I’m cold all the time, you guys. Like, is this an issue for anyone else? My desk job keeps me freezing – I feel like I need to sustain vigorous activity all day long if I want to be warm. Instead, I just try to drink enough coffee and then enough water that I constantly get up to go to the bathroom. It’s not vigorous activity, but it’s better than typing for keeping me warm. And because, up until this week, we had beautiful, un-fall-like weather, I’ve been hesitant to break out the warm sweaters and boots. Call me crazy, I usually love autumn clothing, but I’m resisting this year. It’s tough to give up on that Indian summer we enjoyed through September.
I’ve hit a bit of a lull this week: there’s a big project looming at the office, but I am further down the critical path than the project right now, so I’m waiting, waiting, trying to foresee possible issues and worry my way into an anticipation of every potential problem with the project so that I become a giant ball of stress, freak out my employees, and do everything perfectly in minimal time. Good idea, right? I thought so.
We’re on a bit of a hold at home, too. Tony is studying a lot for his midterm, which takes place next Tuesday, and I can’t even begin to imagine how tedious it must be to pour through the reading for whatever deep-reading of the IRS tax code this class might cover. Add to that the fact that the professor has limited grasp of grammar and punctuation, and seems to be imprecise in his online lecture, and you have a Tony who is a bit overstressed. I know all of this because I sit on the couch and read before bed, or fold laundry, or whatever, and he huffs grumpily over another mistake in his reading materials. Those who can’t do, teach, I guess.
Next week begins several weeks of evening commitments for both Tony and myself, something that is a bit tough on the kids and the at-home parent, but which can’t be avoided if we want to have our own lives. I’m convinced that we’re setting a good example for our children by having interests outside the home. It doesn’t make coordinating dinner any easier, however.
The boys are okay, but not great. Charles has a bit of a cold and has been reluctant to do some of the things he normally begs to do, like go to the Children’s Museum after preschool. He’s eating a ton, though, and sleeping a lot, so it might be that he’s about to grow again. Jamie is possibly cutting more teeth. After about two weeks of sleeping through the night (and waking at 4 am because that is wake up time! Obviously.), he woke up last night at about 1:30 am screaming and jamming his fingers into his mouth. I picked him up from his crib, gave him a drink of water, and cuddled him in the rocking chair until he fell back asleep. Except that he didn’t, really, because as soon as I set him in his crib again, he woke up screaming, clutching for me. By that time, the dog was up and pacing around the bedroom door, clearly wanting to be let outside. I set Jamie down and let Buster out. All the while Jamie screamed like I was pulling out his toenails with a pair of rusty pliers. When I picked him back up, he looked at me, pointed in the direction of my room, and insistently said, “UUUNH!” Like, mom! Take me to your bed now! That kid knows what he wants.
He spent the next few hours in our bed, but we put him back in his crib at 4:45 am when he thought it was time to get up for the day. Ultimately, he slept until 7 am. Charles joined us in bed around 5:30, though, so we weren’t without a sleeping child between us for long.
I used to feel guilty about having the kids sleep with us. After all, parents are not supposed to co-sleep with their children. Don’t all the books say so? Foster independence and self-soothing and blah, blah, blah by making them stay in their bed. I got over myself and those books I don’t read anymore, though. Charles will not want to come join us in bed in a few years. Until then, if it promotes security in his nearly-four-year-old world, what’s the problem? When he starts kicking me in the head, we move him. Jamie’s little, and he likes to sleep next to mama. Why in the world would I be a big meany and tell him “no”? If he’s restless and not sleeping, he gets put back into his crib to cry and fuss and stick his thumb in his mouth and put himself to sleep, but if all he wants to do is snuggle with me, I’m okay with that. What can I say? I love those kids more than life itself, and I want to keep them near.
Our days march on. I’m struggling through the end of a book right now, and then I have several more already downloaded and ready to go. I do not yet have a Halloween costume. I’m open to suggestions. I do not have a good plan for Charles’ birthday. Anyone want to spend election night at Chuck E. Cheese?
Please, someone, regale me with an interesting story or two. A joke? A book recommendation? Thanks.