The end is near

I can feel it coming on. I sense its presence just around the corner. The very thing that has kept me sane for almost the past 4 years will come to an end soon. Life will never be the same once it does.

What am I talking about? Nap time. That glorious hour (or two) that allows me to do the things around the house that I want to do, not dictated by anyone under 4 feet tall. The down time I require to maintain my social skills by talking to friends on the phone or neighbors. That daily appointment with my DVR to crank through all the shows I need to watch. The productive window during which I can crank out assigned writing. All of it is slipping through my hands day by day.

Jellybean has been skipping a nap here or there for a few months now. Some weeks she sleeps 6 out of 7 days, and some weeks she sleeps 2 out of 7 days. Every day, I still make her have an hour of "quiet" time no matter what. I say "quiet," because some days it is anything but -- bordering on boisterous, and I end up going in to shush her a couple times during the hour. There is no rhyme or reason as to when she sleeps or doesn't sleep. Some days I'll leave her room and think, "No WAY she sleeps today," and 3 minutes later: silence. For an hour and a half. Other days, I've run her ragged in the morning, and she's falling apart at the seams, and yet an hour into quiet time, she's chipper and ready to roll.

Peanut is still a consistent napper for the time being -- I hope she remains oblivious to Jellybean's activities, or that could be blown too. I have played defense a few times for Peanut, attempting to snuff out Jellybean's noise before it wakes Peanut. Mostly successful so far.

I know in a few years, I'll look back and feel like the era we had napping kids lasted about 10 minutes. My friends with older kids feel that way. But for now (and the past 4 years), nap time is a mainstay of my existence. Without it, I almost don't know who I will be. Stay tuned, some day you'll see.

Only child, mother of two

So far in my parenting life, with two little girls, I have amassed quite a lot of skills. The newborn stuff is down pat, babies crawling and walking I'm pretty good at, and I'm honing my toddler skills each hour. However, my life experience has a gigantic gaping hole in it that I could really stand to draw from right now: sibling life.

I am an only child. I like it this way because I really don't know any different. My life has been wonderful and quite blessed. But what I haven't learned enough of is what it's like to live with a sibling -- kind of critical information being a mother of two.

L's brother is six years younger, so he has a few insights, but definitely not insights that involve siblings close in age. Most of my friends are siblings, so I've gleaned a fair amount of info just from observing over the years.

Here's where you come in: I'm looking for your tips. You can post them here, e-mail them to me, tell me, whatever's easiest. If you grew up with a sibling close to your age, tell me what your parents did that you liked. Tell me what they did that you didn't like. Did you get the same presents? Do the same activities? Share a room?

Help a sister (get it?) out here. I'd love to hear from you.

Another one bites the dust

I spoke too soon about our collective improving health. L and I were up in the night with both kids at different times. In a cruel twist of fate, Peanut appears to be teething -- and right when all her crud is clearing up.

Jellybean, on the other hand, apparently has some new crud of her own with a fever and cough. Because we're leaving this Sunday to fly to the grandparents, I squeezed her in to see the doctor today. She saw a different doctor than Peanut, but same result: some sort of bacterial infection so antibiotics are in order.

So now, in addition to the 95 million things we're carrying on the plane, we must somehow incorporate a cooler to keep our liquid antibiotics chilled the whole time (and get them through security, God willing).

L and I were already scrambling around like mad people this week: he, trying to get exams graded, and I, trying to handle Christmas and travel chores so he could grade said exams. We should be enjoying the snowfall and a lovely bottle of red wine in the evenings. Instead, our interactions this week have consisted of conversations about coughing and snot at 4 a.m. Isn't marriage romantic?

The darker side of motherhood

I was brutally honest with a total stranger yesterday, and she thanked me. She was expecting her second child, who will be 18 months younger than her first, and I told her that it won't be easy for a while. In fact, I told her she may feel like she made a gigantic mistake at times, especially early on, but she'll get through it.

Why did I do that, besides impulsiveness? No one told me these things when I was pregnant with Peanut. My girls are 22 months apart. I just wanted someone -- anyone -- to give me insights on what it is like to have two very little kids. I wanted to know good, bad or ugly. But no one really opened up to me. I'm an only child, so my parents weren't much help. L's brother is six years younger, so my in-laws were out. I would go places with Jellybean while bursting at the seams with Peanut, and hardly anyone even mentioned what it's like with two kids. So I went into dual motherhood quite blindly -- luckily, with lots of support.

The first five months or so with my girls were very tough. Don't get me wrong: There were some wonderful times amidst the struggle. Every time Jellybean kissed Peanut or Peanut giggled at Jellybean, it made my day (or my week!). But between sleep deprivation, breastfeeding hormones and chasing a mischievous 2-year-old, I was pretty worn out physically and mentally. L was fantastic and very involved. Unfortunately, he had to teach night classes that school year, so I was on my own for dinner and bedtime with two babies a couple nights a week. That didn't help.

Pretty soon, though, when Peanut could sit up and play, things started to get easier. I could put her down and she could entertain herself while I, say, took Jellybean to the bathroom. When Peanut hit nine months and she could move herself to where she wanted to be, it actually started being fun! We could play and have a good time, and there was a whole lot less crying (from all of us!).

I told the stranger lady most of this yesterday. Don't worry, I didn't just walk up to her and say, "Oh, you're pregnant. Wow, that's gonna be rough." She started fishing for how far apart my girls were, and I could just tell she needed someone to tell her things -- just like I had secretly wished. After we chatted for ten minutes or so, she looked me in the eye and thanked me for being so honest. She said everyone around her expects everything to be so beautiful and.... I stopped her there and said that there will be beautiful moments. Just use those to get you through everything else, and you'll be fine.

Why is it socially unacceptable for a mother to admit that being a mother is a hard job?

Little-girl playdate

This morning while Jellybean was at preschool, Peanut and I got to have a playdate of sorts. Our little neighbor S came over to play while her parents went to check out a potential preschool for her. S is about 8 months older than peanut and 14 months younger than Jellybean, so she's almost smack-dab between my two girls.

It was good to have a playmate for Peanut who is closer to her age than Jellybean -- and without Jellybean around. Peanut loved having S over to play and kept repeating "hi" and a mangled version of S's name, which was very cute. They spent a lot of time NOT sharing and NOT wanting to take turns with things like the rocking horse and the musical chair, so all in all I consider it a success!

I remembered today that two things happen at every playdate: 1. Something (usually a toy) gets broken, and 2. Kids adapt at least one bad habit from each other.

Something small did get messed up, but it was very trivial. The latter remains to be seen, but I'm guessing it'll either involve Peanut putting things in her mouth (she had gotten past this, but S still prefers to taste-test toys) or standing on chairs. Stay tuned.