kisses for everyone

Our bedtime routine for Oliver for about the last week has been that after he has his P.J.s on, Kevin has to read him a story and I have to leave. Before I leave we have hugs and kisses. Tonight, before I left, I kissed Kevin then Oliver, and then Oliver held up his little bear for me to kiss. So I did. How delightful!

painting progress

Okay, so this is kind of cheating, because this is progress I made before I burned out and Oliver's sleep went haywire again. But it is progress nonetheless, and I am hereby posting it as such to keep my promise. (Cheater!)

Also, this is more for me than anyone else, since I still haven't gotten a baby book together, I just want to post the latest news on Oliver, so at least it will be recorded somewhere. He is now officially a toddler. On Saturday last week (Aug. 12) he just stood up walked toward kevin in the kitchen, then quickly fell, but about 20 minutes later, he picked a book of the bookshelf, and I said, "go take that book to Dad so he can read it to you." And that's exactly what he did. Both times he walked about a yard. What a sight to see your baby up and walking! It's strange and wonderful and scary and exciting. He didn't do it anymore until Monday, and since Monday he's been walking all over the place. He falls A LOT, and I think it is quite frustrating for him, but he is getting better and better at it. I feel a little jipped, in a way, though, because I remember younger siblings and neices and nephews walking between parents or two people back and forth, you know, with applauding audiences and whatnot. But Oliver hasn't ever really done that, he has nearly always walked AWAY from me or Kevin, almost like, "I've got things to do, people. I've just been holding back on you, I've been able to walk for this whole time, I just chose not to. What's all the fuss about, anyway?" Heh.

He also bites and hits and pinches and throws things, among which are tantrums. I have no idea what to do about any of those things.
And he is currently (as I type) refusing to take a nap. Aaargh. So this is it. I can't help myself from thinking, "so, this is it. This is your life. This is what you've been preparing (supposedly) yourself for for however many years, it was always in the future, just an imagining. And now here you are. This is it."


Okay, so I went a little crazy and gung-ho last month, and I totally burned through all gumption for anything. Also, I somehow let myself get roped into being the treasurer for our Home Owner's Association, so I've been learning Quickbooks and billing, and making deposits and going to Presidency meetings. Eesh.

But I still need to finish my paintings. I was hoping by August I would be done, but yet again I have to push my deadline back. Let's give me another deadline. Let's say, by Oliver's birthday. So, by Wednesday this week, I hereby commit to have progress on the painting, and I will post said progress here at that time.

Wish me luck.

Enrichment fun

I'm on the Enrichment committee, and so I get to do the posters, flyers and sign-ups. I had a lot of fun this time. Here's one of the flyers:

he sleeps folded in half

It can't be good, but if I try to move him, lay him out flat, he just wakes up and we start all over again. Right now he is sleeping with his forehead on top of the bumper pad, with both hands on the railing above the bumper pad. Like a poor little jail bird! Here is a sketch of him and his little bear, all folded in half. Can it be good? It just can't be good. What should I do?

Proof of my cruelty and child abuse

So, welcome back to aich-eee-double-hockey-stick. Heh. How's that one for ya? No, last night I endured an hour and twenty minutes of screaming before I gave in and just held Oliver in the recliner. Kevin took the morning shift and held him from 4 until 6 or so. So for the afternoon nap, I decided to start over with the sleep lady shuffle. So I sat in the room after putting Oliver in his crib, with my head down, only offering "shhh, shhh, love you, lay down and go to sleep, sweet dreams," now and then. I put him in his crib at 1:28, and I can't get him out for one hour. At one hour, I'm supposed to leave the room, come back and say, "you must not have been tired" and get him out and try again later. I honestly thought I was going to have to do that. I had a little scare, because at 2:24 he was still so hopping mad, he was jumping up and down and knocked his chin on the crib railing. I nearly had a heart attack. But I still waited. I was going to get up and go out at 2:28. And that's when Oliver finally flopped down and fell asleep. It took an entire hour of screaming. I can't say I feel good. I'm only relieved I don't have to worry about doing it again in a little while (though, tonight, it's going to be worse!) Here is proof of my child abuse. (I think I'll put the crib bumpers back up, so his feet don't get stuck out like that again, and so he doesn't bump his head. His poor little head!) Forgive the poor quality photo, I didn't want to use a flash, and it is quite dark in there.

My poor little Oliver, I'm so so sorry! I wish I could say it's for your own good, but I'm not exactly sure anymore. Maybe it's for my own good. I guess that's indirectly for your good. I sure hope we can still be friends, and you can forgive me.

Nothing like ignoring 20 minutes of screaming to give one an ulcer

So, the last few days I've kind of been a little over-indulgent when it came to Oliver's naps and wake-up time. One morning I got him out before six a.m., one afternoon he pulled himself up to standing in his crib and screamed bloody murder, so I went in and "rescued him" and he slept in my arms. Another afternoon he fell asleep nursing and I just held him and napped myself, this morning at 4:00 Kevin held him until 5:30 am and I came out and nursed him. Then, of course Oliver was sleepy again at 7:30 and fell asleep nursing, I only let him sleep for fifteen minutes, but it was in my arms.

So, backsliding we are. When I did our morning nap routine about 30 minutes ago, I decided no more incosistent, intermittent reinforcement. I put Oliver in his crib like I usually did and am supposed to, and he SCREAMED straight for 20 minutes. Just when I was about to go get him, he finally calmed down and went to sleep. Seriously, I was at the door ready to go in--and do what, I don't know, but I wanted to stop my pounding heart, churning stomach, choking throat, and wracking guilt. Man, I feel so wretched when I have to let him figure it out himself. But, I don't want to go back to that awful, awful hell of sleep deprivation that I was in, so I hope we can get back on track fairly quickly again, so I can stop feeling like a cruel loathesome mother, and Oliver can get good rest.

I heart my mac

I do, I really really do.