Love, JoJo

November 15, 2011

Time for another post! One of Those Posts, you know the kind, the only ones I ever do anymore: The baby is finally asleep at 7p after sleeping only 27 minutes and 30 seconds total since 4:30a (to his credit, 2 separate naps), so I think I’ll update! (AKA I could not get up from this chair if you gave me a glass of wine… Oh, wait!) But then you remember you just had a day like this - no, 3 in a row - about a month ago. Thankfully you just saw the movie Bridesmaids, so you know how to laugh. Besides, plenty of good change is underfoot.

SO. Sleep. And Arlo. Like I mentioned, Break Down. Hello, rock bottom, nice to see you again. You don’t look as bad as you did in 2008, but you’re still scary.

My doctor looked at my weight chart and then my waist. “Cortisol,” she said. “Plain and simple. More sleep, less cortisol. And I’m doubling your meds.”

My breast pump and I were sent to a nice hotel overnight. I decided I could no longer nurse every 40-60 min from sundown to sunrise. We dismantled the crib (which he’d never sleep in anyway) from the side of our bed and put the mattress on the floor of Arlo’s room. We decided Matt would take 7p-2a, and I would take 2a-6a. We were so scared. There were some rough nights. But we were heartened by the fact that he was pretty consistently sleeping 80-120 minute stretches or longer, a vast improvement. And honestly, while Matt had the crap work (totally not fair that dads don’t have boobs), Arlo & I seemed more well-rested. Finally, this week (as of 2 nights ago), Arlo started sleeping at 7p, waking but going right back down after a quick rock with Matt around 11p, and then going until 3,4, or 5am! Sometimes he goes back to sleep for another 30-60 min at that point, sometimes not. But! A huge improvement! I’m proud that we did what worked until it didn’t and then we changed. Sometimes change is hard.

Didn’t do an update for your 2nd birthday, Arlo. Classic 2nd child: OK, you took first steps at 10.75 months. Walking full time at 11.5 months. All molars in by 12 months. Top canines by 13 months, and your bottoms are visible beneath the surface at 13.5 months. Communication is different this time around. More about motions, pointing, sounds. Someone else does your talking for you… You obviously know a lot of words, but outside of hot, light, fan, dog, mama, and dada, you don’t say them. Your favorite book is Brown Bear, as was Henry’s at this age. You also like this Animal Kisses book we got at the library. You always react in anticipation of the next animal’s kiss. For instance, cows smootch, and you turn to me and laugh and cover your cheeks. Spiders tickle and you cover your belly. I can tell you know what I’m saying.

It’s all good until, you know, it’s the end of the day and you point vaguely, “Ruh!”

(Following your gesture), “Cup?”

(Throws down cup), “RUH!”

“More water?”

(Throws head backwards), “RRRUUUHHHH!!!!!”

“Bath?”

(Throws massive handful of pasta in my face.) “RUH!”

“Word to your turd. We’ll go with that one.”

You love seltzer and blenders. I cannot imagine what you will do if Grandma gets me that Vitamix for Christmas.

Oh, my Henry, the neglected oldest child. I miss our times together, just you and me. We are going on more dates this year! My lover of science, math, and words. My friend to everyone, young and old. My lover of foods only brown and white. My fort builder and rocket launcher. You and Moses, thick as thieves.

Let me say I am in love with 4.5. Pretty much everyone I know agrees 3.5 is the maker and the breaker. But what a difference 1 year makes… what a difference a few months makes! After this summer, between the oppressive heat and the CONSTANT sibling rivalry (“Arlo looked at me! He touched my stuff!”), it was really, really hard to see the bright spots ahead.

But, sure enough, last Friday was a day off from school. I had nothing planned. And we all just grooved. It was AMAZING. My little glimmer of light on the horizon. You wanted to play with your brother! Without me! Suddenly it was not so hard. If I do one thing in my life, I will birth two boys who get along with each other, who really love each other.

Maybe not coincidentally, last Friday was a full moon.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Things HW said today that I don’t want to forget: 1) What’s going to happen when Santa dies? 2) You know what’s most important? Dessert. 3) If I love you as much as Dad does, are we gonna have babies, too?

Arlo, unlike his bro at this age, has never really been interested in sitting for a story. Tonight, suddenly, he sat for 5. He kept pointing at the shelf and saying, “That!” then he correctly identified and said duck, dog, and cat.

2010 taxes finally filed.

We surprised Dado with an early bday dinner last night: cheese plate, steak frites, Alice Waters’ chocolate cake, Ricard.

Need to update this blog more. Arlo still wakes every hour, all night long. That’s my excuse.

Somehow I’m going to run 12 miles tomorrow. Marathon in 3.5 months. Will probably run Komen in a few weeks, see if I can’t defend my age group title from 2 years ago.

Arlo is walking!!! Holy sh*t!

Two from HW today:

(Pointing to moon in morning sky) “Mom, look up there! It’s the earth!” - I see. And what are we on right now? “Asphalt.”

“Mom, is Cookie Monster going to die soon?” - Why do you think that? “He eats too many cookies and not enough celery.”

Well, looks like we fucked up again in 2010. Or, I guess we're just on uncannily on trend. <sigh>

July Update

I started an update in early June, and I’m still not done—so now it will be a July update:

 My dear Arlo, you are 9-months-old. You are 28.5 inches tall (50^th percentile), 22 pounds (93^rd percentile), and your head is, as usual, off the charts. It’s so weird to have a “small” baby this time.

You started crawling forward 2 months ago. It’s still an army crawl, but it’s very determined. Lately, though, you don’t want to crawl—or sit down, for that matter—at all. You just want to stand and walk, supported. If I try to sit you down you just hold your legs out straight so I have to put you completely upright. Your favorite place is Henry’s play kitchen, or with his magnet letters on the fridge. It blows my mind that I can just put you down and you are completely content for stretches as long as 30 minutes! I remember wearing Henry in the sling while I cooked dinner and my back was practically broken by the mealtime. Don’t get me wrong, you love to be worn in the sling while I cook (and you nurse)—especially if Henry and I are cooking together— but it’s nice to have some options this time around. You love the Ergo or Mei Tai when we are out of the home, but inside you only tolerate the sling.

This access to a whole world of hand-me-downs is my consolation for reading you maybe 8 books so far in your entire life.

Speaking of words, you say Mama, Dada, doh- (for dog), hiiiii (with a really cute wave), and NO with surprising accuracy. You don’t have a word for Henry yet, but you definitely save your biggest laughs for him. The best moments of my days are those when I look in my rear-view mirror and either see the two of you holding hands or hear you growling back and forth,I can’t really convey it unless on video—and my iphone is old—but Henry growls, then you growl, then he growls, and so on. Adorable. Of course you’re both buckled in. Once the shackles come off, forget it. It’s hard. I remember. I do.

Teeth: You have 2 bottom, 2 top, and 2 gigantic hematomas on top. Your bottom molar spots are, as of today, totally swollen. You got your first teeth at 4.25 months, a couple of weeks earlier than Henry, but your teething pattern has been slower and more unpredictable. Like your top teeth are not the front two, but the side two. I guess that’s nice. I think the teething necklace helps. You certainly don’t drool like I remember. The bibs have stayed in their drawer.

What’s left? Food and sleep. You really aren’t so into solids, my friend. But if given a choice between mac n’ cheese and broccoli, you would choose the latter. No shit. If it’s not breast milk, it better freaking be green!! Favorite foods: peas, broccoli, green beans, asparagus. Least favorite: any fruit. Grains and beans are neutral. I can’t believe it. Only 4 years have passed and the “Super Baby Food” craze is over, as far as I can tell. Now it’s all about “Baby Led Weaning.” I prefer the latter. Meals are less charged with tension. You eat what we eat and if not, oh well!! You don’t care—you’d rather nurse anyway. And that’s where you’d get the best nutrients anyway, duh!! No feeding you first, myself second. You feed yourself. Case closed. Soooo easy. And thank goodness. With two, I can’t see how I’d spoon feed one.

So, yeah, sleep. You wake for the day between 5:30-6:30am. I’ve experimented with locale for your morning nap: bed, stroller, or on my body somewhere. It doesn’t really matter where you are: nap is more often than not 20 minutes long. Therefore, I usually take it to the stroller so I can at least get a decent run in and not lose my mind.

The second nap is always 80 minutes…if I lie with you. If I wear you or try to set you down and leave, it’s between 5-10 minutes. Since you dropped that short third nap, bedtime is around 6-7p these days. You wake to nurse every 40 minutes or so from bedtime until you wake for the day. You can’t be comforted except for a boobie. Luckily most of these are dream feeds. We bedshare, and I’ve readjusted to the fragmented sleep. Don’t get me wrong: I’m freaking exhausted and desperately need to nap when you nap. Thanks to Zoloft I’m able to do it. Although lately my mind is on fire with the sounds of the NICU at night. That’s another post for another day when I have more than a few min to write…

So, Henry, now an update for you. You are 4-years-old. You are in the 90^th percentile for your height and weight, though I can’t remember the exact numbers. (Times have changed.) We had such a magical summer last year, just you and me. You were the center of my world! Now you share an orbit with Arlo. It’s been a really difficult adjustment, for both of us. I was blown away by how easy it seemed for us all until your school let out for the summer. Being together all day, every day, is not easy. That makes me sad. I wanted it to be awesome for everyone. I’d say it’s character building, for sure. But these last three days have just blown my mind in their amazingness. I’m so grateful to get to work through the hard parts with you, together, and get to the other side.

You are really into robots, bats, space, guns (uh), bugs, and trains these days. Geography! You love puzzles of the world— you can tell me all the continents and their animals and what those animals like. Legos, you also love legos. It makes me sad that you don’t like to cuddle and read books all day anymore like you used to, but I guess you do have a brother getting into your shit all the freaking time in the corner over there!! If I get you on a good day you will bake with me. You have an amazing energy that I can’t keep up with sometimes…. Yet you also love to be still and look at birds. You get that from Dad. You school me on birds every day during our runs. I can honestly say I’ve learned more about birds from you than anyone.

Henry, you say so many awesome things every day. I try to keep track of it all. When I don’t have time to write it down, I just hope it lives on in my head long enough to tell you about it when you are older. I have so much more to say, but I want to post this before another month goes by.

I love you boys so much.

Love,

Mama