Posts from the land of Zombies.

Hullo to all--

I am writing to you from a place I haven't been in many many years: sleep deprived. It's an awful place and I recommend that you don't visit. Ever. How did I come to be here, you ask? Ah. Sit back and relax while I regale you with the tale of the past three weeks....

Things you should know beforehand: Aaron's job has a crazy swinging schedule. He works 4 dasy for 13 hours a day and then has 4 off. For 2 months he works during the day--leaving the house at 5am and returning home at 7pm. Then they switch! And he works nights. Same deal, 13 hour days.
Now our tale of terror: When he's on days, Aaron gets home and we all sit down and have dinner together. Then he and Adrian play while I put Fiona to bed. When he's on nights I am outnumbered by 2 tiny people to whom the word 'patience' is merely a collection of sounds. Basically I'm being yelled at by either Adrian or Fiona. Fiona b/c she's tired or wants attention, and Adrian b/c I won't ignore Fiona and "leave her in her bed". Even if it were possible to train her to go to bed at 5pm, I wouldn't do simply because then she'd be up at 5am. Not that that would make a difference. Herein lies the problem: Adrian HATES it when Aaron works nights. It creates all kinds of anxiety that his 3 year old brain is unable to put into words. It gets translated into actions instead...he has nightmares and he wakes up every 2 hours and seeks me out. It started 3 weeks ago and is continuing to this day. He sleeps in his bed until midnight just fine, and then I see him at 12, 2, 4 and 6 when he finally starts his day. Of course somewhere in there Fiona wakes up for her nightly feeding, so I'm up for that too. I've taken to going to bed at 9:30 so I can get 3ish hours of uninterrupted sleep. I hate this. I hate being so exhausted that I have no patience. I hate feeling trapped to this horrendous cycle of no sleep. I hate that I can't fix it. He's too little to be medicated. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say to Adrian to convince him that I'm not going to disappear in the middle of the night.

It takes a 3 year old...

It takes a 3 year old to demonstrate enthusiasm for food in a way that no one else can match.

Hey all.
Sorry to leave you hanging after the last post of doom and gloom. But life is chugging along and I am trying to find time to sit down at the computer rather than do all of the other mundane tasks of momdom.
Things here are allright. Adrian is going to preschool 3 days a week for 6 hours which gives me a little time to breathe deeply and enjoy the quiet. Fiona is crawling and pulling up and following Adrian at every opportunity, which he is enjoying (this week). I am making grand plans for gardens and art (involving solder!), and finding my life full of all of the blah chores: laundry, cooking, dishes, keeping the floors free of debris for the crawling girl. I'd love to tackle a big chore like making a pile of things to donate to Goodwill, but the very thought of such a project wears me out.
And now I have to go for a hair cut, with someone other than my regular stylist b/c she called in sick--this is the second appointment that has been canceled. I'm starting to take it a little personally. All of that is to say that I may be sporting a terrible head of hair for the forseeable future. In which case: hooray for hats.