I have been actively resisting blogging. To be sure, there are things I have wanted to write about. Patrick and Audrey deserve updates. I sent myself an email (or several) to remind myself of cute things Patrick says. Another one, which I haven't yet documented, is vocation instead of vacation. And Audrey, being nearly 1, discovers something new and adorable nearly every day.
But -- and I think this is a result of my successful NaBloPoMo -- I dread logging in and writing. I am doing it tonight in an effort to get back to it. I LIKE looking back at things I've written. I SHOULD force myself to do it. But perhaps not every day.
Audrey has recently (like two weeks ago recently) decided that she can, in fact, fall asleep by herself, in her crib, and stay that way for at least 5 hours. I suspect that by this point she is supposed to be sleeping through the night, and I further suspect that her brother was doing just that, but for the baby who screamed for 75 minutes straight -- NO THANK YOU, MOTHER, I WILL NOT CRY IT OUT -- this is huge progress. It leaves me with time to do things. Time and two hands. Of course, I miss her curled up against me. No winning in parenthood. Sigh.
Patrick has reached a difficult point in his life where he is starting to realize that his 'friends' (the older neighborhood boys he idolizes) might not be his friends and they are mean and they don't necessarily want to play with him. It is heartbreaking and makes me want to throttle one of them in particular. I mean, I GET that you don't want to play with the annoying 4-year-old who asks you please, guys, not to jump so high on the trampoline because he's scared, but he's 4! You don't have to be MEAN about it, you little shit. Just tell him you can't play, or your mom is making you eat dinner or something. FUCKER. I have no idea how to handle this; I want him to go play outside rather than play video games inside, but I don't want him to go be rejected again. He sits pitifully at the end of the driveway and waits for someone to play with him. It is horrible. He doesn't want to play with the friends I suggest. He doesn't want to play with me. He doesn't want to make cookies. Or walk. I know this is life, but do you have to start experiencing it at 4? You have the rest of your life for that.
As for me, I have sort of found my groove staying at home. Sort of. The dishes are usually washed before I go to bed. The laundry is done, if not put away. There's usually a hot dinner on the table by 6 pm. I love not having to work. I love being at home with the kids. They drive me nuts some days but on the whole it's so much better than work. The one part where I really feel like I'm failing is getting Patrick to learn. We practice writing his name and learning his letters and whatnot. He loves the letter H. He can (mostly) count to 100 and he can recognize all the numbers. We try (and fail) to color inside the lines. I try to do crafty things. We read, although not enough. But he doesn't really like any of that, and I'm so scared of him being like me and hating every single second of school that I don't push it. We have one more year before he officially starts school; I think we will send him to a half-day program but that is TBD.
This has not turned out to be too terrible unless you were actually looking to be entertained. I have been Debbie Downer here for the most part and it is so boring unless you're me. Perhaps I will discuss the plans for Audrey's first birthday party the next time I get on here. HA.