Tuesday, August 30, 2011

I Let Papa Go

Wolfie's first grade orientation was tonight.  We realized yesterday that this is for parents only.  Oh, right, no kids allowed.  I don't know what Gabe or I pictured.  The two of us sitting closely side by side with our three children on our laps; a pyramid of attentiveness as Wolfie's first grade talked about curriculum?  It was too late to find a babysitter.

You'd think I'd be all over this first grade orientation night, being a teacher myself and all.  Yes!  I was excited about this.  School, it's my thing.

But this week I realized that in my marriage, my partnership, I'm a leg up on the school thing.

For instance, when Wolfie told us at dinner this week that all the kids in his class have cards and his was green at the end of the day (but one classmate's was yellow) I immediately knew it was the green, yellow, red behavior model.  Everyone starts off green, but if someone gets a warning for a poor choice, that child is to change his or her card to yellow.  Another infraction - it's red for you kiddo and if you look right over there, there is a visual reminder.  Let's do better tomorrow.  I learned about this technique in college, used a variation of it myself.  Gabe, however, was fascinated.  "What is this?  How does it work?" and I was struck by how even though all of this parenting a child in school (newborn babies, Gabe and I have it down) is new to us both, it is just a bit newer to my husband.

I said, "Gabe, do you want to go to Orientation?" 
"I just assumed you would go; it's your thing."
"Uh huh.  But do you want to go?"

Papa went to orientation.  And now I need to wrap up this post because my husband just asked me if we could go over the papers he received tonight.  Apparently some handbook and other papers we need to sign.  He's a leg up on me.

Sometimes you have to let someone else have something in order to be even.  It's only fair.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

It's the little things.

I clipped Luna's fingernails with the regular nail clipper.  It wasn't too big. 

I always use the baby clipper on her.  The baby nail clipper, the one I received 6 1/2 years ago at my first baby shower which came in a kit including a baby brush, comb, and baby toothbrush, was in the other room so I just used the regular nail clipper.  It made me sad that she didn't really require the baby sized clipper. 

I mean, I'm definitely going to use the baby one on her next time.  For sure.  It was just by accident that I used the regular sized one today. 

Then I clipped Wolfie's nails and toes.  I reached his baby toe and noticed that this was the littlest thing on his bigger boy self.  I found such joy in that little baby toe.

I kissed it.  I said, "Your baby toe is so little and sweet."

Wolfie looked at me like I was weird.  Get used to it, buddy.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

I've Done This

I have tucked my children into bed on a Friday night and then promptly passed out while wearing my work clothes - bra, belt, socks, the whole outfit minus shoes.

The above explains why my Friday Feature is one day late.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

First Day

Today was Wolfie's first day of first grade.  That means he got on the bus this morning and stayed at school ALL DAY.

Today was my first day of work with students.  That means I went to work, attended a meeting, greeted students in the hall as they arrived, helped a few kids open their lockers, then had a break because I have prep time for the first two periods.  It happens that I "forgot" something really important at home, so I was able to scoot home real quick.  It's a 7 minute drive from my driveway to the parking lot and vice versa.

Guess what was going on when I pulled up in my driveway?  Gabe and the girls were getting ready to see Wolfie off on his first day of school.  What luck!  And he gets home after I do so I'll be able to greet him as he gets off the bus every day.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Returning to Work

So...I went back to work today.  All week, and all day yesterday, and especially all of yesterday evening, I labored over what to write.  How could I put into words what I was feeling now that summer vacation - i.e. my time as a stay-at-home mom - was coming to an end.  I just couldn't write about it.  I mean, it stinks.  Well, that's kind of harsh.  But it definitely feels like someone just pulled the drain plug out of the summer vacation swimming pool.

I still don't know what to say about how it feels.  I mean, it just stinks.  And I'm afraid to write this because I fantasize that someday I'll have a million followers on my blog and this post will be read by people I work with or, worse yet, my boss.  I'm afraid that they will think, "Oh, June doesn't like to work here.  She'd rather be home with her kids."  Well, yeah, I'd rather be home with my kids but that doesn't mean that I don't like where I work.  And it definitely doesn't mean that although I love being a mother above all, that I'm not a good teacher.  Because I am a good teacher.  I'm dedicated to my students.

Oh, that must mean you can turn off your mom-mode when you go to work and turn off your work-mode when you get home, you must be thinking.  Well, no.  I think about my kids while I'm at work and sometimes share stories about them with my students.  I'm open and real with those kids I teach and many of them have younger siblings and this is how we relate.  Remember when I said I'm a good teacher?  That's because I'm particularly good at building relationships with my students because I can find stuff to relate to with them.  And, although I generally only think about my children while I'm with my children playing with, mothering, and cuddling with my children, I often think about my students while I'm at home.  Some other mother's troubled child sometimes keeps me awake.  And that's okay because I know my children's teachers will do the same if the occasion were arise.  And if my own children needed my worry, that's okay to because I always have some breathing time in the morning at school to think about who in that building needs my care especially that day.

So instead of writing about how it feels to end my summer vacation with my kids because that part is a little painful, I'll write about what happened.

My Tulip has been waking me up at 6:15 every morning of summer vacation.  Sometimes 6:10.  Sometimes 5:55.  The others follow her soon after.  This morning, I got up at 6:00 and did some yoga, by myself, while my kids slept later than usual.  But Tulip had gotten up to go pee at about 5:50.  She went back in her room.  I could kind of see her playing with her stuffed animals in bed when I peeked in the crack of her bedroom door.  She had stayed in her room and came out later.

It's like she knew.

When Luna woke up, she crawled into my lap and said, "I.  Love.  Mama."  I left for work and hugged and kissed everyone goodbye.  Luna, my baby, wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me long and tight.  She wasn't clinging.  She was giving me the hug I needed.  She let go and said, "Bye-bye Mama."

It's like she knew.

I missed them terribly all morning at my meetings.  I felt that pang in my chest and that fullness creep into my breasts and I thought, "Well, it must be 1:00.  Luna's getting sleepy and wants some milk."  I checked the clock and it was 1:05.

It's like I knew.  Of course I did.  Because above all, I am a Mama.  And now, again, I get to be a teacher too.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Milking it

This post is not about milk.

This afternoon, a rare thing occurred in our house.  Wolfie threw a toy at Tulip's face.

I'm not being sarcastic here.  Yes, of course our children throw things at each other, as all children do, but we've done a pretty good job teaching them what toys can be thrown in the house.  There is a very, very short list of toys that can be thrown at sisters.  They are the six soft jingly blocks, the soft football, and...uh, I guess that's it.

I don't know what game they were playing - I mean, other than that game where you throw toys at each other - but Wolfie threw a wooden food toy at Tulip and it hit her in the face right next to her eye and left a tiny welt.  This, is unprecedented.  Seriously.  Again, no sarcasm.  This was a big deal.

So we dealt with it, then shortly got everybody ready to go to Central Park downtown in Valparaiso because that is suddenly the best place to be.  Today was a Taste of Valpo festival and for $5 your kids could get a wristband and jump on inflatable things all day.

Luna can really hold her own in those bounce houses.  For her, the biggest challenge is sometimes climbing up that ramp to get in the bounce house.  Two of the inflatable things had ladders and slides and we wondered if she could do the ladders on her own.

Of course she can.

But to play it safe, we asked Wolfie (or maybe he volunteered) to be Luna's "partner" to see if she could climb up the ladder herself.  After she proved that she could, Wolfie apparently had something to prove as well.  He continued to hold Luna's hand and lead her from bounce house to bounce house (there were four).  He was the model big brother.  Another two-year old friend really wanted to go in one of the inflatables so we hooked him up with Wolfie too.  I told him that he was being such a super big brother and for a moment I thought that he had just jumped this huge maturity milestone.  But then Gabe leaned in and whispered, "I think he's trying to prove that he's a good big brother" and I remembered the wooden food thing. 

Yeah. So.  We decided to milk it.  He watched over his younger sister for, like, 30 minutes!  Do you know what this means.  Gabe and I were free - FREE - to talk to other grown-ups uninterrupted.  It was awesome.

Wolfie finally asked me if I could watch Luna so he could go in a bounce house himself.  Oh, that boy!  He really is that sweet.  He didn't need to prove anything.  But, sometimes a mama and a papa do need to be able to just chill with other mamas and papas.

Second story of the day.
We went out to eat in between bounce housing.  At the restaurant I had to take the girls to the bathroom just before the food arrived and then again just after the food arrived.  Of course you did, all of you seasoned mamas are snickering.  That's the way it goes with kids in restaurants.  Yeah, yeah, I know.  But, I figured out how to milk it.  I ordered ribs.  RIBS?!  I can't even think of the last time I ordered ribs in a restaurant with children.  That's like ordering to be hand-tied.  Plus, by the time I finally sat down to eat my ribs everyone else but the baby was nearly finished.  Again with the snickers - I know, I know.  But then, I was all, "Mama can't do that for you.  My hands are covered with barbeque sauce." and "I can't do that for you.  I'm eating ribs."  And pretty soon Papa was saying, "Let Mama eat her ribs."  and his hands were all over the baby's plate and she quite enjoyed ordering her Papa to butter her yet another cracker.  Was I that incompetent to parent my children because of some sticky fingers of my own.  No.  But sometimes a mama just has to enjoy her own sticky fingers.

Friday, August 19, 2011

I've Done This

I've let my children eat food that has fallen on the floor.

I suppose I should write that in the present tense, as it occurs with frequency.  I let my kids eat food that falls on the floor.  If my child was to drop a piece of food on your floor and you were to say, "Hey, three second rule!", my child would look at you with a blank expression.  Haven't introduced that phrase.  It's more of a pick it up and eat it now, later, whatever.

Of course there is the exception - we don't eat food that has fallen on public bathroom floors, I'm sure of it.  However, I cannot even picture a time when I was in a public bathroom with my children and they were eating.  Huh.  I guess I don't have to worry about that much.  Oh, and under the table of a restaurant if the floor is really gross.  It's hit or miss, but I guess I strive to teach my children to leave it be.

C'mom folks.  What's your food on the floor rule?

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Naked Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tues....

There is NO nudity in this film.

I shot this quick little film when I saw Luna chasing a butterfly.  We had just returned from the Central Park Plaza splash pad.  While this video captures Luna delighting in the butterfly, you can clearly hear Tulip ask if she can be naked.  Luna followed suit and got "nakin" once inside.  Yes, my children enjoy being naked.  With all the swimming and bathing and general heat of summer, who can blame them for skipping that extra step of getting dressed once getting undressed.

At my house, you will commonly overhear my husband and I say things such as:
"It's time for dinner - put on some underpants."
"Put some clothes on if you are playing in the front yard."  I mean, we have some parameters.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Mary Glover

Wolfgang called me Mary Glover.

I am June Saavedra or, more simply, Mama.

He was engrossed in a book, spoke over his shoulder towards me and said, "Mary Glover, look at this picture.  It's blabbety blabbah blah..."  Well of course whatever he told me about the picture was very insightful and he spoke many elaborative sentences about it - as is his way.  But I was stunned somewhat by the casual and comfortable way he called me Mary Glover.  I mean, there was no snicker.  And this isn't even a reference to a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g in our lives.  It was no joke.

I responded, initially, to his observation of the picture in the book and then said, "Hey, Wolfie.  Did you just call me Mary Glover?"

He was momentarily sheepish about it and then cracked up, with me, at how funny it would be to call me Mary Glover.

Okay.  Do this.  Picture me (it helps if you know me personally).  Once you have an image of me in your head, say "Mary Glover".  Hysterical, right?

I asked him who Mary Glover was and for the first time in his life he was speechless.  Overcome with giggles, and speechless.

I am speechless too.  Who is Mary Glover?!?!?!?

Sunday, August 14, 2011

The Power of Three

When I had my first child, I hovered and wiped and wiped and wiped.  Prior to his interaction with any surface, I wiped it.  I was one step ahead of him, wiping all surfaces, leaving a completely sanitized environment in my wake.  I had one of those shopping cart cover thingies.  I had one for high-chairs too.  And in the rare instance where I entered a store and 1) did not have my shopping cart cover and 2) forgot a baby sling, I was quite skilled at holding the baby in one arm while deftly fishing a wipe container out of the diaper bag, opening it, removing a wipe and thoroughly wiping down the entire front end of the shopping cart with the other hand. 

By the time I had a second child, I loosened up regarding germs.  Now that I have a third child, germs are an afterthought.  "Oh, maybe I should have wiped off that crusty thing before I let the baby lick it...Oh well.  It'll build up her immune system."

This afternoon, we went to a concert in downtown Valparaiso and Luna found another two-year old and a friendship was born.  This family also has three children aged 6, 2 and 6 months.  Luna loves babies so the mom brought him down to her level.  I'm trying to teach Luna a "baby rule" which is to not touch a baby's face.  I know that she'll be gentle; this rule is more to ease a first time mother's stress about germs.  For some reason, toddlers are viewed as being germballs and when it comes to reaching out to touch another baby, the toddler's reflexes are too quick for either mother to get a good antibacterial wiping in before contact.  So part of the rule is I tell Luna that she can touch the baby's hand or foot and secretly feel out the mother's reaction to this.  Some mother's tense up, "Eek, I don't want that sticky handed toddler touching any part of my baby..." so I will adjust my directions.  Mostly, though, I just put that out there and hope that the other mother will be able to deal, since, you know, now that I have three kids I can totally deal with germs.

So while I was giving Luna the directions, she was sucking on her entire right hand.  She pulled it out of her mouth and there was that signature string of slobber bowing from her pinky to her bottom lip.  I quickly said, "Okay, but don't touch the baby with this hand..." and the other mom laughed.  She said, "Oh, I don't care.  It's my third baby - were not afraid of anything."

I loved her!

This was so refreshing.  I laughed too and said, "This morning I found Luna brushing her teeth with Tulip's toothbrush and I was like....Hurray, you're brushing your teeth!"

Friday, August 12, 2011

I've Done This

I've licked my newborn babys hair.

Yes, it's true.  Those of you who knew Wolfie when he was born, will remember that full, thick, lush head of hair he was born with.  And those of you who have also given birth to babies with a full head of hair know how soft and silky it is.

So, I was smelling him, and rubbing his soft hair against my cheek, my chin, my lips....and went for the lick.  Just like a, oh I don't know, mama giraffe or something.

I've licked my baby's hair and so have you.  Or something similar, right?

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Parenting on Display

When we go to public places where families go, such as Target, the grocery store, the playground, the...ahem...county fair, there is a lot of family action.  We see all sorts of parenting styles, discipline models, and general child management.  We can clearly establish which families use methods with names.  There's the Time Out, the 1,2,3, the Threats, the Bribes.  There are the tantrum throwers and yellers...and their kids.  (couldn't resist)

I wonder if parents kick up their discipline methods a notch when in these public places.  I mean, it's like the age old philosophical question "If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a noise?"  My philosophical question is, "If there are no other parents around, does the mother still implement the discipline at the same level of intensity?"

My children mostly behave wonderfully and are a dream to take to public places.  It's true.  I don't have the feeling of dread going to Target with three kids as other mothers may experience with their brood or singlets.  But I have often been in Target and have noticed mothers disciplining their children kind of extra loud.  With a look cast my way.  Is it just me?  I feel like sometimes parents are quick to discipline their children, and with more severe intensity, than is necessary while in a public place for the sake of other people. 

It's as if parents want to display their discipline method.  I'll hear, "If you do that again you're going in time out." as if I'm supposed to think, "Ooooh, she uses time out."  Or I'll hear, "ONE......twoooooooo...................." and I'm supposed to think, "Oh, how great.  She didn't even have to get to three.  Her system totally works."

I'm not criticizing any moms or dads or methods here.  I'm simply questioning the gusto in which it's being used in public places.  This phenomenon coupled with the verbal or mouthed "I'm sorry" a mom directs towards me in Target as her child cries wants to make me shout, "Sorry for what?!  So what?!  Your kid is crying.  No one is judging you because, guess what, kids cry in stores all the time."

Is that it?  Are we afraid of being judged by how loudly or badly our children behave so while in public we are so quick to put our parenting skills to work.  On display?

Here's the scenario: my children and I, and two other moms and their children were all at the playground at the same time.  One sibling, under two maybe, was playing with a ball and his brother, 3ish maybe, swooped over and snatched the ball out of his hands.  Crime of the century?  Maybe in that household.  Mom immediately jumped into the Time Out and 1,2,3 combo because her son didn't get himself over to the time out tree fast enough. 

I thought, if there were no other mothers at the park, would this have been his consequence?  Or would it have been more of a dialogue.

I'm going to pay more attention to how I discipline my kids in public places.  I'm going to consciously make sure that my actions are for my children and not for other moms.  Because, really, the last thing I am ever going to do is tell someone else I'm sorry for my children.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

can you hear it?

When we had Wolfie, we lived in Chicago.  Logan Square, on the square.  I often said I could shoot a rubber band and hit the monument from our rooftop deck.  City living is noisy.  There is constant ambient noise.  Mostly street traffic.  But living spaces in the city are small and there is a lot of noise inside too.  Loud furnaces.  You can hear your neighbors.  Everyone plays their music loud to drown out everyone else's music.

We lived in a 4 room condo.  The furnace was smack in the middle of the place.  No matter where I was, if the baby was in another room there was ambient noise interference.  And no matter where I was, I thought I could hear the baby crying.  But he would not be.  It was almost always the furnace.  Or the exhaust fan in the bathroom.  Or just the sound of the shower.  I thought I heard the baby crying when he wasn't crying at all...just a few feet away.

Do you know what I'm talking about?  Maybe there is a term for it.

How many times did I turn off the shower, crane my ear toward to open bathroom door to hear...nothing.  Nope.  That wasn't the baby crying after all.

This phenomenon continues.

This afternoon the girls were napping.  The boys are gone (riding trains in Chicago, ironically).  I sat outside.  It was gorgeous today, right?  And breezy.  And you know I ran inside three times thinking I heard crying.  Each time I looked in the girls bedroom and found them sound asleep.  Not even stirring.  Making no noise but I swore I heard my baby crying.  My 2 and 4 year old baby girls that are completely capable of getting out of their beds to come find me if there was a problem.  Maybe the wind carried some other baby noises to my backyard.  Maybe it's some ear trick that happens to very tired mothers.

Maybe I just miss them.

Saturday, August 6, 2011


The first time Wolfie played soccer was the spring co-ed soccer league when he was four, Tulip was almost two and Luna was still in my belly.  We were a tight little bundle of a family.  Even though Luna had emerged by the time all the soccer families reunited after summer vacation for the back-to-school soccer season, she was still tightly strapped to me in a baby wrap and Tulip was pretty content to share my lap with her.  Same tight bundle of a family of five.

Today was our 6th soccer season and I'm proud to announce we have two soccer players in the family.  Tulip's first game was at 9:00 this morning and she was awesome.  This was a first for her...and for us, her parents.  And in the traditions of firsts, I noticed a few more.

1.  Wolfie went over to the playground by himself
2.  Tulip was running and kicking a soccer ball.  In an actual soccer game.  I mean, she was wearing official shin guards.
3.  Luna initiated a game of catch with another younger sibling and this was a first because she was doing this in underpants

My tight little bundle of a family has gotten looser over the past six seasons.  Exercising their growing independence and it felt...um...okay.  I can't come right out and say if felt good because I want them to orbit me.  But, it was very bittersweet that my four year old soccer player is no longer my first born son, who is now so big he can go over to the playground by himself.  (He came back pretty soon after - I think the adventure for him was the actual going over there by himself).  Bittersweet, too, that my new four year old soccer player is Tulip.  She's four!  And just jumped right into the soccer game without looking back for reassurance!  She looked back with that happy proud I'm-waving-at-you-wave-back-at-me smile, though.  Bittersweet that my baby is less and less of a baby in her big girl underpants and her ever increasing vocabulary. "I play catch that girl."  "I want to go to castle too."

So it was a good morning.  It was a morning that made me really feel like a parent.  And I guess that does feel really good.  Okay?

Friday, August 5, 2011

I've Done This

I have used a baby wipe to freshen up my armpits.

Sometimes, even though a shower is necessary, it is not feasible.  In those instances where you need to make a mad dash out the door, I recommend using a baby wipe (or wipes) to get the job done quickly and effectively.

Mamas, I know you've done this too.  And Papas - this totally sounds like something you've done or will do, right?

Happy Friday everyone!

Thursday, August 4, 2011

bfing is awesome

I am a breastfeeding mama and so proud of it.  Not that I think I am a better mama than those who do not breastfeed, I am just, literally, proud of myself for doing it.

I am still nursing Luna at 26 months which means that I have breastfed my children for a total of 60 months of my life; that's 5 years (and counting)...

This is why breastfeeding is awesome (for me, at least, and in my opinion):

The Bond
Oh, who knew.  The first time I breastfed a child it was overwhelming.  In a good way.  No, in an awesome way.  Yes, the hormones are largely to credit for this but there are so many other factors.  Wolfie's sweet little fluttering eyelashes.  The sound of contently suckling.  Knowing that I was meeting my newborn's three simple needs: "They are warmth in the arms of its mother, food from her breasts, and security in the knowledge of her presence. Breatfeeding satisfies all three." Grantly Dick-Reed

The Accomplishment
Breastfeeding a baby makes me feel like a super hero.  It's as simple as that.  I have a super power - my body makes milk.

The Coolness Factor
It is simply cool to breastfeed a baby.  Anytime, anyplace.  My breasts could have been used to sell beer or cars but instead I chose to use them to provide food for my children.  How cool is that?

Okay, here's where the childbirth educator in me comes out.  There are so many awesome benefits to feeding your baby your breast milk.  First, you are making exactly the right food for your baby no matter what age/developmental stage/need.  Your body adapts to the baby's dietary needs.  Awesome, right?  Second, let's say Luna is getting sick.  She's getting a cold.  Her body produces antigens which are present in her saliva.  She nurses and those antigens enter my bloodstream via my porous skin.  My body immediately begins to make antibodies for the breast milk so the next time Luna nurses she will receive antibodies.  That's right - in addition to the super power of making milk, I also make medicine.

Happy World Breastfeeding Week!  I am one privileged mama to have (and still) experienced this wonderful gift and bond with my children.

Monday, August 1, 2011

AP Fail

Attachment parenting is something I believe in and try to practice.  I have given birth three times in a joyful participatory drug-free manner, carried my babies in slings and wraps close to my heart, have breastfed each baby for as long as they desired (still am), and am dedicated and connected to who they are and what they like and need and how they feel and so on.

And I have co-slept.  There is a difference between co-sleeping and bedsharing.  Though they shared their own room consisting of their own beds, the children have always been welcome in our bed.  In fact, our bed is a mattress on the floor in order to be more accessible for toddlers in the middle of the night.  Yes, this was a conscious parenting decision - "Let's just put our new mattress on the floor.  It'll be easier for the babies to crawl into bed with us" one of us said while the other spouse simultaneously nodded in agreement.

The summer vacation ritual has been that Tulip is the first to awake.  She crawls into bed with me and gets in "her spot".  Wolfie wakes soon after and nestles into "his spot".  Luna had been in a crib until recently.  Now she is in a bed of her own which means she is free to roam.

Now things have shifted.  You see, there is only one mama.  And mama only has two sides.

This morning Luna visited me at about 4:00, nursed and stayed.  I love it.  Tulip found me and took the other available spot, Wolfie's spot.  When Wolfie arrived, he stood at the foot of the bed and began negotiations.  Among the three I sensed mounting tension and saw lips jutting forward, quivering, heard strain in their voices as they communicated their desires knowing someone was going to get a bad deal.

Oh, and it was 6:15.  Why, oh why, won't my kids sleep in.  It's summer vacation for goodness sakes.  I do not like a few things.  1) Not getting enough sleep; 2) Being cajoled out of bed with pulls on the arm or the dreaded whip-off-the-blanket; 3) Being urged, verbally, to get out of bed now, get out of bed now, get out of bed now by a small person at the side of my bed where, when I am good and ready to get out of bed, would like to swing my feet.  By myself.

I want to get out of bed alone.  I mean, even if there is a sleeping little person there, I could still get up when I am ready, and physically get up on my own without any...ahem...assistance.

Gabe sleeps though all of this nonsense, by the way.

So here is my solution this morning.  I tell the girls that they had a turn to snuggle me all to themselves and it is Wolfie's turn.  I tell the girls that they can play in their room for a little while (I mean, why don't they just do this when they wake up anyway?) and Wolfie is going to snuggle me for a little while.  The girls get out of bed; Wolfie gleefully, triumphantly jumps into bed.

But.  The girls stay in my room.  In fact, they stay right by the bed resisting the urge to do numbers 2 and 3 mentioned above.

Then.  Luna, who is two and doesn't really understand compromise (or probably does because two year-olds are smarter than we give them credit for; so smart in fact, that they can rely on the fact that we all assume they do not understand something like compromise and then get exactly what they want) and crawls right back into her spot.  Uh huh.  She did.  Tulip looks at the three of us, crushed.  She says, simply, "Luna got back in bed with you."

I tell Tulip that I have a new spot for her...right on top of me.  Tulip = supreme victor.  Wolfie gets it and so does Luna, because she's two and knows exactly what she just did.

Then I tell them that they can go watch a show because, here I will shamelessly quote myself, "Mama needs to sleep by myself for a few minutes and get up on my own."  I tell Wolfie they can watch a Fishtronaut and I'll get up soon (21 minutes, I know this).

Yes.  I substituted Netflix for myself.  Why?  Because Wolfie totally learned how to do the whole thing - he can turn on the TV and use the Wii controller to select and play shows.

Oh, and because when Mama gets to wake up on her own, by herself, she is a much, much happier mama.  And happier, well-rested mamas make for better attachment parenting mamas.

Or, is it the other way around?