Daniel, go the F*@K to sleep! (a cry for help after a sleepless night)

Dear Daniel,

You've always been such a dream.  So fun, so smart and (seriously) the best sleeper we could have ever asked for.  When you were a baby and we were ready to "cry it out" you just slept.  Your naps were like clockwork and long and sweet. You used to reach for your crib at night because you loved being in it.  Moving to a big boy bed was easy as pie.  Sleeping has never been an issue...  (see exhibit 1)

Until 4 nights ago.

Suddenly, every night is a struggle.  You don't want to go to sleep unless we are either in your bed or in your chair.  You struggle against sleep for as long as possible, constantly popping your head up to make sure we're there.  While the "5 minute" rule has worked for as long as I can remember, you suddenly freak out after we try to leave, screaming and crying (and more screaming).

But, during bedtime, you eventually fall asleep.

And then sometime between 1:30am and 3:00am some kind of secret sleep demon sneaks into your body and turns you into a complete lunatic.  What is this?  Where did this sleepless child come from and how the hell to we make him go away and return our Daniel to us?

Last night was the worst.  We were up with you from 1:58am until Daddy eventually got into bed with you at 3:30.  You screamed at the top of your lungs the entire time.  I didn't get back to sleep until after 4:30.  Yes, 4:30am!  Amazingly Lucy didn't wake up - but I can imagine that our neighbors did.

We read a part of a book that tells us that locking you into your room is better than hurting you.  I said "hurting?  are you kidding? who on earth would do that?".  But after 2 hours of that crap, I can totally understand why that author says it.

We need help.  We need sleep.

No More Pull-Ups(?)

Last night Daniel told us that he is no longer going to sleep in pull-ups.  Period.  End of story. (we've been talking about making the move for about a month but I have a feeling that the footed Superman pajamas that come with a cape may have given him that extra boost of confidence he needed to just go for it!)

And so he's not.

And when he woke up at 6am, his underpants and his bed were dry.

If this turns out to be as easy and quick as his potty training, he should win some kind of Big-Boy-Potty-User-of-the-Year Award.

When I'm 14

The two block walk to school allows for some of the best conversations with Daniel. Yesterday he told me that it was so foggy that he had to wear his new headlamp in order for us to find the school (Chanukah gift courtesy of his Uncle ChiChi and Aunt Yaya):

Lately Daniel likes to talk about the future.  Specifically when he's "really really big.  When I'm 14, Mommy!" And today he told me about some seriously big plans:

Daniel: "When I'm 14 I'm going to be really really strong and I will lift up a house!"
Me:  "No way, man!  Only Superman can lift up a house"
Daniel pauses and thinks about that for a minute or so and then we pass an iron fence.
Daniel:  "When I'm 14 I will be so strong that I will be able to break this fence! I will break this fence and then walk through it, Mommy!"
Me:  "Wow.  That will be something to see.  When you're 14 we'll come here and try it.  By the way, that's in 11 years."
Daniel:  "Well, when I'm 14 I will be bigger and stronger than you and I will break the fence!"

I hope that he always has this level of confidence.

Two Standout Chanukah Gifts

Let the videos speak for themselves, but Nanny and Papa have killed it in the Chanukah department this year (note to reader:  Matt's bass is not a gift - his gift is finally being able to jam with his son!).  Two of the standout gifts in action:

Writing his Name

Daniel goes to an amazing "school" called the Scandinavian School of Jersey City (see this post from his first day).  We could not ask for a better place for him to spend his days, but he rarely goes into detail about his days there (we just know he loves it).

Today we had a parent/teacher conference and they gave us this picture - his first time attempting his name all by himself.  I cried.

So, I asked Daniel to tell me how he spells his name, which he did.  I then told him I wanted to film him spelling his name for the blog.  Which he did... kind of:

My Last Night of Breastfeeding

Tonight was it.  The end of the boob party for Lucy.

Let's be honest, this is also the end of the most beautiful thing I do at the end of every day and I can't even begin to pretend that it's easy for me.  Yes, I cried while nursing her tonight.  Yes, I'm already in bed (it's 8:30pm) feeling sad and lonely.  But, it's time to do it and I just want to make sure to record my feelings.

I've been weaning Lucy for a while now and have taken my sweet time doing so.  Since going back to work in a different role than I left, I knew that I wouldn't be traveling and it allowed me to nurse Lucy for just a little longer than I was able to do with Daniel.  I didn't expect to keep it going for 10 months, but now that I'm saying goodbye to it, it feels way too short.

Lucy latched on immediately and nursed perfectly from day one (complete opposite from Daniel with whom I went through nursing hell for six weeks before everything clicked).  She was super loud and would make high pitched sighing sounds as she nursed when she was an infant.  One night when my mother-in-law was spending the night to help us, we both just started laughing because of the noise and she told me that I could never bring Lucy into a movie theater while nursing.

Lucy was also an extremely aggressive nursing baby.  She kind of thrashed around to get to my boob and really attacked that milk!  And, above all, she was (and probably still will be) a serious PINCHER.  That girl could almost draw blood with those finger tips.  I usually had black and blue marks on my chest and upper arms from her aimlessly pinching my skin.  I would gasp in pain... though now I think it's kind of cute.  I remember that Daniel used to softly and lovingly play with my hair while I nursed him.  This girl could not have been more different!

I hope I always remember a little bit of nursing her... not only the pinching, but the way she would laugh while nursing and how, lately, she dives into my chest when she's getting hungry or tired.

I have loved every second of nursing both of my kids (errr... ok, not that first six weeks with Daniel) and I feel so fortunate for being able to do so for so long.  Since I doubt I'm having any more children, I'm likely saying goodbye to it forever which is probably why I'm so emotional now.

I'll always think of the hours upon hours that I spent alone in a room nursing my children as a gift that only I truly know about or understand - no matter what I write or say - because it was only me and them, only our thing.

And now that I got that over with, I'm happy to return to normal bras, smaller boobs (I pray!)  and no more questions that go like this: "Matt, do you think I drank too much to nurse Lucy?".