Sleep Regression. Otherwise Known as Hell on Earth


If you can't see the video, go here foo. 

I don't know why I thought making a video would somehow be easier than writing. I had to wait four days to get some damn sleep before I could even begin to process the idea that I would have to then edit said video.

(It ain't Snapchat after all!)

A couple of days later...after quite a few tearful meltdowns I have the beginnings of a sleep journey documented. I'm laughing as I type this because the pessimist in me keeps slapping me stupid and reminding me that I don't really believe Z is in a phase. I kind of think she's going to take 20 minute crap naps her entire life. She'll be 20 years old, still sleeping only 20 minutes at a time, living at home and asking me if she can nurse.

I may be losing sleep, but I haven't lost my sense of humor. (I think. Everything hurts so I may have and just not felt that yet.)

The sleep trainer is calling us today. I might cry because I'm totally waiting for her to say "Oh this kid is hopeless! I've never seen someone this wound up and clearly gone. You've rocked her and nursed her to sleep?! You've ruined all chances of her self soothing!"

Hopefully she comes in like Super Nanny and saves the day. I had a dream this morning (she actually slept for TWO WHOLE HOURS!) and in that dream I was Super Mom and I had the power to magically scan Z's body for ailments so that I would know why the fuck she keeps waking.


"She's wet."


"Her eczema is flaring up!"


"She's teething!"

Wouldn't THAT be grand.

... wish us luck.


One dazed and confused walking zombie.

ps can we all just ignore the weird thing on my lip in part of the video? Who knows what it was... a chili flake, baby poop. This is motherhood in all its glory. Lets just chalk up to life in the trenches and call it a mother truckin' day.

Rebel in the Open

I'm back...sporadically (queue the scene from Clueless!) and I have so many thoughts and feelings and things I've been meaning to share, but there's too much and the hole/window to release all those things is super small right now. Instead, I share this article that made my heart swell.

I love messages like this. I print them out and neatly fold them into Z's baby book for her to read when she's older.

This one in particular was near and dear to my heart because it reminds me of something my Grandma Mary has always shared. When I was younger and filled with a precocious need to tease her I'd end our visits with, "Now remember to be good."

She'd pull away from me with a look of disappointment and say, "Oh Tish...never tell a woman to be good. Where's the fun in being good?"

She was and is still a wise, wonderful and witty woman. AGREED! Where is the fun in limiting girls that way? Now that I'm older and have a spunky little nugget of my own I'm much more sensitive to what my daughter hears...what she learns. The messages that float around have to be positive and clear.

It's a harsh world out there for our girls...we have to fight like crazy to build them up so that when Society the Bully comes a'knocking (and it will) they're ready and able.

Rebel in the open, women!

Luv and Kiwi,

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