Notes From Mother’s Journal: Detailed Wednesday Edition

5:05 AM: I wake up. I lately have this fear that I will not be able to get back to sleep if I am awake too long in the night, so when I wake up and have to pee, I don’t. I just lie there and wait for the feeling to pass. I can do this for a while – all night, actually – because I have a bladder the size of Surrey but eventually I will roll over in my sleep, usually onto my left side, and wake up again. At 5:05 I gave up and got out of bed and then went back to sleep no problem. You are correct, I am ridiculous and probably giving myself bladder cancer as we speak.

5:30: SA gets up, but I don’t notice.

6:00: I get up and spend 30 minutes with my computer. This includes writing 750 words free-form-ily, checking email and facebook and twitter. I bring my laptop upstairs every night so I can do this first thing in the morning without the children clamouring around me like koala-urchin-people. It works! I get at least 30 minutes to myself a day, unless I am totally slacking and sleep the extra 30 minutes instead.

6:30: I come downstairs. Fresco has been up for 40 minutes and is talking about something. He is always talking about something. The child holds nothing back except his age, if asked in public. When he talks it sounds like this: “I haveathing! And I haveanotherthing! I have two things! Look! I have two things! Do you have a thing? Can I have that thing? Please can I have that thing? WHY CAN’T I HAVE THAT THING! (stomp stomp) I WANT IT! Oh hey that thing overdere! I want it! Now I have this thing!”

Trombone is up too. Trombone is holding up his end of that conversation pretty well.

SA is in the kitchen, making his lunch and ignoring the conversation.

6:40: My first sip of sweet, sweet coffee. Not sweetened; I only put white stuff in my coffee. Lately, soy milk. Although I do not like the brand we have in the house right now, “Silk Breeze” or something. I like So Good. It’s my favourite.

6:45: The children have noticed I am downstairs. Usually it doesn’t take them this long to notice but the conversation about The Thing Fresco Had / Wanted / Gave Up / Retrieved was pretty gripping.

7:00: SA leaves for work. Every day, Fresco says, “You no go work Daddy?” SA says, “Yes, I have to go to work.” Fresco says, “Awwwwwww” and then gets over it.

7:05: The children watch 30 minutes of recorded television while I drink my coffee. Today they watched Blue’s Clues. It was the one where it’s a special day for Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper. Steve, the host, has been singing a lot lately. I don’t really like this development.

7:20: Fresco has a 15 minute attention span for television, which is a good thing because he’s only 2 but a bad thing because I would prefer to have 30 minutes. He comes over to where I am sitting, asks to nurse. I ask him to go away. He says no. I say I will be over to nurse in a minute when I am done writing my list of things to do. He stands by the couch and stares at me. Nice waiting, Fresco.

Slowly we are weaning. He nurses twice or three times a day. Sometimes he forgets. The other night, instead of nursing before bed he said, “I just go to sleep. WITHOUT your nurses.” He calls everything located in the area of breasts “nurses.” I wish I had remembered this before I told him last week we were going to the clinic where the nice nurses would give him some medicine to keep him healthy. Can you picture it? Giant breasts with medicine in hand? No wonder the kid doesn’t sleep.

7:35: We eat breakfast. Trombone suggests we go swimming today. As they have been taking breaks during breakfast to run around the house and scream “HOCKEY! RUNNING! ROCK AND ROLL!” I think this is a good idea.

7:36 – 11:30: See this post except now Fresco can touch the bottom of the pool, refuses to hold my hand, submerged himself twice and basically kept my blood pressure at a nice healthy holyfuck over jesuschrist the whole time we were there.

12:00: Lunch is peanut butter sandwiches and milk. And cereal. More cereal. More milk. Banana. More cereal. I eat refried macaroni and cheese because I made this recipe last night and at the end of the recipe, Alton Brown says, “Don’t forget to save some for tomorrow’s fried macaroni and cheese!” and I do everything he says. I put some olive oil in a pan and fried up a big slab of macaroni and cheese. I added some hot sauce and a bit more salt. It was really fantastic and then I thought I might pass out because of all the exercise and the carbs, man, the carbs.

12:30: Carb coma. The children are listing. Fresco is banging his head against my thigh and Trombone is, well, he’s still full of energy. What the hell. I decide to bump up naptime to see if it will make either of them sleep more / less / at all.

1:00: Fresco passes out in his crib with his cat and blanket and water cup. I can’t believe that just a month ago we were in sleep regression hell that I thought would never end. IT WILL END, whoever is reading this and currently in sleep regression hell. Hey maybe it’s me in another 3 months! IT WILL END.

1:10: Trombone is dancing and yelling. He told me yesterday that he has naptime friends that keep him company at naptime. He was explaining how to spread cream cheese on a cracker and I asked him if he was talking to me because I already know how to do that, but thanks, and he said no, I’m explaining it to my naptime friends.

1:30: Trombone opens his door. I go upstairs and he is sitting on the edge of his bed, dark circles under his eyes. “You should have a rest” I say. “OK,” he says. I tuck him in again. Come downstairs. Tidy living room, run dishwasher, load dishes that don’t fit in dishwasher, sweep floor, eat some almonds.

2:15: He is dancing again.

2:17: Vitamins! I take mine. Wait. Nothing happens. I have never in my life wanted another cup of coffee so badly as I do right now.

2:22: I start writing this post.

2:23: What’s for dinner? I have no idea! I am a shitty housewife!

2:25: Fried macaroni! And frozen pizza. Whew. Done! No longer a shitty housewife, now just sort of questionable, nutritionally.

2:30: The children are allowed out of their rooms. Trombone has not slept. He is banging a stick on his dresser and claiming he is making a heartbeat noise. Fresco is responding from down the hall with rhythmic banging on his bedroom wall.

2:40: Popsicles!

3:00: Trombone has meltdown in the yard because I won’t let him take off his shorts.

3:15: Trombone has meltdown on the porch because I won’t let him hit his brother with a stick.

3:30: Trombone has meltdown in the bathroom because his pants won’t go on over his shoes.

3:35: I remind Trombone that naps can be restorative and he should CONSIDER HAVING ONE.

3:40: We make 17 videos of Trombone and Fresco playing their guitars in the yard. One of these is below for your viewing pleasure. Turn your speaker down.

4:00: Our friends come over! Cole, who is Two just like Fresco but also Two like Trombone was Two, ie: quiet and observant and quite adorable, studies the Wiggles guitar with the furrowed brow of a scientist on another planet. He has never seen the Wiggles. I attempt to keep it that way despite Trombone’s junkie-like hankering for television. “Hey, there’s this show?” Shut it, kid.

5:45: Our friends leave. New Mizzleite Miranda is wondering: What is a Hyack? Tenth to the Fraser, tell us please?

6:00: Gosh I’d better heat up that pizza.

6:10: Hooray! SA is home! Let’s have frozen pizza and watch bad tv and go to bed at 9!

Roll on, Thursday.

S’been a long time since I rock and rolled from tortured potato on Vimeo.

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