Adjusting to Big-brother-dom revisited (jotted down in sentence-fragment form around the end of October with an attempt to smooth it out and make sense of it all a month later):
Well, Spencer, we took your paci away 2 nights ago. Many people may think it was long over due, and to them I say, "Have a Spencer and then have an opinion." However, you'd been intermittently waking up at night ever since we brought Evelyn home, and you've had a cold, so we have given you benadryl or a decongestant every couple of nights. The timing seemed right--you're awake anyway, and I can give you a little bit of drugs without guilt. I can't imagine taking it away and starting to potty train simultaneously, and both are on the horizon. And, lastly, a friend posted she'd taken the paci away from her second child--her first is your age--and I thought, "Ok, it's 'go time'." Nothing like your mom bowing to positive peer pressure. I did have some, ok tons, of guilt. I sort of felt like we were kickin' you while you were down, so to speak; but I'm just tired enough not to have the energy to over think it as much as I traditionally would. So, that's workin' for me and against you (but FOR you in the long run, of course).
In addition to being up in the middle of the night, you've had multiple 4:30 am wake up times, thanks to the time change. Loath is the word I have for that sort of thing.
So, this morning, after you were up once in the middle of the night, and then at the crack of dawn, I caught you pulling all the wipes out of Evelyn's wipes box. Then, you proceeded to run around the house, scattering my things that are off limits, and finally you resorted to throwing your cup on the ground for fun, so I turned off your morning shows--for the whole morning. That was fairly devastating for you. Sad, but true.
We eventually got out the door and off to speech. When we got back home, you had chocolate milk, and I got Evie to take a nap. I had told you if she napped, we'd go outside. You realized all by yourself that she was asleep and reminded me that I said we'd go outside, so we did.
We started collecting leaves. I tried to get you to collect them, but you preferred to make me do it. And to make me talk to you about them--their shapes, their colors, the tree from whence they came... You had a great time. At one point, we were sitting down, and I told you that God made leaves. You started saying something that I couldn't make out at first, but finally it dawned on me. You were saying what you'd learned in Sunday School a few days before: God made sheep. I was so taken a back. I know you're listening and learning, but it's even more fun to know you're learning from someone else, and coming home, and knowing it. Precious. I might have cried. I blame the postpartum hormones.
I thought we'd glue the leaves we'd collected onto a piece of paper. You like finding the glue, which took me forever, and you liked it when I put the glue on the paper, and then you screamed the whole time I put the leaves on. Whatever. I could NOT figure out what the deal was.
I eventually got you to eat some tuna fish, but then you couldn't settle on what show to watch afterwards. You wouldn't answer me, and everything I proposed you screamed about. I told you that you were tired, changed your diaper, and put you down for a nap. You screamed for about seven minutes (I feel like you're an infant learning to soothe to sleep again--which you kind of are, since we took your most soothing posession in the world away from you at probably your most vulnerable time) and then you fell asleep. "They" also talk about infants having night wakings when they are learning something new developmentally, and I've wondered if your speech therapy has newly accessed some parts of your little brain, causing you to have more to process at night. Your sleep has definitely been disturbed since you began therapy, but, you began therapy two days before your sister was born. So, we'll never know if my hypothesis is correct.
You've actually had many days lately where you've screamed yourself to sleep for your nap. Today you also started declaring, "No," when I asked you if you were ready to listen, even after you'd just had a time out for not listening. As your Dad put it, "We're in full-force with this insecurity thing (since your sister is here now)." When I tell you to say, "Yes, Mommy," you defy me by saying, "Yes, DADDY." And you do the opposite for your dad. Not very creative, but it still made me chuckle a little the first time you came up with it. Crazy littles.
So, after your nap, you were still fairly exhausted since you aren't sleeping as great as you usually do (you're still sleeping better than lots of toddlers--but you need all the sleep you can get!). You continue throughout the afternoon doing the song and dance where we have to basically force you to stop for a meal. You let yourself get so hungry that you're screaming and flailing, it's amazing what protein does for you.
The bright side is that even on days like today, you really love Evelyn, and you're already enjoying her as much as you can. And even on days with lows like today, there are generally plenty of "highs" to balance them out. I will look in the back seat of the car to see you holding Evelyn's hand. Tonight you cried most of the way home from Gigi's because Evelyn was in the green car with Daddy. You wanted Evie in the "white car!" I asked if you missed her, and you said, "'KAY!" Y'all are going to be great buddies (and probably excellent sparring partners).
I recounted our day, not because it was unusual but because it was typical, but overall I'd say you're adjusting to our new family arrangement quite nicely. Hang in there, having a sibling only gets better!
