M is for Mmmm

It's been a crazy couple of weeks, let me tell you. We spent a couple of days in Charleston, I survived the first two migraines of this pregnancy, I fought valiently against what seemed like a hopeless work deadline, Quinn threw up four times in one afternoon (only one time in the toilet), and he's decided that he refuses to sleep like he's always done. Yeah, that about covers it. His sleep habits are all out of whack, and I'm not sure why. We had been using a doorknob cover on the inside of his door so he couldn't come out until we were ready for him in the mornings, but for naps, he would sleep fine with the door left open a crack. When he got sick last week, I took off the cover so he could come get me if he got sick again. I guess he liked his taste of freedom. He did fine without it the first couple of days. For the past 4 or 5 days, though, he has been getting up and coming downstairs instead of sleeping. So I told him I had to put back on the doorknob cover. Well, that has added a new element to the nap and bedtime mix: screaming. It has been a struggle to balance leaving his door open with the risk of 40 minutes or more of screaming and crying when we close it. ("Take it off!!") I don't think it's nightmares because he never gets to sleep, and once he does, he's fine. He's already got a couple of his molars, but again, he's not cranky or anything until we close his door, so I don't think that's to blame. I think he just doesn't want his doorknob cover and likes to be able to come and go when it pleases him. Last night was horrible. We fought about staying in bed for over an hour, then he got up screaming at just after midnight, finally came to bed with me (oh, fun), then started getting really squirmy when Jalal got home at 4. I went downstairs to sleep, he followed me, I sent him back upstairs, and he bothered Jalal for the next couple hours. Now Jalal is exhausted, and he has to work all night. I finally grabbed a little nap this afternoon, but now I feel hungover. I hope he gets over this before Maddie comes, or that whole sleeping for two hours at a time with a new baby thing is going to be extra complicated by this little problem.

On a positive note, Quinn is still stinking adorable when he's not driving me up the wall (we're at maybe a 30%/70% mix of cute to "I'm about to lock you in the closet"). Today, the drycleaners gave Quinn a lollipop. He was so happy. She even opened it for him. As we drove away, he tasted it and said, "Mmm, tastes like chocolate milk!" (It was a chocolate Tootsie Roll pop.) Just because it's cute, here's the rest of what he said over the next couple of minutes: M says Mmm, mmm, mmm! Chocolate lollipop. Tastes like chocolate milk! D says De-licious!
Hah! Isn't that great? He cracks me up. He also still sounds like a little old lady half the time. "Oh, dear!" and "It's not quite right" are two of his favorites right now. Anyway, I better go now. It's almost dinner time! Pot roast with extra onions. Yummy! Love, Us.

Everybody's A Critic--Or The Strong-Willed Child

We have a stubborn child. Don't know where he gets that from. I swear (with all the self-awareness I can muster) that I am not that stubborn. Jalal's pretty easygoing, too. So somehow we got a stubborn as a mule kid. Today, when he got up from a nap, I had every good intention of taking him outside to play. We've got sidewalk chalk on the brain right now, and Jalal even drew him a hopscotch court this morning, so I though some drawing and jumping might be in order. Well, he starts off by asking to watch Bob and Larry (VeggieTales movie, for those of you not familiar). I said, wouldn't you rather go outside and play? No, he wants to watch the blueberry (Madame Blueberry). Fine. I take it to put it in the DVD player, and he rushes to take it away from me, saying, "NO!" Fine. (Teeth clenched on that "fine.") Then I say, let's change your diaper and go outside for a little while.
"No, my diaper."
"I know, honey, but we aren't going outside in a dirty diaper."
(Going over to the window and hiding against the wall) "My stinky bobby [b.m.]."
"Well, yeah, I'm not going to claim that one. You can help me change your diaper, okay?"
"No, mys." ("Mys" [m-eye-s] is his word for "Mine")
"Fine, but we aren't going out or watching a movie until we change your diaper."
Captain Distractable wimpers into the window blinds for a while and then finds Lincoln Logs. (Notice the liberal use of the word "Fine." Sometimes I mix it up a little with "whatever" or "I really don't care," but you can tell the gist is the same.)

The other day, Quinn got himself a little worked up before his nap and was having a hard time going to sleep. He was all kinds of hysterical, and I offered to sit down next to his bed for a little while until he calmed down. We haven't had to sit with him in months to get him to sleep, but he was really upset. I started stroking his forehead and singing along with his music. He immediately turned to me and said, "No singing, Mama." Jeez! So I stop singing. Then he starts tugging at his diaper and says he needs a new one. I grab a new diaper and start to change him. He freaks out and tries to grab it. He says, "My diaper. Quinn do it." I told him if he wanted to be so stinking independent, he could go in the potty! I fought him for a minute, tried to let him help, but it wasn't good enough. I finally just changed his diaper against his will. By then, he was screaming his head off again, and I was so frustrated that I couldn't sit there and calm him down. So I just told him to go to sleep and shut his door. He eventually wound down and cried himself to sleep. Did I mention that he was stubborn? Good grief. Anyway, I know I usually offer some cute, funny stuff to balance out the crazy-mama ranting, but I just don't have it in my right now! Maybe tomorrow. Love, Us.

The Ego-stroking Issue

I'm super excited. I just finished eating dinner, which I made. Those of you who know me well know that my "cooking" is usually a craps shoot at best, even if I follow a recipe. Well, tonight, I threw caution to the wind and created a meal from scratch, using my fridge contents as inspiration, and even producing (gasp) a sauce!! Not only did it not suck, but I thought it was pretty good. I'm so stinkin' proud of myself. Granted, my pasta was a little sticky, and the steamed broccoli was a little cold because I am terrible at timing the different elements of a meal, but the hard part turned out great.

Since I'm patting myself on the back, I might as well mention that we've clearly identified Quinn's "love language." Now I don't know too much about the 5 Love Languages, but I have a dear friend (LC) who read the book years ago and always talks about them. I do know that one of the languages is verbal affirmation (or something similar). My dear son has turned verbal affirmation into his true calling, and he boosts his frazzled mother's self-esteem nearly every day with this. I asked him the other day if I could take a nap while he watched a movie. He agreed (and only woke me up once to ask if he could eat a lollipop). When the movie was over, he stroked my head and said, "Good job sleeping Mama!" The next day, I came out of the shower to Quinn saying, "Good job in shower Mama!" Gee, thanks. I've been working on that one for about 25 years. He also clearly doesn't understand what a birthday is. After a not particularly impressive dinner the other day, he said, "This is the best dirtday (birthday) ever!" Huh?

So Maddie's room is coming together nicely. We've been maximizing Jalal's time off and buying the last couple of pieces of furniture we need. Now Quinn has a new dresser, and Maddie has his changing table and a new bookcase. The wonderful women at my church are throwing me a baby shower later this month, so we're trying to hold off on buying anything else. I am just putting clothes away and stocking the changing table with all of the sample diapers we have (I think I've gotten at least a dozen!!) and stuff like that. It's getting so close! She's due 6 weeks from tomorrow. I can't believe it. My doctor's appointment on Friday went great. All my tests look good, and my blood pressure is great (unlike when I was pregnant with Quinn). The downside to all the good news is that it seems we won't get another ultrasound as long as she keeps measuring right on track. Boo. Well, I have to go give a bath to one stinky little boy. Night! Love, Us.

The Mundane and the Sublime

So I was making dinner tonight and remembered this funny story I wanted to write about that happened a day or two before New Year's. Jalal and I went grocery shopping at Bloom. (I can't decide if I was happy about how nicely Quinn behaved or if I was pissed off because he is NEVER that good when I take him grocery shopping. But I digress.) Anyway, we were tooling through the produce section when this older black women walked right around us to a younger black woman a few feet away. She proceeded to ask this stranger if she thought the collard greens the older woman has chosen looked good or not. The younger woman admitted that she had no idea, and Jalal just started laughing to himself. Now I suppose the older woman assumed that we don't eat a lot of collards (true), but we just found it ironic that she had a choice between another black person (who was clearly ignorant about collards) and a professionally trained chef and restaurant manager who could have easily told her if she had chosen the best greens, as well as probably how to prepare them.

The other morning I had a fairly dramatic revelation about the collision between the mundane and the sublime. Now, when I say fairly dramatic, that might be a bit of an overstatement. I mean, my sense of judgment may have been a bit skewed considering it was 2 a.m. I was awake at that time for God knows what reason, but I had terrible heartburn. So I had to go find some extra pillows in the linen closet and prop myself up to a sitting position. And then I got stuck eating all the green (lime) Tums because I had been avoiding them for so long that they were about all that was left in the bottle and I didn't want to turn on the light to find a better flavor. So here I am, wondering why on earth I can't seem to get any sleep just when I need it the most, and Maddie starts squirming and kicking. My first reaction was to wish she would calm down so I could get back to sleep sometime soon. But then I started thinking about how amazing it was that this actual person was inside me, wiggling around and kicking and hiccuping and only 5 pounds! She's completely alive and completely dependent on me for everything. I can't wait to find out what she's like on the outside, but if my experience with Quinn is any indication, she's already showing her personality in there. For instance, despite the pink satin slippers she already owns that are just 2 inches long, she seems to be more Ralph Macchio than Anna Pavlova. There's only 7 weeks left until her due date, and though we are not ready for her yet, I'm so excited to meet her face to face. No matter how little sleep I get because of her, that, my friends, is truly sublime. Love, Us.