Diary of a Mom: Sleep 'Training' Edition

So we have all read the books, watched the videos, overheard the mom who brags about her success with training her baby to sleep. I am not a first time parent, yet many days I completely forget everything I once 'learned' about motherhood from my first born, as I'm lulled into dreamland by the gentle coos of my 7 month old falling asleep on my arm, head nestled against my shoulder.

On Day 1 of the decision to craft some semblance of a schedule for our precious bundle, its all good. I wake with a purpose, dedication to the mission, and images of going to sleep in my own bed. Spacing daytime feeds out to 4 hour intervals can't be that hard, right? Step 1 seems like a breeze.

By the end of the 1st day we're in one piece, baby is satiated, finished most of his 4 bottles more completely than when I let him snack on no predetermined regimen. Naps  are the same, sporadic and in varied places from the crib (25 minutes) to my chest (1 hour during a conference call).

Night 1 is a shit show. The 8:00 pm 4-hour interval bottle was too late and he was too hungry, yet hes not ready for bed after guzzling down 7 ounces either. We rock. We try the crib. We cry. We come out of the crib. We dance, we sing, we bounce, we rock again. An hour later, we're both asleep in the bed as all nights prior to the sleep mission. He eats at 12:00 am, and 4:00 am and goes through many restless wake ups in between.

Day 2 starts off with mostly despair, and 3 coffees. Work is busy, my hair is messy, and there wasn't time for a shower because the 8:00 am 4-hour interval bottle is due. He takes only 2 ounces. But the books say have him finish the whole feed! Now what?

By night 2 I'm done with this crap. Still no shower because these damn 4 hour intervals, which sounded easy  (much like how a 5 year old looks like a real grown kid minutes before he throws himself on the ground in the supermarket and you pretend not to know him) are actually miserable and deceiving.

So my advice is this. One day, babies become kids, and kids go to sleep (this I know since I have one). It might be months or years, so survive while you can, and spend your money on good shoes and vodka, not sleep training books.

Thoughts on a Friday

My older son is turning 6 in a few weeks, and while people tell me how fast it goes, I'm not sure it feels speedy but it still feels rather incredible that we have managed to feed, clothe, care for, and keep alive another human for 6 years.

Having a second child has filled my soul with so much joy that I cant begin to memorialize it in words. The only rub of sadness comes when I think of my dad, and how he will never meet Wells. This realization feels like a ragged edge of an opened soup can in my chest.

I bought and assembled a 5 piece patio set this week, consisting of an entire outdoor sofa, side chairs, and table. It brought me immense satisfaction, but cost me a manicure and crippling back pain eased only with an extra glass of wine.

Baby Wells slept in his crib for 5 out of 10 of his sleeping hours, 3 nights in a row, and it feels like a victory. But then last night I missed his small head resting on my arm, and decided that not every baby really needs to sleep in a crib all the time.

The only way I could motivate myself to use the gym this past week was with a new Lululemon jacket. We all have our weaknesses.

Insta Round Up: Family of Four Edition

Life as a family of four is awesome. We are tired, but we are really happy. Since its 2017, I am not alone in being a working mom who can't really take more than a few weeks off from my job (which I enjoy, and where I have great co workers and bosses that count on me). At 34, I'm early in my legal career and have goals for myself and my family that a long time 'off' would not be conducive with. Its not easy, but we all manage whatever comes our way the best we can. Here are a few images from life lately.

My boys love each other already

Finding time for drinks out with friends is very important! jacket and top, Ann Taylor

LOVE

This face, 1 month old

my first post-baby work out at 3 weeks post-partum! top and pants Lululemon, Nike sneakers

more brotherly love

back to work!

Summer Reals

Though in reality, July 4th weekend is the very early stages of summer, to me, it feels like a half way point of sorts. I've been climbing a mountain for at least a month, so it feels like maybe we are in for a break some time soon.

Today, after spending the entire weekend preparing for and then hosting a friend's bridal shower, I took the day off from work. However to cope with a 4 year old that is more akin to a European dictator than a cuddly toddler many days, I had to dress as if I was going to work, and leave at my usual time. Underneath a shift dress I wore gym clothes and changed in my own garage. Luckily, this ploy worked and my husband was able to drop him at camp with minimal resistance (as a full time working mom, a day off for me signals a weekend for my son, and we could not have another epic meltdown like last week when I made the foolish mistake of thinking I could work from home and that he would still agree to leave the house at 8 am).

When we are on the emotional roller coaster with our mostly sweet, but sometimes difficult son (after school ends, before camp begins, when the teacher is absent and their is a sub, when the wind blows west instead of east), I need to stay away from social media where pictures of compliant, smiling children and their easy going, happy parents flood my news feeds and make me feel inadequate, foolish, and completely isolated. The 'this too shall pass' motto is hard to muster with any sincerity, and 'one day at a time' feels like a Tough Mudder competition.

To any parents out there that may relate, let this be my hand reaching out to say you are not alone.

The Real Parents of Long Island

May has been a beautiful but hectic month. The usual daily stressors are ever-present (work, bills, a temper tantrum, too many loads of laundry and too few hours in the evening) and some new ones have cropped up. The thought of moving to an entirely new place, starting an entirely new life has been discussed. But the fear of leaving holds us back. I love our home, our friends, but the pressures I see for Tucker as he enters school and the crazy expectations that engulf the youngsters on the North Shore of Long Island are sickening. Bravo has a new show shot in the town abutting ours, with women who frequent the same exercise classes, schools and shops as us, and has made me really examine what we are doing. I have read reviews of a new book written by an insider on the insanity of parenting on the Upper East Side, some parts all too close to home (parents hiring therapists to train toddlers on the art of having a play date). A show about our life would be filled with mundane commutes to work, the same dinner every night for our son (Annie's mac and cheese), cleaning, negotiating bed time, and then wine. Lots of wine. No one would watch.


All I want for my child is happiness, satisfaction, and fulfillment. When his teacher raves about his sweet nature, social skills and book smarts I am thrilled. Then she tells me that despite this, he doesn't pick up and hold his pencil the correct way unless prompted, or follow 4 step directions independently, and perhaps he should repeat nursery school before moving on to pre-K. I am stunned, and at this point, I can actually laugh. But alas, this is what parents in the area want- brilliant 3 year olds ready to tackle Harvard upon graduation from preschool. And so I come to work every day to pay for said preschool, unsure of the path to take, I examine every sentence my son speaks for clues on what the right choice is for us, where to go next month, next year. My husband works hard (with vision in only 1 eye), building a law practice in a town overrun with lawyers to help fill the income gap inherent in living where we do, as fairly normal parents who had their first child before turning 30. With a few good friends that help ground me and remind me we are not alone in our exhausting marathon, we will see what the future holds. I know it can always, always be worse and there is much to be happy and ecstatic about on a daily basis. More of that, less of the rest.