Tying Up Loose Ends

Sterling was our first baby, and therefore, our guinea pig baby. We had very little idea of what to do with the red, crying mass of cells that wouldn't sleep. We held him through naps, and co-slept, and sang, and bounced, and rocked, and swayed our way through five miserable months until he began night-waking EVERY 30 MINUTES. In desperation, we devoured sleep-help books and ultimately put him in his crib one night and listened for 3 painful hours while he cried himself into exhaustion and finally gave up the fight. By night three, he cried 15 minutes and slept through the night, but we swore we would never repeat the process that had brought us the brink of insanity.

Fast-forward 7 years, and three children later, and we have Church Baby Sleep Nightmare: Redux. Elam has been sleeping wedged up next to me for the last five months. We have held him for naps. We have tried cautiously putting him in his crib, only to have him awaken immediately or 20 minutes later and not want to go back to sleep. This kind of fragmented sleep is bad for all of us, but especially his little developing brain.

How did we end up here... again? I think it was pity. The poor little baby would wake screaming with tummy pain for the first few weeks and we had no idea why until I cut out dairy, and tomatoes, and anything more than bland. But even then, it wasn't a perfect fix, and by then the natural sleep patterns were disturbed and he had gotten used to the co-sleeping arrangement. We tried a couple of times to allow him to fall asleep on his own, but all we ended up with was a distraught baby and a wreck of a mother. Lately, he'd been waking me up every two hours at night to eat and in-between from his restlessness. Not one night-full of sleep in five months. And I need my sleep.

Three nights ago, we put him in his crib for the night at 8pm, much earlier than his usual bedtime with us, and he cried for a little while and fell asleep and did pretty well most of the night. The last couple of nights, he's waken to cry and I've either fed him or let him fall back asleep on his own (read: crying). Last night, he went to sleep at 7pm (target bedtime) and woke once for his middle-of-the-night feeding (where he flirted with me in the dark with wide-eyes and then quietly fell back asleep in his crib), and then I had to wake him at 7am this morning. It was GLORIOUS! Hallelujah! He even did well for naps yesterday. In fact, I felt bad making him learn so much at once, so I tried to rock him to sleep as usual two days ago and he wanted nothing to do with it! That's when I knew we were golden. Two mornings ago he woke up on his own at 9am, and laid happily in his crib until I came in to get him. It's AMAZING what a good chunk of sleep can do! ...Poor sleep deprived baby...

This was before sleep training. He had to be clutching me.

Now he thinks he's all big or something since he can sleep on his own and got upgraded to a big-boy car seat and got to sit with us at the dinner table last night in his high chair. He's rolling all over the floor to get things he wants. Evie usually sounds the alarm when he's getting out of bounds and I run back into the living room to plop him back onto his blanket, or at least somewhere he's not going to knock himself unconscious.

But look at his cute little baby face! I'm in love, I'm in love, and I don't care who knows it! (Yes, I quote Elf. Don't judge.)




Little Miss cracked us up yesterday when she called Hylton: Hylt, lylt, the shylt, wylt. She just busted it out of nowhere. I told Doug he must have genetically passed on his street talk to her. I swear the man is black and just doesn't know it.



We had a nice day last week when Doug was home and we were in-between illnesses, so we went for a ride in the park. The vitamin D felt great! We're seriously considering a relocation to a drier climate. I still love how green Oregon is, and I used to love the rain until I had kids... or maybe until I got older... but it can just be miserable sometimes! (Or should we say 9 months out of the year??)



I would miss the Trilliums, though, and the rainforests and the beach... sigh...



Whoa! Hottie alert!





Sterling has been dragging his feet when it comes to tying shoes (did you catch that?). He just really hasn't cared, until suddenly he did. He felt embarrassed that the other kids at school could tie their laces and he couldn't. Whatever motivates him, right? It took surprisingly little time, despite the tears of frustration in-process. Within a half an hour he learned my super-tricksy way of tying shoes that I learned from my sister who learned it from a swim-buddy in school. ...It's on the down-low. 'Cause that's how we roll. Yo.
It was so great to see his confidence soar once he figured it out. And I love, love, love that even though he wanted to give up, he didn't. And that is a very valuable life lesson! Do, or do not, there is no try. (Yeah, I quote Yoda too. What?)

My Loveys

There is absolutely nothing I love more than being a mom. Life is good. The End.

White River West

Last weekend, we went tubing at Mt. Hood. It was the first time for the kids, and the first time Doug and I had been on the mountain in the snow since before we had Sterling. Yeah, we don't get out much anymore. My parents brought the cousins up with them, so my kids were thrilled to see them and play in the snow together.

There is a whole lot of pink goin' on here!

Sterling and Jared took turns pulling eachother up the trail we had to hike to find a good hill.

Novie got the better of two grown men in this snowball fight.

Papa showin' Hylti the ropes when it comes to a good snowball (to throw at Daddy, of course).


We finally caught up to the Rowes who had been there playing for a while, despite us all leaving town at the same time. Lots of kids+long car ride+hungry baby= mind numbingly slow progress. Most of us camped out at the bottom of the hill and watched as the others went up and down.

Baby fell asleep off and on while being carried in the back carrier, but mostly I just sat in an innertube and held him while he slept. He didn't much care for the wind in his face, but he was such a little trooper and was very good.

The pile of snow to the left is actually Larry's dog Remi. I had to look at this for quite some time to figure out what it was.


Proper snow for a proper snow angel!


Doug and Larry played just as hard as any of the kids.


It was almost time to go and I still hadn't been down the hill, which was fine with me, but Doug pressured me into going. I'm not much of a thrill seeker. At all. I always picture how things will go wrong. In this case, the image of me hitting a bump, catching air off the tube and flying face-first into a rock-hard snowbank, thereby rendering me a quadriplegic for the rest of my life was forefront in my mind. Doug finally guilted me into it by playing on my motherly sensitivities. Evie wanted another ride before we left. So we went. And I contemplated my own death the whole way down.

Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic, but let's just say it's not really my favorite thing.

Note about the movie: The first clip is Doug trying to take a picture of himself and the baby, but he has the camera turned on and doesn't realize that the baby is silent-screaming.

Then Doug threatens to kick us down the mountain if I don't go.

Then Doug comes back to Sterling who goes down the hill, losing his sled, Jared comes down right after him (almost hitting him) and carries the sled with him, and then someone else comes flying down and almost hits Sterling again, and carries the sled even further.

Unfortunately, when Doug panned back to Sterling, he totally missed Larry taking the dog on the tube down the hill. The dog did not care for the ride, so he jumped off and Larry ran over him with the tube. I'm pretty sure Remi will never get on another innertube again.

The sun began to go down, so we went back to the parking lot. And since Larry does nothing unless he can go big, he had the generator set up and they cooked hot dogs and chili and hot chocolate.

Mr. Attitude.

And here's a couple more pictures of the fatty grub, for good measure:

My little copper haired, red eyed vampire baby sitting in his new Bumbo. Aunt Shell found it for him at the Goodwill for $3!

Yes, those cheeks are as soft and delicious as they appear on film.