Wanna know what makes all the stress even more fun? A trip for the baby to the ER with a temp over 105 and finding out that your 14-month-old has an E. Coli infection.
Awesome
Monday, July 13, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Feeling Lost
I don't know why I feel this overwhelming need to put how I feel into words right now. Especially since this will be the first post in . . . I don't really want to know how long. I'm not going to look. And it will probably be a rather pathetic thing to leave hanging out on the top of the blog until I decide to write again (you know, sometime next year).
But the thing is I'm having a really bad day and someone is just going to have to hear about it. And that means you (if any of you are still out there).
When O was small (am I really still bothering not putting in names? WHO CARES! Oh wait, I didn't want my family to find this so yes I am still bothering), I was really good at keeping things organized with him. Not like I went out of my way and was anal at organizing, I just tend to generally BE organized. I had a routine of washing bottles, packing lunches, whatever. Everything was always ready to go the next morning. I listened (seriously, always listened) to everything O said to me (and K too for that matter). I was always at work when I was supposed to be. I am (oh wait, WAS) really good at my job. Like I said, I'm organized, really efficient, could remember everything even if I didn't write it down. After a certain amount of time, I really felt like I had the daily routine down. Everything just worked and our days went pretty smoothly. At least, that's how I remember it.
And now I feel like I'm just in the twilight zone somewhere. Bedtimes are taking us like 2 hours to complete. I really feel like this is excessive (ok OBVIOUSLY that's excessive) but I don't know how to make it work. It's like I'm in a daze and I'll go into O's room and think "hey why don't I just pick up some of these cars for 5 minutes while I wait for him to go to the bathroom and wash his hands" and then suddenly I'm cleaning his room at it is 9pm. Every morning there is the mad rush to get everyone breakfast and drinks and pack their bags. And every morning I say to myself "all of this is stuff we could have done last night". But every night I get out of O's room late and all I can do is eat chocolate and go to bed. I'm completely unmotivated to clean anything. Our laundry (hahahaha!!! the laundry) . . . never mind. I'm not even going there. If it wasn't bad enough that our house is trashed, now we're talking about moving. I can't even fathom how we would begin to get our house ready to put on the market right now. I tune out of conversations which makes me feel like a jerk. I thought I was having a conversation about motorcycles the other night but when I really tuned in I realized it was about Power Rangers and was rapidly delving into a full scale investigation of good vs evil and my deep responses consisted of "yes" "mm-hhm" and "no, I didn't know that!". But I'm not really sure what I was responding to so who KNOWS what I just told my 4-year-old? Who also (I realized belatedly) thinks that Power Rangers are swords and not people. We regularly forget "water day" so O doesn't have a swim suit or towel when all the other kids do. So then he gets wet in his clothes and has to borrow school's extra underpants and t-shirt and, of course, they're out of shorts. I can't even remember to pack a drink in his lunch since they don't serve milk in the summer. Hell we've actually forgotten to even pack a lunch period. Really - lunch is an EVERY DAY thing. You'd think we would catch on to that one.
I always took pride in the fact that I'm really good at my job. Unfortunately, in our busy office, if you don't looked swamped you're going to get more work. So now I have double (in some cases triple) the average work load. Which would actually be ok with me except that this haze has me forgetting things. I'm catching them all but I know it's only a matter of time before I drop the ball on something big. Just last week I almost forgot to make a phone call. Big deal - one phone call right? But if I had actually completely forgotten it would have cost a customer in excess of $80,000. I'm dealing with large dollar issues now and slacking off can mean major disaster. Normally I think I'd be game for this but I'm starting to not trust myself. The bitch of it all is that my favorite things about my job are slowly disappearing. The biggest perk of this job was that it allowed me to always make my family a priority. Kids are sick? see you tomorrow. Dentist appt? no problem. I left at 5 done for the day and my weekends were mine. And now all through Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas are haulers and farmers and plant operators with my phone number who have no qualms calling me at 2am because there is a problem that could have at least waited until 6am. Today it just came crashing down on me when I got a called from A's daycare. She's been sick since Saturday. She was fine yesterday though so she went to daycare today and then promptly decided to be feverish again. I got the call and immediately stood up to go get her. Then I realized I can't. I have things that cannot sit. There are reasons that I absolutely have to be here.
And I absolutely hate that.
But the thing is I'm having a really bad day and someone is just going to have to hear about it. And that means you (if any of you are still out there).
When O was small (am I really still bothering not putting in names? WHO CARES! Oh wait, I didn't want my family to find this so yes I am still bothering), I was really good at keeping things organized with him. Not like I went out of my way and was anal at organizing, I just tend to generally BE organized. I had a routine of washing bottles, packing lunches, whatever. Everything was always ready to go the next morning. I listened (seriously, always listened) to everything O said to me (and K too for that matter). I was always at work when I was supposed to be. I am (oh wait, WAS) really good at my job. Like I said, I'm organized, really efficient, could remember everything even if I didn't write it down. After a certain amount of time, I really felt like I had the daily routine down. Everything just worked and our days went pretty smoothly. At least, that's how I remember it.
And now I feel like I'm just in the twilight zone somewhere. Bedtimes are taking us like 2 hours to complete. I really feel like this is excessive (ok OBVIOUSLY that's excessive) but I don't know how to make it work. It's like I'm in a daze and I'll go into O's room and think "hey why don't I just pick up some of these cars for 5 minutes while I wait for him to go to the bathroom and wash his hands" and then suddenly I'm cleaning his room at it is 9pm. Every morning there is the mad rush to get everyone breakfast and drinks and pack their bags. And every morning I say to myself "all of this is stuff we could have done last night". But every night I get out of O's room late and all I can do is eat chocolate and go to bed. I'm completely unmotivated to clean anything. Our laundry (hahahaha!!! the laundry) . . . never mind. I'm not even going there. If it wasn't bad enough that our house is trashed, now we're talking about moving. I can't even fathom how we would begin to get our house ready to put on the market right now. I tune out of conversations which makes me feel like a jerk. I thought I was having a conversation about motorcycles the other night but when I really tuned in I realized it was about Power Rangers and was rapidly delving into a full scale investigation of good vs evil and my deep responses consisted of "yes" "mm-hhm" and "no, I didn't know that!". But I'm not really sure what I was responding to so who KNOWS what I just told my 4-year-old? Who also (I realized belatedly) thinks that Power Rangers are swords and not people. We regularly forget "water day" so O doesn't have a swim suit or towel when all the other kids do. So then he gets wet in his clothes and has to borrow school's extra underpants and t-shirt and, of course, they're out of shorts. I can't even remember to pack a drink in his lunch since they don't serve milk in the summer. Hell we've actually forgotten to even pack a lunch period. Really - lunch is an EVERY DAY thing. You'd think we would catch on to that one.
I always took pride in the fact that I'm really good at my job. Unfortunately, in our busy office, if you don't looked swamped you're going to get more work. So now I have double (in some cases triple) the average work load. Which would actually be ok with me except that this haze has me forgetting things. I'm catching them all but I know it's only a matter of time before I drop the ball on something big. Just last week I almost forgot to make a phone call. Big deal - one phone call right? But if I had actually completely forgotten it would have cost a customer in excess of $80,000. I'm dealing with large dollar issues now and slacking off can mean major disaster. Normally I think I'd be game for this but I'm starting to not trust myself. The bitch of it all is that my favorite things about my job are slowly disappearing. The biggest perk of this job was that it allowed me to always make my family a priority. Kids are sick? see you tomorrow. Dentist appt? no problem. I left at 5 done for the day and my weekends were mine. And now all through Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas are haulers and farmers and plant operators with my phone number who have no qualms calling me at 2am because there is a problem that could have at least waited until 6am. Today it just came crashing down on me when I got a called from A's daycare. She's been sick since Saturday. She was fine yesterday though so she went to daycare today and then promptly decided to be feverish again. I got the call and immediately stood up to go get her. Then I realized I can't. I have things that cannot sit. There are reasons that I absolutely have to be here.
And I absolutely hate that.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Spending Money
So now that all that heavy crap is out of the way can I please just say SOMEONE GET ME OFF OF ETSY. I've known about it forever, I looked all the time but I finally bought something the other day and now it's like I CAN'T STOP.
I've even thought about starting my own shop. You know, because I have so much time to sit around sewing right now.
I've even thought about starting my own shop. You know, because I have so much time to sit around sewing right now.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Recipients of a Miracle
I've put off writing this post for forever hence the empty days. At first, I didn't know if it was something I wanted/could share at all. Then I didn't know how. And now I'm forgetting so many details that I want to put some of them down somewhere.
At 11:30pm Wednesday April 1st, I got a phone call from my older sister. My dad had called an ambulance and my mom was now at a nearby hospital. She hadn't been breathing and my dad had done CPR. That was all she knew to tell me. My mom. 58 years old. In perfect health. We didn't know how bad it would be but we knew we were going to the hospital. I told K to stay home with the kids. I'd call him and let him know what was going on. We were at the hospital a little after midnight, my older sister and I. I saw one of my younger sisters walking towards us from the emergency room, then I saw my dad. My younger sister was in tears, my dad in a daze. He pointed out her room to me and I went in. I remember her being on a ventilator and I remember that her blood pressure, now the highest it had been for over an hour, was still only 72/40.
They were just about ready to move her to the ICU so we were shown to the waiting room there. At about 1:30 am, two nurses and a doctor came to explain to us that my mother had stopped breathing. Between my father and the EMTs, she had had CPR performed for over an hour and had not taken a breath on her own for at least that long. When the EMTs arrived, her pulse was less than 20 beats a minute. At some point she had had no pulse of her own for over 20 minutes. She coded in the ambulance. The situation was dire they said. We would have to make the decision of whether or not to resuscitate her should anything happen again. Without oxygen for so long, the brain damage should be extensive. She was showing absolutely no response to any stimuli - no pupil dilation, no reaction to pain. We could have them look into the cause over the next few days, if we chose. We could have a neurologist look at her, if we chose. The message was pretty clear - your mother is going to die. We'll wait for your other sister to arrive from out-of-town and then decisions will have to be made. I asked the doctor later if we could have a neurologist see my mom in the morning - just to know. She nodded and said basically that that was fine if it would make us feel better. We sat in my mom's room, playing music, holding her hand and watching her seize for hours. I wondered over and over how I would tell my son that his grandma, the center of his universe, was gone. I wondered how I would even call my office and what would I say?
And all that while, people - friends and family - by the dozens began to show up at the hospital to wait with us through the night. By the following afternoon, we were receiving calls, emails, visitors by the hundreds and prayers, literally by the thousands, were going up for my mom.
The next morning a neurologist saw her. Her eyes had begun to dilate so we should wait 24 hours to see what happens.
Normally the ICU has limitations on visitors. But this hospital is still sure there isn't a chance and they are allowing everyone, more people than I can count by now, come in to tell my mom how much they love her.
I know enough to know that my mother's seizing means that she should have extensive damage to her brain stem. I am worried that, even if she survives, should could be on that vent for the rest of her life. She could be in bed the rest of her life and we all know that this is her worst nightmare.
Thursday night, my youngest sister and I spend the night in the hospital. Just the two of us and mom, while others pace the hallways and go home for much needed sleep. I still can't get over the most horrible stomachache I've ever had and find myself crying at random times without realizing I ever started. My mom flails in her sleep and I start to realize that it happens in tandem with when my sister grills her for answers, we tell her funny stories, or my sister demands she wake up. Then, the first of so many miracles, my mother opens her eyes for the first time. Her nurse, a man I will love dearly for the rest of my life, ran to her side, held her hand and explained where she was. She was asleep again moments later but I will be forever grateful for his kindness and gentleness with her.
But still the situation is dire. She won't open her eyes on command, her EKG looks bad, they can't find the cause so they don't know if there is something to fix. She isn't reacting to pain, she isn't breathing on her own, her lung collapsed and they need to put in a chest tube . . . this list goes on and on. At some point on Friday (Saturday? who knows) I fall asleep on the waiting room floor and my husband wakes me in the middle of the night to tell me that he told my mother to lift her arm and she did. Amazing that this seems like the greatest news I've ever heard. Still the doctors are cautious. It could be chance, coincidence. It could mean nothing. But at this point, we're all bound and determined that things will turn out fine.
My mom woke up for good one morning. My biggest prayer was that she would remember us all and you cannot imagine the feeling when she did.
One month and four days ago, my mom should have been lost
One week and 3 days ago she came home.
In this time we've watched her wake up, start breathing on her own, learn to walk, learn to feed herself, still struggle to write her name. Her short term memory is . . . well, not so great. She needs 24-hour-a-day supervision (which we're only too happy to provide). She remembers her grandbabies all born within the last 5 years but she thinks that we're all at least 6 years younger than we are. When she woke up, she thought it was the 90's and Clinton was president. Her nurse asked her how old I was and she guessed "25? 26? 27? 28? SHUT UP YOU ARE NOT THAT OLD!" (I'm 30 for anyone who's interested).
It's been a roller coaster. There are still a lot of hurdles left and a lot of unanswered questions. Will she ever work? Will she ever be able to hold the squirmy babies? Hell, will she ever be able to just make a pot of coffee without having to work so hard to remember what order to do things in?
But all that aside, her personality, those particular quirks that make her MY mom, are all intact. She remembers us. She's home. God willing, she'll be here for more weddings, more babies, more birthday parties.
And I can't even begin to tell you how incredibly blessed we feel.
At 11:30pm Wednesday April 1st, I got a phone call from my older sister. My dad had called an ambulance and my mom was now at a nearby hospital. She hadn't been breathing and my dad had done CPR. That was all she knew to tell me. My mom. 58 years old. In perfect health. We didn't know how bad it would be but we knew we were going to the hospital. I told K to stay home with the kids. I'd call him and let him know what was going on. We were at the hospital a little after midnight, my older sister and I. I saw one of my younger sisters walking towards us from the emergency room, then I saw my dad. My younger sister was in tears, my dad in a daze. He pointed out her room to me and I went in. I remember her being on a ventilator and I remember that her blood pressure, now the highest it had been for over an hour, was still only 72/40.
They were just about ready to move her to the ICU so we were shown to the waiting room there. At about 1:30 am, two nurses and a doctor came to explain to us that my mother had stopped breathing. Between my father and the EMTs, she had had CPR performed for over an hour and had not taken a breath on her own for at least that long. When the EMTs arrived, her pulse was less than 20 beats a minute. At some point she had had no pulse of her own for over 20 minutes. She coded in the ambulance. The situation was dire they said. We would have to make the decision of whether or not to resuscitate her should anything happen again. Without oxygen for so long, the brain damage should be extensive. She was showing absolutely no response to any stimuli - no pupil dilation, no reaction to pain. We could have them look into the cause over the next few days, if we chose. We could have a neurologist look at her, if we chose. The message was pretty clear - your mother is going to die. We'll wait for your other sister to arrive from out-of-town and then decisions will have to be made. I asked the doctor later if we could have a neurologist see my mom in the morning - just to know. She nodded and said basically that that was fine if it would make us feel better. We sat in my mom's room, playing music, holding her hand and watching her seize for hours. I wondered over and over how I would tell my son that his grandma, the center of his universe, was gone. I wondered how I would even call my office and what would I say?
And all that while, people - friends and family - by the dozens began to show up at the hospital to wait with us through the night. By the following afternoon, we were receiving calls, emails, visitors by the hundreds and prayers, literally by the thousands, were going up for my mom.
The next morning a neurologist saw her. Her eyes had begun to dilate so we should wait 24 hours to see what happens.
Normally the ICU has limitations on visitors. But this hospital is still sure there isn't a chance and they are allowing everyone, more people than I can count by now, come in to tell my mom how much they love her.
I know enough to know that my mother's seizing means that she should have extensive damage to her brain stem. I am worried that, even if she survives, should could be on that vent for the rest of her life. She could be in bed the rest of her life and we all know that this is her worst nightmare.
Thursday night, my youngest sister and I spend the night in the hospital. Just the two of us and mom, while others pace the hallways and go home for much needed sleep. I still can't get over the most horrible stomachache I've ever had and find myself crying at random times without realizing I ever started. My mom flails in her sleep and I start to realize that it happens in tandem with when my sister grills her for answers, we tell her funny stories, or my sister demands she wake up. Then, the first of so many miracles, my mother opens her eyes for the first time. Her nurse, a man I will love dearly for the rest of my life, ran to her side, held her hand and explained where she was. She was asleep again moments later but I will be forever grateful for his kindness and gentleness with her.
But still the situation is dire. She won't open her eyes on command, her EKG looks bad, they can't find the cause so they don't know if there is something to fix. She isn't reacting to pain, she isn't breathing on her own, her lung collapsed and they need to put in a chest tube . . . this list goes on and on. At some point on Friday (Saturday? who knows) I fall asleep on the waiting room floor and my husband wakes me in the middle of the night to tell me that he told my mother to lift her arm and she did. Amazing that this seems like the greatest news I've ever heard. Still the doctors are cautious. It could be chance, coincidence. It could mean nothing. But at this point, we're all bound and determined that things will turn out fine.
My mom woke up for good one morning. My biggest prayer was that she would remember us all and you cannot imagine the feeling when she did.
One month and four days ago, my mom should have been lost
One week and 3 days ago she came home.
In this time we've watched her wake up, start breathing on her own, learn to walk, learn to feed herself, still struggle to write her name. Her short term memory is . . . well, not so great. She needs 24-hour-a-day supervision (which we're only too happy to provide). She remembers her grandbabies all born within the last 5 years but she thinks that we're all at least 6 years younger than we are. When she woke up, she thought it was the 90's and Clinton was president. Her nurse asked her how old I was and she guessed "25? 26? 27? 28? SHUT UP YOU ARE NOT THAT OLD!" (I'm 30 for anyone who's interested).
It's been a roller coaster. There are still a lot of hurdles left and a lot of unanswered questions. Will she ever work? Will she ever be able to hold the squirmy babies? Hell, will she ever be able to just make a pot of coffee without having to work so hard to remember what order to do things in?
But all that aside, her personality, those particular quirks that make her MY mom, are all intact. She remembers us. She's home. God willing, she'll be here for more weddings, more babies, more birthday parties.
And I can't even begin to tell you how incredibly blessed we feel.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Second Verse Same As The First
I feel so lame. blah blah tired, blah blah busy. who cares!
We're still not sleeping which reminds me - I've been meaning to apologize for a while about that last post. I know I said that crying it out sucks and looking back I thought it sounded a bit nasty. I should have said that CIO sucks FOR ME. I have no issue with it whatsoever outside of the fact that I simply can not do it. And part of me wishes I could. I guess my big fear is that there might actually be something wrong and I feel like a jerk making a baby just get over itself so I can get some sleep. I mean, what if Bea's teeth really are that bad? What if her stuffy nose really is making her that miserable?
So I'm a sucka.
Which leads to the only real news going on in our house . . .
We're busy, crazy, have a 1 and 4-year-old. Things are madness around here. Could there be a more perfect time to add a NEW DOG in to the mix?!?!?!? Of course not.
We're having a home visit with this puppy tomorrow night. Basically, if O likes him, he stays. I've already met him and he is the most serious, formal little puppy ever.
This puppy has not actually been adopted yet so anyone with an opinion has 29 hours to give me some really good reasons to come to my senses (or better yet send me stories about why it is sooooo much more fun to have 2 dogs - especially when they're both over 90 pounds). Otherwise, stay tuned Monday for the verdict and all the shoe chewing, couch peed on, stuffed animals maimed stories that could possibly ensue.
Friday, February 20, 2009
On Why We're Not Sleeping
So our "12 Hour Straight A Night Sleeper" has become our "2 Hours Straight A Night Sleeper" (also known as our "Despair Inducing Night Interrupter"). In short it sucks but really the reasons for it all fall into the Things That Are Good But Unfortunately Suck category.
The first reason is teeth. We really didn't see this coming because O could have cared less about teething. I knew there were terrible teethers out there but, for some reason, it never occurred to me that we might have one. Teeth = Cute and GOOD thing. Pain that keeps baby awake =Thing That Sucks.
The second is seasonal crap - known individually as colds, flus, etc etc we now just lump them into one collective term. So when we discuss it, I no longer think "she has a cold", I think "she has the seasonal crap". Now, this isn't actually the reason she no longers sleeps - they just lead to the REAL reason she no longer sleeps. And that is this: Her father is a SUCKER. She has gas, a stuffy nose, is fussing for no real reason and he goes in to hold her. I would do the same. The difference is that HE passes out in the recliner or brings her into our room (which Oh Holy Moly I would have gotten in to trouble for with O but it is just fine for this little princess). Now she just wants to be held all night. Now affection and cuddling = GOOD thing. Not sleeping because there are no arms = Thing That Sucks.
Thing the THIRD (and really this one deserves all caps because it is a BIG thing) - new daycare! Amen and Hallelujah! (*Cue choir of angels singing) We switched daycares. We'd been looking and looking hoping to find Someplace Great. We had someplace fine but we thought there must be something better out there and lo and behold we were right for once. This opportunity fell into our lap - my mother's old teacher's aide opened a home daycare. Home daycares squigg me out a bit so it was an option we avoided in the past but we know many, many people who knew her, I'd known her as a child, we had a ton of references given to us before we'd even asked and everyone in the world loves her. So we went, met her and signed on immediately. She is a saint and we adore her and the whole set up. Can you tell we're really happy about the whole arrangement? OVER THE MOON I tell you. However, upset in schedule and new people and places means goofed up sleep at night. This would have been a temporary thing but see above for the explanation of how daddy is a SUCKER. So New Daycare = Things that is REALLY Good. Upset Schedule (and too sympathetic daddy) = Thing That Sucks
Thing #4 - new daycare means that OMG this woman actually knows how to put children down for a nap where, get this, they actually SLEEP. WHOOT! So now Bea likes to play at night instead of passing out as soon as she gets home. This is a very good thing obviously. So Nap = Thing That is (very very) Good. Wants to Party at 1am because she isn't used to getting the amount of sleep she should = Thing that Sucks (although 1 am peek-a-boo is rather entertaining and I love how she's always surprised to see me when she peeks her head up over her dad's shoulder).
We're working on all this. I can't cry-it-out. I hate it and it sucks and I don't give a flying rat's a$s crack if it works. We're making sure she's awake when we lay her down (much later than she used to go down). We're rocking until she acts sleepy and then patting her in her crib (but man do I miss snuffling a sleeping baby's neck in the dark). It's getting better and I'm sure, that by the time SHE is four, she'll be sleeping like a champ. Our expectations for sleep are low. We'll make it up when they move out (which they apparently never will - O swears that he is going to live with me forever every time he throws his arms around my neck but I'm not getting up to make him breakfast when he's 30 so we're cool).
The first reason is teeth. We really didn't see this coming because O could have cared less about teething. I knew there were terrible teethers out there but, for some reason, it never occurred to me that we might have one. Teeth = Cute and GOOD thing. Pain that keeps baby awake =Thing That Sucks.
The second is seasonal crap - known individually as colds, flus, etc etc we now just lump them into one collective term. So when we discuss it, I no longer think "she has a cold", I think "she has the seasonal crap". Now, this isn't actually the reason she no longers sleeps - they just lead to the REAL reason she no longer sleeps. And that is this: Her father is a SUCKER. She has gas, a stuffy nose, is fussing for no real reason and he goes in to hold her. I would do the same. The difference is that HE passes out in the recliner or brings her into our room (which Oh Holy Moly I would have gotten in to trouble for with O but it is just fine for this little princess). Now she just wants to be held all night. Now affection and cuddling = GOOD thing. Not sleeping because there are no arms = Thing That Sucks.
Thing the THIRD (and really this one deserves all caps because it is a BIG thing) - new daycare! Amen and Hallelujah! (*Cue choir of angels singing) We switched daycares. We'd been looking and looking hoping to find Someplace Great. We had someplace fine but we thought there must be something better out there and lo and behold we were right for once. This opportunity fell into our lap - my mother's old teacher's aide opened a home daycare. Home daycares squigg me out a bit so it was an option we avoided in the past but we know many, many people who knew her, I'd known her as a child, we had a ton of references given to us before we'd even asked and everyone in the world loves her. So we went, met her and signed on immediately. She is a saint and we adore her and the whole set up. Can you tell we're really happy about the whole arrangement? OVER THE MOON I tell you. However, upset in schedule and new people and places means goofed up sleep at night. This would have been a temporary thing but see above for the explanation of how daddy is a SUCKER. So New Daycare = Things that is REALLY Good. Upset Schedule (and too sympathetic daddy) = Thing That Sucks
Thing #4 - new daycare means that OMG this woman actually knows how to put children down for a nap where, get this, they actually SLEEP. WHOOT! So now Bea likes to play at night instead of passing out as soon as she gets home. This is a very good thing obviously. So Nap = Thing That is (very very) Good. Wants to Party at 1am because she isn't used to getting the amount of sleep she should = Thing that Sucks (although 1 am peek-a-boo is rather entertaining and I love how she's always surprised to see me when she peeks her head up over her dad's shoulder).
We're working on all this. I can't cry-it-out. I hate it and it sucks and I don't give a flying rat's a$s crack if it works. We're making sure she's awake when we lay her down (much later than she used to go down). We're rocking until she acts sleepy and then patting her in her crib (but man do I miss snuffling a sleeping baby's neck in the dark). It's getting better and I'm sure, that by the time SHE is four, she'll be sleeping like a champ. Our expectations for sleep are low. We'll make it up when they move out (which they apparently never will - O swears that he is going to live with me forever every time he throws his arms around my neck but I'm not getting up to make him breakfast when he's 30 so we're cool).
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