A Day in the Life…


I’ve started several posts to try and provide an update since the friendly inquiry of,”So how are things going?” has been asked repeatedly. So I’m going to provide a summary of a typical morning. Starting in the wee hours of the morning because, well, thats when my day starts.

4am. Zane: “Aaaaahhhhhh! Aaaahhhhhhh!!!!” *several explosive farts* “Uhn. Mmm.” *sneeze* *attempts to latch onto my collar bone* *head butts sternum* -at this point I try to roll him off my chest onto the mattress to nurse.

Me, manipulating baby and breast while maintaining the pillow strategically resting on my shoulder so I can lay down when he’s latched.
Poke Zane in face with nipple.
Zane headbutts it.
Poke again, try to get squirmy baby head in position.
Zane: “WAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!” *flails razor sharp fingernails around sensitive breast tissue while arching back. *
Me: “shhhh, it’s right there buddy” (thinking: seriously, you know how to do this, IT’S RIGHT THERE!)
Zane * bobs on nipple, licks it, smacks his head against it, attempts to latch onto the matress*
Me *re-adjust baby and boob, remind myself of learning curve*
***Cade moans****
Zane latches like it’s no big deal and sighs contentedly.
I collapse on the pillow. It’s now 430am.

548am. Cade shrieks. I check the monitor and he’s sitting up wrapping his blanket around his neck and head like a turban. It is waaaaayy too early for him to be awake. He squirms and wiggles and flops and tosses and moans and babbles for the next hour. I turn the monitor sound off because Zane has finally unlatched and fallen asleep. I also start googling on my phone and realize Cade’s recent really crummy sleep could be a result of the 18month sleep regression and not just adjusting to Zane. The sleep regression can last 6weeks. Nooooooooooo!

7am. If Brian is around in the morning, I send him in to get Cade while I try to get a few more minutes of sleep with Zane. If not, I pray fervently that Zane doesn’t wake up and I ninja crawl out of bed. Cade is awake and raring to go, stuffing pancake in his mouth, climbing on the couches, babbling and shrieking pretty much non stop. I fix myself a quick breakfast, check my phone while I eat, and then start doing all the things that need doing.
Contacts in.
Take Cade’s PJs off.
Go to the bathroom.
Wrestle Cade down for a diaper change.
Zane wakes up. Pick him up, put him on couch to change his diaper. He shrieks and cries. Put the pacifier in. He spits it out.
Cade runs over and attempts to climb onto the couch next to his brother holding his sippy cup by the straw between his teeth. He settles for trying to poke Zane’s eyeballs.
Zane is still crying. I’m attempting to get grainy bits of poo out of wrinkly little boy bits while preventing Cade from stepping on/kicking/hitting/poking his brother.
Diaper is finally changed. Now juggling Zane I take the dirty diaper somewhere out of reach of Cade.
Put Zane down briefly to put Cade’s boots on. He is now dressed in a shirt, a diaper, and John Deere boots.
Sit down on glider and start nursing Zane. Cade decides he wants a story and almost brains Zane with “The Little Blue Truck.”
I read upside down.
Cade somehow trips while standing perfectly still and hits his head on a toy.
Cade wails.
Zane yanks back in surprise and annoyance at the loud noise, taking my nipple with him.
I rub Cade’s head, tell him he’s ok, and start pointing at random toys to try and get him engaged.
He finds a crayon and wants me to remove the “friffle” (the paper wrapping).
I remove crayon friffles awkwardly and try not to bobble Zane.
Zane starts snorting and I realize I’ve smushed his nose into my breast.
Cade runs face first into the arm of the glider.
Then he falls off the couch.
Then he faceplants on the carpet.
I contemplate the probability of a growth spurt and wish he wasn’t obsessed with boots three sizes too big.
Zane is asleep, he unlatches and drools milk down the side of his mouth.

930 and I’m still in my pjs.
I put Zane down and run around like crazy to get dressed before he wakes up too much.
I trip over Cade.
I pick up Cade and snuggle, and sooth him with promises of outside.
I go into the bedroom to get dressed. Cade follows and shuts the door. Then happily throws the shoes around in the closet.
I find the nursing bra with the least amount of stains, pick out one of the three shirts I own with easy boob access, and trade my sweat pants for jeans.
Zane is thankfully still asleep, but beginning to wiggle.
I start putting the Moby wrap on.
Cade throws a tantrum. I’m not sure why.
I put Zane in the Moby and we head outside.


Outside I can breathe a little easier because Cade entertains himself better. I keep up a dialogue and hold the bits of leaves and twigs he hands me, but otherwise he provides his own entertainment. He scratches in the dirt behind the bushes, he draws on the sidewalk or brick walls with chalk, he pulls his red wagon down to the street and puts leaves and mulch in it. He abandons the wagon and heads across the field to the playground. *I love watching Cade play outside. He becomes utterly absorbed in whatever he’s doing, and plays games with rules I can’t untangle as he moves around dirt and rocks and bits of nature.*
Zane is happily asleep in the Moby.
Cade tries to play with an anthill.
Me: “NO Cade! Ants bite, ouch! We dont play with ants!” *drag Cade by hand away from anthill.* He starts crying and stamping his feet and brushing his arms. I crouch down and brush the ants away. Cade has several bites already, buh.
We get to the playground and Cade happily climbs around and goes down the slides on his own. I watch and cheer and keep an eye on Zane who refuses to have his head tucked into the Moby wrap so I keep it supported with one hand. He occassionally squeals and cries but a few good farts settles him back to sleep.

This is a glimpse in to our morning, and the rest of the day proceeds along similar lines. It’s a bit chaotic, there are a lot of diaper changes, I feel like I am chronically fixing a snack or a meal or a sippy cup or nursing, and naptime finds me sprawled out on the couch. Zane gets worn in the Moby a lot. Cade pitches fits more than usual, often for reasons I can’t detect. Once, he was eating his apple slices and he suddenly stood up, carefully placed his plate on the floor, walked to the kitchen entry way, and promptly laid down, kicked out his legs and started screaming…? The laundry piles up along with the dishes, I sporadically clean in bits and pieces, we some how manage to go grocery shopping or go to the park in Dothan, we have playdates…

To sum up, it’s a circus, and it’s wonderful. I love having two kids to try and juggle- it’s new and exciting and challenging-and I love not being pregnant, haha. I haven’t had my post partum check up yet, but everything seems to have healed wonderfully. I’m taking it easy with the exercise to allow my abs to reconnect and my joints and ligaments to tighten up again, but I at least get to do some! Brian is an excellent dad who spends  a lot of time getting things for me when my hands are full, but I fear the increase in noise is definitely trying his patience more than mine. We both have our moments of exasperation, and I am constantly searching for more ways to ease the adjustment for Cade, but I feel energetic and cheerful and I love being a family of four. πŸ™‚


One response »

  1. Thanks for the update πŸ™‚ I love imagining Cade “interacting” with Zane – we eldest children sure do put up with a lot….it’s only fair that we get a few smacks in early on, estalishes pecking order and all that rot πŸ˜‰ Glad to hear you are all doing well. We miss you. Little E has seamlessly added Cousin Zane to her understanding of who lives in AL πŸ™‚


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