Sleepless Nights

Month: May 2009

  • Potty Training

    Dear Collective Power of the Internets,

    Potty training. What’s the deal with that?

    Now I wasn’t going to talk about potty training here, but I am so freaking sick of it.

    Amy will not poo in the potty or on the toilet. She’s dry all day with accidents being very rare. BUT, if she needs to poo, she will ask (scream, wail, cry) for a nappy so she can poo.

    I have no idea how to proceed. She understands everything we say, but flat down refuses to poo in anything other than a nappy.

    Things that haven’t worked so far:

    Bribes
    Stickers
    Reward charts
    Chocolate
    Growling
    Pleading
    Crying
    Ignoring
    Ice-cream
    More Bribes

    Things that have worked:

    Uh. Nothing. She has never pooed in a potty. Ever.

    So. You guys have a ton of collective knowledge between you. What worked for you?

    Note: If we refuse to put a nappy on her, she will just wail, scream and cry and then not poo at all. At least, not until we put her in a nappy for bedtime. I’m not prepared to have her just in knickers overnight because she wets the bed between 2-4am and seriously, we’re not getting enough sleep as it is without adding in wetting the bed stress. She is not constipated, she is just stubborn.

    Sigh.

  • Annoying Shit

    I’m losing weight, yet my stretchmarks are getting bigger. The ones behind my knees are shocking. Thank god I can’t see them.

    Having sex makes my hips hurt like a mo’fo. Not having sex makes my head want to explode just a little.

    My skin tears. In uh, intimate places. Let me tell you, that’s just a shitload of fun right there. Can’t have sex cos of my hips, can’t masturbate because of my skin. Anyone know how to make dirty dreams happen? What I wouldn’t give to be 14 again and able to orgasm through my jeans with just some heavy pashing.

    Putting on a support bandage in order to stop my knee dislocating again, only to dislocate my wrist in the process. Then having my OTHER knee sublux.

    Do you think, if I asked nicely enough, I could trade this body in for a newer model?

    ***

    Also, Tiff’s daughter Immy is in hopsital with bad facial cellulitis. If you could head over and give her a hug or something, I would greatly appreciate it. She hasn’t gotten a post up about it, but you can find her on Twitter if you like.

  • Ehlers Danlos Awareness Month

    It’s EDS awareness month, which I am doubting is taken seriously enough in Australia. Goodness knows that doctors everywhere seem to be hideously undereducated about EDS.

    We are not freaks. Not all of us can contort ourselves into a tiny little package, nor does ‘skin involvement’ necessarily mean that we can stretch our skin great amounts. My skin involvement is simply a bunch of stretchmarks showing up for no reason at all and getting worse, despite me not gaining any weight, the worst of them are at the back of my knees. I injure easily, take forever to heal and my scars stay purple for ages, before turning silver and widening/raising (there is a medical word here that I have forgotten). Also, you can generally find bruises all over me, even if I haven’t done anything to myself. My most recent ones were on the back of my hand (seriously, wtf?) and an orange sized one on the back of my calf. I’m also stretchy in my skin, but with everything else, it seems like nothing much. Sigh

    Most of us don’t even realise we are different when our fingers bend back further and our elbows hyper-extend. I showed my brother a photo album of EDS photos the other day, only to have him reply ‘What’s so special about that? And that? And that one?’ Well nothing, IF YOU HAVE EDS. If you don’t, you’re left looking at the flexi people and thinking, ‘that looks like it hurts.’

    I think one of the most common misconceptions about EDS is that our dislocations don’t hurt. Unfortunately, our dislocations DO hurt just as much as a sport/injury induced dislocation that you might have suffered. Even more unfortunately, our dislocations happen more easily and more often that normal people. It’s just the way it goes.

    There is a huge range of abilities within the same EDS spectrum. Some people are only very mildly affected, while others may experience worse symptoms and be unable to do everyday things.

    I suppose that it makes sense that I am having a crash* in the middle of EDS awareness month. What better way to make everyone aware than feeling like shit for a while? Not a very pleasant way, unfortunately.

    Oh well. I do know that a bunch of Tasmanian doctors are getting a crash course in EDS management simply because of my diagnosis. Like BendyGirl said, if me getting a diagnosis helps just one other person going through what I’m going through, then it’s worth it. It sucks, but it sucks more to be told it’s all in your head.

    Video via BendyGirl.

    To find out more about EDS and HMS (Hypermobility Syndrome), you can visit here or here.

    *A crash generally happens when I’ve been pushing myself too hard. Getting over one pre children used to leave me in bed for a week, just sleeping and resting. Post children is a slightly different matter, as bed rest is something hard to come by. I reckon this crash is just caused by 4+ months of sleepless nights catching up with me (late pregnancy is not conducive to sleeping through the night any more than having a newborn baby) and keeping the household running/fed/clean(ish).

  • Just Asking

    A few quick polls. Only, without the easy clicky poll thing because well, I’ve never done one and I can’t be bothered.

    ONE:

    Who is going to win, a 6 week old kitten or my mice?

    Yes, I am adding to my insanity and getting a kitten. Or two. Shush in the back there.

    What I want to know is, do you think I can teach a kitten to catch mice, before the mice overrun it, tie it up with string, carry it into the roof cavity and roll it in butter and pastry?

    (No, I don’t know the sex of the kitten/s. They were found abandoned and have been offered on Freecycle. I may possibly have a soft spot for small abandoned animals that need loving. A big soft spot. Again, shush in the back.)

    TWO:

    In a fight between me and Amy’s hair, who should come out the winner?

    I’m asking because I managed to dislocate my thumb joint (near the wrist) brushing Amy’s hair. I’m not sure if this means Amy’s hair is the master of getting matted and horrible, or my joints suck.

    Probably both.

    THREE:

    There is no three. It just seemed stupid to only have two.

  • Sleep. Again.

    Dear Isaac,

    Gosh we’re getting to spend some quality time together lately. There is no doubt about the fact that I find you simply delicious and could kiss you all day.

    However.

    If you’re smiling and not sleeping at 4am, then I’m probably not in the right mood to appreciate your deliciousness. If you are still smiling and not sleeping 2.5 hours later at 6.30am, then I’m really in no mood for baby softness.

    You know what happens shortly after 6.30? Your sister wakes up.

    And sure, I could sleep while she plays in our child-proof house (child-proof in the sense that nothing can kill her. Not in the sense that she can kill nothing), but last time I did that things went terribly horribly badly wrong. So wrong in fact that I haven’t blogged about it yet because it was that bad.

    (And because I’m hoping that Canon might just cover my camera, despite what Amy did to it being non-warranty covered damage. It may have involved my precious love of my life camera, a bored 2yo, a mother who fell asleep breastfeeding, a container and some water. It. Was. Bad.)

    So baby boy, it’s now 11.26pm and on a regular night, you would have been asleep 3 hours ago. Funny how kids like to save up all their sleeplessness in order to wear down their parents. If you weren’t such a sunny child, I would suspect that you and Amy are plotting together.

    Instead of being asleep properly though, you are cat napping. I know I have said this before, but cat naps are for cats. Not for babies. Stop it.

    Waking up 20 minutes after you fall asleep screaming like a banshee is not good for me sweetheart. It makes Mummy tired. When Mummy gets too tired Mummy can’t sleep because Mummy vomits all night. Which in turn makes everything worse.

    Worse than that though? If I get too tired, I cannot play fun games like aeroplanes, or bouncing, or tickle the baby, because I am just too tired. Then you get bored and you cry and I cry and it’s just a vicious cycle.

    So really, wouldn’t it be easier to just fall asleep already for me? Like, right now?

    Please?

    I love you, even when you don’t sleep.

    -Mummy.

    ***

    We’re both snuggled up in bed together at the moment. I’m playing on my laptop and Isaac is next to me in his three sided cot looking at the wall, playing with his hands and making noises. Sleep? Hahahaha.

    Maybe later.

    I think it’s The Revolution all over again. Sleep is for the weak.