Archive for the ‘“Golden Slumbers”’ Category

Ezra didn’t quite know what to make of the mittens I put over his chubby little fingers before we headed out for a short walk around the neighborhood this afternoon. After unsuccessfully trying to peel them off his hands, which went something like this: “The hell? Get this thing off of my grabbing thingy!” Goes to grab and pull the mitten off. “WHAT? There’s one on this grabbing thingy too! HOW IS A MAN SUPPOSED TO GRAB STUFF?! Huh… I can still knock shit over pretty effectively. Alright, we’re cool.”

So he gave up trying to peel them off and, confused with what to do with his hands, just sort of held them limply out in front of himself for the remainder of the walk:


I might have felt bad but this is the same child who, after I lovingly changed, read and snuggled him gently in his crib for his nap after a rough night of sleep, proceeded to meow for 45 minutes. That’s right. MEOW. As in:

Ezra: Mroooooooowwwwww… Mrrrrrroooooooooow… Meeeeeeeeooooooooowwww… MEEEOOOOOOWWWWWPPPPP

Me, sneaking into the room, laying him back down and covering him up: It’s nappy time, mister. Shhhhhh…

Ezra: Mrooowww! Meeeeooowwww!

Me: Go to sleep, Ezra.

Ezra: Meeowwwwp?

And on, and on and on. So yeah, the mittens brought about a small sense of justice because I’m a horrible human being. But we already knew that.



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Listen, I know we already all knew this but my idiot-game has upped itself to new heights. Last night I did something so colossally stupid, something I one hundred and fifty (thousand!} percent knew would destroy me but I did it anyway. I watched The Conjuring. Internet, do NOT watch this movie, it is goddamn terrifying. {Especially if you’re me.  If you’re not me and are a grown-up who learned somewhere along the way to separate fact from fiction then you’re probably fine.}

Over the years, Bill and I have talked a lot about what our own personal brand of ohshitImterrified fear is when it comes to the horror genre and I have to say we are on complete opposite sides of the spectrum. Bill’s number one supernatural fear is zombies and he gets pretty freaked out by a monster flick. {But seriously the man can sleep under any and all circumstances so while it might freak him out as he watches, he forgets about it completely somewhere around 10 minutes after it’s over.} And listen, I get it. When the makeup and special effects are done right, I can see that a zombie might be moderately scary, but jesus they just move soooo sloooow and a majority of the time they’re missing the correct limbs to, you know, catch you or grab you with and I actually find it fairly comical instead of disturbing when they are so horribly disfigured they’re barely recognizable as something that might have once been human. With The Walking Dead {which I like to refer to as The Walking Sexists but I’ll admit is killing it this season} and the subsequent influx of zombie flicks over the last 10 years, I don’t know, I feel sort of immune and don’t get super scared by them.

The only movie from the monster genre that has stayed with me and truly scared me to the core was the TV mini-series of Stephen King’s Silver Bullet. This probably has less to do with how frightening it actually is {I really don’t know how it holds up, I will never watch that sucker again} and more to do with the fact that I watched it when I was 7 years old. I was across the street at the 12 year old neighbor girl’s house. I think she was probably charged with “watching me” in a Mother’s Helper sort of way that afternoon and she took her job very seriously by making me Spaghettio’s and setting me up in her family room with a movie! Sounds nice, huh? Until she picked out Silver Bullet. I don’t know how strongly I can emphasize that this is NOT an appropriate movie for an 7 year old, especially one that has had a recurring nightmare from 4 years old on about a werewolf that terrorizes her neighborhood. I was completely warped from watching it, and more than 25 years later I can still picture the fog overlaying the ground and the people of the town being dragged under it and {presumably} ripped limb from limb off camera and ohmygod let’s not talk about this anymore.

Overall though, my fear is definitely more strongly rooted in the haunted house, possession type story lines so The Conjuring was probably the absolute dumbest movie I ever could have watched because not only is it based on a true story, it contains a haunted house and a demonic witch who possesses mothers who are then forced to do horrible things to their children. My fascination/fear of these movies started at 14 when I watched Amityville: The Possession. I’m sure I watched the original Amityville movie at some point but it didn’t terrify me as much as the sequel did and for years after I would wake up paralyzed with the fear that one of my possessed family members would enter my room with a shotgun and take us all out. Lovely thought, I know. To be clear none of my un-possessed family members would most likely ever do this but 3:15am doesn’t always lend itself to rational thinking.

My imagination obviously tends to be on the more active side but as I’ve grown into a real-live adult, my fearful reaction to most scary movies has definitely dulled. After all, a sugared-up toddler who won’t nap or a colicky baby that wakes up 10 times a night are WAY WAY WAY more frightening than any ghost or demon could ever be. I’ve also gotten pretty good at being able to turn off my imagination and/or thoughts before they spiral out of control and go from “wow, that was a pretty messed up FICTIONAL movie” to waking up in the middle of the night paralyzed with terror, absolutely SURE there is a possessed witch hovering six inches above my face as I’m completely paralyzed in my bed in the black room. Until last night that is!

The whole movie I was a mess. Bill kept saying “how bout we turn it off, dummy” when for the 6th time I balled myself in the corner of the couch with my hands literally covering my eyes like a 3 year old. “No! Then I won’t know how they got rid of her! It will be worse!” After I made him pause it 2-3 times so I could remind myself to blink and breath, he had lost pretty much all patience with me but we made it to the end. And *spoiler alert* at least it didn’t pull one of those dick moves that the horror genre is so fond of that let you believe they resolved whatever horrible occurence had happened and then the final scene is all HA! Just kidding! EVERYONE’S STILL SCREWED. It was a relatively happy ending, if you don’t account for all the hundreds of thousands of dollars in therapy those characters will have to pay to get over that awfulness.

I really should just not be allowed to watch this crap. And for years I stayed away from it because I knew I couldn’t handle it. I think it was after The Ring came out and I didn’t sleep barely at all for a week straight that I quit horror all together for a few years but after a while I dipped back in and then October rolls around and I get caught up in Jezebel’s annual true scary story post which inevitably leads me to scroll through Rotten Tomatoes to see what the year had to offer in scary movies. I think this one cured me of any need to watch something this horrifying… at least until next year.

These are my more recent I Am Never Watching This Shit Again movies: Silent Hill, Evil Dead {remake, I’ve never seen the original} and Sinister. But honestly, The Conjuring takes the flippin’ cake. A big part of this might be because I’m a little OCD about time, so much so, that I can’t wear a watch because I check it obsessively so movies where something bad happens at a specific time each night, really mess with me on a whole different level. I spent all night so tense, barely sleeping and afraid to look at my clock. When I did nod off Bill said I kept jerking and gasping in my sleep. I am a total mess today and am already scared to go to bed tonight and it’s only 1pm. So yeah. Dumb. So, so dumb.

{When I’m ready to jump back in to scary movies, because let’s face it, I just don’t learn, I’ll watch my go-to pallet cleanser, Cabin in the Woods, which is pretty much the best horror/anti-horror/comedy movie ever made, God Bless you, Joss Whedon.}

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The last month of Ezra was super fun but also had many, many challenges. Ezra made huge strides mobility and communication-wise and is really starting to carve out a niche in our little family of five. Since it’s the last weekend before school starts I’m just gonna break this month out in list form~ here’s the quick and dirty…

* Naps were rough this month. The nine month sleep regression thankfully left his night-time sleep mostly intact but there were two weeks in the middle of the month where Ezra out-right refused his afternoon nap and hooooobaby you are NOT ready to go down to one nap yet. The song and dance routine to get him down was a nightmare and then after finally getting him to sleep he’d wake up screaming the minute I’d lay him down. I knowknowknow we needed to start a sleep-training method but with the crazy, always changing schedules of the older two there was no way to make it work and keep my sanity. Thankfully the regression phased out and he went back to happily taking two naps but I know once we get a normal schedule and routine in September we have to start the process of letting him fall asleep on his own.


* So. Many. Teeth. You are up to eight now, the four front on top and the four front on bottom and please, baby, let’s take a break from that shit, shall we? I’m so super tired of the two days of crankiness/clingyness/misery before the tooth cuts and I know the molars and eye teeth are going to be so much worse. {UGH why do babies even HAVE teeth.} Also I am over the biting. You thankfully are wise enough never to bite mom during nursing sessions but you started a bad habit of snuggling into our shoulders for a hug and then taking a chunk out if them. OUCH.


* This month you learned to give the most disgusting, wet, drool-infused kisses and while, yes, they are absolutely gross, they are also the sweetest things ever.

* This leads me to the words you understand which among them includes:

~ Kiss. Mmmm slobbery baby love.

~ Ezra. DUH.

~ No. In which you stop whatever offense you are currently committing, look at me with an inquisitive stare before busting out an angelic grin after which you go ahead and proceed with whatever naughty mischief you are up to, undeterred.

~ Uh-Ah. Similar to “no” except add that you mimic {some might say MOCK} the sound in perfect inflection as you continue on your merry way of dismantling the cupboards/unraveling toilet paper/ attempt to climb the bookshelf/etc with a happy string of “Uh-Ah, Uh-Ah, Uh-Ah!!!”.

~ Dada. As in “Ezra! Where’s daddy?” Spins around, looking wildly before finding dad, once his eyes are fixed on Bill he gives a big grin before shouting “Dada!” {DIS-similarly: “Ezra! Where’s mama?” Stares blankly at the fan/ceiling/wall.}

~Drop. We are really counting this as his first word since he understands it and repeats it in the right context even though it’s not super clear. Whenever we play ball with Luna we don’t even have to say drop anymore because Ezra does it for us, with great enthusiasm.

~ Stop. He repeats this one a lot too, but it sounds very similar to “drop”.

~ Kitty, puppy/dog, Luna.

~ Come here.

~ Milk.


* Getting used to a baby that is super mobile has had its challenges. Since the other two were older and understood more by the time they could fly around on all fours {not to mention they were MUCH less adventurous than Ezra}, my baby proofing was pretty lax. It really consisted of a few cabinet locks, moving all dangerous materials up high, some outlet covers and gating the stairs for a couple of months before they could figure out how to navigate down them backwards. With Ezra I’m thinking of just duct-taping my entire house in place because he is into EVERYTHAAAAANNNNNNG. He’s broken out of baby jail a handful of times and made it halfway up the stairs before we realized. He also learned how to open the screen door so when we did the inevitable “oh shit, where’s the baby” roll-call one morning we found him out on the deck greeting the neighborhood with his happy shrieks. I am not a super religious person but LORD IN HEAVEN, HELP ME.


* Learned to play So Big this month which has resulted in all kids of adorableness. Especially because he is compelled to do it so he can be in the middle of something and if I call out “How big is Ezra?” he has no choice but to stop what he is doing and throw his hands above his head. This has come in handy when he’s almost made it to the dog dishes.


* Is eating a ton. In addition to four nursing sessions/day, three big servings of smooshy stuff, and puffs/melts/baby biscuits, we’ve made the big foray into table foods this month and he will eat everything, all of it, anytime and then screech for more.


And I think that’s a wrap on Month 10! Ezra was born right before Halloween but as far as nick-names go, he has proved to be much more of a Turkey than a Pumpkin. Turkey because he is mischievous, independent, screechy and absolutely, unequivically the most delicious thing ever created. We love you Big Turkey Baby.



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This monthly blah-blah is brought to you by Sleep Deprivation and WAAAAHHHH Pick Me Up/No Put Me Down so it will most likely lack any sort of cohesiveness and be short and sweet. Or not. {It is ME, after all.}


The first two and a half weeks of this month were spectacular for our mini-budders. Five months is one of my very favorite ages as it’s the perfect combination of smooshy adorableness and active {but not too active} baby exploits. And since my baby is already the cutest baby, like, EVER {truth} it was an especially fun time. I actually had to force myself to put him down or let him play independently so I could do things like sleep, feed my other children, etc. Then he started to get a little cranky two weeks ago aaaaaaaand BAM. Icky cold. Sleep and contentedness went out the window and were replaced by waking up 5-7 times a night and general whininess at being alive. I took him in for his 6 month check-up on Friday, thinking the doctor would check his ears, see an infection and we’d get something to help ease his discomfort but his ears were clear~ it’s just a gunky cold, so instead he was the proud recipient of three vaccinations which has NOT helped his mood any letmejusttellyou. His cold/cough seem much better this week, but after an absolutely AWFUL night last night I think some form of sleep training is in our near future.

So to hit all the major baby data points…

Sleep: SUUUUUUUCCCKKKS. {I think I covered this one already but just in case you weren’t super clear…} Naps are still going okay with 1.5-2 hours in the morning and 1-1.5 hours in the afternoon but it’s getting increasingly hard to get him down. Before I was swaddling him and gently rocking him for 5 or so minutes and sometimes he would be asleep and sometimes he wouldn’t but he’d snuggle in and nap either way. Now it’s taking 10-15 minutes of vigorous rocking and if he’s not all the way asleep when I lay him down he pops his eyes open and that’s it, there is almost no chance of him falling asleep on his own. He is too tall and strong for our swaddling blankets so we have had to phase them out in the last couple of weeks which also hasn’t helped sleeping matters because OMFG LOOK I HAVE HANDS!!!!! We are hoping some form of sleep training will help but until the last dance competition is over this weekend I just don’t have it in me to jump into that.


Eating: With both Rowan and Keaton the doctor encouraged us to start solids at 4 months. This time I listened to the hippies and didn’t start until 5.5 months and let me tell you, these hippies are onto something. Do you know how much easier it is to feed a nearly six month old than a 4 month old? A huge difference. WORLDS. The frustration of wasting food and the breast milk you mix it with as your child lets it just fall out of their mouth instead of swallowing was completely skipped this time. Ezra could sit up in his new highchair and within a feeding or two figured out how to take spoonfuls and swallow with much less of a mess. So far avocados are the only thing he’s completely rejected {Bill would be 90% sure Ezra could not possibly be his son due to this if not for the fact that everyone we meet says WHOA HOLYSHIT do YOU look like dad}. His favorites are bananas and apples. I gave him carrots for the first time yesterday which he liked but then woke up with a rash on his cheeks this morning so I don’t know if that’s related or not… we’ll see as Smooshy Stuff Taste Test Month continues.


Moving: This boy is a rolling machine. Historically my babies have been on the late side of normal for gross motor so I thought I had another 2 months before I had to worry about baby proofing but Ezra has proved much more active. We’ve already taken down his floor gym as he just rolls off of it or gets tangled. If I lay him on a blanket then get distracted by another of my lovely offspring for a minute, when I look back he’s under the coffee table or made his way to the patio door for a better view. He’s able to sit up assisted and has started to hold himself up on his hands for a few seconds before face-planting. He loves standing in his exersaucer and watching his big brother and sister.



Weight: 17lb 3oz, 44%

height: 27 inches, 65%

head: 17inches, 46%

Ezra had another big growth-spurt in height considering at 2 months he was only in the 10% and is now in the 65th percentile. This has been the fattest month for all my babies, having spent the last 6 months building up their fat stores while being completely immobile. Ezra is the chubbiest of the three, though only a few ounces bigger than Keaton was at 6 months {and to be fair he’s also a full inch taller}. Rowan never broke the 10th percent for anything but was still at her own personal chubbiest at this age. It’ll be fun to see if Ezra planes out like his brother and sister did, both of whom were only around 20 pounds at one year and stayed that way for what seemed like EVER. In the meantime, this has resulted in much nomming of Big Fat Baby tummy and thighs and cheeks and oh just about any part of him I can get a hold of. It’s the best.


Loves: His favorite toys are his LaMaze Dragonfly, Pirate Piggens, Taggie Elephant and any loud rattle you shake at him.  He likes the bjorn but only if Bill is wearing him. He’ll tolerate the Ergo but only for short periods, which I hope will change because it’s my carrier of choice~ I am really hoping he’ll warm up to it so we can hit the trails this summer.

Honestly? I know he loves me {or my hooters, whatever} but this boy is all about daddy and his big brother and sister and ferchristssake even Fawkes and Luna. His big eyes follow his dad and siblings as they go about their evening business and he loves Saturday mornings when he gets to spend extra time with dad {Mama’s sleeping in. Don’t judge.}. During feedings the dog and the cat settle in, with Fawkes on the bed near the rocking chair and Luna at my feet. Every so often Ezra will break away from me, flail about in my arms until he has a good view of an animal and give them a sweet, toothless grin, which is sometimes rewarded with a wet puppy kiss.

Ezra, you watch everything, you take it all in. I can see you inching further and further away, even while you are seated right there on my lap, pulling yourself toward the activity and watching, delighted, with a curious gaze. You are so ready to jump in and be a part of all of us, all of this, all of the action, and all I can do is gently gather you in to me, placing my cheek on your blonde fluff and say, soon, Sir. You’ll be a part of it all before we know it but for now you’re stuck snuggled in my arms. Right where I want you.


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The bestest, most smartest, handsomest, funniest, all-around-great-guy Baby named Ezra.

It's true. I'm pretty amazing.

It’s true. I’m pretty amazing. Also: MY EYELASHES. They will take over the world one day.

What did my genius of a baby do to deserve the highest honor of Best Baby, Like, Ever? He slept through the night two nights in a row, people. And not some lame ass sleep like midnight to 5:30 because you assholes out there claiming that is sleeping through the night are NOT FOOLING ANYONE with that shit HoooooooNoooooo. My advanced super-smart-genius-baby slept from 8:30 PM-at-night-o’clock to 7 AM-in-the-morning-o’clock.



We’ve been rocking a pretty good night routine all month. At the end of December Ezra was going down around 9pm, and eating at around midnight and 4am, with a wake-up time around 7:30ish. Then by the end of the first week in January he started sleeping through the midnight feeding so we just went with it and he was getting up anywhere between 3:30 and 4:30 to eat, once in a while he’d make it to 5 but that just messed up our morning routine because the 8 o’clock hour is go-time for the other two so I really had to try to get him up at four or wait until seven otherwise the mornings would be a nightmare. We figured we were in for at least another 2-3 months of night feedings and we still might be, but considering I haven’t slept soundly through the night since before I got pregnant? Two nights of uninterrupted sleep is HUGE and I will take it, thankyouverymuch.

That IS amazeballs. I AM AMAZEBALLS!

That IS amazeballs. I AM AMAZEBALLS!

Even if it is short-lived, he timed this perfect as I was smote with an icky cold that knocked me down for a few days, so good baby is good. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to start researching Ivy league schools for my clearly advanced infant, or, I don’t know, college is sort of expensive and not really necessary when you’re already the smartest so maybe I’ll just go ahead and have him apply for that Rocket Science internship I’ve had my eye on.

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Seriously. Not one thing of substance. Bill and I talked about how we were operating with such choppy, low amounts of sleep and we agreed that we were okay as long as we didn’t acknowledge how much sleep we’ve lost the last 5 weeks~ equating it with the whole Don’t Look Down mentality. Bill confessed he had started to look down over a week ago and Internet? I’m looking down right now and it is not a pretty sight.

So here, have some Adorable Baby while I stare off at the wall trying to remember how to spell my own name…

Good thing these cheeks make it all worth it, huh?

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So you know when, against all good parenting sense, we were really smart and let the kids watch Lord of the Rings? And I was so worried about the disfigured Orcs and bloody battles giving them horrific nightmares?

Well, Rowan had a terrible nightmare last night. I heard her sobs over the monitor around midnight and with a sinking feeling that this was all coming back to bite me in the ass, I ran up to her. Normally once she sees that I’ve come in the room she calms right down, but not this time. She climbed down the ladder and flung herself into my lap, still shaking with sobs of the remnants of whatever invaded her mind.

I always ask what her bad dream was about so we can talk it over and I can try to make her feel better before tucking her back in but I was a little hesitant as I was sure she was going to recount Gandalf being engulfed by a fiery flaming monster or Gollum biting off Frodo’s finger and that was going to make me look really, really bad, Internet.

But I made this Orc-filled bed so I sucked in a breath and said, “What was your bad dream about?”

And with a still trembling voice she replied, “A mean strawberry.”

“Oh, sweetie, mama’s so sorry she let you watch that mov-…Whaaa…What?”

” A mean, giant strawberry that was trying to smoosh me.”

“A …strawberry?”

“That was trying to smoosh me. It was really big.”

“Smoosh you into jelly?”

A smile crept across her face, “Yep. Rowan Jelly.”

“That is a bad dream. You’re pretty sweet but I wouldn’t want to eat you on toast.”

After she was done giggling, we sang Castle on a Cloud as we rocked in the glow of the nightlight and then I said it was time to snug back into bed.

Before climbing back up she said, “I don’t think I’m going to color in my Strawberry Shortcake coloring book for a little while. I colored so many pictures yesterday that it gave me bad dreams.”

Freaking Strawberry Shortcake, you guys. And not even a show with the sinister Purple Pie Man…a COLORING BOOK. Filled with smiling, glee-filled fruit people. I have to be perfectly honest. I… just…I just don’t get this parenting thing sometimes.

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