On Taking A Mulligan

This entire motherhood of mine (You know, all 7w, 3d of it.  I'm a pro.), I've been resisting a battle.  Not with Riley Girl.  I refuse to look at that as a battle.  But I've been fighting, all the same, and against engaging the wiliest of opponents - The Jinx.

This Jinx (pronounced: jinks) is not like his friendly, we-said-the-same-thing-at-the-same-time-so-"jinx!"-now-you-owe-me-a-pop-and-by-pop-I-mean-soda cousin.  No.  This Jinx hangs around every conversation you have, and sticks his obnoxious self into every good thing you say about your baby.  Everyone feels the need to remind you not to "jinx" yourself.  Examples include:

"She really doesn't spit up that much."

"I've managed to find time to shower pretty much every day."

"She should have about an hour left on that nap, so we're good."

"I think she's sleeping, I don't hear any crying."

For the most part, I've resisted him.  I refuse to refuse to say something good, just because of a superstition that then it will stop happening.  The thinking (and I use the term loosely) goes along the lines of "Yes, she really hasn't been spitting up that much, but if you point it out then she's going to start."  Because she meant to but forgot? Because good things can't last?  Because she realized a missed opportunity to be ornery?  (That last one could be attributed to her Daddio, but not to her, not yet.) 

Anyhow, last week, I mentioned to mi Madre that "We really haven't had a bad night yet."  As in, she's never woken up to eat at night and wanted to stay up and play.  And she really hadn't.  She never had her nights mixed up (for which I am eternally grateful, and which I attribute to my constant prayer while she was in utero, "Please, God, just let her sleep.").  I said it, and then Mamma & I laughed because, despite my insistence to not give into Mr. Jinx, we both sort of felt the need to say "don't jinx it!" after that comment.  Ha ha.  Isn't that so funny.  Gotta fight the Jinx, you know.

Ha ha. Ha.

Guess who wasn't laughing that night?

Couldn't you just die?
Maybe its just me, but she SLAYS me.

A Tired Desperation :: Sleep Training RG

**Dear Sleep-deprived Mama who found this while googling at 2AM.  Scroll down to the underlined part.  That's the crux of the matter, as far as you're concerned.  I love you.  Good luck.**

Let me tell you about my friend. Her name is 2AM-Google (yes, hyphenated). She had taught me so much these past 6 weeks. Things about breastfeeding and cloth diapers, napping habits (or lack of habits) of newborns, when to introduce a pacifier (once bf-ing is established, as early as 3 weeks if all is going well) and how to get my pre-pregnancy belly back (hint- not happening any time soon).  She's kept me informed regarding foods I may want to avoid (pineapple and chocolate) and foods I should eat the heck out of (oatmeal, ginger, and spinach).

I'm sure my search history would be humorous.
I'm also sure glad no one will ever see it, save for those people at google analytics.
You're welcome, google geeks.

Sometimes, though, 2AM-G (as her friends call her) didn't have all the answers. Sometimes, the answer was "that depends on your baby".  That made things difficult as RG & I had only known each other a short time.  I hated that answer, although it did remind me to pay more attention to my primary source (RG) than any secondary sources (everything else).

Things came to a head when I began trying to figure out when to start teaching RG her first big skill, soothing herself to sleep. One source recommends starting at one week old while another suggests to wait until month 4. What?! So now, not only was 2AM-G telling me that it depended on my baby, she was also giving me conflicting advice.  That was a problem.

31 Days: Home in Bed

Here's the simple truth: I've been cheated, and my body knows it.  Mainly, I've been cheated by the United States government.  For the majority of my life, I lived according to a certain standard, and then in 2005, whoosh!  In comes Congress, sweeping away my previous life and replacing it with a new one.  Even today, six years later, my body mourns the loss of that day.

The day Daylight Savings Time was changed.

Let us observe a moment of silence.

I know that daylight savings time will turn next week.  But for most of my life, (according to wiki) it was always switching over on 2 AM of the last Sunday of October.  Now we've got a whole other 6 days to wait, and my body knows.  It knows!  It knows that right now, I should still be home in bed, enjoying that extra hour of sleep.  Boo.  According to the sweet web page with clouds that google sent me to, Congress reserves the right to change back to the old ways, should this new change-date prove unpopular.  Well, Congress, hear you me - THIS IS UNPOPULAR.

In truth, I only feel slightly strongly about this.  But I wanted to share.  And I wanted some hot coffolatte to substitute for sleep, but I didn't get that.  But as the Rolling Stones have taught us...

Getting what I need (next  Sunday at 2 AM),

TFW

p.s.- To see the other 31 Days: Home posts, check out the bottom of this post