Party Like Its...um...2009

Party, party. Homestead Mama and I celebrated the end of 2008 sitting on the couch with wonky stomachs, a sick kid upstairs and DVR on the TV. Rock on! 1999 was indeed a very different kind of party. I remember quite a bit more champagne was involved.

Monito woke me up at around 5:30 am to nurse, and I couldn't fall back asleep due to stress. It was most sad, as I had been dreaming that I was a member of an erotic yoga troupe. No kidding - I haven't had that much night time excitement in quite a while. I usually spend an hour or two each night awake and reading because of anxiety, but oy. It is so annoying when the kids actually sleep in a bit and I'm awake, exhausted, and reading a book trying to distract myself long enough to fall asleep again. My brain has always manifested night stress badly and in an excitingly different way than daytime stress. I can be dozing peacefully, almost asleep, and suddenly I'll sense my mind searching for the stress hook. Once I remember whatever is the most stressful thing going on at the moment, my mind replays the worst case scenario over and over and over, just like when your Shawn Cassidy record has ended and you hear the same circular scritch-scritch-scritch as the needle hits the paper label until you turn off the record player. [I've just lost half the readers, who have never played an actual vinyl record and can't relate. And hey, Shawn was cool there for a while.] This thought process is always irrational, and morning brings calm and perspective, but who really cares when I'm clocking less than 6 hours of sleep a night? I have developed a couple replacement thoughts that override the process if I can insert them before my brain locks onto the anxiety. One is of floating down a river that is warm and pebbled with beautiful stones, another good one is harvesting gorgeous home grown veggies from a huge garden in the hot sun, with bees buzzing, birds chirping, etc. Anyway, these failed me last night and I was awake; the only escape is to read. Perhaps I'll try anti-anxiety meds after I'm done breastfeeding but for now I'm stuck with my own unquiet mind.

Monito fell back asleep after nursing. Pequita sat up alert at 7ish, and I took her downstairs so H-Mama and Monito could sleep in. The first thing she saw was the new picture cube I made for them - another thrift store find. I bought it to put letters in it, so they could spin them and spell 3-letter words, but they just aren't ready. So pictures of all the grandparents and some cousins are there to spin around and admire. She loved it. She helped me make a pot of coffee - they both love to measure the grounds out and pour the water in the machine - and then began the complicated ritual of setting up her horse farm. Many Playmobile horses and riders, some Schleich draft horses, and some food and water. All was well until her brother made his first peep upstairs. Then the horrifying prospect of having to share her horses caused a complete pack up. By the time I had zipped upstairs to fetch the boy and brought him back downstairs so H-Mama could continue sleeping in, this was all that was left. I can't say that the sharing process has gone perfectly, but they do fairly well except for their favorite toys. For Pequita, that is her horses.

Monito's affections lie in different areas. His deep and abiding love for Noo Noos of all shapes and sizes continues to be totally annoying and quite sweet. We scored a huge coup yesterday at the thrift store when we went to drop off the first of several batches of items purged from our crowded house; it would seem others have had a similar idea, as there, on a shelf, was a dust buster Noo Noo for only $2.99. Could no one else see the value? Apparently not, as we had no competition for it. It charges up beautifully and he can vacuum with it for about 25 minutes before it has to be plugged in again. He isn't allowed to use it when anyone is sleeping, so this morning my 18-month old sat patiently, lovingly, next to the new Noo Noo we call Buster for a full 15 minutes waiting for H-Mama to wake up. He melts me sometimes.