From Tragedy Comes Patience

Yesterday, when the news broke about Sandy Hook Elementary, it took me two or three hours to turn on the TV. I'm not sure what it was, if I was so hard at work that I put it off, or if I couldn't bear to think about it. Or, maybe I knew that once I turned the news on, I wouldn't be able to pull myself away for over an hour.

What is it about these details that we seek? I imagine that we think if we listen long enough, we'll hear the solution to the problem: We can prevent this with more security. It won't happen again if we outlaw guns. More mental health care will keep us all safe. After realizing that I had stood in front of my television, mouth agape and stomach queasy for longer than a half hour, I shut it off.

Then I returned 20 minutes later and turned it back on.

Off again. What do I think about? Always first comes the realization that one of those children could be MY child, lost forever, making my life ever dark, sad, and bleak. Then comes the faces of the children that I've worked with, the teachers that I have interacted with, the cop that I am married to that may all some day have to face this frightening and deadly situation.

What do I do?

What do any of us do? I've read all day on Facebook the ponderings of how we should be honoring these victims and how we stop it from ever happening again. My fingers have twitched as I've wanted to add my views and stances. But I've not typed a single comment. I just can't.

I don't have any answers.

So, this weekend, I've done the only things I'm capable of. I have smiled constantly at my daughter. I squeezed my husband extra tight as he headed off to the police station for work. I have been exceptionally patient with my daughter, as she has tantrums from exhaustion and missing her daddy. Any other weekend I would have snapped at her. Any other day I would have turned on cartoons and retreated to my office for a break.

Not today. Today is for hugs and kisses and building towers together. Today is for understanding frustrated feelings, taking deep breaths, and keeping my voice calm.  Today is about holding my daughter's hand, kissing her cheeks, and holding her tight. Maybe it's too simple.

But it's all I can do.

Maybe this won't last very long. Patience and the bitter sting of tragedy don't last forever. But for today, I honor all the lives that have been lost by being exceptionally patient and loving in this moment that I am blessed with right now.

Patience Is A Virtue

I'd like to start off by saying that today I'm writing my 100th blog post! Yay! It's hard to believe that I've been writing on this blog for almost a whole year. I recall beginning last June, unemployed, depressed, and with little outlet for my complex feelings about motherhood and my life. I began blogging and it opened up a new world for me. There are times when things get hectic and I briefly ponder how long I will be able to keep up with it, but then something happens that inspires me and I run to my computer to write. It's also inspired me to write for other sites, like Random Blogette and Curvy Girl. This has not only brought new traffic to my blog but also has led to me finding some awesome writers that I'll be privileged to meet in person in a couple weeks at the Ohio Michigan Blogger Meet Up.

Onward with my topic today, which is patience. We've had a lot of wonderful things happen to us recently that have required quite a bit of waiting and praying. The first has been my husband's new job at a local police department. Jon has gone through years of military experience, schooling, and interviews to be able to begin his career in law enforcement. He has had many times where he has questioned whether it is worth it. He's made it to several second interviews only to be turned down. Jon turned his application into the particular department that has hired him two days after I had Amelia. That means he has waited 1.5 years for an answer from them. Through all that disappointment and hard work he has forged ahead and it has paid off. I am so proud of him.

Our family at Jon's swearing in ceremony

The other event that has required much patience is Amelia's sleeping arrangements. I have mentioned before that Amelia has never really been a 'good sleeper'. She seems to need less sleep than many other toddlers her age and sleeping through the night has taken a good deal of time. Frankly, I'm a little hesitant to discuss this here because I feel like I could be jinxing ourselves!

We have co-slept much of the time over the past year and a half with Jon sleeping on the couch (spare me your 'destroying your marriage' speech... it hasn't) due to Amelia's need for comfort nursing during the first year and snuggles since she has been weaned. Although it has been recommended to me upon several occasions that she needs to cry it out, due to my own personal feelings and beliefs, we have not gone down that road. That has required a lot standing my ground when speaking to others, many intense parenting discussions with Jon, and a lot of prayer and patience on my part. In the end, I've felt that Amelia has required a lot of response at night and that she would sleep on her own when she was ready.

Another piece of the sleep puzzle has been that our bedroom is downstairs while Amelia's room is upstairs. Therefore, when she wakes at night, we have to go through our dining room and living room, up the stairs, down the hall, and then into her room. NOT FUN. To salvage as much sleep as possible, it has simply been better for her to be in our bedroom. Recently, Jon suggested that we bring her crib downstairs and place it by our bed as he saw the signs that she could be ready for it (i.e., sleeping without being held and not waking much during the night). I felt that was a reasonable compromise and so, a week ago today we put her crib in our room.

Amelia has been up and down with how long she will sleep in her crib, but I would say that overall, this is a great arrangement for us and she is getting used to it rather quickly. Over the past week she has slept there for all her naps, and has slept at night anywhere from three to seven hours at night before she wakes up whining or crying. At that point, I scoop her up and we both sleep soundly until 7 a.m.

Last night was a particularly monumental occasion in terms of her sleep. We ate dinner somewhat late and were cleaning up the table and kitchen. Amelia looked at a couple books, then crawled under the dining room table and said "Night, night" while laying down. Jon and I looked at each other with disbelief. Jon shrugged and said "Worth a shot!", scooped her up, laid her down in her crib, sang a little song to her, and said "Goodnight!" while shutting the bedroom door. We could hear her babbling away in her crib, and I said "How long do you think she'll stay in there before she starts crying?" Jon responded "Five minutes." We continued picking up from our meal with our ears alert.

Alas, Amelia fell asleep on her own with no tears. Even more impressive? She lasted the whole night in her crib! I woke up at 5:30 a.m., made coffee and started up my computer and she woke up at 6 a.m. ready to start the day. Jon and I made a big deal out of it and I gave her lots of cuddles while she drank her morning milk.

I have to admit that patience is not always my strength. While I think I handle most of Amelia's bad days fairly well and have survived the past year and a half with very little sleep or broken sleep many nights, I can't say that it's always been a piece of cake. I do have to say though that being patient has definitely paid off. Going through this has taught me yet another life lesson on the value of being patient and sticking with what you believe in regardless of what would be easier or what others say to try to convince you otherwise.

Coffee Break

Despite Amelia's snot, it hasn't been a bad week. As stubborn and determined as she can be, Amelia usually stays in good spirits when she's sick. She also seems to have chilled out in the 'whine until Mommy walks me around the house' department. Generally she can talk Daddy into it when he gets home from work, which is nice for Mommy's back.

Although it has not been so bad, I still hit a wall Thursday. I'm not quite sure what happened, but my overall theory is this: you can only spend so much time with someone, whether they are your own flesh and blood or not. Jon thinks this is amplified by the fact that I still co-sleep with Amelia. I think that's complete crap, as somehow I sleep better at this point with her by my side than when she's upstairs. Either way, by Thursday afternoon, I was texting Jon frantically, begging him to watch Amelia for a bit so I could escape.

Jon replied with a 'What in the hell's your problem, calm down, I'll watch her, you don't have to beg!' response. Which is true-- as Amelia gets older, she does better and better with her daddy and he has no problems watching her. I actually think I have some guilt about asking him to care for her. You are saying "WTF is your problem, Amanda? He's her daddy, there's no reason he can't care for her in the evenings." I think of it this way, though: Jon heads off to work everyday while I'm at home, and he still has several property maintenance things that he has to do on our two acres in the evenings. So, when he comes home and I practically throw the baby at him, I feel like I'm shoving one more thing onto his plate. As a result, I rush back home quickly when it's 'mommy time' and probably don't ask for that time as much as I should.

A second issue is, I always realize that many things that I do during mommy time, I could do when I have the baby in tow, so I often back out of time that I could be spending in solitude. Pondering going to a local coffee shop always makes me wonder, what will I do there that's so different from what I do at home? I can both read and browse the internet while watching Amelia, even if I do feel a tad guilty (you see the running theme here-- mommy guilt) about plopping her in front of the TV so I can partake in some kind of activity that doesn't involve diaper changing or episodes of Sesame Street.


I pushed all those thoughts aside when Jon arrived home that evening, dumped many baby belongings out of my bag, packed up my laptop and books, and left the house, radio blaring. That right there was worth the time out of the house. I've had to change very few of my listening habits since most of the music I like is not vulgar in nature, but I do miss the outrageous volume I indulged in at times while driving my car. Parking my car behind Panera and not having to double check my bag for diapers, wipes, toys, cheerios, and sippy cup, nor having to either carry a car seat which is ever increasing in weight or lugging out the huge stroller was freeing too. Not to mention, it is absolutely delightful to get on facebook without having to bounce a baby on my knee or respond to some kind of insistent fussing.

It would seem that God was trying to show me that more frequent mommy time is a good thing, because starting at that time, a string of unrelated positives started happening. Or, maybe I just noticed the good things because I wasn't frazzled any longer. I found a twenty dollar bill in the bottom of my bag. I got a positive e-mail about a job opening that I REALLY want. We had a terrific afternoon yesterday getting ice cream and going shopping. I got an interview for aforementioned job. We had an awesome time as a family at a high school football last night, and I got to catch up with one of my friends at the game.

Spectacular.

It's with this in mind that I'm starting to pencil in mommy time. MOPS group, coffee at Panera, movie with a friend, whatever. My new goal is to start doing this for myself at least once a week. Pushing aside my time because I want to be a good wife and mother was clearly working against me. Giving myself the time to hit the virtual 'refresh' button is not only a gift to myself, but a gift to my family. I came home that Thursday evening with not just coffee breath, but a smile on my face, hugs to give, and patience to pass around. Definitely a lesson learned while on the path of parenthood.

Naughty Little Monkey

My daughter has been terrorizing me since we returned from vacation. This may be her only way of protesting our reduction of her TV time. At this point, I would be willing to negotiate and let her watch cartoons all day if she'd just stop hanging on me, fussing, whining, screaming, and staying awake so much.

My real suspicion is that she is going through a developmental growth spurt. She would let us help her walk around the house all day if this wouldn't lead to my husband and I being hunched over in pain (and no, she does not like any type of walker. That would be too easy, wouldn't it?). I keep taking deep breaths, praying, and telling myself to be patient. I remind myself that it took us over a year to get pregnant and how badly I wanted a baby. I tell myself it won't last forever. I count down the minutes till her father gets home so I can have a break.

However, my mental tactics are starting to fail me. When Amelia woke this morning after eight short hours of sleep, I ran through a list in my head of people who could maybe take her for a couple hours today, just so I can gather what's left of my sanity. While I'm used to Amelia sleeping less than most babies (she typically only sleeps 9-9.5 hours, 10 hours is super for her), last night she only slept eight hours. This short night of sleep was after she wailed for a half hour last night, refusing to nurse so she'd shut the hell up so she'd calm down. Jon attempted to shout over her wailing so I would know what was going on during the season finale of Master Chef while I circled the dining room table bouncing her and humming. Thirty minutes after laying her down in her crib, she awoke screaming.

Earlier this week when we went to Meijer, more so I could get out of the house and amuse her than any real need for groceries, pretty much every person walking by would point and say "Oh, isn't she CUUTTTEEE????" It was a struggle for me not to ask them if they wanted her.

 So far this morning I've eaten a couple handfuls of pretzel M&M's and she has eaten part of her Mickey Mouse books. Oh, I didn't mention that she seems to have pica? She's like a little goat, munching and gnawing on whatever she gets her hands on. If it's paper, down the hatch it goes. Not even her "baby-safe" books can escape her one little pointy tooth and slobber that would probably eat it's way through steel.

Please don't leave the following comments after reading this post:

• Just wait until she starts walking.
• Just wait until she's a teenager.
• Enjoy her now, time with your baby is short.
• How could you be upset with her, she's just a BAAABY....

These comments will be deleted shortly before I throw my laptop out the window and grab another handful of candy.

Now, excuse me while I suck down another cup of coffee and say my mommy prayer for the day... Dear Lord, please help me be patient and let Amelia take extra long naps. Amen.