Nightmares

We've had a little visitor in the middle of the night quite a bit of late. It seems that Gillian is drumming up some doozies and even with the hall light and a nightlight she gets a little freaked out when she wakes up in a quiet, sleepy house. I guess I started to notice this trend a couple of months ago when she called me into her room and asked about "that black thing on the side of the window". I pulled up the shade and showed her that it was the window frame.

Our fat, lazy, roly poly cat induces near hysteria if she has the audacity to jump on the bed (or even walk by Gillian's bedroom door) at night, imagined to be some terrible monster of mythical proportions. I spent 15 minutes explaining that Booger is many things, but Lazy is the #1 thing, and that in itself would preclude her from doing such ambitious things as biting a little girl's face off, for example. I started thinking, as I was demonstrating on Gillian's hand how hard Booger bites when you give her those spankings she likes, that maybe I shouldn't be doing that. But, it ended all the paranoid talk with laughter, which is probably as good as it is going to get (I later showed her physically this phenomenon-Booger, in her usual fashion, enjoyed her light spanking and then bit me with little love bites, then licked my hand).

Then there was the "bad dream" about the alligator that started the alligator fear phase. And there was the snake who came in the house and he made us start a fire and then he ate it and it made his tummy hurt and so he went away (to which I replied, "isn't that a GOOD dream? We made his fire so spicy it made him go away with a tummy ache?!!)... I think most of these are kind of cute, but the second one on this video clip is just not cute or funny at all. Because God knows it probably happens to someone in this world every day.



So, the rule is that Gillian can always come to us at night when she's scared as long as she doesn't startle us out of REM sleep with a dramatic tantrum. She has been pretty fantastic about just climbing into our bed or whispering to one if us that she's scared and asking one of us to go sleep in her room. The dreams she describes are perfectly weird enough to be dreams and not an excuse to come sleep with us ("I dreamed this bad cat was really a dog who could change into a cat or a dog whenever he wanted").

As an aside: ever since we decided to tow the hard line with night waking with Addie, she has happily slept through the night. Silly us for not doing it much sooner.

Wake up call

It's been a crazy couple of months. Well, crazier. The newest stress (beyond worrying about my livelihood while being used as a political pawn) is my diagnosis of squamous cell carcinoma. Yeah-sobering. You get pretty humbled pretty quick when someone tells you you have cancer, even if it is a non-threatening looking little spot on your arm.


So, here it is-Squamous Cell Carcinoma (lovingly referred to in the literature as "SCC"). More specifically, it's a form of SCC called Bowen's Disease. I have had this spot for 6 or 7 years, so I am hoping it isn't too advanced. I guess I thought it was eczema. No excuse for a person with as much public health training as I have. Good thing I asked for a dermatology referral. My primary care doctor didn't think much of this thing a couple years ago when I had 5 moles removed. This time the specialist removed 2 precancerous lesions (actinic keratoses-one on my face and another next to the SCC lesion), two benign moles, and biopsied the SCC lesion. They are excising it next Monday, which is a few weeks since I got the diagnosis. Thursday I leave for New York City to spend a long weekend celebrating my 37th birthday with friends. Ironic. I pray daily for my father's disease genes (massive, instantaneous heart attack) and not my mothers' (my brother looked just like her and they both had internal-make-you-die cancer).

There's nothing like a cancer diagnosis (no matter what kind) to give you a sobering reality check about your life. Like, my little life is as fragile as a fall leaf. God doesn't HAVE to let me be here among the rest of you. He doesn't HAVE to let me watch my children grow up and become smart, kind, beautiful young women. This is all icing, and I should try to meditate on that every day.

And I am angry at myself. My stupid 16 year old self that use to try against hope to get a tan, laying out in the sun, burning after burning after burning my fragile, pale skin trying to be beautiful... and I am mad at my parents who should have been slathering me with sun block every weekend when we went to the beach. I can't even count the times I remember peeling blistered skin off my nose and cheeks and the part of my hair. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID. I will be a better parent than they were. I will make sure my girls have hats and cover ups and high SPF sunblock. Especially Addie, who has beautiful, porcelain skin. Probably how mine would have looked if someone had been smart enough to protect it.

I am freaking out a little. I am trying to keep myself calm. I promise myself that even though it took me almost 37 years to get to a dermatologist to have a full body check of every blemish on my freckly, moley skin, I will be going twice a year from now on to get a scan. I am praying that this is the only diagnosis of cancer I ever get, and am grateful that it is NOT melanoma. I am putting out into the universe that this lesion is localized and has not metastasized anywhere and will be 100% removed after April 11, never to return.

Tidbit

Date with Gillian

Sean and I had such fun on Mardi Gras at the fais do-do that we decided to make the monthly Cajun dance part of our routine. We weren't sure how we wanted to manage it this time...initially we thought just one of us and Gillian...then just both of us. Then I suggested maybe leaving Addie home to go to bed and bringing Gillian. At the last minute we got a sitter and decided to do just that.

We hyped it up. Gillian getting us all to herself-getting to stay up late. She was so excited. We fed Addie and got her in the bath, Angie arrived and we snuck out the back. Angie is with Addie four days a week now (from 730-930 in the mornings and all day Friday), so it's not traumatic when she's the sitter, and it is liberating to know she knows how to put Addie to bed (as far as the routine goes).

Gillian wore a ridiculous 1st communion dress/"Princess gown" Monica from the Cajun Dance Association had found for her in a thrift store for $1 last summer, and decided she wanted her hair in a bun. Before that we had done our nails and I had curled my hair for the occasion (with the curlers that I have had for years and that Gillian used before me-this was my first time!). We went out to Chili's because it was easy and because we all wanted burgers and fries (their blackbean burger is YUM!). We had to wait awhile, but the entire time, Gillian was absolutely delightful. We got seated and they now have these little games at the table and we all had fun playing them together. We talked and joked and laughed. No one was fighting, no one was arguing, no one was trying to escape their seat, NO ONE WAS WHINING. Oh, it was like an oasis of calm and peace, but WITH our children. Heavenly. And we were truly enjoying every second of our date with our little girl, who it seems, is quite civilized and awesome when she's not vying for attention around her sister. I wondered "would she be like this most of the time if she had been our only child?" Obviously, at the end of the day, I think they will love having eachother, but the difference was something to see.

We headed over to the dance and Gillian recognized Monica and they danced pretty early on. Gillian was so sweet in her little dress and her bun. She and I danced, she and Sean danced, she danced as elegantly as she could muster around Sean and I when we danced. I promise that night and watching her at the dance will be emblazoned on my brain forever, as a symbol of THIS MOMENT in her life. When I have the priviledge of being there for her first dance at her wedding, I will remember her last Saturday night in her four-year-old glory-dancing and twirling, and laughing. Even now, I get a little teary thinking about my beautiful little girl being such a beautiful little girl-there was not a single person who didn't smile watching her in her innocence and freedom. I bet lots of them were parents of a not-so-little girl, remembering a special moment, a memory, that they made a mental note to lock in their repository for posterity. I had a wonderful weekend with my girls.

Update on sleep

Since making our decision about sleep training, and choosing to not go to Addie when she yells for us at night, we have had 4 nights where she has woken up (for literally 5 minutes or less) once between 2-5am. Two of those were the non-serious-fake crying "Mama...Mama...OUT...BOTTLE!...OUT!" and one was real crying. Two nights I didn't wake up at all, and I assume she didn't either. All four nights she has slept until almost 8 am, a full hour and a half longer than she does when we were giving her a bottle in the middle of the night. We should have done this a long time ago.

Sleepless in Chicago

Adelaide is a hard baby. I have tried to justify her behavior with illness or teething, but she is just tough. She has always been tough. She has never slept well, which means we have been pretty well sleep deprived for going on two years. The night waking and misery is what prompted us to swaddle her and put her on her stomach at 3 weeks old (Yes, agreed-Oh, the HORROR!). At least then she (and we) could get up to 3 hours of sleep at a time (I was laying next to her until she was 4 months old, and could side-lay nurse her).

She has always been a very orally fixated child, which is why in desperation we turned to the pacifier (Gillian never cared for them). Otherwise, we are forever fishing things out of her mouth that have somehow miraculously NOT choked her to death up to this point (knock on wood). And I mean everything-balls of cat hair; buttons; dimes; sand, cigarette butts and glass at the beach; mulch; trash; bottle caps; tiny polly pocket clothing; shells; guitar picks-you name it and she wants to eat it. Everything except food, anyway. She is a terrible eater, which is why she drinks 30 ounces of milk between bedtime and morning. Or maybe we created that pattern by giving her milk all night.

Oh, the endless chicken or egg second guessing... I am convinced that the pacifier at least contributed to this because when she was little and it fell out of her mouth she would wake up looking for it. And then we swooped in like superheros with a warm cozy boobie or bottle when she cried because it made her go back to sleep like magic. Well, you never know exactly when is the time to start making them tough it out and not go to them when they cry out for you at night. So, we just never stopped, and we still get up and give Addie bottles twice during the night. Except now she doesn't want to go back to sleep. We simply can't deal with it anymore, so we are going to start over beginning tonight.

We are thinking we have to night train her, so I am not looking forward to the next few nights. Tonight it started with cutting the agonizingly long bedtime routine of bottle and books and snuggling from 45 minutes to 20 (she demands books for days, then you turn off the light, and she knows that means it's almost bedtime, and she ALWAYS then asks for more milk, even if she doesn't want it, in an effort to delay the inevitable bedtime, then she writhes and struggles when you walk her over to put her in her crib). So, I ignored the pleas for more milk and more books and snuggling, gave her a squirming, whiny little self a kiss and put her in her bed with a sippy cup of water for the night. She was not happy, but she only cried for a minute or two (so, score for us-tonight anyway). We are going to have to accept that when she wakes up yelling for us it probably will escalate to screaming and crying and disturb everyone in this house and possibly the neighbors downstairs. Hopefully this will only happen for a few nights. The next thing to slough off is the pacifier, but we'll do this dependence intervention thing in stages...

Addie likes to channel Sir Edmund Hillary on a regular day, tempting fate by scaling everything, all the time. She stands up on the back of the couch, she tries climbing onto the fireplace mantle by pulling the piano bench over, she climbs from the floor to the kitchen table top and today I turned around she was standing on the windowsill, precariously. Thank God our windows open from the top, or she would most certainly do a free fall through the screen to an unfortunate end this summer when the window gives against her weight. She falls a lot and there is much kissing of booboos.

I am going to have her checked for allergies when she's two also. It is amazing how much of her life she has spent congested, snotty, and generally uncomfortable (though inexplicably cheerful through a good bit of it). This physical discomfort has led to a great deal of attachment to me and neediness. That is not such a problem with one child, but with two that are needy, things get challenging. Like, today, I couldn't put her down. She would cry and cry and cry-while Gillian was persistently demanding I play princesses with her (so we did that with a "giant monster baby" who lived on my lap-see? Isn't Gillian a resourceful, pragmatic girl?). And it would be one thing if that was unusual, but it's not.

I could go on-about the angry faces she makes or how she yells in protest when she doesn't get her way, or the tantrums. Gillian was an absolute cake-walk in comparison (a scary thought, to be sure, given how strong-willed and head strong she is). At 2o months, Gillian slept from 7 pm to 8 am-13 solid, glorious hours. She didn't climb on things. She didn't put things in her mouth. She was generally very sweet in her disposition and did not throw many tantrums. She didn't really eat well (probably the tonsils/adenoids), but other than that she was pretty easy.

I guess all of this makes it hard to truly treasure our time and I feel pretty awful about it-but sick, belligerent, sleep deprived babies are not inherently lovable (though she has her frequent moments that have me falling in love with her *that* much more). At this age, I wished I could stretch my days with Gillian for eternities, and I am hoping when the warm weather arrives Addie and I also have awesome and special moments on our walks and trips to the beach and playgrounds. I hate feeling less connected with Addie, and I don't know if it's because she and I don't have much time to bond alone, or if its part of the physical stuff I am mentioning, or just the second kid syndrome. She is definitely way more independent, so that contributes... and I am grateful for the independence, but maybe her not needing me as much on a play level (though she is certainly needy on the *sick-and-want-mama* level) makes me feel less bonded.

That is not to say that Addie is not sweet, or silly, or precious at all. She is absolutely hilarious, and is always making us laugh. She is very sweet (albeit sometimes she is compensating for hurting someone), and is generous with kisses and hugs. She's a gifted conversationalist and does the cutest little head dance when she likes a song (she can definitely groove and shake what her mama gave her with the best of them, too). Part of all these feelings might be the cabin fever of late winter setting in or how extendedly dreary and cold it has been-hard for a Florida girl.

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Added Thursday (day after this post was written): Addie woke up once hollering for me, and did so for 5 minutes at 2 am and went back to sleep. I am pretty sure it can't be this easy, but I'll be greedy and hope it is!

Bye Bye Boobies

Addie is done. We made it to 20 months, which I am proud of even though I wanted to go longer. It is tough trying to keep that going when you're away from home 48 hours a week. So, it's over. If this is the last baby I ever nurse, it makes me incredibly sad. I cherish those moments of the most intimate bonding I can imagine.

Classroom

I took last Friday off to do a craft with Gillian's class. I was a little intimidated by the idea of 22 gregarious 3, 4, and 5 year olds since I have never taught a group like that, per se. In my usual fashion, I bought everything I needed on Wednesday, and did nothing to prepare until Thursday night, when I could stay up late because I wasn't working the next day. I had googled "mouse paper bag puppet" because I had this idea about reading Gillian's class If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and having a theme for art and snack around that. Unfortunately, the mouse puppets I found online left a lot to be desired, so I created my own template-borrowing a little, of course. It had to be cute, it had to have few enough pieces that even the littlest kids could manage the project, it had to be economical for me (<$10 for everything), and it had to be functional. Typical, but this took a much longer time to cut out all the little pieces than I expected. I started prepping at 9:30 pm, and finished at 3 am. The nice thing about the bag hand puppets is that all the little pieces tuck nicely into the bag.

I slept 3.5 hours, and then I got up, got the girls fed and ready for school, took Gillian to school, and came back and baked 4 dozen cookies (for snack time-you know give a MOUSE a COOKIE). Gillian was not aware that I was coming back to her class. I arrived a little before 9:30 am (the scheduled arrival time) and the kids were doing circle time and acting out various animals. It was adorable. I have never had a chance to witness a regular day at her classroom, so this was a bonus. They all went to the bathroom, during which time her teacher and I knocked over all the chairs in the classroom (which was attributed to a naughty little leprechaun-they obviously had a lot of fun with leprechauns the day before, which was St. Patrick's Day). The kids came back in marvelling at the destruction the leprechaun had left behind and put all their chairs back where they went. Then it was story time.

I sat down, all these precious little faces eager to absorb every word of the story (except Sebastian, Gillian's arch nemesis, who apparently never listens to anything, ever, and gets sent home on a regular basis for doing things like calling his teacher a "big, fat LIAR!"). And we read the story...I asked them the sorts of questions I ask Gillian during a story ("why do you think he did that?" or "what color is that crayon", or "why do you think the mouse had all that energy to mop the whole house?"), so it wasn't unnatural or anything. I have a four year old. I get that age. And I got to be with them on their best behavior because everyone behaves better at school than at home. It was so much fun to read the story, but then it was craft time.

Everyone took their seats, and I passed out the little brown bags to everyone and told them to dump the contents out. Ms. Woods (one of G's teachers) pinned a mouse to the wall as an example, we passed out the glue sticks, and I walked them through the steps of gluing on different parts. I told them they could make the mouse however they wanted (they could make the eyes be crossed or one up and one down for silliness, or put the whiskers on their bellies, or whatever)...and the teachers and I helped kids who were having a little trouble. The oldest kids finished quickly, following the example, not waiting for my prompts. The little ones brought up the rear, but everyone had a blast and loved the product. I took the picture, below, because they were so excited and it was such fun!

Then it was cookie time, which was even more exciting. They approved of the chocolate chip cookies heartily, and then after that was "free play". Gillian was asking if I could stay longer, so I stayed through free play and had lots of fun playing Swan Princess with Gillian and a few of her classmates (God love Daniel, who was dressed to the nines in a tutu and had a magic wand), when Gillian was singing Swan Lake at the top of her lungs, and then we colored and played tea party... then Ms. Woods asked if I wanted to do regular story time before lunch, so I read another book. Even though Gillian pleaded for me to stay and eat lunch with her, I decided to leave because I was starving and exhausted.

This experience made me even more appreciative of teachers, and what they do every day to give our kids a sense of normalcy and routine. That is probably the only place some kids get that, though maybe less children have family issues in a private school. But still. I honestly had a wonderful time and thought that teaching would be so rewarding and hard. Just like parenting. So, props to all you educators. I honor you and am in awe of you. Thank you, really, for everything you do. I can't wait to come back and do it again (I was told I have an open invitation!).

Timing

Gillian was born mid-September. In Ilinois, the cut off for school is September 1st. That is why she didn't go to preschool until she was almost 4 (preschool starts at age 3); the child has to be that age by the 1st of September. So, when she is eligible for kindergarten, she will be nearly 6 years old. This worries me in a socially focused preschool where my kid loves academics.

{{I will preface the following paragraph with the acknowledgement that my child is no prodigy or genius of any kind, and that most of the kids in the circles we run in have an equal level of motivation in learning The Basics; this is purely about how we struggle with her starting school a full year late, how we struggle to back off and pipe down and let teachers get on with educating our children, and relinquishing control of who will shape the way she approaches school learning...}}

I have tried not to push academics with Gillian too much, but she got the LeapFrog letter and word factory movies when she was 2 as gifts, loved them, and absorbed them like a sponge. She wanted to write letters and learn the sounds of the letters, so she learned them. Now, I assume by osmosis (because last summer when I saw her writing numbers they were all kind of weird), she is writing her numbers perfectly up to 20-this I saw for the first time last weekend (I never saw her practice, so that was unexpected). She learned to count to 100 by listening to me count while I tickle her back before bed (this was only so she would know what the end was so I didn't get stuck doing it for days, but she was listening a lot harder than we thought!). So, she is handy with drawing and with writing, probably because she likes getting positive feedback about her drawings and writing (and she is an extroverted attention glutton, so she likes to do things to impress people, especially Mama and Papa).

The reason I am telling you this is because I have real concerns about how she is going to behave with another 16 months between her and kindergarten where she will learn to write her letters, spell her name, and count (all of which she knew before starting preschool last summer). I would love to hear your stories if you have older children who were in this position at Gillian's age-what wisdom can you impart with educational prep? Gillian is no cakewalk on a regular day, and is exceedingly difficult when bored. So, if she already knows the basics of kindergarten, I hope the curriculum can meet her needs.

This came up because I had a parent-teacher conference last week. THAT is weird. (that I'm a parent and have parent-teacher conferences). Anyway, I asked them what they do to keep children engaged. I assume these days, like Gillian, more and more kids are coming to preschool knowing colors, shapes, letters, numbers, how to spell some words, like their names and those of their family members (technology, preschool-TV, family structure, mutually exclusive gender roles in parenting becoming less important while spending more quality time with kids becomes more important, etc., certainly has a hand in why this is so)....so how does a teacher keep the kids learning? How do they keep the kids from being annoying, distracting pains in the butt when they are trying to teach kids whose ages range from just-turned-3 to almost 6 in one preschool classroom? Right now, Gillian is learning really important things like days of the week and months of the year (and being a "little Mama" to the littlest kids in her class). Her teacher said they pace the kids with what they teach them their first and second year of preschool. She said that they have to be careful not to push too much, because preschool is really more about learning to share, to be responsible, to play well, to make friends, etc. She and the other assistant teacher said they do try to work with individual kids on things to challenge them. All I could think was "these women are ROCKSTARS!". Teachers are seriously underworshipped in this country. They mold these impressionable little brains. It's an awesome responsibility!

I believe Gillian is socially immature and needs to be in preschool. She has grown unbelieveably in the past 10 months of being at NCA (first for camp, then for preschool). She use to be so shy that she would refuse to approach other children at the playground (only wanted to play with adults-mostly ME), and now she makes friends everywhere-even when we're sitting at McDonald's. I will definitely avoid making Gillian some science experiment where learning becomes stressful-my dad made me his experiment while in school for education, and I spent my entire academic life desperate to please him. I also have a very warped need of striving for academic perfection, which makes school stressful at times. I don't want Gillian to be a slacker, but I also don't want her to be a 9th grader feeling the pressure of college (like a work colleague's daughter who is at a college prep high school in the city that seems likely to give herself ulcers over maintaining her 4.0).

When we filled out our school paperwork for 2011-2012, we considered trying to see if Gillian could start kindergarten a year early quite a bit, but everyone (particularly Nonni, the elementary school teacher who retired after 30 years in the classroom) told us we would be sorry in the long run if we put her in the position of being the youngest kid in the classroom. So, we will see how she does in this classroom another year.

Addie Addie RAH-RAH!!!!