For better or for worse?

Caution! Melodramatic Detour ahead.
I am worse. SO much worse. This cold is kicking my ass. Furthermore, my Desperately Seeking Pollyanna post from last night was in vain and I am ever so grateful I did not go to Vegas this morning. I spent 11pm-2am and then 5am-6am fervently trying to get Arun to sleep. Anywhere. In his crib, in my bed, in my arms. There was much flailing and sobbing involved. I am ashamed to say, on both our parts. Today's Nap was met with the same resistance. Flailing, sobbing?? Rinse, repeat.

The great twist was that our Parents as Teachers lady came yesterday and totally complimented me on my sMothering Skillz when she watched me head off a few tantrums at the pass. She agreed that my approach was working and was reasonable - then she gave some more awesome suggestions. Around 1:00am, I couldn't help but think wryly that it was a damned shame that she couldn't watch my Ironic Descent into the Darkness as I paced our hallway for the 1000th time.

I always say with perkiness that my sMothering Mantra is "This is temporary, this will pass." I am holding onto that for dear life right now. It has to pass. Dear God, it has to because I feel like I am drowning and clawing for air.

Right this very minute, we are in the back yard. I am bleary-eyed . He is giggling, splashing in water and batting his adorable eye fringe at me. Where the hell is HE getting the energy? He even deigned to cheerfully say "Hi! Hi!" over and over on the phone today with X. It's as if he knows his cushy gig is on the line and he better shape up.

There's hope.


Desperately Seeking a Haircut

Good God, woman. How do you expect me to sleep at night with hair like THIS?

Stick it where?

I actually feel okay. Not better, but not worse. And you know what? I will stick that in my pipe and smoke it. Gratefully.

Arun took a 3.5 hour nap today. I've noticed a trend where I bitterly complain on my blog about things and then magically everything rights itself - as if Life is trying to make me out to be the grumpy hypocrite I am (I'm not an optimist, but I play one online). It makes me want to grouse about how in the hell does one get a roofer to call you back - maybe that will yield some sort of return call.

Anyway, I realize not going to Vegas was a good move. It probably would have made my cold worse and besides, Arun still isn't 100% himself. Pre-Kid, I would have sucked it up and went, but I have to be responsible now as it's no longer All About Me. Oh sure, all the Wise Baby Tomes warn you, but nothing actually prepares you, eh??

Oh - I'd like Monkey to know that I touched up my roots just for her. They are definitely not going to be as purty by the time I see her in a few weeks, but dammit - I still want credit.

Can I borrow your shoulder for awhile?

Updated: Fortunately, the excavators left in the nick of time for The Nap. However, my little eyes spy two Jehovah's Witnesses going door to door peddling Eternal Salvation. It's a good thing they've got God on their side because if they wake the Slumbering Giant from his nap by ringing the doorbell in hopes of luring me to the Dark Side, there's gonna be Hell to pay.

__________
I am sick.

X is out of town, returning on Saturday.

Trip to Vegas has been postponed for a few weeks.

Neighbors across the street are having major excavation work done to their front yard.

The same front yard that Arun's bedroom window overlooks.

Refer to previous posts about Napping Issues.

Hold me, please.

Why do I blog?

I blog, therefore I am. No, actually it's because sometimes, you have Really Sucky Days. Then, you decide to glean what little humor you can and post about it. THEN, you savor each and every Thoughtful, Sympathetic Me!Too! Comment that comes your way. Sometimes, I pump up the volume on the I'm a Shitty Mother Stereo and this blog helps keep me sane. Thank you, from the bottomless pit of my Recently Thawed Heart. THIS is why I blog. I'm curious - why do you blog? If you don't blog, why not? What's holding you back?

Today went really, really well - like, I totally love my son again, which is pretty convenient. Last night, I managed to sleep the whole night through, Arun got up at 8:30 and even took a nap! For the most part, Arun is a good night-time sleeper, barring no teething, illness or an in-town father who picks him up at the slightest squawk. I am glad that X is such a hands-on father, but sometimes, I wish he would let Arun cry for at least a few minutes before rushing in to get him. The plus side, is that X usually takes Nighttime Duty these days. The negative side is that I suspect the kid has figured out how this all works. When X is OUT of town, Arun sleeps the night through. When X is IN town, Arun mysteriously begins waking up in the middle of the night. Suspicious, don't you think??

While Arun is a pretty good nighttime sleeper, Naptime has always been our struggle. It only started to get bearable around 11 months when the Afternoon Nap did a hostile takeover of the Morning Nap and thus, became The Nap. Then, the next few months were Blissful. However. The past month? Not so awesome - just before the time change, it all started to crumble and I am still at a loss as to why. We go to Vegas this weekend, so it's all going to be screwed with anyway - I figure I will start to deal with it next week.

So, this weekend, it appears I will get to meet the luscious Monkey in a Suit in all her pelted glory (FYI, Monkey's blog is on haitus - soon to return with a new n' improved URL). It was difficult convincing my step-grandma that Monkey is not an axe-murderer and that it is not usually life-threatening to meet a BlogFriend in Real Life. Although, I'll admit I am anxious to verify that Monkey is indeed a female lawyer in her 20s and not a 15 year old male with an impressive falsetto. However, if "she" is indeed a 15 year old male, I can only marvel at "her" incongruous expert knowledge of the real estate market and bikini waxes.

This is the last post for the week since I'll need to finish some things before heading out. Next week, I'll have two book reviews to post - The Guy Not Taken by Jennifer Weiner and Rules of the Wild: A Novel of Africa by Francesca Marciano. I mean, don't get me wrong - it's not like I'm Michiko Kakutani by any means, but it is fun to write about books.

Finally, some Linky Love. If you are interested in the stay-at-home-mom vs. working mom discussion, check this thought-provoking post out over at the Soccer Mom Vote. The post is titled SAHM vs WAHM vs WOHM vs WTF? Enjoy!

When does a Bad Day begin?

How about 1:00am?

Say, perhaps, you wake up at 1:00am. You give up on the Sandman's lazy ass and start puttering around your house - reading a book, surfing the Internet, raiding the fridge for soymilk, petting the cats. You finally get back to sleep at 4:00am. His Royal Highness (HRH) wakes up TWO hours early at 6:30am to much crabbiness. The rest of the morning is fretful with you holding on for dear life (aka The Nap). The Nap turns into an illicit affair to the sweet melody of No Way, No How, You Crazy Woman. Finally, you give up on The Nap and pack HRH up to head into Kansas City to eat at Manny's. Sometimes, Life simply requires a Monterrey burrito (and when you're not gestating, a margarita). Your heart threatens to thaw as HRH carefully dips his chips into his salsa to ensure his Sweet, Precious Fingers don't get dirty. However, when HRH begins to wantonly throw salsa-laden chips onto the floor, your heart realizes it was a False Alarm. During dinner, Your Husband, who is out of town, calls and as you recount your Tale of Woe, he replies "Well, somedays he's just not going to take a nap". You frantically try to recall where you saw that ad for a $50 Quickie Divorce and ponder how rapidly you can get the locks changed.

On your way home, you do a Driveby through Gymboree because Hello! It's For the Baby, Not For YOU which is the very best kind of Guilt Free Retail Therapy.

Of course, you know deep in your soul that your daughter will be just as much of a pill as her brother. Sugar and spice, my ASS. Gender Stereotypes are SO last century.