Tonight was playdate night for Cale. Cale's buddy Bennett came over, along with his parents. We haven't hung out with the Olivers in awhile so it was good to get together. We opted for take out at our house this time, hoping to avoid any restaurant drama and give the boys a little extra playtime. It's so funny to watch Cale play with another child his own age. Everything was "mine" and things that are usually of absolutely no interest, suddenly became very enticing once in the hands of some competition. We got to see how selfish our little guy can be. But who can blame him? He's still is in the egocentric stage where he can't really understand that the world doesn't exactly revolve around him. And I don't think his daddy and I are doing him any favors in this area. Right now I think we are pretty much 100% wrapped up in Cale. But, I guess in February when the new little one comes along, things will be put into perspective for the "big brother". To tell you the truth, I almost feel a little sorry for him.

Cale is getting to the age where he knows how to get what he wants from us. Of course he still whines and throws fits and tries all of the usual tactics, but lately he's realizing that other strategies work quite well to get attention. He often lifts his arms up to me and says, "Hold you mommy, please", and what do I do? Well, hold him, of course. Works almost every, single, time. I threw that almost in there just to make myself not sound like such a softie. Yes, even when I'm cooking, cleaning, trying to dry my hair, or doing any other thing in which holding a 26 pound kid is completely ridiculus. Cale has also discovered how to say, "Boo boo, hurt". He had a really bad infection on his finger that actually began looking pretty rough. He got quite a lot of attention during that time because we knew it was very painful and that it was making him uncomfortable. Well, that finger has looked almost healed for days, but Cale keeps telling me how much his boo boo hurts. As if he doesn't get enough attention already. The other morning, he literally winced in pain, said, "Boo boo, hurts" and held up his finger. He held it up for about 10 seconds until he realized it was the WRONG finger. Nice try, Cale. Yeah, I think he's playing us for a little sympathy, wouldn't you say?

The bad thing is he cracks me up so much. Sometimes when he's doing his most mischievious/ornery things, we find him the funniest. The other night, Cale got upset because he wasn't getting his way. Imagine that. He put his head into the side of the couch and began bawling. Then, he looked up thoughtfully, and decided to take it a step further. He completely layed himself face down on the floor and bawled, because I guess standing with his head leaning against the couch crying wasn't quite as dramatic as throwing himself on the floor in a full out hissy fit. Carl and I just sat there and laughed and laughed. No, not out loud. We're not that awful! We just quietly chuckled as we watched our child trying one of his new attention-seeking, get-my-way (only occassionally successful), techniques. It's amazing to look back and see how much Cale has changed, even if sometimes he seems at his hardest stage. He is also at his most loveable, funny, and curious stage. He's just becoming such a little person, instead of a baby. He amazes me every single day.

I'm Still Up to My Strange Ways

A while back I devoted a blog to all of the strangeness that is my sleep pattern. I often do weird things in the night that I barely even remember. I guess I'm having some kind of awful nightmares, but the strange thing is I don't remember a thing from my dreams. Carl swears that several times a week I have these "episodes" (I'm sounding like a real mental case right about now, huh?) Just because I haven't blogged about it in quite some time, doesn't mean I'm not still up to my old ways.

So, the worst episode happened right after we moved into our new house. It was about 2:00 in the morning when I woke up yelling at Carl. He said that I was yelling, "Get him off of me, get him off of me!". Now, the weird thing is I have no idea what I was dreaming or thinking at this point, but I can remember the pressure of something big and long (like a really heavy snake) pushing down on me. I can remember flopping around trying to get it off of me, but it wouldn't budge. It was so real I almost still think something was there. Now, Carl was fast asleep and of course when he heard me yelling he jumped up. He said that all he could see was a dark silouette of someone sitting up on the bed. So, he ran over, thinking somebody was on top of me, and grabbed the person, about to throw him down off the bed. Luckily, when he grabbed the "person" by the neck, he realized it was only me. I was the one sitting up in bed. After griping at me for scaring him to death and telling me that I was lucky he didn't hurt me on accident, he went back to sleep and I sat there wondering what the heck kind of dream I must have been having! I guess it's a blessing that I don't remember anything specific.

Well, this kind of thing seriously happens a lot in our household. Sometimes it happens when Carl is still awake, which he prefers because then he doesn't get his sleep interrupted. Also, it freaks him out when he's awoken by my screaming or pulling on him. Poor Carl didn't know what he was getting into when he married me!

The other night, I remember waking up, running into the room where Carl was on the Playstation and telling him that two men were in our room. I had only been asleep for about 45 minutes at the time. By the time I repeated it to Carl, I realized that what I was saying didn't make sense and that I must have been dreaming. My pulse was racing so fast and hard that I could feel it, just standing there. So, I reluctantly went back to bed and actually slept the rest of the night.

Now, I'm really not someone who is scared of everything. I don't go to bed thinking awful scary thoughts or worrying about someone "getting" me. So, I have no idea where these outbursts come from. But, I know I must not be sleeping well, and maybe that's one reason, besides being pregnant, that I'm tired all the time. I would almost like to have some sleep studies done on me, in hopes to figure out what is wrong! But, I don't think I could sleep very comfortably knowing that there would be people behind the glass watching me. I'm betting that might make my nightmares worse!

August, please don't come so soon!

I can't believe that it's almost August! To most people the month of August probably doesn't mean much, but to a school teacher this is the most dreaded month of the entire year. The month where your other life begins again. The life that you sort of >forget about for a couple of months every summer. Over. Well, I guess I'm being a little dramatic because we still have a few weeks but it sure feels like the day is near. Don't get me wrong, I do like my job and I somewhat enjoy the structure and necessary routine of a work week. There is actually a small part of me that is excited about going back. But, mainly because for me, I associate the new school year with things like cooler weather, the pumpkin patch, holidays, etc. So, I realize in order to get to all of these things, school must begin.

I've been going up to my classroom on the days that Cale goes to the babysitter. So, I guess that's why I feel like school has pretty much started already. Every year it's the same thing. I get nervous about what my classroom of students will be like, nervous about the first day and all it's craziness, nervous about being a good teacher, just...nervous. I usually have some kind of dream a few nights before school begins. The dream always consists of a teacher's worst case scenario: kids being wild, crazy, loud, out of control, and not listening to a word I say. It scares me everytime and makes me wake up in a panic. But, luckily the first day is never that bad. Thank goodness I'm not a kindergarten teacher!

So a few weeks ago, I had one of those weeks. But, today I had one of those days, in a good way. We started the morning as always, watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in bed with our little man. As soon as he wakes up, the current ritual is to go get him and bring him into our bed for some toons. Then, we got around and went to McDonald's for breakfast...which was all good until Carl decided to look at the little sheet that tells the calories/fat grams in each item. After I heard that, I was rethinking those 1 1/2 bacon/egg/cheese biscuits I had just scarfed down, I mean nibbled on very lady-like! I shared half of one with Cale. I would have given him more, I really would have, but that was all he wanted. After that we came home and spent the rest of the day playing. Cale was in the best mood I can remember him being in for quite some time. First of all, he felt good, obviously, which makes a huge difference. Secondly, he took a 3 1/2 hour nap vs. his normal 1-1 1/2 hour nap. I have to admit, at hour 3...I was starting to get worried and thinking some pretty scary thoughts. But, he was fine of course. It's amazing how plenty of sleep can completely change a child's, or adult's, personality.

This afternoon we headed to Conway for some Chili's and Playworld. Knock on wood, Cale has been surprisingly good at restaurants lately. But, we've also discovered a trick that works wonderfully for Cale. He wasn't satisfied with us simply putting pieces of food, like chicken nuggets or bread, in front of him. He wants his own plate, some sort of dipping sauce, and a utensil...even though he's still not great with spoons/forks. So tonight, he got his own little bowl of cheese dip, which he used to his enjoyment to make a rather nice mess. But, I've discovered that a mess is better than screaming! He also got a plate full of my chicken strips and fries...which he played with more than ate...but I'm not complaining.

After dinner, was the big finale...Playworld! It was our first time to go to Playworld, but we'd heard all about it because my nieces have been several times. It was really awesome and I think Cale had the time of his little 18-month old life. If you haven't been you should really try it. It cost $5 for Cale to play, which I though was really reasonable compared to some of the other places I've heard about. The best part of the whole place is this huge maze that kids can climb through, but there's also a small play area with toddler equipment and lots of games for older kids. But, back to the maze. Cale was too little to go all by himself. So, Carl nominated me to go through with him because he thought he was "too heavy", great excuse, huh? So, I figured what the heck. It couldn't be too strenuous...I mean it's made for kids. Oh was I wrong. My pregnant self could barely make it to the end. And by the end, I was literally sore and hurting. Worse than a trip to the gym. You had to climb up, down, around and around...slide through tunnels, crawl under things, over things. It probably took us about 15 minutes to go through the entire thing. Yeah, it's really big.

I was struggling a little as we went, but managing. That is, until the reverse slide. It may not sound bad, but believe me...it's torture. There was this very long enclosed, slide that you had to climb up to get to the next part of the maze. Just a word of warning, if you take your kids, don't do that part. I let Cale go in front of me so that I could catch him if he fell...which he did about 10 times until he finally got the hang of it. The problem was that his momma couldn't quite get the hang of it. The slide was fairly narrow and there was no good way to pull yourself up. About half-way up my arms felt like jello and I seriously thought I wasn't going to make it. But, then I looked up and realized Cale was all the way to the top. So, I knew I had to make it...which was a bad feeling. Then I heard someone shout, "You better watch him because there's a fireman's pole and a big drop when you get to the top." So, I guess my motherly adrenaline kicked in because somehow I made it up that slide in time to catch Cale. I guess the visions of Cale tumbling down that hole gave me the extra push I needed. So, I was finally up the slide...problem solved. Wrong. There Cale and I sat, pondering how we would get down this pole. Well, I was pondering. Cale was just trying to pry himself from my arms so he could go, or more like plummet, to the bottom. The drop was much too high for me to just toss Cale down, or believe me...I would have. So, I kept attempting to slide down while holding him...but that was impossible and probably quite funny to watch. I was getting discouraged because I went to all that trouble to get up that darn slide and now we were going to have to slide back down. But, then a girl...probably around 8 years old came through. When she slid down the pole I asked her if I could hand Cale to her. The sweet little thing said yes, even though she probably didn't weigh that much more than Cale herself. So, after all the drama we made it through and found our way back out. Let's just say I strongly think, slides are meant to be slid down, not climbed up.

I told Carl that he had to go through at least one time with Cale, because I wanted him to see that it was no piece of cake. I know he thought I was a wimp when I came out of there so worn out...with my hair coming out of my ponytail and what I think was a slight limp. When Carl and Cale got to the reverse slide...Carl got stuck halfway and I laughed so hard I cried. He finally managed to pull himself up and slide down the pole with Cale. Afterwards, as he emerged, all sweaty, from the maze he told me he couldn't believe that I had actually made it up that slide. Ahhh, the feeling of vindication I felt in that moment!

But, all in all, it was the perfect night and Cale behaved like a perfect little guy. I'm sure it was the first of many trips to Playworld.

Horrible Mom Award

Okay, so I think I deserve the "horrible mom award" for the last week and a half. In my last post I complained about what a monster Cale had been last week. And believe me, he was. But, this week has been worse, way worse. I've been in a workshop in Beebe during the day for the past three days so I haven't been with Cale until 5:00 each evening. My mom took him to the doctor on Monday because he had a fever all weekend, complained that he "hurt", and was beginning to get noticeable bumps near his lips. Of course, he has mouth ulcers, which completely explain last week's behavior. I feel a little bad for complaining about him, poor thing couldn't help it. I had a bad experience with mouth ulcers in college and I must say it was the worst pain I've ever been in. (It would be childbirth, but thank you epidural!) So, I can only imagine what Cale feels like. He has about 3 on the inside of his bottom lip and has now began developing some on his tongue. He cries a large part of the day away, and the same goes for the night. The horrible thing about mouth ulcers is, they just have to run their course. (Which, in my case took about 2 weeks, and I'm praying that Cale's do not linger that long). He woke up about 4-5 times last night. I'm dreading what tonight will hold. There's nothing worse than listening to your baby scream, but not being able to make them stop. It's 9:00 and he already woke up about 30 minutes after falling asleep and is actually beginning to scream at the moment. Two times awake by 9:00...this is gonna be one long night.

I hate mouth ulcers!

It's Just Been One of Those Weeks!

Have you ever had one of those weeks that you just want to erase? A week that makes you want, no long, to go back to work where things are easy? I never thought work would seem like a relief! Well, that was my week. Oh, where to begin? Well, to start let's just say Dalebert was present all week long. And I don't mean a mild form of Dalebert-ishness here and there. Oh no, this has been, full-on Dalebert, almost 24/7 at his most horrifying yet. Guess Calebert took a vacation or some kind of leave, I don't know. All I know is that he must come back soon or I'm.going.to.go.crazy.

Cale has whined, cried, and thrown tantrums more this week than in his entire life put together. When I try to walk he's between my legs, when I try to cook he's pushing/pulling me backwards, when I try to do most anything he screams (which also involves lots of tears and throwing himself on the ground oh-so-dramatically). Thank heavens for the outdoors. That is the one thing that has saved us this week. He's typically content when outside, although today even running through the grass pushing his Cozy Coupe or riding his tractor just couldn't make things better. There was even a frog incident this morning. During a screaming fit, I frantically took Cale out to the back porch (because from experience, I've learned that this usually calms the storm quickly and rather painlessly...that is until time to go back inside in which the storm brews all over again) So, when we got outside we noticed our pet walking stick, whom we call Twiggy,was perched on the window. So, we headed over to give him a pet (he's been living on our back porch for a few weeks now) While checking him out, we noticed a frog had planted his slimy little self on our new patio furniture. Of course, Cale loved the frog, although he wouldn't think of touching it. Oh no, he wanted me to touch it. Now, I'll touch Twiggy the walking stick to humor my son (even though I don't particularly enjoy it), but for some reason I really didn't want to touch that frog. So, I decided I wouldn't give in. Cale pulled my arm, he tugged on my hand, he even forcefully got my fingers very close, but I wouldn't do it. Well, let's just say that saying "pick your battles wisely" applies here. I probably should have touched the stupid thing because the tantrum of all tantrums began. That was one of about 30 today. I'm not even kidding.

What's almost worse than the day time drama is the night time screaming. For some reason this week Cale has been waking up 2-3 times a night crying inconsolably. I get up, go in his room, try to make him feel better and he screams even harder, pushing my hands away and not letting me hold him. It was so bad one night, that (after getting up 3 times to try to calm Cale and being unsuccessful), the fourth time I got up and threw the baby monitor at the wall. I know, I know. I tell Carl that he can't hold me accountable for things I say and do in the middle of the night when Cale is having "one of those nights" and I'm not getting any sleep. (On a side note, it perturbs me just a bit that Carl can sleep through every minute of the screaming) Then, I went back to sleep only to wake up a few hours later feeling guilty wondering how long Cale cried after the monitor was off. Needless to say I turned it back on. Well, pretty much that same scenario has repeated itself all week long (well, besides the monitor-throwing thing...that only happened once, I promise!)

So, tomorrow Cale is going to his babysitter and I'm going shopping with my mom and sister. Let's just say I'm a little more than excited. A day off with something other than cleaning, grocery shopping, and cooking to do. I'm sure halfway through the day I will begin missing my little guy because no matter how difficult he seems sometimes, I love him to pieces and wouldn't trade him for the world. But, in those moments when I'm beginning to miss him I will just think back on the week's events. Events that I would rather just forget, but events that will probably occur many more times in Cale's young life. I guess I just need to toughen up. I mean, we still have the 'terrible twos' heading our way in about 6 months!