After six nights of sleeping at least seven hours straight, Cooper reverted to sleeping 3-4 hours at a time. It's funny how quickly your body adapts. At first, we couldn't sleep more than five hours without waking up. After a couple of nights, we were fully enjoying our sleep. So, when he went back to his short nights, it was very frustrating.
Three nights later, however, Cooper gave us a late Christmas present. He began to sleep not seven, not eight, but nine hours at a time! Cue the angels and bring me a trumpet! It's only been two nights now, but I'll take it.
On the flip side, Savannah has another cold. We've asked her several times if she feels "sinusy." So she has adopted that term and diagnosed herself with a "bad sinusy infection."
A few other recent Savannah gems:
I was aggravating her one day last week, being obfuscatory about something she was asking me. After a couple of attempts to get a serious answer out of me, she turned to her mother with complete exasperation and said, "could you talk to him, please?" Kelli and I were so cracked up by the seriousness of her tone, that we completely forgot what she was asking.
As she was putting on her pajamas (or janamas, in Savvanese) one night, she accidentally put the pants on backward. We pointed this out to her. To her, the solution was simple -- just spin them around. (Her blonde roots run very deep.) We explained to her the error of her idea. Being me, I couldn't leave it alone. I I started to say "if you only had one leg, that might work." All I got out was, "if you only had one leg." Without missing a beat, she finished the sentence, "I'd walk really funny."
Monday, January 30, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Driving Me to Drink
I joined my dear friend Shea for cheap beers at Wings tonight. Shea's going through a rough divorce after 14 years, so he needed a drink. Me, I'm happily married, I should be able to have a brew for no reason at all. But this week has been different. We're still sleeping through the night -- for the most part -- so that's not a problem. But Savannah has been somewhat of a challenge this week.
At her school they have a color system for behavior. If your kid doesn't make any trouble, they stay on Green. If they murder the teacher and place her head on a pike to frighten away villagers from neighboring tribes, their color is changed to Red. For three days straight, Savvi has been on Yellow. That places her somewhere in the "future leader of a rebellion against the galactic empire, whether evil or no" category.
She mainly gets in trouble for laughing and playing during nap time. We let it slide the first day. Inspired by our church, we call that "granting her grace." The second day she got a good talking to and a strategy for preventing trouble. My brilliant close-your-eyes-and-turn-your-back-on-the-instigators plan didn't work at all. Yellow for three days straight.
She was warned that a third day of yellow would reuslt in a spanking and no TV or movies for a week. Given the choice between the two of us, she had Kelli spank her. She may be a future sociopath, but at least she thinks well on her feet. We reminded her of the no-TV rule and sent her to bed for a nap.
Kelli went up a few minutes later to discover that she had deliberately had an accident in her bed. Self-control and the Holy Spirit prevented Kelli from doing her bodily harm. After that little display, we took away all of her Chronicles of Naria toys (a very serious punishment) and boxed up her DVDs (tantamount to torture.) She'll get the toys and DVDs back in a week, if she stays on Green and has no more accidents.
Anyway, all that to say I needed my beer, more than I would have thought a week ago. Plus, it's always good to get more out of shape before starting a documentary about getting in shape. I know, it's a cheap excuse, but I'll keep milking it, thank you.
At her school they have a color system for behavior. If your kid doesn't make any trouble, they stay on Green. If they murder the teacher and place her head on a pike to frighten away villagers from neighboring tribes, their color is changed to Red. For three days straight, Savvi has been on Yellow. That places her somewhere in the "future leader of a rebellion against the galactic empire, whether evil or no" category.
She mainly gets in trouble for laughing and playing during nap time. We let it slide the first day. Inspired by our church, we call that "granting her grace." The second day she got a good talking to and a strategy for preventing trouble. My brilliant close-your-eyes-and-turn-your-back-on-the-instigators plan didn't work at all. Yellow for three days straight.
She was warned that a third day of yellow would reuslt in a spanking and no TV or movies for a week. Given the choice between the two of us, she had Kelli spank her. She may be a future sociopath, but at least she thinks well on her feet. We reminded her of the no-TV rule and sent her to bed for a nap.
Kelli went up a few minutes later to discover that she had deliberately had an accident in her bed. Self-control and the Holy Spirit prevented Kelli from doing her bodily harm. After that little display, we took away all of her Chronicles of Naria toys (a very serious punishment) and boxed up her DVDs (tantamount to torture.) She'll get the toys and DVDs back in a week, if she stays on Green and has no more accidents.
Anyway, all that to say I needed my beer, more than I would have thought a week ago. Plus, it's always good to get more out of shape before starting a documentary about getting in shape. I know, it's a cheap excuse, but I'll keep milking it, thank you.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
More Sleep and a Little Laughter
Okay, knock wood, Cooper has slept at least 7 hours straight for the last three nights. In each case, we've been in bed for 6 of those hours. Unfortunately, last night our neighbors across the street had a big party for their teenage son following his spring formal. I've never seen this kid have too many friends over, so I got the distinct feeling that his parents were buying his popularity. Maybe I'm wrong.
What I know for sure is that waking up at 2:30 in the morning to the sound of squealing teenage girls and testosterone-charged high school boys screaming profanities is not the most pleasant experience in the world. It can only be matched by the time we awoke in a hotel in Germany with German vendors screaming at each other in the market below. We thought we were in a WWII movie. Also not pleasant.
When we awoke this morning, we noticed that there were still at least a dozen cars outside from the party. If the kids were drinking, (which I'm sure they were) then I'm glad they stayed. I went to parties in high school, but I don't ever remember staying past midnight, and I sure as hell never stayed overnight. I looked outside and saw not only boys, but also girls leaving the neighbor's house this morning. I have four words for that: No Daughter of Mine!
Savannah asked on the way to church why there were so many cars outside. We explained that the neighbors had a party. "A birthday party?" she asked. "No." "What kind of party?" Kelli and I didn't miss a beat, "the kind of party you're never going to."
Aside from the teenage debauchery, we've been sleeping pretty well for a change. Kelli and I both seem to have aged in reverse over the last week. Now we only look 5-7 years older than we are, rather than 10-15. I'd post pictures to prove how old we were looking, but they're too mortifying.
Starting a little over a week ago, Cooper is now laughing for real. He looks for reasons to laugh, sort of goading us on whenever we do something that he thinks is funny. The poor little guy gets the hiccups every time he starts to laugh. That doesn't deter him. Just looking at him brings a smile. Unless he's hungry, he's always in a good mood. But he is hungry a lot.
Cooper is eating about every two hours, typically 4-6 ounces. We're really hoping to get permission from his doctor to start feeding him real food. He watches us whenever we eat, longingly staring at each bite. We tried giving him an empty spoon to see if he could handle it. He opened and bit down at the corect times. This kid wants to eat.
He's holding his head up really well. He should be able to sit up, since he is basically a pyramid from the waist up. Alas, all that squishy body mass just won't hold him up.
Sorry I haven't been posting much, but we're working on several speculative projects that might substantially change the way we work, so I've been a little distracted. I'll be setting up a new blog to track my progress in the Body-for-LIFE challenge, including some behind-the-scenes looks at the documentary I'm making about the effort.
What I know for sure is that waking up at 2:30 in the morning to the sound of squealing teenage girls and testosterone-charged high school boys screaming profanities is not the most pleasant experience in the world. It can only be matched by the time we awoke in a hotel in Germany with German vendors screaming at each other in the market below. We thought we were in a WWII movie. Also not pleasant.
When we awoke this morning, we noticed that there were still at least a dozen cars outside from the party. If the kids were drinking, (which I'm sure they were) then I'm glad they stayed. I went to parties in high school, but I don't ever remember staying past midnight, and I sure as hell never stayed overnight. I looked outside and saw not only boys, but also girls leaving the neighbor's house this morning. I have four words for that: No Daughter of Mine!
Savannah asked on the way to church why there were so many cars outside. We explained that the neighbors had a party. "A birthday party?" she asked. "No." "What kind of party?" Kelli and I didn't miss a beat, "the kind of party you're never going to."
Aside from the teenage debauchery, we've been sleeping pretty well for a change. Kelli and I both seem to have aged in reverse over the last week. Now we only look 5-7 years older than we are, rather than 10-15. I'd post pictures to prove how old we were looking, but they're too mortifying.
Starting a little over a week ago, Cooper is now laughing for real. He looks for reasons to laugh, sort of goading us on whenever we do something that he thinks is funny. The poor little guy gets the hiccups every time he starts to laugh. That doesn't deter him. Just looking at him brings a smile. Unless he's hungry, he's always in a good mood. But he is hungry a lot.
Cooper is eating about every two hours, typically 4-6 ounces. We're really hoping to get permission from his doctor to start feeding him real food. He watches us whenever we eat, longingly staring at each bite. We tried giving him an empty spoon to see if he could handle it. He opened and bit down at the corect times. This kid wants to eat.
He's holding his head up really well. He should be able to sit up, since he is basically a pyramid from the waist up. Alas, all that squishy body mass just won't hold him up.
Sorry I haven't been posting much, but we're working on several speculative projects that might substantially change the way we work, so I've been a little distracted. I'll be setting up a new blog to track my progress in the Body-for-LIFE challenge, including some behind-the-scenes looks at the documentary I'm making about the effort.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Sleep at Last! Sleep at Last!
Yesterday was a tough one in the Franklin house. Cooper is usually a pretty laid-back kid, but yesterday was a different story. He cried when you put him down. He whined when you picked him up, then he would cry, then he would doze off. We put him down and the whole thing would start over again. Then he would get hungry. We would feed him, but never fast enough for him. As soon as the bottle hit his mouth, he began to push it away. After a half hour or so, we would manage to get a few ounces in him before he dozed off again. Holding of breath, praying, crossing of fingers -- and then he would wake up crying... again.
Finally last night, after switching him back to a milder form of formula, he took about 10 ounces in an hour then fell asleep. And he slept... And he slept... And he slept. He slept for nearly eight hours! Hallelujah!
For those of you who have never lived with a newborn, you can't possibly understand how monumental this moment was for us. I tried to add up the total number of full nights of sleep I have had since last August. I couldn't remember enough of them to come up with a total, but I know the average is around 1-2 nights per month. PER MONTH!
Funny things happen to your body when you don't sleep any more often than that. One of the weirdest is that you forget how to sleep. Last night, though Coop was sleeping soundly, Kelli and I both woke up after about 5 hours and slept restlessly for the rest of the night. Which was only complicated by another symptom of sleep deprivation: the unflinching desire to beat the crap out of somebody -- anybody -- just because you can. So far, we've restrained from physically beating each other.
So when we couldn't sleep due to our own bodies, we did the only reasonable thing we could -- self-flagellation.
Now, we're not talking about a one-man version of The Passion. But if movies have taught us anything, it's that a bunch of oranges wrapped up in a bed sheet, when whacked against your abdomen at a decent velocity, will result in severe pain and internal organ damage. What movies haven't taught us is how to self-administer a citrus belly-whacking on very little sleep. After several failed attempts and converting our bedroom wall into a giant juicer, we took our sticky, juicy, organs-undamaged selves back to bed and decided to be grateful for the sleep we couldn't take advantage of.
I know. I ended that last sentence with a preposition.. You want proper grammar? Find a blogger who sleeps all night every night.
Finally last night, after switching him back to a milder form of formula, he took about 10 ounces in an hour then fell asleep. And he slept... And he slept... And he slept. He slept for nearly eight hours! Hallelujah!
For those of you who have never lived with a newborn, you can't possibly understand how monumental this moment was for us. I tried to add up the total number of full nights of sleep I have had since last August. I couldn't remember enough of them to come up with a total, but I know the average is around 1-2 nights per month. PER MONTH!
Funny things happen to your body when you don't sleep any more often than that. One of the weirdest is that you forget how to sleep. Last night, though Coop was sleeping soundly, Kelli and I both woke up after about 5 hours and slept restlessly for the rest of the night. Which was only complicated by another symptom of sleep deprivation: the unflinching desire to beat the crap out of somebody -- anybody -- just because you can. So far, we've restrained from physically beating each other.
So when we couldn't sleep due to our own bodies, we did the only reasonable thing we could -- self-flagellation.
Now, we're not talking about a one-man version of The Passion. But if movies have taught us anything, it's that a bunch of oranges wrapped up in a bed sheet, when whacked against your abdomen at a decent velocity, will result in severe pain and internal organ damage. What movies haven't taught us is how to self-administer a citrus belly-whacking on very little sleep. After several failed attempts and converting our bedroom wall into a giant juicer, we took our sticky, juicy, organs-undamaged selves back to bed and decided to be grateful for the sleep we couldn't take advantage of.
I know. I ended that last sentence with a preposition.. You want proper grammar? Find a blogger who sleeps all night every night.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)