Adjustments all around

Friday was really a challenging day. Noah was (predictably) off his stride and all he wanted to do was watch Signing Time, which is sort of like his own predictable universe (I think kids his age like books and TV in part because they don’t change so they can puzzle them out).  I didn’t particularly want him to watch more than a half hour of TV, so we were at loggerheads, and even reading the same book 11 times (it was “Caillou’s mealtime” in case you were wondering; he is big into all the books where Caillou rebels) wouldn’t sate his need.

Then he wouldn’t nap.  

After swimming I took him to get milk at the grocery store… he passed out in the grocery cart, like, over the handle.  It was both cute and horrifying at the same time.  I couldn’t figure out what to do with him; I took him out to hold him and he didn’t stir.  Then I was stuck with a cart with a bunch of milk and a melon and 22 lbs of dead weight in my arms.  So finally I put him in the seat part of the cart lying on his back with his legs out the side, and pushed him around and did some things I used to do in grocery stores before I had a kid like… compare labels on cold breakfast cereals, since Noah seems to be on the cusp of getting into that (but that store didn’t have muesli, sigh) and look at new products I have no intention of actually buying.

I got two mummy drive bys for that experience; both Monday quarterbacks thought the babe should be at home if he was that tired. No shit, Sherlock.  I’ll call you the next time I run out of milk and you can pick it up for me. And no, it wasn’t exactly poor planning – I dropped the last bag that would have gotten us to Saturday and it burst, which wasn’t fun either. (And unusual too! They’re generally strong.)

In a small mercy for which I am grateful, the late-afternoon nap did NOT torpedo bedtime and he went down quite well at 7.  He still got up once at night – an excellent night for him really.

I’m still not sure what to do about the whole night wakings thing. And I’m still tired out a bit from the whole nighttime parenting stuff.  My gut says that this will resolve itself if I stick with it – he is learning, incrementally, how to put himself to sleep.  But my tiredness says Solve It Now!

Unfortunately the only way I know of to solve it right now is move towards some variation of cry it out, and I really think that Noah’s personality is whatever type is diametrically opposed to that. For some kids I think it must be a lifesaver. For Noah I think it would be a disaster. But I’m not sure what would work.

~~~

I feel weird about work right now. The meeting on Thursday was good but I feel like there’s a “but…” coming. I think it’s because sitting with the people involved I did get a sense that so much goes on underneath, and I don’t know what it is that’s going on there.  Or maybe it’s because I’m gearing up to say no to extra work, if it’s extended as an offer (looks well like it might be). 

But it could just be me. I still, almost 18 months into this parenting gig, don’t feel at all settled.  In fact, I feel increasingly confused and muddled.  Should I embrace parenting more fully and even consider a sibling? Should I be moving towards full time paid work? Should I be finishing the novel that some days I am convinced is an unmarketable piece of shit and other days I think is just waiting to be sprung on the world? (Well yes, I should, but I mean should I throw my energy into that and let other things slide?)  Should I be trying to find some other more meaningful employment like helping orphans where it’s more understandable to take time away from my kid to improve the world?

Should I run away to Amsterdam? The sad thing right now is I’d have to bring a Pack ‘N Play.

~~~

Noah’s imagination is taking off though and none of the swirling confusion can take that away.  He feeds his Little People animals Cheerios and takes his dolls for drives and puts them to bed. (He also stuffed the  bottom of a Little People person with kiwi, but I’m not sure he was feeding him.) He talks on anything resembling a phone, sometimes like calmly, “doh doh doh, da BA burbleburble” and sometimes like he’s on a conference call “DABABA! Itshtish! DABA-UNGH!”

The other day he handed me the remote for his (long gone) mobile and I pretended to be turning things on with it and he flipped out angrily.  He pointed at me imperiously and finally I pretended to talk on it and then he was all happy. Could I not see it was a PHONE and not a REMOTE. Doofus! 

Yesterday we were playing “feed the hippo” with Noah’s pretend food set and I pretended the hippo hated carrots and Noah just cracked up. He lost it laughing and then we had to play it a million times, switching off who was the hippo. It was hillarious. And the best.