John passed one of three (the hardest of three) tests that he has to take to qualify to teach in our state. He’s not worried about the other two, he was only sweating this one. I think it’ll be a few weeks before we find out about the other two and be sure, but we’re pretty excited and looking to begin applying to teaching jobs now.
*Happy Sigh.*
Wish us luck, people.
And good job, John. I love you muchly.
John is cracking me up. He keeps looking through people on Facebook and saying things like,
“I don’t know why he’s in my friend suggestion list. He’s very chubby.” (I don’t think the chubby is the reason why he wonders, he’s fine with chubby people. More of a non-sequitur, really. He was illustrating his lack of understanding of Facebook’s algorithm that allows them to match people. His words. Not mine.)
“Look at her super-rectangular head.”
and
“I think she has lazy eye-lids.”
Hahahahahahaha.
I have absolutely no use for getting knocked off my feet. I’m not sure when this idea became an image for falling in love. And there it is again, “falling” in love. It makes it sound uncontrollable and violent and destructive. I have a different idea of love, altogether.* Love is waking up and finding your husband in your son’s room, singing songs and smiling although he is probably just as deliriously tired as you are. This is the opposite of knocking me off my feet. Rather, he is allowing me a bit more rest (and therefore sanity) to ensure that I’ll stay on them while he’s gone for the day.
Again, I have no use for fighting vicious dragons. Courage to fight imaginary things isn’t really courage at all. But I can appreciate a man who doesn’t flinch in the face of working full time AND going to grad school so that he can make some money while advancing his family’s situation.
I have never, never understood the idea of a man riding along on his horse, white or any other color, grabbing me up and riding into the sunset. Honestly, that would stress me out. What if I was in the middle of doing something? On the way to meet a friend or an appointment? What if I want my own horse? These days sleep is precious and not to be wasted messing around on some horse somewhere. Not to mention that I really don’t have the time to take ANOTHER SHOWER (the first two of the day were to rid my self of baby drool and boogers and chlorine from the pool) after smelling all horsey. I definitely appreciate a guy who wants to plan with me, not for me, and who thinks about my dreams for my life as much as he does his own.
*Although I will say for the record that the first time John ever touched me my knees went all wobbly. The story is this: We were walking down the hall after class (college, not high school) and he had just asked me out. Kind of. As we walked towards the stairs leading up out of the building he gave me a very playful/manly shoulder bump- you know when one person collides their shoulder with yours to make you go off balance a bit. As he did that I expected to be annoyed, as I usually was when guys did this kind of thing. Instead, I got the weirdest sensation in my legs. I felt like I was stepping down off a treadmill or walking after rollerblading all morning. I had three thoughts at the same time:
“This really happens?”
“I am a complete dork.”
and
“For goodness sake, does this mean I actually like this guy?”
Apparently Camper woke up at 4:30 this morning. I say apparently because I was completely asleep, and my wonderful husband not only got up and played with him, fed him, and changed him…but also seemed pretty happy about it. I woke up right before six, at which time I took the Bubbs downstairs to get him fed and make John’s lunch for the day. Bubbs would NOT EAT the yogurt/peaches/oatmeal concoction I made, although he’s been eating something similar every morning for about a week. He ended up eating a little bit of sweet potato, Cheerios, and banana pieces. Methinks he wanted to feed himself. Sigh. He was also very sad to see John go to work, which although pathetic, is also nice to see. I love it when he wants to be near his Daddy.
The second gift my lovely husband gave me today was Bubby’s early nap. Because he was up at 4:30am, he went down at 7am, and slept until 9:30. It was early enough in the day that I went right back to bed. Thus, slept in TWO TIMES. The rainy weather and Bubby’s long nap have left me feeling relaxed about the day, which is not usually how I feel about days in general. I’m the “get it done and get it done now!” kind of person. But today we’re just relaxing, doing some chores, cuddling (Camper is breaking the second top tooth I think, which means he’s uber clingy) and some reading. This afternoon I am teaching a new piano student her first lesson, which is always fun. So yes. I think it will be a good day.
And in honor of this good day, I think I’m going to tell the interweb some things I love about John. Because he is very lovable.
1) He calls me by my name. I know that might sound weird, but I very rarely hear him say (or write) “my wife,” and that makes me feel like he really thinks of my as an individual. I’ve always loved that about him.
2) I think if I were to get into Harvard Divinity, he’d be more excited that I would be. And I’d be REALLY excited. He very sincerely supportive of my happiness.
3) He brings me treats sometimes.
4) He really listens when I talk. If I say, “I talked to friend x today,” he’ll say, “Oh, the one that went to (insert school here) that you met (insert location here).” He remembers pretty much everything I tell him, to the point that if he’s not on top of something I told him I know he’s sick.
5) He would probably be happy being a cuddly sleeper, but he always gives me space in bed. I can’t sleep with anyone touching me/breathing on me/looking at me. He lets me hog the bed and the covers.
6) Every since we very first brought Camper home (and even before) he’s been very concerned about the sleep I get. He will often go without himself just so that I can have a little extra. I told him once, “The only uninterrupted sleep is the sleep you give me,” and I mean it. The best sleep I have is when I know that my husband is looking after our son. Apparently, even if I don’t know. I slept pretty well this morning!
7) He is NOT a petty person. If I get something new for myself, or have a fun day out, he’s not the type to feel like I owe him. He’s just happy I had a good time. (Usually I’m the one who then encourages him to get something new or go somewhere fun, just to “even it out.” But he’s taught me that marriage isn’t about getting all the same things, it’s about getting what you need, a little of what you want, which is different for different people.)
8 )He sings to Bubbs. All the time.
9) He will do what he has to do to provide for his family, even working jobs he rather not take. That makes me feel very secure, and very loved.
10) He’s serious about his master’s program. He’s finally found the path that will help him work toward his goals, and he’s going for it. I think it’s awesome, and it reminds me of how we were when we first met each other, before marriage and babies entered into the picture. Reclaiming your path while being a husband and a father is a challenging thing to do, and I’m so glad he’s up for it.
Ok, the Bubbs is making weird raptor noises and looking at me like, “Hey! Hold me!” so I think ten will suffice for now.
I love you John.
So last night, kind of last minute, John and I decided to go out to dinner somewhere. First day of work, home for the weekend, seemed like a good reason to get out. Camper was having a rough time going down, but once we had him under control, we left him cuddling with LaLa and went to go find ourselves some food.
The first place we went to was closed. As in, forever. So goodbye that wonderful establishment that made it so we didn’t have to go to Applebee’s. We UrbanSpooned another place nearby, and ended up standing in the middle of a seedy sports bar so loud that the waitress couldn’t even hear me ask if they served food. Neither one of us felt very happy about that place, so we walked across the street to another pub-type place which seemed promising until we saw the “No credit card” sign on the front door. Who carries cash anymore? Urg. We got back in the car and stopped at another restaurant that I’ve been eyeing since my parents (and I…) moved here when I was in High School. I THOUGHT it was too fancy for us, but my level of hunger was willing to pay for it. Turns out, it was a PIT. A gross one, and another bar! People getting drunk. Back in the car AGAIN, and down to a 99 Restaurant, because you can’t go wrong with something you know, right? Well, when the hostess doesn’t acknowledge your existence for the first 60 seconds you’re standing in front of her simply waiting to say “party of two,” it doesn’t bode well. When she finally looked at us we found out that it’d be a 40 minute wait, which at that point (an hour into our evening out) seemed ridiculous to me. So we went to Panera Bread.
Besides being overpriced, and having the words “anti-biotic free” on the menu every five words, it was fine. Mediocre. John wasn’t hungry by then, I was starving, and it was interesting to watch the teen fun going on around us. And by teen fun I mean TOTALLY DISTURBING TEEN BEHAVIOR. When John went to get our food, I took a gander at the table next to us, and saw that the MAYBE 15 year old girl had her hand on the…uh…PERSONAL ARA of the maybe 15 year old boy next to her under the table. She seemed to be..handling him…IN PANERA BREAD. So many things wrong with this I can’t even handle it. First of all, at that age no one should be handling ANY ONE, regardless of location. The fact that they chose a Panera Bread, sitting across the table from what I suppose to be peers, testifies to their utter inability to make choices of that nature responsibly. Where were their parents? What did they ask to go out last night? “Hey Mom, can I go get felt up with my friends?” No, seriously…did they tell their parents they had a date, or did they just say, “I’m going out with friends?” And what do you say to that? “Which friends?” “Oh you know, that girl that likes to feel me up under the table.” I doubt the critical info was shared. I had to grip my Panini a little tighter to keep myself from walking over there and saying, “What is your name? I’m calling your mother!”
After that we came home, and went to sleep. I think the BEST part of date night was cuddling with John, having some ice cream (late late secret treat!), and going to sleep by 10pm. Camper didn’t wake up til 5:30, but of course I compulsively woke up around 4 to check to see if he was breathing, go to the bathroom, and get some water. I think that my brief stint with breastfeeding ruined my ability to go through the entire night without drinking water. I almost get dehydrated if I don’t drink at least something while I should be sleeping.
So yes, it’s official. I’m old.
So John resigned from the job, because he has a NEW job, starting tomorrow! That means my husband will be home at night. All night, no more sleeping by myself! We changed the sheets on the bed yesterday, and he went and got his favorite pillow from the office, and I got all bleary-eyed. He will be HOME. So how did we spend our first evening of his resignation?
8pm Put Camper to bed, watch Chuck.
10:30pm Camper wakes up for his last minute feeding, eats two ounces, passes out. SCORE. Back to Chuck.
11:00pm Camper makes a funny noise, we interrupt Chuck to go see what is up. As I pick him up, he pukes down my front, and I smell the unmistakable smell of poo. Sick poo, which is different than well poo. I start to change him when John discovers that he’s pooed out his diaper into his crib.
11:15pm Laundry
11:30pm Watching mindless TV with a child, suddenly hyper, chewing on our fresh sheets between us.
12:00am Camper starts with the scratching. When he’s falling asleep, he scratches the sheets, my neck, my shirt, whatever he can get his hands on.
12:30am After a million Mommy kisses, Camper falls asleep and I relocate him to his crib. He then starts to scream.
12:32am He ceases crying, and begins banging his pacifier along the slats of his crib, prison style.
12:33am John goes in to cuddle Camper to sleep.
1am John comes back to bed, falls asleep, and promptly begins to snore/cough.
1:30am I instruct him to face the other way in bed.
2am I fall asleep.
4:30am Camper wakes up, comes into bed with me. John has mysteriously disappeared into the office bed, where he slept because his cold was making him restless, and keeping me up.
5am-7:30am In and out of sleep with Camper scratching me, and me replacing his pacifier every 15 minutes.
7:35am Up so that we can get to a doctor’s appointment for the baby.
So yeah, hopefully we get in the swing of NIGHTTIME again soon. Oh my. But yes, we ended up bringing Camper into the doctor this morning. He’s has a runny nose since May 10th (I know, dorky me, keeping track) and had a rash from about May 12-19. The last three days he won’t really eat, but he’s been pooing non-stop. When I called the doctor to ask if we should be concerned, they said probably not, but to bring him in anyway. He hasn’t had a significant fever, and the nurse practicioner we saw this morning did not think that he had Fifth Disease, based on the type of rash. More likely, our recent travels have done a doosy on his skin, he has allergies and may a slight cold, and is teething. All at the same time. She said that he’s not dehydrated, and that hopefully the nose will clear up when the pollen changes. Apparently if it IS allergies, there’s nothing they can do until he’s two. Poor kiddo. The snot is making it hard for him to eat, and messing up his poo. So there ya go. I guess you couldn’t expect anything different from a child made out of a combination of our genetic material. He never had a chance.
So tomorrow is John’s first day of DAYTIME work. Which means that he’ll get up super early, commute to New York, and be gone all day long. But hey, I get to see him all night, as long as he doesn’t snore, right?
PS Robin, if you are reading this, I keep dreaming (as in twice now) that you got a new washing machine. A huge one with a red lid, and that you won’t let anyone but me see it. And when I say HUGE, I mean HUGE, as in filling up the whole basement. I wonder what that means…
So last night was an interesting night. As my last night alone at home with Camper (John works nights, my parents have been on vacation) I thought I had make it through without wigging myself out. I know I’m a grown up…but I have to accept that I just hate being alone. Hate it. So this is the conversation I had with John via text messaging last night:
Me: You there?
John: Yeah. What’s up?
Me: I’m not sure. I’m just really uneasy. Can’t relax. Just needed to talk to you I guess…I will tell you my issues.
John: What are your issues?
Me: 1) My feet keep falling asleep and I keep imagining going all paralyzed and Camper crying. 2) The vice president said that he wouldn’t let his family fly right now and I’m scared my parents are bringing home the swine flu and I watched Private Practice where some crazy woman is going to cut out that woman’s baby and I keep hearing stuff.
At that point John called me. See here’s the thing. I know very well that I’m not going to go all paralyzed and that no one is going to show up and try and cut my baby out (mostly because I’m not pregnant anymore) and I’m not even REALLY THAT worried about the stupid swine flu. Moderately worried, yes. But not VERY. But every once in awhile I have to get a little help getting things out of my head. My Aunt and I talked about this the other day, the tendency our family has (many people have, really) to let fear get a little out of control. Most of the time these days I can get through it on my own. Relax, fall asleep. But I was SO CLOSE to asking John to come home last night that I knew I had to at least talk to him for a minute. He stayed on the phone with me while I checked on Bubbs, locked the windows downstairs and wandered around to shake the heebie jeebies off. Then we talked. For over an hour. He put on a headset so he could keep working while he chatted with me. It was kind of nice, like we were still dating. He was able to convince me that at the first sign of swine anything we’d get ourselves to the hospital, but that really…we most likely will not get it. He also distracted me from Private Practice, which I’m ridiculously addicted to, although it might be the most far-fetched medical drama yet. (Besides the internal baby-snatching, last night’s episode included the doctors switching two embryos for two women’s IVF, one of which was the LAST embryo one woman had left from her dead husband. Seriously.) Sometime around 1am I guess I was getting super sleepy, I had put a movie on in the background and ended up just falling asleep with it on. We said goodnight, and I was better. Wa la.
I guess John expected me to have a night like last night two nights ago after watching The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. *Spoiler freaking alert* I expected it to be uplifting, but instead I watched as an 8 year old German boy befriended a Jewish boy in a concentration camp, lost all faith in his father (who ran the camp), and then snuck into the camp to help his Jewish friend find HIS father, only to be herded with all the other men (naked, I might add) into a furnace and burned. Yeah. And that was the end. The guy in charge of the camp lost his own son, the mother went slowly crazy as she found out what her husband was up to, and both little boys died. It was awful.
But no, I was ok after that. It was Private Practice that got me in the end.
Today was busy- cleaned things up a bit this morning- made sure the laundry room was clear for my parents. I ran some errands. Went to the dry cleaner (drive through! genius!), brought a coupon to a store I went to last week and got $25 back from my purchase (wow!), then spent that $25 on a swim shirt for Camper and some travel bottles. I then ran by WalMart to pick up perscriptions and contacts and a few things here and there (dryer sheets, very important), and then back home. Bubbs took a nap while I made some sweet and sour kielbasa, then we all ate together and the Bubbs got a bath…and then he WENT TO SLEEP. WITHOUT CRYING. ALONE IN HIS CRIB.
Last night and tonight were so sweet. I got him in his nighty night diaper, brushed his teeth, and then we rocked for a little bit. Now when I sing to him he smiles behind his pacifier and buries his head into my chest. I say a little prayer for him, and then lay him down, and he seriously rolls over and goes to sleep. It’s wonderful. Just wonderful. It’s so nice to have a peaceful baby at bedtime, happy even. I know there will still be nights when he’s FREAKING OUT, but hopefully these sweet nights with the cuddling and the peaceful drifting off to sleep will be the norm.
I think I’m going to go check him though…because he’s perfected the art of pooing in his sleep. Good times, no?
Welcome to the weekend everyone.
After John got up this evening, he was up in the bathroom/office vicinity when I heard him scream, “ERIIINNN!!!!” Now, for a man that rarely raises his voice for anything, this was pretty unexpected. I, of course, assumed that he was dead and rushed to the stairwell.
No, he is not dead, but he is accepted for the MFA program at Fairfield starting this summer. And as much as I’d like to joke that it’s because I’m a fabulous editor, it was based wholly on the merit of his writing. The email said that his writing was suberb, and a lot of other adjectives that I can’t remember right now because my brain is fried. I remember something like, “sharp, current, relevant” or words to that end. His dialogue was especially good. His themes and undercurrents were interesting and deep. (Shoot me that I can’t think of another word for deep right now. If I didn’t respect my husband’s privacy so much I’d hack into his email and post the email directly.) In other words: really, really good. The head of the program accepted him without even having his complete application in hand- so he’s got to hussle and get that all in- but he’s in.
Now, all of a sudden, this program gives us something to shove our feet into. Although we may continue to endure the job we are currently enduring, we can work towards something bigger. The benefit of a low residency program is that where ever he gets a job, we can go. On the flip side, if we need to stay, we can stay. His program will require some travel, but it isn’t full-time on campus. That helps him juggle life and school and everything else in between.
I am feeling so blessed that he was able to hear back so quickly, and not only that, begin a program that will help him do the one thing that he really wants to do. Another step up. One more step towards good stuff. Plus, I like seeing the glow caused by his validation. It’s amazing to see someone that you love hear that they are good at what they love to do.
A good day.
9:42 on a Saturday night- and I’m WORN OUT. I just noticed that I haven’t updated in a couple of days (I know? What?) and it’s because I suddenly grew a life this weekend. Friday morning I had my first ever play group with Camper. I was apprehensive as he is my first child, and I am still embarrassed during meltdowns/freakouts, etc. I really thought that a playgroup during his naptime was probably a bad idea, but distinct need for socialization led me to strap him into the back of the car and go anyway. It was great. He just learned to sit up on his own unassisted (for periods of time) and he played with the other babies and chewed on new things and watched the big kids run and play. PLUS, I got to talk to people who love talking about kids nonstop for hours. It’s good we keep that kind of stuff in our own circles so as not to bore our friends who have no yet procreated.
The rest of the day Friday was spent wandering around a mall about an hour from our house. We got Bubby some clothes from H&H and a block/chain link type toy from BabiesRUs. (When I have more energy I will find out what it’s actually called, “chain link” sounds a wee dangerous. It is not fencing materials, I assure you.) I am going to TRY to save them for his Easter Basket, but we will see.
Today we ran around to get things ready for my Mom’s “surprise” B-day party. She and my Dad spend the night in Albany to celebrate, saw a show (Madeline Peyroux!) I invited some friends over, John made Queso and a chocolate cake, I assembled a fruity angelfood cake, and we just relaxed and had fun. I am proud to report that Camper slept through most of it. When John and I were first engaged we visited some of his friends in New Hampshire, and I was WAY impressed that their daughters went to bed and STAYED in bed, even as the grownups were playing games and being loud and laughing. My ultimate goal is to teach Camper to be a sturdy sleeper. Sturdy sleeping is a skill that will serve him into his college years and in case his future spouse suffers from a deviated septum. Moving on…we put him to bed, and aside from waking up to eat, he’s been sleeping soundly since 6:30pm. Good, good baby. Even though I felt a little sad that he was left out. But he’ll be all the happier for it.
So although I should be folding laundry or looking over the lesson for church tomorrow, I’m sitting here, writing this, and pondering what pattern sling I should get for Bubby. And then, I’m off to bed. And THAT is my weekend. Good one, huh? (Oh yeah! And I had a grinder on Friday. I heart grinders…)
Shortly after we were married, one of John’s professors told him he should write an essay about bed sharing. Apparently, after a life of sleeping alone, adjusting to another person’s presence and habits can be interesting. I’m not sure the essay ever even got started, but I’ve thought about that now and then. What would make it in? Perhaps the fact that EVERY NIGHT we have the following conversation:
Erin: You’re on my side!
John: Are you serious? Are you referring to your side as your 90% of the bed? Because if that’s the case….”
Erin: You are breathing on me.
John: I guess I’m going to turn over now because I have to BREATH to SUSTAIN LIFE.
It’s not as bad as all that. We do like to cuddle. We have cuddle time while finishing our TV show or while reading or chatting, but when it’s time for sleep- that’s it. We turn to opposite sides of the bed so as not to breath on each other, and then drift off into snooze land. Occasionally there is cuddling throughout the night. Like the time that Bubby was up all night and I finished this book about the plague (yeah, as in the Black Death…) and got myself so thoroughly depressed that I got back into bed and “accidentally” woke John up to get a hug so that I wasn’t so sad. Yes. I cried. Mostly these days, though, our nighttime convo goes like this:
Me: Was that Bubbs?
John: Yeah.
Me: Sigh.
John: When was he up last?
Me: An hour ago.
John: I’ll go. You sleep.
Me: says nothing because I’m already asleep
or
Me: Was that Bubbs?
John: deep breathing
Bubbs: GOO
Me: Sigh.
Bubbs: GOOOOOO
Me: Hey Bubby…what are you doing awake?
So why the sleep time diatribe?
John has a job. This is very, very good news for our little family. It means we can pay our bills. Pull our weight, etc. The job, however, is not ideal. (Aside from being a job. Which makes it super ideal.) He’ll work from 10pm to 7am- which means he’ll need to sleep during the day (which I really hope he can do with a 5 month old hanging around and all the other activity that happens around these parts) and work at night. My luxurious morning nap will also come to an end. Which is not so cool. I really LOVE that nap and am UBER grateful for it. My favorite child still diggs waking up a few times every night and especially loves just BEING UP between 2 and 4am. But we will adjust. More than the sleep, even, it’s nice just having a couple hours when I can REALLY sleep- not listening for Bubbs, just me dead to the world. I can relax like this because I know he’s with his Daddy. Every other hour of sleep I get there is always a part of me listening. Always listening. But I guess grownup life and reality had to catch up with me, and the side effect of trying to get our life in order (i.e. unemployment), although sometimes convenient for napping, is thankfully coming to an end.
So today I am grateful and worried at the same time. Although we might not be the cuddlesleeperchamps of America, it’s nice to know he’s there, breathing in the opposite direction, each and every single night. Hopefully I will not suffer from having been spoiled, and hopefully John will be OK working nights and not become too exhausted, and hopefully this will be a short stint as we keep applying to (and hearing from at least one last week!) other places who would be a better employment match for us. New things all the time, huh?
