sleep deprivation sucks!

Don't let this peaceful lady fool you! This is not me. This is what I hope to be at some time in my life again.

With Harry out of town again, I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I swear the children are out to get me sometimes. We've had lots of rough nights over the years - what with little Harry's ability to sustain himself on about 3 hours sleep. Then we had the baby. We hoped that she would be a "good" sleeper, but we were wrong.
The only time she actually sleeps all night long is when she is getting sick. Then we have several nights of torture.

Last night was particularly fun:
9:30 - yes, everyone is asleep
10:00 - I'm asleep
11:00 - Anna Kate is awake
11:25 - I'm asleep
2:30 - Anna Kate is awake
3:00 - I'm asleep
5:00 - Anna Kate is up and this one will take a bottle to get her back to sleep. So I shuffle to the kitchen. On my way, I step on a suspicious item in the hallway and encounter a wet spot on the carpet. After Anna Kate has her bottle and is asleep, I go to check what I've found. There's a small turd (courtesy of Iris the cat) on the floor in the hall that I've squished with my foot, and Lucy (the dog) has peed on the carpet. Why I don't know. I let her out before I went to bed. So I get it all cleaned up and go to the bathroom to wash my hands, when, yeah - I step in cat pee left for me by Iris. Get that all cleaned up, head to bed and finally fall asleep around 5:45 thinking I'll have until at least 7.
6:07 - little Harry shows up. He lies down, but rolls around and rubs my arms furiously which is what he does when he's tired.
6:30 - I kick him out with strict instructions to be quiet
7:07 - "Mommy time to get up", Harry says. He informs me that the sun is in the sky and I need to be up. I mumble something about a rough night and 10 more minutes. He tries to argue, but gives up. Did I mention that I hear Anna Kate now too?
7:17 - Anna Kate demands attention and so I'm up for the day.

Maybe Anna Kate will take a long nap this morning? Oh, and did I mention that the ants that keep trying to invade my home are still finding and unknown way in? I can't wait for Harry to get home! I miss him and love him lots, but right now, I just want some sleep and his being here will get me that. Maybe little Harry will get a bigger portion of his sleep medication tonight.

Another one down

Here I am writing yet another eulogy for a another pet. This time it is in honor of Seeds the hamster. He wasn't your typical roly-poly type hamster. He was a new-fangled breed called a dwarf hamster. These little guys are smaller than a regular hamster and have an interesting trait I'll explain shortly (besides the black stripe down the back).

I'll never forget the day we got Seeds. It's burned permanently into my brain as a shining example of what NOT to do. Abbey had been asking for a hamster for so long and saved up her money for him (not easy to do when you only get $2/week). So, once she saved up about $20 we trekked down to the pet store. Me, her, and Harry. There the fun began. Harry was much younger (by about 3 years) and much less patient. He was waiting in the cart while Abbey looked at all the hamsters she saw. No problem - yet.

When Abbey finally chose the one she wanted to see, she got to go in the special little room at the pet store to "play" with him. Here's where it started. Harry wanted out. I said no. He pitched a fit, I still said no. He started screaming, I said no. He tried to unbuckle the strap for the cart - oops! He figured it out! Then the war started. While I attempted to walk Abbey through this decision, I had to fight with Harry to keep him in the cart. All of this was going on and they sales guy clearly saw I was in over my head.

Abbey declared Seeds "the one", we got all of the stuff needed for a small rodent, and hustled our selves out of that store with Harry still screeching and my pushing him down in the seat trying to bribe him with anything I could think of.

Later, when we got home and I had a chance to look at the paperwork, I discovered the joy of this breed of hamster. They were only recently domesticated, so if you don't play with them every few days - wait for it - THEY GO WILD AGAIN! What had I done? This little guy bit us every chance he got (and it hurt). He escaped a few times and barely made it once (the dog was present).

Still, he taught Abbey that you had to love the ones that don't always love you back. He also taught her some responsibility and darn it, he was cute even if he was borderline wild. In some ways, we'll miss this little guy.

PS- Did I mention it took Abbey about 15 minutes to start speculating on the possibility of getting another hamster? If she ever does, I'm not taking Harry with me this time and I'm not getting any new-fangled breeds thank you very much!

follow up to yesterday

Ok - after a sort of decent night's sleep and some time with Google, we've come up with an idea to teach sportsmanship. Every day for 5 weeks, we are going to have some kind of competition in the house (team and individual). Harry will get a sticker for each time he wins (or loses) graciously. Abbey gets a chart to, if for no other reason, just to point out what it's like to be a good sport. Pray for us (kidding aside) because this could prove to be a disaster of monstrous proportions. Abbey is already plotting competitions...I had to remind her that these were supposed to teach Harry something, not be something that's impossible for him to win (insert heavy sigh here).

2 kids, different emotions

Why is it that 2 different children of my own bearing can elicit such different emotional reactions from me? Tonight was the good and the bad. First the good. Abbey met with our Children's Minister from church to discuss baptism. Turns out she's decided she's ready and will join other folks from our church in the ceremony this week at Jordan Lake. I am so happy for her and bursting with pride.

Then there's the bad. Little Harry has had quite a bit of difficulty with the idea of being a good sport. It's really annoying. We try to tell him that it's okay and he can try again, but our simple words are met with the most heinous whine imaginable. I would rather hear nails on a chalkboard than hear the pitch this boy hits.

Tonight was no different. Our Small Group had a nice year-end wrap up at a playground/park. There were games to be played, but not by my son. No sir. Everything becomes a competition and if he's not first, then look out buddy because he's gonna whine about it. I tried several times to get him to see that it's not the end of the world, but the damn Autism got in the way. So I eventually had to take him and the baby home. All the while he was screaming "I not going home" at me. He eventually digressed to just flat out screaming at the top of his lungs. I swear he wanted to hit me, but managed to restrain himself because of the distance between the two of us in the van.

So we get home. I put the baby in the crib and haul him out of the van while he screams. By now, I'm ready to blow, but know it's pointless. I drag him upstairs, force hand washing and change him into pjs. Did I forget to mention how he threw his trains on the floor while I was getting his sleep meds? Anyhow, I got him in bed. Told him I was sorry he was sad, but maybe next time he'll remember this when he starts to whine about not winning.

Sometimes I just want to tell him to man up. I do tell him that people won't want to be his friend because nobody likes to hear it. That in and of itself makes me ashamed and feel guilty. He takes things literally, so I don't know how to work on the nuance of this social phenomenon. All the way home we argued with my telling him he won't have any friends if he keeps it up. That honestly terrifies me. He loves other people so much. I don't want him to be an outcast because he's a whiner and acts like such a poor sport (and a bit like a baby if I can be so honest).

Then I put the baby in bed. Start crying before she's in the crib, take an Ativan and colapse in a heap on the floor in hysterics because I have no where else to put my pent up emotions. Finally it slows down enough for me to form a thought. I pick myself up off the floor, load the dishwasher, and start this blog entry.

Now how in the world to I teach an Autistic child to be a good sport. Anyone? Anyone?