Keeping up Appearances

The blog looks pretty unkempt right about now. Apparently hackers broke into my theme and inserted links they hoped people would click on like, “Bill Cosby travels to China, check it out!”. I’m completely serious. So I have a little bit of work to do clearing out the theme and making it pretty again.

Speaking of appearances…I feel like I mostly post out of my messy, very real places. I write about things that I struggle with, hoping someone can relate and that they will feel less alone, and because articulating it in writing usually helps me process. And though relating doesn’t necessarily solve things, it always helps to know someone else thinks the same things, and that in itself can help you move forward. Or just feel less alone while you’re by yourself drinking your morning coffee waiting for your kids to wake up. Which I’m still doing. I’m actually just waiting on Bryce, Addie has been up since dawn, but man, can that boy sleep. He’s just storing energy to he can climb on tables, chairs, into sinks, and laugh while my heart stops 18 times a day.

So heres my thought for today. While I mostly wanted to post to apologize for how beastly the blog looks, it got me thinking about the image we want to project to people.

I think that I’m normally great with people thinking I’m a work in progress, but I still want to appear to have it mostly together. To have my house look super clean and cute when you come over. To appear not to worry about what people think, if someone likes me or (eegads!) doesn’t, or thinks I’m doing a good job, whatever that means, but my head still thinks it.

What God has been trying to tell me this year, and it gets projected louder and louder each time I struggle with this (I’m pretty sure He has resorted to yelling, in the most loving way possible, at this child he adores), is that His voice is the one that needs to be the loudest, not all of the other voices I look to for approval, even pastors. He is the one who will tell me how I’m doing, where I need to go. I’m looking to drown out all of the other voices, until His is the one I hear most clearly, and look to most often.

On that note, I just heard a thud coming from Bryce’s room. I’m assuming he just threw a book, but I’m going to go make sure he hasn’t hurled himself.

First night

This morning at playgroup a fellow mom told me about the 8 week sleep solution, or something like that, that she and her husband had implemented for their daughter. I haven’t been excited about implementing routines, but I know its important to get Addie on something that is healthy for her.

Tony has been reading “Healthy Habits, Happy Baby” and summarizing the important parts for me. I’ve been too tired actually trying to get Addie to sleep in the middle of the night to bother reading about it during the day. Apparently the author discusses a similar concept to be put into practice on or around 8 weeks. Addie is now about there, and tonight was the big event. From what I’ve been told, you are supposed to put them down while they are still somewhat awake, so they can learn to get themselves to sleep. Tony is playing hockey tonight, so I did it all by myself and…

it worked!

I think she actually feel asleep more easily than if I had been in the room; sometimes it feels like if she senses I’m around, it’s harder for her to fall asleep. Or perhaps this is just a great night and she’s giving me a break to chill downstairs and have a glass of wine.

Of course, while I’m downstairs blogging/facebooking, I’m also obsessively checking the video monitor to make sure that theres movement in that little bassinet. The technique says that you’re supposed to let them cry it out. I’m not a big believer in a “one way” type of parenting…I also don’t know if I’m ‘man’ enough to let my kid sob upstairs all by herself. Is that what it means to be a parent? Ick. Perhaps I’ll get there. She’s starting to cry now according to my monitors noise meter…its hard to watch them look so sad. Tough it out Katie. Tough it out.

On other news, Mom and Baby hit the gym for the second time today. Addie did well, she slept like an angel throughout the horrendous screaming of a fellow baby, this one probably about 8 or 9 months old. I now know what it feels like to be that mom with the child that the entire YMCA can hear exercising her lungs, but I couldn’t help but kind of giggle. Not because I was glad it wasn’t my child, just because, for some reason hearing the harmonious noise of a ton of children screaming at once makes me so glad I don’t work in childcare. Those very unfortunate but heroic ladies at my YMCA deserve medals. And a strong drink.

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