Pacing ourselves

So the angel of a child that fell asleep at 6:30 last night? He woke up at 4:45am this morning. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to start his day. I brought him cereal to eat in his sidecar crib. I brought him a second bowl of cereal when he finished the first one and was still hungry. And I brought him the iPad so he could watch Netflix, which he did happily until around 8am. It was not the most restful of sleeps for us, though, because he was like that dude in the movie theatre who can't stop talking about what's going on.

"This is so crazy! Huckle is going to find the missing eggs in Busytown!" "HA! Chuck fell in the mud. He's such a silly truck." "Ooooh. This. Is. Serious."

Carolyn came over to play with Ian this morning and it was blissful! I told him she was coming over and he'd have to decide what he wanted to do and they took off as soon as she walked in the door. They played hockey and trains and rolled around a ball and worked on some modeling clay. And then she left around 11:45 because he said he was tired. He was sacked out on the couch asleep before her car left the driveway. Success!

Today was hard, though, because Rich and Ian are at such different stages of physical activity. It's particularly obvious when the three of us try to go for a walk around the block. Ian races his bike down the sidewalk so that my stomach knots up the closer he gets to the corner and traffic while Rich walks ever so carefully behind me with his cane. I feel absolutely torn between the two of them. Rich needs me to help him work through all he's struggling with, but I have to squeeze that into nap time and late in the day. And Ian has zero desire to leave the house without me holding him.

When Rich was in the hospital I wished that I could clone myself so that I could be with Ian and Rich at the same time. But now that I am with them both at the same time, I'm still wishing for that clone.

Life on the run

Ian has been moving non stop all day.

We went to the hobby store to pick up a train and look around. And then we went to the playground. Then we stopped for a cheeseburger on the way home. He told me he wasn't tired and I actually believed him. So we went back out again to Target to buy some socks for Rich (apparently every pair of his socks has disappeared the last few weeks).

I worried a bit that things may start to fall apart after 4pm, but he kept it together. Things got a little touch and go at dinner time because he was so exhausted, but after a brief meltdown and talking it out, he agreed to sit at the table and watch Scooby Doo while we ate dinner (he wasn't hungry).

15 minutes later he was passed out and drooling on his place mat.

He woke up again around 9pm but after a brief potty trip and some snuggles he is back asleep on the couch. I'll move him to the bed when we go upstairs.

Honestly, I'm not sure how I'm still upright. Even when he's awesome, and he was awesome all day today, he is exhausting. I may pass out at the dining room table myself. But damn, he's just so cute!

Just out of reach

All of our bathroom hand soap is perched on top of the cabinet over the toilet.

This is because our son cannot be trusted to be judicious in his use of hand soap. Everything is extremes with him. He will fight you to not wash his hands as if that bathroom sink is his Waterloo only to discover the water is amazing and attempt to spend 30 minutes scrubbing up as if prepping for surgery.

I started to lose my temper with Ian several times today. Mostly it was when he was getting all punchy and I was trying to restrain him and my elbows felt like they were going to explode. There were several discussions through gritted teeth today.

But it also broke my heart to hear him calling out in his sleep at 5am "No, Mommy! Leave me alone!" in the same plaintive way he does when I'm carrying him up to bed. Poor kid was having bad dreams about going to bed while in bed.

Emotions are raw in the house these days. Rich has a significantly lower patience threshold for shenanigans and the daily life of a three-year-old is rife with shenanigans. So I feel as though I'm holding the entire container of patience for the household in my arms over the course of the day and I'm trying to share it with Rich and even Ian while still leaving some for myself. Sometimes, supplies get low.

We went on a short trip to the pharmacy, all three of us, so that Rich could buy a cane and we could shop for a blood pressure monitor. It was already a dodgy expedition as Ian was tired and getting punchy. There may have been some gritted teeth conversations to get him in his car seat. We drove in silence for a mile or two. And then Ian started chatting about Christmas lights, how people shouldn't have them up every day but just sometimes or else they're not special. And then as he noticed more houses with decorations he got more and more excited, explaining in detail how each house was lit up differently.

All of a sudden, he gasped, "Hey! Look at the stars! Stars are like polka dots in the sky. They're beautiful!"

And all was forgiven. We made it home, snuggled on the couch until he fell asleep and I dragged myself out from under him to try staying awake at least an hour past his bedtime. And when I went to the bathroom tonight and couldn't find the soap to wash my hands, I smiled.