I Call it Co-Notsleeping

We are not the bed sharing type over here at Lint Trap Manor. I like my sleep space. I like for Lady Baby to have her sleep space. We are together a heck of a lot in the waking hours and I need time to be without her. I am lucky that she sleeps perfectly perfect most of the time by her lonesome so there is no need or desire for her to sleep in our bed. 


Then we go on vacation and we enter the anything goes mode and she sleeps where she wants, as long as she will sleep. By anywhere she wants, I mean our bed or her crib. I do not let my beautiful flower sleep on train tracks or in bear caves. This started because on most of our vacations she sleeps in our room in her pack in play. Therefore, if she wakes in the night and sees us asleep across the room, she can only assume that we should all hang out. She is all, "you are here, I am here. Lets have a tickle party and sing Bye Bye Black Sheep super loud. Then I will poke your eyelids and say your name repeatedly. This is going to be super fun." But its not super fun. It is super awful. When she is in our bed she cannot settle. There are covers and extra people to chat with and pillows. All things that interfere with sleeping when you are two and used to a crib. She flails and flops and flings her hair and sighs. It is super active sleeping and it is all up in my space. My space. Mine. Not hubs. MINE. Then, sometimes she decides that balled up white blankie is not a good enough pillow and the she wants to use another pillow. AKA, my pillows. So then she slams her little hard head upon my bosom and I cry out silently, because if I do it aloud she will take that as an invitation to strike up a conversation about octagons. So I silent scream and slide her down so she is draped awkwardly upon my midsection. If she resists, then I slide her up and she ends up jammed up under my chin. Then I go to half-sleep with the inability to yawn and baby hair all up my nose. Good times. Not good sleep.

This was the calmest part of the family
cosleep experience. Of course, it was
after I got up. Grrrrrrr.

This past weekend we went to Merlefest (a weekend bluegrass music festival about an hour away) and camped for two nights. It was great and we had a fantastic time. Except for the hours normally reserved for sleep. Those were less then amazing.  The first night Her Highness did not think sleeping without us in the tent was a doable option. Instead she played, sang, and went through our bags, while we hung out and drank beer around the campfire. Every little bit she would call out for us. She got so annoyed she finally started shouting, "Thea, Thea, come heeeerrrrreee." I gave up and went to bed, where I was pummeled and strangled and flailed upon by a toddler for many long hours. We also had a slow leak in the air mattress and I ended up trying to get comfortable without really moving because when there is not enough air in a plastic mattress any move will rock your bed mate's world, and not in the good way. Obviously I did not care if I rolled hubs off the bed, but I did not want to wake the sleeping honey badger for any reason. Not to mention I couldn't find my socks in the dark and I was fa-fa-freezing. I have never been so happy to see 6.30 in my life. I am actually pretty sure I have never been happy to see 6.30. Ever. Until this day. The second night, we borrowed a DVD player and settled Lady Baby on our brand new emergency purchase air mattress with the ever annoying Max and Ruby. She watched it a few times through and passed out. When I finally got in bed several hours later after too much fun, she immediately snuggled up so close that I was basically hanging off the edge of the mattress. So comfy. I spent half the night with half my body dangling off the mattress while trying to shift child over inch by inch closer to her other parent who was sleeping quite peacefully. Not to mention it was even colder and even though I had the foresight to put my socks on while I was still able to locate them, and I had an extra pair for my hands, it was not enough. I was cold to my very core, and the child cried out very loud  THISCLOSE to my ear every time she got her feet caught in the covers. Therefore the covers were up and down despite the fact it was 50 degrees and my core body temperature was similar to those people they pack in ice for a heart transplant. Again, 6:30 am was my friend.


Had the child slept in her peapod per the initial plan, there would still have been the busted mattress and the freezy temps. However, getting her in there was a bit like putting a cat in a bag. If the cat could sob and say "mommy mommy please please, I get out." Instead we went three deep and I didn't sleep so great. Translation=I was awake more than I was asleep. However, opening my eyes and seeing the most sweetest sleeping angel's little face an inch from mine made it worth it. All the punches, all the mouths full of hair, all the cover kicking. I love those early snuggles when everyone is still half asleep. She burrows in between us and puts her hand in my hand or rubs her daddy's arm. It is all so peaceful and calm. I suspect people that cosleep have this experience often. I am a little jealous that they get to wake often to a smiling baby face. They get to see their loves go to sleep and wake up. They get to watch them dream and hold them during a nightmare. I think that part of it is beautiful and lovely. However, I cannot imagine sharing my 8 hours every night. I love her more than life, but I do not love sleeping with her. All the cuddles in the world do not make up for lost sleep. Mommy and daughter both need our own space. I do not feel guilty that she went in her own crib at 5 days and has only spent a handful of nights in our bed. I do not worry that she feels unloved or lonely. I do not think I have missed crucial bonding. Others can do what they want, but cosleeping is not in my family's best interest. Mommy needs to sleep without midnight serenades and karate chops to the sternum. At this point hubs is lucky I let him share the bed. I will just have to enjoy those early morning Lady Baby snuggles when we are out of town. Just another reason for me to enjoy our time together on vacation! 

To Mrs. McCleany, from Mrs. McDirty

This picture is my love letter to my girl J over at Poop on a Hot Tin Slide.  Me thinks she is having a no good very bad day. I drive past this several times a week and today I slowed down and risked my life (not really) to take this picture. And that was before I knew she was feeling blue. That is some  psychic love right there. I may have never met my blogging sistah from another mistah, but we have a mutual love of snark, sarcasm, and spelling phonetically. Also we both know we are the funniest people ever. Y'all go check out my girl's blog. She is hilar and you will love her. 

(she has a wee little bit of a potty mouth which of course makes me love her even more, but if you are easily offended, and it would have to be veeeerrrryyy easily, don't click.)

Also, I am sure this is a lovely and reputable organization doing lovely and reputable things. I am in now way saying they should or should not be recycling mattresses. I have no idea what they do or don't do. What I do know is that J will love me long time for this picture. If you go read her blog you will see why. Also, please disregard the 37inches of dust on my dash. That's kinda embarressing. But only kinda.


The Lint Trap hearts Poop on a Hot Tin Slide (that is her blog, not something that I actually heart. But if I saw it, I feel like it would be a life changer.)


xo

Catbetus

We have a had some drama over here at the world wide headquarters of The Lint Trap. Our cat is sick. Sweet Gypsy, my first baby, is unwell. She has...dum dum dum...die-a-beat-us. In the last two months the poor thing has lost half her body weight and went from being the Adele of cats to being the Amy Winehouse of cats. I was going to let her ride out her golden years and go quietly into the night, but then my guilt got the best of me. Four days and $450 later, the cat has to be on special food and get insulin injections twice a day. Upon hearing this, hubs was interested in alternatives. Unfortunately, there are no alternatives except that farm in the sky. Shots and fancy food it is. I am happy I could bring to light a serious problem for cat owners. It is real and effecting cats throughout our nation. I am thinking of organizing  Toodle for the Catbetus Cure. It will be awesome. I am sure I can get Betty White, Sarah McLaughlin and Bill Barker on board. Until then, please support the cause by purchasing your wrist bands at this informative website: Feline Diabetes. 


We are turning into a regular assisted living for animals over here. Last year the dog tore her ACL two weeks after she was diagnosed with Nephritis, which is a fancy word for bo-bo kidneys. So she gets four pills in the morning and three at night. Not to mention that she has chronic anxiety and is an all around nervous wreck. I am going to start making the animals stand in line for their little white cups. The only pet that is healthy is our cat that is mean and hateful and very possibly the spawn of Satan. We are pretty sure she is too angry to die, which hub hates because we also think she is the angry peer mentioned here. I think Lucifer was happy I took her and he is no hurry to get his black leather furniture messed up. Therefore she has been sentenced to roam the earth, peeing on couches for eternity.


Hopefully Gypsy will turn the corner and get back to her happy obese self, but it is hard to imagine that will happen. I think I need to face the facts that she is living out her last months, if not days. If the disease doesn't take her, the anxiety of constant vet visits probably will. She has reactionary peeing when being thrust into the carrier and cat-screams the whole way to and fro. Until the time that she strolls into the light, I will keep giving her injections and food that is apparently made from organic mice ears and grain fed gold fish. This is the hard part about having pets. We take them for granted and then they up and get the 'beetees and that is that. 


A visual so you don't get confused:

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Diabetes cat

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Devil Cat

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Bo-Bo kidney dog

(for those that don't know, which seems to be everyone but me and George Lopez,  he a kidney transplant.)

The Lint Trap is Growing Up

New and exciting news...I now have my own domain name! When this option became available at Blogger, I decided it was time. Time for The Lint Trap to get reals, yo. We are all grown up! Make sure when you search us (which I know you do on a daily basis if you don't have it bookmarked) we are now theaslinttrap.com.

All grown up. Like K Stew but with less angst and head ducking. 

Triad Mom's on Main

Today the ladies over at Triad Mom's on Main are running one of my posts. I am super excited and can hardly believe it! It's my first guest spot of this type and I would love y'all to check it out. You may have read the post before, but go read it again. Just for giggles. You won't be sorry. I read it again and cracked myself up. Not that that is hard. Anyhoo, scoot over there by clicking here and read it then make a comment about how amazeballs this new blogger is. Maybe mention that you would love to see more. Or that she is the next Blogess. Whatevs. Use your imagination, just make me look good, Lint Nation. I am counting on you.

Another link, just in case you missed the first two: TRIAD MOM'S ON MAIN

Now go, click like the wind and make me proud.


xoxoxxo

Weddings: Continuing Ed for Married People

Last night I had the honor of attending the most beauteous wedding of one of my most favorite couples. There were gorgeous hot pink dresses, those paper lantern balls that make everything feel like a party from the Martha Stewart magazine, and a delish beef-wrapped-in-bacon situation that made me very glad I wore a not-tight dress. But it wasn't the free booze or the tiny quiches that I most enjoyed. It was watching two people radiate that glow of excitement that comes from knowing you are doing something really big and life changing. It was being able to feel the love when they looked at each other during their vows. Watching her cry walking down the aisle and seeing his smile that was beyond huge. Weddings are a beautiful expression of hope and love and serve as a reminder to those of us that have been married for a minute of how we felt the day we tied the knot. 


A few months ago I talked a little about our marriage here. When you have been married for 100 8 years, sometimes its hard to remember what that excitement felt like. Like when we are having a standoff about who is going to roll the trashcans in. Or when we can't agree on who's turn it is to change the poop diaper. Life rolls on, and everyday we get further away from the day we got married. We pay bills and eat dinner and argue about which show to watch. Married life it is not all slow dancing and sweet glances. When I am picking up dirty socks, the loveliness of our vows is not what I am thinking about. But then, we go to a wedding and it all comes back. The bride and groom, the vows, the kiss, the first dance. Each things takes me back to my own wedding. I vividly relive that amazing feeling of being wrapped up in all that love and excitement for the future. Attending a wedding is continuing ed for married folk. It is a way to be reminded of how we felt when everything was new and fresh and rosy. Before we bought a house, had a baby, bought another house, quit jobs and started other jobs. It seems like yesterday and so long ago, all at the same time. Life gets busy and we forget what it was like before it all got so complicated. 


Being married is hard. Once you are married, there is no more 'me'. There is only 'we'. Every decision made, whether it's which toilet paper to buy or which job to take, affects another person. That is a big deal. Once you have the kids, there are even more people who have to use that toilet paper. I am a true believer that it is not about the wedding day, it is about what happens everyday that follows. But the wedding is a hallmark day in a marriage. It is the first day, the precursor to all those other days. The actual marriage is filled with angry days, joyous days, and really sad days. Without that first day, we don't get to have any of the ones that come after. Seeing a couple share that first step reminds me of our own leap. I need that every once in a while. It makes me appreciate being married. I am reminded how far we have come and how much excitement we have to look forward to. 


Congrats Nathan and Steph and thanks for being a shining example of love for all of us that were there to share your special day.

This are not my friends, but it was same-same. Just imagine less medals and a shorter train.

In other news: The lovelies at Triad Moms on Main will be running one of my posts tomorrow. Please check it out and show some love! I will add a link tomorrow with the actual post.

The Hug

The other night, Lady Baby woke up right as I was getting ready to go to bed. Being the stealth operator that she is, I am sure she sensed my exhaustion as her cue to let me know she was awake and in need of some mommy time. I went in and scooped her up. After some milk and Curious George, back to bed I carried her. I read her a few stories, but she was still fussing, so I did something I haven't done in quite a while. I sat and rocked her. Those 30 minutes erased every crazy thing she had done not only that day, but the several leading up to it. It was a sweet and pure twelve hundred seconds of heavenly toddler calm. She snugged her little arm around my neck in a baby bear hug and laid her head on my shoulder. We sat and enjoyed each other the way only a parent and child can. For that half hour, she was quiet and calm and we just sat and rocked. In the whirlwind that is toddler hood, sometimes it is hard to remember that she is a little girl who has only been on this earth for two short years. There are days that I feel like we have lived a whole lifetime in the epic struggle of mommy versus child. Days spent with constant no's and tempers and flying toys. But then, I get a chance to just be still and breathe in the pure innocence and love that only a child can exude, and it reminds me that getting to be her mom is a gift. It reminds me that even when she is an imp, she is my little imp. It reminds me that I am the luckiest person in the world to be able to share these fleeting minutes with my girl. Sometimes the best medicine for both of us is to just sit and hold each other. There is no better band aid for a bad day and no better way I can remind her that she is forever safe with her mama. Some nights Lady Baby needs to be held and rocked and that's okay. I may wish lots of parts of her being little away, but never those moments of pure bliss when I can sit and be exactly what she needs. It won't last forever and sitting there the other night, I tried to imprint every deep breathe we took together into my heart.  I never want to forget the way it felt to have her arm wrapped tight around my neck as if she would never let go.

by, Marie Louise Elizaeth Vigee-LeBrun

Like this but I sleep in a tee shirt.