I feel like I am woefully behind on blogging, but when I think back over the last few months I can’t think of a whole lot about which to blog. The really newsworthy stuff wasn’t any fun to go through and still isn’t any fun to think about, hence no in-depth blog entries on Michael’s awful bout of croup in January (complete with a night in the hospital), his ear infection in early February (thankfully he takes pretty much any kind of medicine like a champ, except for generic orange-flavored acetaminophen), and his current case of cough/congestion (heading into our second week of it—I’m watching him like a hawk for the slightest indication that it’s more than a cold… again). But through it all he’s such a happy little guy, even when he’s feeling crummy, that I’m constantly reminded to be thankful that it isn’t worse. Unfortunately feeling thankful that it isn’t worse serves as a reminder that it could be worse, and then I have to stop before I work myself into a panic over all the possibilities (most of them ridiculous).
The silver lining to all of this is that despite feeling crummy for a good part of the last two months, Michael has started sleeping better. And by “better” I mean he hasn’t woken up more than twice in one night in at least two weeks, maybe three. We have also finally broken into the double digits for times he has slept through the night, which is wildly exciting. This means that oh-so-slowly Alex and I feel like we are starting to catch up on well over a year’s worth of missed sleep. Or at least Alex would be catching up if he could shake the cough/cold he’s had since the beginning of December, and I would be catching up if I didn’t wake up to Michael’s cough at 4:30, wonder if it’s turning into croup, and then not be able to calm down enough to fall back to sleep before the alarm goes off at 5:40.
Yes, 5:40. AM. Part of the price of those wonderful summer months of freedom is that Alex leaves for work before 7am most mornings—and for Lent we gave up the snooze button AND I am getting up with him even on the days when I don’t have to go in to work. The idea was to practice discipline by getting up early (with a joyful attitude, in theory) and practice order in my life by having some quiet time before Michael wakes up. In reality that has happened maybe twice so far, and the other days I have barely managed to drag myself out of bed wondering if it’s Easter yet.
And these days which are starting earlier due to Lent are ending later thanks to soccer season. Alex is assistant coach for the girls’ JV team again this year, and while he loves the sport and I love watching him love it, coaching is not particularly easy on us as it means Alex gets home between 6:00 and 6:30 most evenings instead of by 4:00. It seems a bit whiny to complain about an extra two hours a day—and it’s only for two months—but oh boy are those a long two hours! Particularly since that that is the time of day when a) I have rather pressing things to do in the kitchen like cook dinner, and b) Michael has a pronounced dislike for me being in the kitchen unless I am holding him. If I am trying to do something in the kitchen he will follow me around insisting that I pick him up, but if I take him into the living room and sit down to play with him, he wanders off to a different part of the living room to play by himself. It’s not so much that he wants my attention, he just doesn’t want the kitchen to have my attention. If he feels this way about a room in our apartment, imagine how he’ll feel about a sibling someday! (No, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to be a big brother when that day comes, God willing, just not around dinner time). One activity which (sometimes) reconciles him to allowing me to cook dinner is playing in "his" cupboard—literally.
The other activity which keeps him happy in the kitchen is playing with a bowl full of soapsuds. This brilliant idea came from a friend who is way better at thinking up activities for little ones than I am (which doesn't take much, but she is seriously talented at it), but I think her son is much less likely to put anything and everything in his mouth than my son is. After Michael ate half of the last batch of soapsuds before I caught him (creating a very impressive Santa-style beard) we will no longer be using dish soap for this activity, but rather baby soap. At least that is manufactured with the possibility that it will be ingested in mind.
All in all we are staying busy (or at least Alex is busy, and therefore I feel busy, and Michael is always finding new things to do/get into, and therefore I feel even busier).
