This month has been all about trying to establish routines. Both for the kids and for ourselves. Daddy has been home "manning the ship" with all 3 on his own while Momma has gone back to work. We're desperately trying to get everyone aligned on some sort of schedule and have that schedule be reproducible for maybe 3 days in a row. It's rarely a success. Moodle is getting her bottom 2 teeth already, which is crazy because the boys didn't teethe until 6-7 months, and she's only 4.5mo. But, I can see them.. I can feel them.. and most importantly she's been absolutely beastly because of it. Teething is awful. I almost wish they'd just come out of the womb with all their teeth.. I could handle some more kicks and jabs throughout pregnancy in exchange to avoid the awful months of seeing your kid miserable and in pain afterwards. But, the more I think about that, the more I get flashbacks to Twilight's Breaking Dawn with the vampire baby that was born with fangs... meh, I'll pass.
Newborns are tough.. they don't sleep, they cry a lot, they can't communicate well. But, I'm slowly learning that toddlers can be tougher.. they can sleep, but choose not to.. they know how to manipulate and cry in an attempt to get what they want.. and, they can communicate.. and that communication is often in the form of arguing with us, the parents, in some form or another. I keep reminding myself how important a quality it is to teach our children to become strong, independent individuals.. and, by doing so, that also means embracing their need to express their independence now. Sigh.
Our days are slowly becoming more predictable, though still far from the routine I have envisioned in my mind. Mostly because everything we try and do takes a bazillion times longer than anyone would ever expect. Let me elaborate with some examples.
Bath Time. A process in which we treat like a small assembly line. First, one of us accepts the task of scooping up the baby and attempting to herd the boys into the bathroom. It usually takes several attempts and multiple times of me or Daddy having to raise our voices because someone took off running in the other direction again.. as you hear the pitter patter of little feet running through the hardwood hallways. Once all 3 are in the bathroom, we lock them in. Everyone gets bathed individually. Mostly because Aidan still poops in the tub if we're not super fast and careful (ie can't fill the tub, he essentially sits and I spray the shower on him as I wash him). Ironically enough, each one of my kids loves the tubby, which is great, because if I'd let them they'd stay in there for hours.. but, they can't because there are 2 others that need to be bathed after them.. which results in a mass meltdown because no one wants to leave the tub. Funny how it took all my might to wrangle them all into the bathroom, but now it's absolute devastation to get them out of the tub. I can't imagine how much more thrilling tubby time will be in 9 months from now when Amelia is darting away, too! Maybe we should look into getting a border collie.. or some other herding type breed.. I'm gonna need some help!
Bedtime is my next favorite routine that takes a gazillion times longer than it should. Amelia, knock on wood, has been going down (most nights) relatively well.. which is great, because it gives both Jason and I the ability to both put the boys down together. Why? Well, simply because the boys would have it no other way. Once upon a time, bedtime consisted of brushing teeth, reading a story, tucking in and kissing goodnight. A process that took about 10 minutes. Lately.. this process takes 40 minutes. Every. Night.
Brushing teeth is a battle. Especially if you're doing it on your own. Someone is trying to climb into the shower, or attempting to unravel the toilet paper roll, or flush the potty 49 times or get into the cabinets and drawers under the sink all while I'm trying to coax the other child to open their mouth long enough for me to actually brush their teeth and not just allow them to suck off all the toothpaste and swallow it in one gulp. I try singing "If all the raindrops were sugar plums and gum drops, oh what a rain that would be" because then on the chorus part (eh eh eh eh eh eh eh) they open their mouths so I can get in there. Cracks me up listening to Daddy trying to sing it.. needless to say he changes the words quite a bit.
After teeth brushing (and each dumping water all over themselves, because, ya know getting a drink from the bathroom cup is the COOLEST thing ever), we head in for bedtime. 1 story days are LONG gone in this house. We currently read 4 stories. And, they are not just stories. The first one that is on our every night reading list is "Head to Toe" by Eric Carle. And, it's like an acting book. "The penguin can turn his head. Can you turn your head?"... and we all must turn our heads. Then we must bend our necks like a giraffe, and puff our shoulders like a buffalo.. and thump our chests like a gorilla.. donkey kick the air.. stomp like an elephant.. also, did I mention that Amelia's room is RIGHT underneath us?? Yep.. but we must do this every evening. Then comes reading Mom is great.. which after every page he corrects me and lets me know Mom ISN'T whatever the page said.. (for example, isn't Mom so brave.. he retorts, no, Mom isn't brave.. he's a sweetheart!). And then comes Beach with Dad.. usually by this point no one is paying much attention now, they're both jumping on Owen's bed, wrestling each other, and I'm able to skip half the pages.
Then comes the actual bedtime procedure. I first take Aidan in. We must locate his phone, his bear guy, his elmo, his Elmo and Grover books, both blankies, his chew toy keys, and the little taggie blankie that he covers bear guy with. I snuggle him for a minute and try kissing him goodnight as I tell him that I love him and hope he has sweet dreams while he's trying to backwards head dive out of my arms into the crib. We hand him each one of his babies and tuck them all in next to him, tuck him in, and out I go. Easy. Not really, because spoiler alert.. I'll be back in.
Then I go to Owen. Owen's bed has Buzz, Jessie, Woody, Woody 2 and his plastic hat, bear guy, baby doll, "scary monster" (some scooby doo action figure ghost thing), his clock (which is a compass), his phone, Olaf which takes up half his bed and that awesome head to toe book we were talking about before. Now, we also have to make sure the baby doll has her pants on because OMG he takes them off of her every single night and then freaks out if we didn't put them back on her. After we spend a good 5 minutes saying goodnight to all his companions and putting them in their proper spots in bed, we then have to sing him a song.. and then we have to soothe the baby doll, because normally she's crying.. which requires rocking her and patting her on her back.. then we say no tears, no crying.. mobile on.. because, he tells me it's "perfect" when the music from the mobile is on.. and we attempt to leave. It's usually at this point where if we haven't both done bedtime, Owen will start asking for the other.. and by asking, I mean break out into a hyperventilating sob until we're both present to say goodnight. Sometimes he'll then decide he wants to have more to drink.. or wants to suddenly go try and do peepee.. or will think of some other random toy that he absolutely needs in his crib to sleep with, all in an attempt to further stall this 45 minutes process. About 5 rounds of hugs and kisses and "no tears no crying" and sweet dreams and we usually can get out of the room.
But then there's Aidan. Who's now standing up, yelling "MOMMMM!".. because, who knows what he's done.. thrown all of his toys on the floor.. is attempting to climb out to get said toys he threw on the floor.. wedged his chubby little leg in between the crib rails? Maybe a combination of all these things? He's also learned that if he starts yelling "Ow! Booboo!" I come running in no questions asked. So, sometimes he'll stand there and point at something (often his ears or cheek or eye) and tell me he has a booboo (I'm watching him on the monitor. So, at some point one of us gives in and goes and picks up all his toys, lays him back down and tucks him and all his guys in again.
It's. Exhausting. Usually by now it's almost 9pm, and we then go on to clean up each room that they've disasterized through the day, washing juice cups and bottles before collapsing in bed in front of the TV. I used to HATE the idea of having a TV in our room.. and, I only caved when I was pregnant with Amelia.. but, omg, does it get use! We almost never watch TV in the family room. I honestly couldn't even tell you the last time. Because, by the end of the day.. we are too tired to unwind on the couch downstairs knowing we'll have to walk the entire flight of stairs up to our room before bed.
My catch22? I drink a soda around lunch time.. that boost of caffeine gets me through the rest of my day and gives me enough energy to make it through bath and bed time... however.. then comes 12:45AM and I'm still wide awake. Which means tomorrow I'll only survive the day if I drink another soda. Vicious cycle on repeat!
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