Lessons learned

As soon as I get a little cocky, the universe does a calculation and a quick smack on the bum, and I am humbled.  I've learned a lot this week, which I'd like to chronicle here on my quasi-journal of a blog.

"Ambi" (or Bambi to those of us not 2-going-on-3 years old) can move the soul and the eyes to tears.  No matter that I've heard its strains twice a day for the last five days, every time I hear Bambi calling pathetically to his lost, and we know, dearly departed mother, it makes me want to cry.  "Mother! Mother!"  I've tried to get Little C hooked on another movie (anyone for Toy Story?) but its useless.  First thing I hear in the morning, "Mom, where's Ambi?"

No matter my previous stated good intentions previous to birthing #4, I am still the insane Nap Nazi.  I don't like being like this.  I wish I could embrace the whatever.  But, I'm a clock watcher.  I was in third grade and still am.  Right now, I know I have about 10 minutes before Baby Honey starts to stir and I will watch over, anxiously wondering if I should intercede with a pat or a shush to try and get him to the magical next phase of sleep that can last for hours.  It's exhausting being the Nap Nazi ... I could use a good nap.

In thirty minutes (my freetime alloted to me by my slumbering babe who only sleeps peacefully for 35) I can eat breakfast, read one blog, play 5 minutes with Little C and clear my dishes.  Or I can read.  Or type a blog entry (but not check it for missing or misspelled words)  Or I can fold a little laundry or pick up a room.  Or I can sew a little on the big boy blanket I'm making for C.  There's a whole list of what I can't do, but I'm trying really, really hard today to focus on the positive.

Babies who sleep in a closet during the day will nap a little better, but that might cause regression at night.  And the books that tell you a baby that can soothe themselves to sleep on their own will nap well and sleep through the night ... a bunch of baloney.  

Doing situps for the first time in a year will always cause day-after regrets in the form of sore back and forgotten ab muscles.

New life theme: Come what may and love it (Joseph B. Wirthlin said it here).  I'm thinking of cutting that out in vinyl and pasting it all over the house.  And tatooing it on my arm like Angelina Jolie.  

Okay, Ambi is ending and baby nap time is up ... I must run.