Elmo's World

Yesterday was my 37th birthday and I didn’t have a problem turning a year older. Not one bit. In fact, I embraced it like I would a porcupine. For my special day, I got over thrush and the cold baby gave me, my house and the detached studio was cleaned by an army of ladies, God bless their hardworking souls, and Saturday night, the Alabama nanny of yore and her sig other showed up ready to babysit so daddy could take me out to get rip roaring…I mean…to enjoy a lovely evening as a couple. It’s been a while since we have made the time to be together, just the two of us, and I am reminded of how important it is. As strong as my marriage may be, it’s extremely hard to maintain wedded bliss with a third family member in the house who would prefer to be attached to my body by any means possible. Add to this working full + time and daddy living the starving musician lifestyle and it becomes a battle of nerves, a war of egos, and lessons in the art of drinking in the closet late at night. We have agreed to make date night a weekly event no matter what. This will end up being cheaper than couples therapy if we can keep the expensive French wines off of the dinner tabs.

We revisited the Ferber Method with baby last Saturday and began the series of letting baby cry at night in loosely timed increments with no late night snacking (Thank you to Brent and Kristen for the lessons in successful Ferbering!). Daddy is the chosen one to go check on things when he squawks at night. It’s great for me but I lie there wide awake listening to the goings on with my super-sonic mommy hearing and yearn to race down and make it all better, i.e. insert boob. The first night wasn’t too bad. Willem woke up maybe three times and cried only a little. Sunday night was rough as he awoke in 15-minute clusters to cry and cry. Daddy was managing the scene from 1 a.m. until 4 a.m. patting his back, reinserting the pacifier and exiting the room. Last night, however, baby awoke at his usual feeding time (4 a.m.), screeched loud enough for me to shoot up out of bed like a rocket but then he didn’t make another peep until 7 this morning. For the first time since I was 7 months preggers, I ALMOST had a full night of uninterrupted sleep! It’s an amazing notion to consider and I pray we have perfect luck tonight although I probably just jinxed it by saying that. One downfall of this arrangement is that I practically float downstairs like an inner tube on the Guadalupe with boobs on the brink of hosing down the house.

On another baby note, Willem has yet to sprout any teeth but continues to drool like Pavlov’s dogs. He isn’t crawling yet either which is a mixed blessing. He can, however, pivot in a circle while sitting on his padded bum like an infant break dancer. He’s still maniacal about walking with parental assistance, which is completely cute, but not a solo endeavor on his part. Oh, how my back aches! We do still encourage tummy time but it really gets Willem’s fur in a dander and he fusses with deep frustration. He loves to make fart noises on my shoulder, if it’s bare, and successfully unhinges his diapers if left in his crib awake too long. He and I stollered over to Mandola’s, an Italian market in our neighborhood, Saturday morning and shared a bear claw while watching the water splash in the fountain on the patio. It was a quiet morning, just us and the grackles. Piglet, who I thought we had lost in Spain at a ham market, fell out of the stroller en route but was discovered on our return in the middle of the street with tread marks and a crumbled rattle in his head. He has now joined Sock Monkey on the island of rehabbing toys.

So daddy is home for two weeks straight and we are playing family to the fullest. It’s so nice to grill out, watch a movie and turn in at nearly the same time each night. I had gotten use to being a single working mom but I prefer married working mom/wife much, much more.