I suppose many people might tell us that, as new parents, we should just learn to accept sleep deprivation as a part of our lives. And to a certain extent, I can agree with that. Even if I wasn't lazy about chores, having to keep a constant eye on a toddler makes them nearly impossible to accomplish without penning her up in a pack and play (something I have only tried once-- and it didn't go well).
On the other hand, though, I think our sleep problems may actually stem from the fact that we feel (and maybe I'm just speaking for myself here) a societally driven desire to cram too many things into our schedule. But even that is too simplistic of an explanation. Yes, we both have activities outside of work. Yes, we have a one-year-old who requires constant supervision. Yes, we both like to relax in front of the TV or a book.
All of that being said, I think the problem is our (my) unwillingness to compromise. I have this idea in my head of what an ideal life looks like, and I keep striving to reach it. In this ideal life, we have better jobs, make more money, eat only home-cooked, organic-local-humane food (that is also gluten-free) and are magical parents who socialize with other parents, volunteer in child-centric activities (like girl scouts and sports). We're also president of the PTO.
But I digress. In pursuit of this perfect future, we push ourselves to achieve things that are on the path to this magic life. We're both taking classes toward an advanced degree. We both run, in an effort to be healthy. I cook, and try very hard to make things from scratch and not lean on convenience foods. I try to go to the farmer's market in the summer (though apparently, it's open year-round). I try to cram more vegetables onto Tom's plate, but it seems like such a waste when he turns his nose up at them.
And, all of these extra pursuits, the stuff beyond the 40 hour work week, the childcare, and the home maintenance (laundry, cleaning, etc) has to happen either while Emmy is sitting there clamoring for our attention OR after Emmy goes to bed AND before we go to bed.
Emmy goes to bed at 8. With any luck, we've had dinner before that, so now it's just a matter of cleaning it up. And since I made it from scratch, there are a lot of kitchen tools that need to be cleaned. Then, if it's a homework night, that has to get done. Then there's getting ready for bed. And Tom runs at night. And I run in the morning. And by God, there just aren't enough hours in the day. Something has to give.
So where do I make the compromise? Do I give up sleep? (that NEVER works out well-- I turn into a super-grump with insufficient sleep) Do I give up running? Do I make simpler meals that rely on more packaged foods? Do I give up the time I spend on the bare minimum of appearance related maintenance I do (blow-drying hair, showering, teeth brushing). I already gave up on contacts, nail polish, and I almost never wear make-up.
Do I try to accomplish more things before Emmy goes to bed? The only way that will work is if Tom and I trade-off on the Emmy-minding.
Is it simply a matter of juggling time better?
And on that note, here is my other problem. I generally get a sufficient-to-almost-sufficient amount of sleep, but even so, I'm tired at the end of the day. And planning my life out to squeeze as much time and efficiency from a day as possible? Well, the mere thought exhausts me. I'm pretty laid-back when it comes to schedules and the like, and the thought of consulting a list tires me out. Much less the thought of actually planning that list out.
It is my belief that the human brain requires a certain amount of down-time. And I think mine needs a little more.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
It's like an experiment
I don't like to tempt fate and say things like, "I don't know how this week could get worse," but seriously, week? You've sucked.
First, an unnamed co-worker got mad at me for misinterpreting my actions. I'm no saint at work. I have a tendency to be standoffish-at-best, which can be taken as meanness. I don't really think I'm mean, I just don't pretend to care about whatever everyone is complaining about. Anyway, this was not an instance of my being aloof, this was simply a misunderstanding about my intentions. My intention was to do my job, and it was taken as me preventing this co-worker from doing it. Pointedly.
At least, that's what I assume. So, that was Tuesday. And I raged out (silently and inwardly) and it ruined my day.
Then on Wednesday, a snowstorm hit at 2:30 and I got stuck in traffic for 3 and 1/2 hours when I left work at 4:00. There have been a few times in my life where I have felt powerless and simultaneously known that I was in a situation through no fault of my own, which only contributes to the powerlessness, because you can't even tell yourself that if you had only done this differently, you wouldn't be stuck now. This was one of those times. It wasn't that bad, except that I didn't use the bathroom before I left work. It could have been worse, and I realize that. It could have worked out that Emmy was stuck at daycare while I was stuck in traffic. Or, even worse, stuck in the car with me (and hungry and tired and increasingly grouchy about being stuck in her carseat). So, I'm glad it was just me. But it felt downright apocalyptic, being stuck on the streets of Nashville creeping along on a drive that normally takes less than 30 minutes.
On Thursday, everything seemed to be going fine, until I got home. I wore tall boots to prevent wet jeans from walking in snow from making me cold and miserable all day. Boots = good plan. Except that these boots had no traction. I almost slipped once, and I thought, be careful, watch your step. And then on the next step, down I went, smashing my knee on the icy concrete of my driveway.
Then later that night, I tried to get a run in, in preparation for the 5K on Saturday, and the belt kept slipping. I was so frustrated that I stopped my run after only 15 minutes or so. It took me an hour after that to find the manual online and figure out that the belt was loose and then, figure out how to tighten it, which required me to put weight on my bruised knee, which HURT (because I forgot about the bruise until the weight was on it).
And finally, today, Tom's flight for work was bumped up a day so that it coincides with his SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY. And me, being the socially inept creature that I am had no one to call about this devestation but HIM.
Phone conversation:
Me: You can't fly out on Sunday.
Him: Why?
Me: You just can't. Can you change it?
Him: No. Why can't I fly on Sunday?
Me: (bursting into tears) Because I scheduled a surprise party for you on Sunday.
Him: Well, honey, if I had known, I would have tried to change it.
Me: That's the irony. If you had known, it wouldn't be a surprise.
So, fate being what it is, I have two more days for this week to get worse. Any bets? Perhaps I can break my ankle (or freeze to death) on the run tomorrow.
Fate, I await your next move with baited breath.
First, an unnamed co-worker got mad at me for misinterpreting my actions. I'm no saint at work. I have a tendency to be standoffish-at-best, which can be taken as meanness. I don't really think I'm mean, I just don't pretend to care about whatever everyone is complaining about. Anyway, this was not an instance of my being aloof, this was simply a misunderstanding about my intentions. My intention was to do my job, and it was taken as me preventing this co-worker from doing it. Pointedly.
At least, that's what I assume. So, that was Tuesday. And I raged out (silently and inwardly) and it ruined my day.
Then on Wednesday, a snowstorm hit at 2:30 and I got stuck in traffic for 3 and 1/2 hours when I left work at 4:00. There have been a few times in my life where I have felt powerless and simultaneously known that I was in a situation through no fault of my own, which only contributes to the powerlessness, because you can't even tell yourself that if you had only done this differently, you wouldn't be stuck now. This was one of those times. It wasn't that bad, except that I didn't use the bathroom before I left work. It could have been worse, and I realize that. It could have worked out that Emmy was stuck at daycare while I was stuck in traffic. Or, even worse, stuck in the car with me (and hungry and tired and increasingly grouchy about being stuck in her carseat). So, I'm glad it was just me. But it felt downright apocalyptic, being stuck on the streets of Nashville creeping along on a drive that normally takes less than 30 minutes.
On Thursday, everything seemed to be going fine, until I got home. I wore tall boots to prevent wet jeans from walking in snow from making me cold and miserable all day. Boots = good plan. Except that these boots had no traction. I almost slipped once, and I thought, be careful, watch your step. And then on the next step, down I went, smashing my knee on the icy concrete of my driveway.
Then later that night, I tried to get a run in, in preparation for the 5K on Saturday, and the belt kept slipping. I was so frustrated that I stopped my run after only 15 minutes or so. It took me an hour after that to find the manual online and figure out that the belt was loose and then, figure out how to tighten it, which required me to put weight on my bruised knee, which HURT (because I forgot about the bruise until the weight was on it).
And finally, today, Tom's flight for work was bumped up a day so that it coincides with his SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY. And me, being the socially inept creature that I am had no one to call about this devestation but HIM.
Phone conversation:
Me: You can't fly out on Sunday.
Him: Why?
Me: You just can't. Can you change it?
Him: No. Why can't I fly on Sunday?
Me: (bursting into tears) Because I scheduled a surprise party for you on Sunday.
Him: Well, honey, if I had known, I would have tried to change it.
Me: That's the irony. If you had known, it wouldn't be a surprise.
So, fate being what it is, I have two more days for this week to get worse. Any bets? Perhaps I can break my ankle (or freeze to death) on the run tomorrow.
Fate, I await your next move with baited breath.
Monday, February 7, 2011
More Illness
Emmy has RSV. If she were younger, it might be a lot more serious, but luckily, since she is older, and healthy, it's just manifesting as a cold. She has a cough and a ridiculously runny nose, but otherwise, she seems her usual happy, cheerful self, though perhaps a little more easily tuckered out.
Thursday, they sent her home from daycare with a fever, but she was fine all that evening. She was acting so normal, in fact, that we didn't even think twice about sending her to daycare the next day. The daycare did though. They called Tom right as he was arriving at work and said she couldn't stay because she had been sent home with a fever the day before.
When I got home on Friday, Emmy's fever was back up, so I decided we would take her to the doctor on Saturday morning. (Thank goodness our doctor has Saturday/non-traditional hours)
Once we got to the doctor, they swabbed her nose for the flu and RSV, and the RSV came back positive. They also checked her ears, and they both were showing early signs of infection. So we got yet another round of antibiotics, and a follow-up appointment on Monday to check her ears and lung sounds.
She was fine all weekend, until Sunday evening. At 5:00 pm (just as the superbowl was gearing up), she was fussy and nothing was cheering her up. She wasn't hungry, and she wasn't interested in playing. This behavior almost invariably means she needs a nap. 5:00 pm is a little late for a nap (since bedtime is around 7:30-8:00,) but I knew she wouldn't be going to school on Monday, so I thought, worst-case-scenario, we could keep her up a little later.
Twenty minutes after putting her in the crib, though, she was awake and fussing, so I sent Tom to bring her back downstairs.
Thus proceeded about twenty more minutes of solid screaming, squirming, and straining in my arms. We had given her tylenol around 5 pm, so we couldn't give her any more, but clearly, something was bothering her (whether it was her ears or her teething).
So, all I could do was just hold her and try to soothe her. Around 5:45 or so, she fell asleep on my chest, and stayed there until half-time. Normally, I wouldn't put her to bed that early, especially since we hadn't really eaten dinner yet, but it seemed like she needed sleep more than dinner, so we woke her up enough to give her her nighttime dose of the antibiotics and change her diaper. After that, she slept through until 7:20 am.
This morning, I took her to the doctor, where we had a nightmarish 2 hour wait. I don't know what the delay was (they never tell you) but by 11:30, (our appt was at 10:15) Emmy was screaming and inconsolable. She didn't want me to hold her, whether I was sitting or walking, she didn't want to sit on the floor (she starting flinging her head back and would have hit it on the floor or the chairs, if I hadn't caught her each time.)
So, frustration mounting, I flung open the exam room door, walked out with her in my arms, and announced to the nurse that we needed to walk. So, we walked around and around the nurses station, and that was the key-- in an area where she could see what was happening, and see people coming and going, she stopped crying.
Shortly after that, our doctor came in and checked Emmy's ears and lungs. She sounds fine, and though her ears are swollen and fluid-filled, we have hopefully caught it early enough to stave off the worst of the infection.
On a side note, we have a new tooth. I think we're up to three now. Her open mouth screaming afforded me plenty of opportunity to view the new one.
Tom and I haven't gotten this cold yet, but it takes 4-5 days from date of infection to hit, so we'll see how we're feeling Wednesday or Thursday.
Also, special thanks to Aunt Patty (mini-weez) who is babysitting today, and possibly tomorrow.
Thursday, they sent her home from daycare with a fever, but she was fine all that evening. She was acting so normal, in fact, that we didn't even think twice about sending her to daycare the next day. The daycare did though. They called Tom right as he was arriving at work and said she couldn't stay because she had been sent home with a fever the day before.
When I got home on Friday, Emmy's fever was back up, so I decided we would take her to the doctor on Saturday morning. (Thank goodness our doctor has Saturday/non-traditional hours)
Once we got to the doctor, they swabbed her nose for the flu and RSV, and the RSV came back positive. They also checked her ears, and they both were showing early signs of infection. So we got yet another round of antibiotics, and a follow-up appointment on Monday to check her ears and lung sounds.
She was fine all weekend, until Sunday evening. At 5:00 pm (just as the superbowl was gearing up), she was fussy and nothing was cheering her up. She wasn't hungry, and she wasn't interested in playing. This behavior almost invariably means she needs a nap. 5:00 pm is a little late for a nap (since bedtime is around 7:30-8:00,) but I knew she wouldn't be going to school on Monday, so I thought, worst-case-scenario, we could keep her up a little later.
Twenty minutes after putting her in the crib, though, she was awake and fussing, so I sent Tom to bring her back downstairs.
Thus proceeded about twenty more minutes of solid screaming, squirming, and straining in my arms. We had given her tylenol around 5 pm, so we couldn't give her any more, but clearly, something was bothering her (whether it was her ears or her teething).
So, all I could do was just hold her and try to soothe her. Around 5:45 or so, she fell asleep on my chest, and stayed there until half-time. Normally, I wouldn't put her to bed that early, especially since we hadn't really eaten dinner yet, but it seemed like she needed sleep more than dinner, so we woke her up enough to give her her nighttime dose of the antibiotics and change her diaper. After that, she slept through until 7:20 am.
This morning, I took her to the doctor, where we had a nightmarish 2 hour wait. I don't know what the delay was (they never tell you) but by 11:30, (our appt was at 10:15) Emmy was screaming and inconsolable. She didn't want me to hold her, whether I was sitting or walking, she didn't want to sit on the floor (she starting flinging her head back and would have hit it on the floor or the chairs, if I hadn't caught her each time.)
So, frustration mounting, I flung open the exam room door, walked out with her in my arms, and announced to the nurse that we needed to walk. So, we walked around and around the nurses station, and that was the key-- in an area where she could see what was happening, and see people coming and going, she stopped crying.
Shortly after that, our doctor came in and checked Emmy's ears and lungs. She sounds fine, and though her ears are swollen and fluid-filled, we have hopefully caught it early enough to stave off the worst of the infection.
On a side note, we have a new tooth. I think we're up to three now. Her open mouth screaming afforded me plenty of opportunity to view the new one.
Tom and I haven't gotten this cold yet, but it takes 4-5 days from date of infection to hit, so we'll see how we're feeling Wednesday or Thursday.
Also, special thanks to Aunt Patty (mini-weez) who is babysitting today, and possibly tomorrow.
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