Alive, Barely
I always have these great posts (or not so great, but at least rambly) written in my head, but when do I have the time to sit at the computer and write them? Elsa’s very favorite thing in the world is to come over and turn off my laptop. I guess she likes the light and likes knowing that her actions have an effect.
We had a hell of a night last night. Elsa has had a little cold and hasn’t been sleeping well. Last night was probably the worst night we’ve ever had with her. She was just screaming and screaming and screaming in pain. I couldn’t get her to nurse or eat anything. Getting medicine down her was impossible. Getting her to sleep was impossible. She would sort of be quiet while watching her baby crack (Baby Einstein; they may not be educational, but they work wonders at making babies happy), but it was too exciting to put her to sleep. Finally at 2 in the freaking morning I put on some pants and slippers and loaded her into the car. I didn’t even put a bra on, so I was really hoping I wouldn’t get in an accident. I drove and drove and she finally fell asleep. I drove some more just to make it stick, but the minute I pulled into our spot and stopped the motor she was wide awake and even more crazy since she’d had a 10 minute respite.
I had to pull out the big guns and get Mike to help. He was sleeping with Erik since he has work today and really wanted a good night’s sleep. He did his magic, but even that didn’t help much. He got her down after awhile and we all breathed a sigh of relief. The breathing was enough to wake her up again, but this time she saw her daddy. Daddy! Yay!!!! PLAY TIME!!!!!
I’ve never seen her in overdrive. It was a common occurrence with Erik since he was so anti-sleep. When babies get over tired, they get a second wind and basically go batshit crazy with the fun playing. It was 3 in the morning and we were so, so tired, but we couldn’t help laughing at a baby that was acting like she’d just taken a double overdose of speed.
Finally, finally, finally Mike worked his magic again and she was down for the count.
Then it all came crashing down at 8 am when Erik came in the room, turned on the light and told me he wanted to look at my face.
Ahhhhh, how sweet. The child wants to look at his beautiful mother that he loves.
Ha!
“Ok, mommy. Look here. You have wrinkles, redness and fine lines. You need to go watch the commercial I’m watching and order the stuff to make wrinkles go away.”
Gee, thanks kid.
In general Elsa is such a lovely, easy baby. Even when she’s up late at night we can’t get too frustrated. With Erik you knew you were in trouble when he opened his mouth and the wails started. He could keep that up for hours. With Elsa you know you are in trouble if she opens her eyes and smiles. Once she smiles she’s awake and awake for good.
What else?
They had a new karate teacher on Thursday and I kept thinking about a combination of Barney the dinosaur and Brad, the gay boyfriend from The Middle. He acted like Barney. He looked like the gay boyfriend.
I wanted to like him. The kids LOVED him. He knew how to motivate them and make everything seem like FUN FUN FUN FUN!!! WHOO-HOOOO!
But. . .
Ugh. He was just so smarmy. Maybe I’m jaded?
The kids were in line to do a kick and he skipped about four kids (including Erik). Erik tried to tell him, but he totally cut him off and wouldn’t listen. Usually the karate teachers listen and they would not have skipped any kids.
He didn’t bother to learn a single name.
Usually the first thing the teachers do is ask all the kids their names and then make every effort to learn them and use them.
The other teachers may not have that preschool methodology know-how, but at least I feel like they care about the kids. No one really explained why this new guy was there. The old teacher was also there, observing. I am hoping he was just training the old teacher on teaching methods, otherwise I may have to have a chat with the owner. It is not ok to skip kids in any activity. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen it happen in the six months we’ve been there.
I just keep picturing this guy going to the back alley after class and lighting up a big cig while hiring a whore.
I had a burst of cleaning urges yesterday, something so rare it must be acted on immediately lest the desire slip away. I totally cleaned our worst bathroom, and even went over everything with the steamer. I went through a lot of my clothes, I went through all of Elsa’s clothes, I vacuumed. It was sort of amazing.
Can I just say, people are crazy? I freecycled a bunch of Elsa’s old clothes. I had so many that they wouldn’t fit into one bag, so I divided it up into two bags, by size. I offered them up with a detailed description and an explanation that you only get one bag.
I had people asking me to send pictures, asking for a list of brands included, asking me to just pull out certain styles for them, saying they wanted both bags, asking me to call them back so they could discuss it.
What the hell, freecycle? That’s not how freecycle works. You see something you want, you read the conditions, you e-mail with any information the giver wants, you pick the stuff up and hope you like it. If not, you freecycle it or throw it away (if it is something disgusting that people shouldn’t be freecyling).
I only had two people follow my instructions (tell me an approx time, date and what bag they wanted, so not exactly rocket science) so luckily those two people wanted different bags. The other people missed the boat because all the clothes were stain free, modern and cute. Some were practically brand new.
Ok, I gotta go suck out Elsa’s snot. Isn’t that a lovely image? She was terrified of the battery operated snot sucker, but now she brings it to me and holds up her head so I can reach her nose. I guess she figured out it makes her feel better.
If only I can sneak some medicine into her. . .