IF THAT AIN'T LOVE

Last night I slept on the floor. Yes. The floor. Next to Baby-Ko's crib. In a fetal position. Using his changing pad as pillow, and my robe as a blanket, I managed to squeeze my arm through a slat so that my son, my very (possibly terrible) two year old son, could hold my hand, and eventually (pray god) fall the eff asleep.

Two hours and one majorly numb hip later, I gently removed my hand from his grip, and literally crept out of the room cursing every creak my exhausted knees caused as I crawled down the hallway.

For about a week now, I have broken every rule in THE sleep book. He cries. I pick him up. I put him down. I go in. I go out. I sleep with him. He sleeps with me. He eats. I eat. He drinks. I drink. It's like sleep training all over again only worse: He TALKS. He can reason with me. He can beg. He can plead. And he can even make me laugh in the middle of the night. (Not sure why he said he wanted "Meat-a-balls" in the middle of the night. But he did. And it was funny).

The point is, I'm clueless mommy 101 right now and I've got to get a grip. I've got to get him back to sleep and I've got to be consistent. It's hard to know if his new bad habit (which seems to strike at about 1:45am) is the result of something environmental or something developmental, but holy shit: I'm tired.

As I put Baby-Ko to sleep tonight and promised him that I would be in the other room all night, and that tonight, he would sleep in his room ALONE, surrounded by Eeyore, Tigger, Teddy, Monkey and his favorite three blankets, I prayed that he understood what I was saying. I prayed that he understood that I love him so much and that I would sleep on the floor all night with my hand through a slat if I had to.... but that I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to. That I'm pretty sure that it will only make things harder down the road if I don't nip this in the bud now (again). And that when he's 17, and I'm still checking for monsters under his bed, (and giving him cheerios in a bowl because he simply asks for it at 3am because I'm simply exhausted) his buddies won't think it's very cool...

At least that's what I'm telling myself tonight.... tears and all.

Wish me luck.... And send me your best sleep training advice. Seriously. Just not at 1:45 am. I''ll probably be a little... wrapped up....

THE DIRTIEST MOMMY ON THE BLOCK

HELLLOOOOO. It has been a LONG time since I've posted. There's been a lot brewing in the world of J-Ko-- and it's been a little tough to find the time and "juices" to write-- NOT that there HASN'T been much to write about.... From my Baby-Ko's obsession with "Fuck!" (aka. "Hopkins" the FROG on "Signing Times"), to his brilliant three word sentence "I feeling it" (which he declared on Mother's Day as he fondled the clothes on every rack at Nordstrom), to the fact that I "blow my wad," so to speak, within the first five minutes of a walk with Baby-Ko because he devours every snack I've brought to bribe him to stay in the stroller....

But alas, Baby-Ko has discovered You Tube (not kidding) and I've got a few minutes to jot down my thoughts....

Remember when I was a SAHM and felt disheveled from head to toe? When my "uniform" was sweats and a tank, scarf in my hair and big sunglasses and maybe, just maaaybe a little concealer to hide the bags under my eyes (should I need to remove said glasses once entering fine establishments such as Target, Trader Joes, or Whole Foods)? And then I turned in to full time WM and had to get my act together (a little bit) on the appearance front-- handing Baby-Ko bangles and blush brushes to keep him occupied as I zipped off to work...?

Well, now I'm back. Disheveled is back. Not so perfect and certainly not very clean. On average, I shower every 1.5 days and am down to a Monday and Wednesday Hair washing routine. (Seriously, on a Monday or Wednesday, I could very well turn down plans with a "Oh, that'd be swell. But I've got to wash my hair" - and it'd be true!). These days I'm feeling grungier than ever and frankly, it's not all that terrible. Who needs to get dressed up to go to the park? Who needs to get dressed up only to have your 20 month old kiss and hug you, after feeding himself yogurt and avocado? Who needs to get dressed up if you don't even have time for a shower? Not me! Oh, no. I am happy to hang in my own filth. After all, I think a dirty mommy is a sign of a mom who's played hard and worked hard. In fact, I think the blue pen I noticed on my face after being out and about for HOURS says a lot about the kind of mommy I am.... Thanks to Harvey Karp, not only is Baby-Ko the Happiest Toddler on The Block, but he's got the THE DIRTIEST MOMMY ON THE BLOCK.

Speaking of which, I was invited by a neighbor to go to the park "with some of the other 'neighborhood' mommies." Turns out it is a Mom's Club thing, but she promises me that the mom's are all nice and kids around the same age.... Fortunately, there aren't any ducks or monster like turtles at this park, because we all remember what happened last time I was "In Da Club..." Wish me luck.... :-)