Outwit. Outlast. Outplay.

We have been playing a little bit of "Sleep Survivor" around my house this past week. There have been experiments and challenges that keep us all on our toes vying for the power in the family. And it's all centered around getting our son to sleep in his "big boy bed".

As I've mentioned before, he was getting out of his crib for the past couple of months. So we figured if we are going to go through all this rigmarole, why not just get the big bed and get all this over with. And I'll admit that in the back of my mind I thought, who knows...maybe it will be better if he has a big bed.

Nope.

We started this process just after my last post, so I'll try to sum up the past 10 days of sleep angst in the most succinct way possible.

Basically, he didn't want to fall asleep on his own in the bed. He needed to be lulled, rocked, sang to, back-rubbed, magic spelled upon - whatever we could do to get him sleepy enough to put him down in the bed so he wouldn't get back up. If we didn't, we were in for an hour or two of the same looping roller coaster over and over and over again. And I like roller coasters. But this was enough to make me want to scream after 20 minutes.

So we took the easy way out. At the time it seemed like the only sensible option.

Now how many times have we said that to ourselves?

Turns out we have created a monster. Now I feel I need to preface this all by mentioning that we never had that many problems with our girls. My oldest fought the big bed for a week or two, but after our consistent "go back to bed" talk she gave in to our wisdom. And our younger daughter never even fought it. It was a non-event.

Nowadays, we just don't have the energy or time to do all head-to-head combat that we did with our oldest. Or so we thought. Now we are paying the price. Not only would he not go to sleep without us cuddling him into his slumber, he started waking up during the night and coming to get us. Twice each night.

Ugh. Now we were in a pickle.

He was so tired during the day after all his nighttime shenanigans that he started taking long naps. After a few days of this he was all ass-backwards with his sleep. He wasn't going to sleep at night until 9 or 9:15p, only to get up some time between midnight and 2am, and again around 4 or 5am, and then finally he was up for good at 6am. And then he'd take a 3 hour nap during the day.

Now I can't be positive since I've been so sleep deprived lately, but I'm pretty sure this a HUGE step backward in our sleep regimen. It's like we have a 3 month old again. And this boy has been sleeping through the night for almost 2 straight years with nary a peep.

Again with the Ugh.

After a tryst at 2am that lasted until 3:30am with both my husband and myself up trying to figure out what the hell we had done wrong to create this situation, I knew that something needed to change.

I started doing the math and figured out that he was sleeping about 11 to 12 hours every day. Which the doctor assured me at his 2 year well-check was perfectly normal. And she also happened to mention that he'd probably give up his nap sooner than his sisters, since boys usually give it up sooner than boys.

That was the only green light I needed to decide that we would once again forge ahead and start going without naps. Why not go back to the crib? Why not go back to the head-to-head combat and the nauseating "go back to bed" cycle? Because I am trying to outwit this little dude. Or at the very least outplay him.

My reasoning was that he would be so tired if he didn't take one that we could put him down around 7:30p and he would be way easier to get to sleep. And we wouldn't be dorking around with him until 9 at night. And hopefully he'd be so tired that he would sleep through the night again.

Now the moment of truth. You are all wondering, did that stroke of genius work? Or was she just so desperate that she tried something really stupid and she'll be voted out of her family?

So far, so good. Of course the first day we tried to skip the nap, on Sunday, he fell asleep in his car seat at 3pm before we even pulled out of the parking space we were in. We let him sleep an hour that day. Then on Monday he went without a nap. Monday night he went to bed at 7:30p and was, unfortunately, up at 2am. But just that once, so that was an improvement.

Yesterday he had another short snooze, but was easy to put down by 8pm, and stayed asleep until 4am. A marked improvement! Except he was up again at 5am, and then 6am for good. Once again, Ugh.

But I think we might be on to something. I think we will be able to outlast him at this point, since we have outwitted him for a few nights now and we can finally have the 8 to 9pm hour back to ourselves again.

Now on a related note, sadly, our younger daughter has gotten in the mix the past couple nights. When we had that ugly session I mentioned that lasted an hour and a half the other night, he was crying so much with us trying to put him back to bed over and over that she woke up and started crying too. Then this seemed to have reset her sleep cycle, and the past 2 nights she has been up at 2am. She wakes up, looks around, and then claims "it's too dark!".

Well duh. It's nighttime. But that bit of outwitting doesn't really work on a 4 year old in the middle of the night.

So last night I had a pep talk with her, which usually works when she goes into these cycles. I am determined to outwit her as well, and get some damn sleep around here.

It seems it hit home a bit, since she started talking to her sister this time when she woke up. She was complaining to her, hoping that her woes could still be heard, but that she wouldn't wake up my husband or myself as she had promised.

One point for her in the outwit department. She is a worthy adversary.

But I will not be outplayed and I will definitely outlast.

Life Moves Too Fast

In the words of the famous Ferris Bueller, life moves pretty fast. And if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, when you have kids, you have a physical reminder of just how fast the time goes by. You watch them grow up, and as it's happening, you barely notice it. Then, before you can say ""do you have to make pee-pee on the potty?" your oldest child is off and running, riding her bike around the neighborhood looking for a friend to play with her and talking about the cute boys in her class.

These past couple of months have been a bit outstanding for my oldest. First, she got her ears pierced. A sweet, cute, slightly painful moment of her childhood that came and went. Now we are already past the swab-the-piercings-three-times-a-day stage and we are off to buy new earrings that she can wear.

Then she got her hair chopped off, cutting off ten inches to donate to Locks of Love. This haircut gave her a much more sophisticated look, even though I was sure it was that long hair that was making her look so much older this year.

Next up she completes 1st grade and is now an "incoming" 2nd grader. 2nd grade? Really? It just somehow sounds so much older than 1st grade. Of course it is, but that's beside the point. And the fact that some of her good friends that are one month older than her are starting the 3rd grade is just startling to me. Her birthday missed the cut-off by one day. One single day. And that means she has to stay at home one more year than those friends. When they are off to college and she is still under my wing for her senior year, I will be very thankful for that one single day. I'm not sure she will be though.

Now see what I've gone and done? I've already aged her to high school in a single paragraph. But that's really how it feels around here lately.

We recently decided that she will have her own room as well. We are going to put the younger two together in a room and give her the room she currently shares with her sister. And she'll even have a queen bed too. I think this is making her a little power hungry in the family, but so far she is handling it well. And she really needs her own space these days. My younger daughter and my son are pretty close in their sleep schedules, and also love playing and being with each other, so we figured, why not? We'll see how it all falls into place. Right now we are in the midst of trying to get our son to sleep in a big boy bed, step one of the plan. More on that another time....much more. Suffice it to say, me need sleep.

This week my oldest made fast friends with a 9 year old little girl that moved in next door. And she's always got some friends down the street - one direction or the other - that she wants to go out and play with. This is the first summer that she is stretching her wings a bit, although still within my stated boundaries. And while it's so freeing for me, as well as her, it's a little bittersweet.

Especially when it comes to the fact that she's still just a 7 year old at heart. And I mean that literally. She might think and act like a 10 year old most of the time, and even a 12 year old some of the time, but she's still emotionally just a 7 year old. And I've found that while she loves spending time out playing with her friends, or over at her friend's house all day, she comes home and is even more needy of my time. It quickly becomes physically obvious that she still needs a lot of my support and love and attention. She'll throw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist, squealing "mommy!!". And she's right there when her little sister tries to get in on the action, jockeying for my lap or my attention.

This was never more evident than this week when she went to a Little Gym camp day. Long story short, but you can drop in to their camps and do just one day, or a couple, or the whole week. So I had a certificate and figured I'd use it for one morning this week while she wasn't doing anything else. She had just spent the entire day before with her friends from school at a play date, so I hadn't seen her much in the past 24 hours. I dropped her at the gym and she's perfectly fine, interested to see how it's going to go. And even though she hasn't done a Little Gym class in a while, she's been there a ton while her sister does her class, so she's very familiar with the teachers and the space.

But an hour into it I get a call. "She's homesick and wants to go home." They put her on the phone and she's crying saying she wants to leave.

I'm so shocked by it all that I don't know what to make of it. I ask her if someone hurt her or said something to her. Because I'm sure that this child can't just simply be homesick. But indeed, that's all it is. You'd think after that last stint of camp earlier this summer, and the occasional tears that went along with it (although those were before she actually got there and started having fun with the other kids), I would have been more prepared for this. But she came out of that experience so well I'd just about forgotten it. And besides, this was just one single morning, and she understood the whole thing. But she said all the kids were "strangers" and she just wasn't having any fun and she missed me.

While her brain may have been telling her "sure - this will be fun", her heart was telling her that she just wasn't as happy at a camp full of "strangers" when she could have been in the nurturing company of her mother.

I know that she will continue to want to stretch her wings and fly far for the rest of this summer. And she'll fool me into thinking that she's capable of handling it all and she's ready for the freedom.

But she'll always be my little girl at heart. Both in her heart, and in mine.

Little Wonders

Today, for whatever reason, I was at my wit's end.

Wait a minute. Hummmm....let me think about that. Oh, I got it. I was at my wit's end because my three kids had eaten all the way through my wits until there was only a little crumb left. Yup, that's the reason why.

Although truth be told we were having a perfectly fine day. And in fact we've had quite a few good days lately. I think we may be turning a bit of a corner in our family now that our youngest is just over 2 years old. Although today a bit of my sleeve got caught in the door and pulled me back around that proverbial corner again, showing me that I shouldn't count my preschoolers before they've hatched.

Today's wit-eating all revolved around a crying 2 year old after he woke up early from his nap, which he sorely needed since he was up this morning at 5:45am. As far as the morning routine goes, he's been pretty consistent with getting up at 6:20am. He teased us a couple days and went until 7:30, but then he was right back at the 6am times just when we were starting to catch up on our sleep.

The 6:20's are still earlier than any of us need to be up, and way earlier than I want to be up. And then the occasional 5:30's are just down right rude. But to his defense they are driven by bad dreams that he can't seem to get over, and always seem to happen at that time. Then the morning starts even earlier than usual. In fact, my loving, charming, handsome and incredibly virile husband has been the morning volunteer, getting up with the little lad while I catch some more shut-eye. He's a saint. I'm hoping, more for their sake than mine, that our son goes into a later morning routine once the daylight time shifts and the sun isn't rising at 5:30am anymore. We'll see.

So, back to today. Here I was with a crying 2 year old, and I was just moments away from starting a scavenger hunt with my oldest. I had suggested it and gotten everyone excited about the idea, and then someone came along and rubbed his snotty tears all over the plan. And I mean that literally, since all the little scraps of paper that my oldest had prepared where lost somewhere in the juggle of my balancing act with the 30+ pound boy-wonder (plus his two favorite stuffed animals) and a sippy cup and a snack, all bobbling around as I tried to find something, anything, that he would eat so his mood would cheer up.

I endured about 45 minutes of this crying, with him occasionally pointing to something that he wanted to eat or do, only to change his mind when I went and got it and put it in front of him. All the while still juggling his dense little body and those of his two stuffed friends. No matter what I offered or tried, they were all short-lived remedies.

And of course during this time my sweet oldest child is getting her little sister's clues ready for the scavenger hunt. I really wanted to help get hers ready, since I was put in charge of doing them for my oldest and she was in charge of doing one for her little sister, but I had absolutely no patience left. Every time she would ask me something I'd just bark at her "not now!". But she was a trooper and stuck to her task at hand.

Then my younger daughter decided to start some coloring with the book I was trying to show my son to calm him down. Which was fine, but she didn't want to share and let her brother color, or rather scribble, on it, so we got yet another showering of tears.

At this point all three kids were in separate places, all asking me for things, or else just slobbering and snotting all over me. No one was especially upset besides my son, but I was just wearing out and wanting to run away screaming.

I felt pulled in too many directions. And frustrated from all the crying. A headache was starting. And I had a momentary flash of going to our bathroom and closing the door behind me. I knew he would just be blubbering on the other side of it, but I thought for a second there that I might find some kind of reprieve. Alas, I knew I was fooling myself. Plus I knew my sitter was only a few minutes away from showing up. Which in itself was enough to hold on for, as well as enough to keep me from locking myself in any room, lest she show up to such a lovely scene.

So I grabbed my son, still with his 2 stuffed friends, and took him out to the garage. I pulled out a chair and sat in the driveway. And then I tried the old distraction thing and said "do you see an airplane? a bird? a helicopter?". We don't get too many helicopters around our house, but he's really into them lately, so I thought I'd give it a try. What the hell.

But I got nada. Still the crying.

And just then, out of nowhere, flies a monarch butterfly. It makes a few circles right in front of us, and then pulls one of its friends out of hiding and they do a little fluttery dance right before our eyes. We were both mesmerized, watching them flit around with effortless beauty.

Then the tears stopped. And the smiles started. And we enjoyed the show.

Then I thought to myself, isn't that just so typical of parenthood? Just when you are all worn out and you think you have nothing left, something beautiful happens and you are reminded of life's smallest wonders.

You get an amazing smile and some cheerful giggles, a little snuggle, and the world is right again. You are restored to your normal level of sanity.

Then you go on with your scavenger hunt, looking forward to a little treat at the end.

My kids got some Oreos after their scavenger hunt.

I got the ability to leave three happy children with the babysitter and get some quality "me" time.

God bless the butterflies and babysitters of the world.

Balancing Act

This past week has presented some new challenges for me. These challenges seem to be pulling me in different directions, so I am having to really work to maintain my balance in it all. I feel a bit like the guy we saw at the circus last week, that balances on all these rolling tubes stacked on each other. You just never know which way you'll get pulled, but you do you best to stay on your feet the whole time. Really, I think I just summed up motherhood right there.

This week for the first time ever, my oldest has voiced a strong desire not to be social. She's been at a local camp for a two week session. This is a camp hat she was at last summer and the one before, so she's familiar with it. And she's loved it every time. This year, four days into her 9-day camp, she exclaims she's done with it. Last Thursday they went on a field trip, and we all thought she was going someplace we go to a lot, but as it turns out, the event was sort of mislabeled and they went someplace different.

But where they went was not really the point. The point is more that my oldest daughter can go with the flow in almost any situation, so long as she understands all the parameters of said situation. In other words, she's a things-must-go-according-to-plan-or-I-must-be-forewarned-of-possible-detours-lest-a-meltdown-occur kind of gal.

So when this sort of detour arrived, she was not very happy. I don't know what happened at camp, but when she got home I got an earful. And a cupful of tears to go with it. Add to this unexpected surprise two little girls that seem to have taken on the role of camp bullies and you get one unhappy 7 year old. I guess these twin girls have been up to the usual elementary school mischief; calling people names, pushing them, cutting in line. Since when do we have 6 and 7 year old bullies, anyway? The drama is starting way to early these days.

After much talking I surmised that in a sense my daughter was homesick at day camp. It seems she'd much rather just hang out with me and her siblings at home, and occasionally roam the neighborhood for a playmate or two. When I proposed if she'd like camp better if one of her best friends was there in her group, she said she'd still not want to go if those "mean girls" were there.

Now don't get me started on how upset it makes me as a mother to see these girls stealing some of my child's carefree fun from her. Mama bear has her teeth bared and is ready to go tell those girls - and their mother - just where they can put that cut-in-line name-calling crap. Aarrrrgh.

But it's a waste of energy to do that, so I just day dream about it instead. And I tell my daughter - not in so few words - that we must make the best of it. The pep talks are working a little as she's having more fun this week, and she's been able to ignore the mean girls or steer clear of them so she can still have some fun. Although there were still tears showing up when it was time to go to camp yesterday. And whining today. This is just so unheard of for her.

But summer must go on.

Now on the flip side of this occasion is my younger daughter, who is now asking to spend more time out of the house. She got it in her head quite a few months ago that she wanted to try staying at her preschool all day, which includes a nap. I think a friend of hers was doing this from time to time, and most of the kids in her class are there for day care as well as preschool, so she's one of the few that leaves everyday at 12:30pm.

Well I finally decided to stop saying "someday" and we made it happen today. Right now she's at the school, seemingly refreshed from her nap, and playing for the afternoon with her friends. As she says, "it's like a play date at school". And that brings up another one of her requests; more play dates. And she wants more sleepovers too, like her big sister.

Seriously, who is this girl? I think I've gotten so used to her being so close and holding on so tight, that now that she's starting to let go I barely can get it through my head that she will really be okay if she does all these things. I don't think there will be any tears or "come pick me up right now" demands. She is telling me that she's ready and I'm starting to finally come around in believing her.

So here I am, letting one child go further down the path on her own, while the other that's been out frolicking all these years just wants to stay by my side.

As if I never noticed how totally different they are from each other. Here it is, right in my face.

Now I just need to remember how to balance in the middle to make it all work.