No more bedtime cuddles

Max is definitely a big boy.

As Kyle helped Cate read her book, all four of us cuddled on her bed. After a bit, Max went to get his book, so he and I moved over to his room and laid in his bed while I read to him. When I attempted to cuddle and fall asleep with him, he said, "Move! I want just me to sleep here!"

Yeah, guess he's not scared of sleeping by himself anymore...

Quiet brings ramblings in the rambler

It's getting late. I can't recall the last time Kyle went to bed before me. He only goes before me when he is sick, as is the case this evening.


The kids are both sick too.

I took Cate back to Urgent Care this afternoon--her second trip in five days. Her fever would never go away. Finally, an ear infection was detected today. Poor girl. She was out three days of school last week and missed her first school Valentine's Day party, a school Sock Hop, her basketball game, her date with Kyle to see a play at the Children's Theater and she is now 0-for-2 on attending friend birthday parties. For the most part, she has been a real trooper. And of course, every time she so much as coughs to clear her throat, I get paranoid about her potential of having an asthmatic reaction.


Oh, Urgent Care clinic and Pediatrics office...just retain my bankcard number on file, okay?

But the quiet is nice. I'm not a morning person. No, I also believe if I tried to wake up a few minutes early to seek some solitude, it would not happen. Surely, I would hear the sound of tired little feet tripping my way, climbing up onto the couch and curling into the bend of my legs. It would be nice, but it would not be the quiet that is my companion at the moment.

It seems odd to think the hum from the lightbulb and the click-click-clicking of the handheld keyboard can be so comforting; an even more odd notion of comfort is the never-ending dull roll of the airplanes above arriving to and departing from the airport nearby.

This quiet gives me time to think. I can choose to freak out about everything I should be doing and fret about what I can't control or I can turn it around; let it go and be the best I can be each day, by being good not only to others but also to myself.

I think I am seeing progress here...

Tomorrow is coming, whether I like it or not. I choose to like it.

A sucker evening

Okay, so things are settling down into normalcy. No more vacations or hospital stays are in our near future. So what is there to blog about? How about my evening with Mr Mischief himself, Max?

We had essentially weened Max off a pacifier prior to our trip to DC in April. But then as we were thinking about the flight, I got a little concerned that he may have ear pressure trouble in the airplane. So we decided it would be good to have the pacifier along for him to use. And it worked out really well. Problem--we didn't do an effective job cutting him off again upon our return and we really have become dependent upon the pacifier to, well uhm, pacify him when we need him to calm down. He used those bad boys a lot last week on vacation. I think we have three around somewhere. The key word in that last statement is somewhere.

This evening, Cate was a really good girl and so I let her stay up to watch a movie. Max hardly took a nap and was uber cranky. So I get him ready for bed and I'm looking in the usual places for his "sucker" as my guarantee for a quick trip to dreamland and I can't find one anywhere. So Max was not happy at all when I put him in his bed without his big sister and without his sucker. I can't tell you the number of times he has come out of the room and I have had to haul him back in. In between each coming and going, I would search around the house for one of the suckers. No luck whatsoever and these are good days where the house is perfectly tidy. Crap! I even went so far as calling Kyle during his guy's night out to see if he knew where any of the suckers might be. Fortunately for Kyle, it went to voicemail.

I got so frustrated with him constantly coming out that it took me a while to get smart--it finally occurred to me to put Max in the top bunk. Boy, was he stinking mad! He's still really apprehensive to get down on his own. So he bawled and bawled, but he has stayed up there and it's quiet now. I just hope he isn't in there pulling out all of the kleenex from Cate's kleenex box!

Monkey Max

We have been so, so lucky that the kids' bedtime routine has been going rather smoothly for the past two years. Our lucky streak may be coming to a screeching halt.

In one day, Max figured out how to:

• climb the ladder to Cate's upper bunk.
• turn the doorknob to open a door.

Ugh!

There was a lot of in and out with the kids last night. Cate would holler, "Daddy!" and Kyle would walk in with Cate tattling that Max had climbed up on her bunk.

Again. And again. And again.

Then Max started opening the door and stood in the doorway with just about the same look as in this photo . Mischief was written all over his face. So Kyle moved him to our room. After Max had gotten up two more times, Kyle became completely exasperated and gave him his pacifier with a threat, "now go to sleep or I will take away your sucker!", at which Max hunkered down in our bed, safekeeping the pacifier in his mouth.

Tonight I'm solo on bedtime detail as Kyle is away golfing (lucky guy!). These type of antics usually only happen when both of us are home versus only one being at home, so I'm already anticipating what will possibly happen tonight. Wish me luck!