A confession and a half: I wish he'd watch TV

I know, I know...TV is evil...if I were a better person I wouldn't even OWN a TV...shouldn't I be playing with my child...and so on.  Bring on the judgement.

But I do play with my child.  Constantly.  He's down to only a 45 minute nap a day.  That mean's it's me and him for about 11 hours every day.  I've given up on the gym after day three of constant screaming.  I just need a little time to myself.

Just a bit.  A half hour show a day?  That's not asking too much, right?  It (probably) won't turn him into a future couch potato.

But, unlike his mother, he's not yet into the tube.  He'll watch a few minutes of The Wiggles or Signing Time, but then there is much more interesting things to do - pull books off shelves, chase the dogs, scream.

Give in, Finn, TV is magical.  Pull up a chair!  I'll even show you Barney (yes...I'm that desperate).

Are you the adult you’d thought you’d be?

Sometimes I have this vision in my head of adult me.

She’s delightful, I have to tell you. Her house is clean, she’s well put together – groomed and dressed, she cooks delicious meals, her time management is amazing, and she is always sweet and happy with her husband and child.

I keep waiting to grow up and be her.

But then I realize that I am grown up and I am nothing like that. And when I start to compare us, I don’t look so good.

My house is a mess. It was never that neat, but the addition of a toddler means it always looks like you’ve walked in in the middle of a robbery. And I’m being robbed by people who rolled in mud and dog hair before they came into your house.

There are (many) days when my version of dressed is most people’s version of pajamas. Make-up and done hair? Not so often.

I hate cooking dinner. I do it, but it’s not pretty. And I really struggle to come up with something healthy and well balanced.

I feel like I can’t get anything done. I run around all day, but have I finished my Christmas thank you cards? Managed to get the enormous laundry pile under control? Not so much.

And, finally, I am often snappish and a little mean to Kevin and frustrated with the little one.

I don’t know how to become the woman I want to be. Sometimes I feel like everyone has it down but me. Or is everyone faking it?

This is not me.

A year in review

My baby is one, which seems unreal. This year has been both the longest and the quickest of my life. I am an entirely different person than I was a year ago. Finn is my first priority, and he affects everything I do from the big to the small and is now the person I spend about 95% of every day focused on.

This year has had the highest highs and the lowest lows. I was completely unprepared for how intense it was going to be.

On the up up upside, I adore my son. I didn’t know that it was possible to love someone this much. I put him before myself every time and it’s usually pretty easy to do. He has a sweet spirit, loves to dance, and has an amazing laugh. It is incredible watching him become this little person. I know I am blessed to be able to stay home with him and I love the intimacy of our relationship.

But there has been a dark side of becoming a mother for me that I did not expect and am still really struggling with. There are times where I don’t think I can get through another minute and at the same time I can see the days and nights and days and nights of taking care of him stretching out endlessly in front of me. Times where I feel like a husk of a person, that I have been crushed, worn down to a powder by his endless endless needs.

And although these times have gotten fewer and farther between as he has gotten older, they have also gotten more difficult because I feel like at this point I should have it down and shouldn’t still be struggling. And it is hard because I often feel so alone. I don’t really hear other moms talking about their difficulties and it’s hard to say “do you ever just hate being a mother” and while my husband tries, I really don’t feel like this is a burden we share, I feel like it’s one I carry alone.

I hate to complain too much, except jokingly, because I feel like something bad will happen and it will be my fault because I didn’t appreciate how good I had it.

So this is me warding off the evil eye. I love my son and would not trade having him for anything, I just wish he came with a little more sleep and the ability to use the bathroom without his company.

Confession #3 - I have realized I have no control over anything

This is my new realization.

Nothing I do matters or makes any difference in terms of Finn's behavior, and especially with his sleep.

It's a little disheartening, although potentially freeing, if I can just really make myself believe it.

Some nights (a lot of nights) he is up every 45 minutes.  Pretty much all night.

Yeah, it's a good time.

Other nights he sleeps great (for him, which means he's only up every few hours - it's all relative people).

I have read every book every written on baby sleep.  I have talked to other moms.  I have posted on message boards.  I have changed and changed again: what I eat, what he eats, vitamins I take, what he drinks, when he sleeps, where he sleeps, how I put him to sleep, and on and on and on.

And, in the end, the good and bad nights just seem totally random.

After he has a good night I go over and over the day that led up to it.  But I can recreate it exactly and he still will not sleep the next night.

So, I am giving up.  He will sleep eventually, right?

Confession #2: My baby has emo hair

Finn's hair is getting out of control.


It just gets longer and longer, and I am powerless to do anything to stop it.


He's developing a distinct resemblance to Donald Trump.



Except after his nap, when he looks like Trump caught in a windtunnel.

He needs a haircut, I know. But I can't bring myself to pay someone else to do it (plus that just seems like something that's going to end with baby screaming) and I am worried if I do it myself he's going to look either sad or funny, since I can't really cut hair.

So I just let it keep growing, and hope this is somehow a problem that resolves itself. You know, as some things do.

Perhaps in a few months I will be able to do these pictures with some 80s hairband members. He just needs a tiny sweatband to keep it out of his eyes.

Today's Confessions: The baby sleeps with us

Moms constantly ask each other how the baby is sleeping. Is he sleeping through the night? Still waking up at night? How many times? When does he go to sleep? And on and on and on.

I understand why. Sleep is magical. It is a balm for everything that happens in a day and it never seems quite so important as when you're not getting it.

That being said, I never know quite what to say when people quiz me about Finn's sleeping habits. I will be cagey for a while before I sheepishly admit that he sleeps with us...in our bed.


I know. Shocking.


Apparently he will NEVER EVER LEAVE. And he will NEVER EVER learn to fall asleep on his own. Or so people like to tell me.


It's practically child abuse.

But that's not even my real confession. The real dirt is that I LOVE having him sleeping with us. Yes, there are days when he's up all night and it sucks and I feel like I can't move or talk or go to the bathroom in case I wake him up. But mainly I get to cuddle with him and see his little moon face and have him wake me up by blowing raspberries on my arm and laughing. Plus I don't have to get out of bed and wander down the hall to him.

At this point, I can't imagine having him sleep anywhere else. I remember being completely terrified of nighttime as a child and desperately wanting to sleep with my parents. I don't want Finn to feel like that.

So, yes, I am sure at some point he will move into his own room, but no, I have no idea when that will be. For now the answer to "How is he sleeping?" is "With me!"