No rest for the weary…

So I took the advice of many loved ones yesterday when I went to sleep early, a little before 10. Otter has been getting up so much at night, and so early in the morning, that it seemed sensible to try and sleep when he does. I also had a migraine, which added to the desire to sleep a long and restful night.

It was not to be.

He woke up at four.
FOUR!!!

Happy as a clam, ready to nurse for hours, wanting to get up, up UP MAMA!!!

Four in the morning!!

Why does he hate me so?

What did I ever do to him, that he would taunt me with increasingly ghastly rising hours??

How on earth do I get him to sleep longer? We are co-sleeping, and he will just sit up and start smacking us around until we get up too.

Should I set the crib up again and shove him in it at four in the morning with a stuffy and a toy or two? Should he and I just get up before the sun and wander downstairs to stare at each other in the cold dark of night?

I have no ideas here, probably because I have no sleep. Poor Lee got up with him about 5:30, after I tried for an hour to nurse and soothe him back to bed. He sent me to sleep in the other room for an hour before heading off to work.

I wish I could drink more coffee, without making my situation even worse.

Of course, now he has fallen asleep in his jumper. Stinker.

Touchy Topic Tuesday…Two?

Awake √
Dressed √ (in jammies, but not naked!!)
Children dressed √
Children fed √
Cats fed √
Dog fed √
Eldest off to school √
Bottle of Prune juice for breast-fed but somehow plugged up baby √
Yesterday’s coffee mug removed from desk √
Today’s coffee mug, full of steaming coffee, placed lovingly on desk √
Piles of work to do √
Blogging anyway √

Welcome back to Touchy Topic Tuesday, that day when I vent my spleen, or, lacking a spleen of my own, troll the blogosphere for the vented spleens of others.

Life with Quilts
features a statement in defense of home birth, including links to some interesting facts and statistics about birthing at home.
Birth is such a personal and touchy subject. I personally believe history speaks volumes, and women’s needs and bodies have long been ignored by the medical establishment. However, many of the doctors I worked with on my last pregnancy and delivery were willing to explore alternative birth options, and pain management options. So hopefully we are seeing a bit more common sense used in our OB’s, when it comes to allowing for a positive birth experience.

Mom 101 brought up the issue of germs and infants this week in her post I’ll take that Hazmat Suit in a 2T please.
The problem with germ paranoia is that over protecting your infant can pose a risk to their health. A baby’s immune system grows and develops by responding to the bacteria and germs the baby encounters. Keeping your home too clean and your baby too protected can actually harm them. Helium has a good short article on the subject.
As for the public bathrooms, obviously it depends on the room itself, but I certainly know I don’t clean and disinfect my bathroom every four hours, so the public restroom at Target is likely to have less bacteria than my bathroom at home. (Although it is other people’s bacteria, which is gross.) Remember! The dirtiest place in any public bathroom is the door!

As for my own kvetch of the week? I am still on the Hillary thing.
I have been making phone calls on her behalf all week, and doing so has made me feel better. I have spoken with women across the nation who feel as I do, that it is our time, that it is time to have a woman represent us, that they have always been able to vote for a man, and now it is time to fight for our woman. Speaking with them has given me hope. I am not a member of a small majority of women who believe choosing an intelligent, savvy and experienced candidate who is a woman is a good thing, I am part of a large group of women. Women who have waited their turn, women who want it now.
So I am calling for Hillary, and if you believe as I do, I am calling on you. Go to HillaryClinton.com and register to make phone calls.
Make a difference, let’s raise our fists and break that glass ceiling, there simply is no reason to wait any longer.

No sleep and too little coffee…

make mommy go… something…something.

Otter has started to get up at 6 a.m.

I abhor six a.m.

Six a.m. is the time I have to get up for court, it was the time I had to get up to work my crappy entry level job an hour’s drive away, it was the time I had to get to get to my insane morning torts class.

Six a.m. is an insufferable time to start my daily routine, it is an abberant time, a warped time of the morning, in between dark and light. A time out of time.

Especially when he really gets up about 5 a.m., but nurses with me in a quasi-doze for an hour before I finally resign myself to my fate and haul my enervated carcass out of bed.

Kick
“Come on Otter… go back to bed.”
Kick,kick
“Ma ma mamamamamamamamamama ma… Da da dadadadada… Ma Da MamaDa”
Smack, punch, kick.
Foot in the face.
“Oh all right, I’ll get up.”

I detest everyone and everything at that time of the day, the cat snuggled next to me is stifling, my husband’s blissful snoring is irksome, the baby’s determination is maddening, the stairs are too long, the floor is too hard, the couch is intolerable.

The first glimpse of the sun is met with the sentiment “Curse you life giving star!”

Then the coffee beans get ground…
and the first wafts of the delectable brew permeate the fog around my consciousness.
With the first sip, the cranky lines around my eyes fade.
With the second sip, I feel as though I might let people live.
With the third, I am human again.

I thank the java gods for their bounty. It appears to be the key to my parenting skills.