s sleep can provide.
I have less to say, and less desire to share in the blog what little I do have to say. I may be evolving out of blogging. Or at least headed toward a hiatus.
In addition to riding the swing, pulling up grass, scrunching sand between our fingers, and generally trying to put all interesting items in the mouth:
And happy, happy news! Uncle TP is coming for a visit to meet my Little Eclaire in August! It’s funny, because he came out in August last year for a visit when I was huge and so ready to give birth and be done with pregnancy. A year? Already?! (I say that a lot on this blog, don’t I?)
For reasons I don’t want to go into (mostly because they’re boring), the past couple days have been rough for me. I am raw and short on energy and patience. At a stoplight, I had my right turn blinker on. It’s an option to turn right on red (unless there’s sign prohibiting it). I was about to turn when the driver behind me honked. So I didn’t. That’s the kind of mood I’m in — something mean within digs in its heels. She honked again, and I saw her gesticulating in the mirror. I waited until the light turned green and went, and waved at her as she roared past me all the distance of one block to turn left; she flipped me the middle finger through her sun roof. I know it’s not mature or honorable behavior. I don’t like it in myself. This all happened within a mile of my home as I returned home from a nice outing at the park with a friend. I know, I should have walked instead — except here there’s a risk we’d be run over by the same driver. Such is life in an overpopulated area. Grrrrr.
I got home to cook the salmon I bought yesterday to find it had turned bad. It smelled fishy, which is a sign of very old fish. The whole fridge smells funky now.
Claire is starting to arch her back and thrash and scream when something happens she doesn’t want, or when something she wants doesn’t happen. Toddlerhood tantrums already?
I got NO time to myself this past weekend (except for one nap, but I’d like some awake alone time), since we had family errands and housecleaning and some social commitments. I also have very little say over my schedule as far as when things happen (nothing is much in my control), even on weekends.
Something I started to knit I had to frog (“rip it” out) because I made a mistake and couldn’t figure out how to fix it.
What’s so very bothersome to me is the way incidents such as those in the first paragraph stay with me, and how a sour hatred toward humanity rises up in my throat when I’m feeling this raw.
Cranky, cranky, cranky. Will someone show me some love in the comments? If you need incentive, here’s one:
