Good Night, Sleep Tight (Or Something Like It)

Sometimes I feel like my entire life is tied up in whether or not my children get enough sleep. Any mom out there will know what I'm talking about. Or maybe it's just me.

Kendall is generally easy enough to get to sleep. She's taking three naps a day and goes to sleep on her own at night. Her problem isn't going to sleep. It's staying asleep. She routinely wakes up 45 minutes into her nap, wide awake and ready to play. Then she's exhausted just 30 minutes later, but unable to settle down. She wakes in the middle of the night and early in the morning with no intention of going back to sleep without intense cajoling. One night last week it lasted for two and a half hours. Let that sink in. For two and a half hours, she was wide awake, either screaming or thinking about screaming. It was not fun. For the past week she's been stirring between 4 and 5 a.m. wide awake and raring to go. That's just a bit earlier than I'm willing to get up in the mornings.

Micah, on the other hand, sleeps like a rock. Her problem is going to sleep. I can feel the dread of naptime approaching when it's still hours away. I know what will happen. I'll give her a five-minute warning. I'll set the timer and tell her that when it goes off, it's time for a nap. Sometimes, she instantly complies, cleaning up her toys and docilely following me to her room, where we'll read a story, and I'll gently tuck her in. She'll give me a hug and kiss, I'll give her a pat and leave the room. Only to come back five minutes later to discover her surrounded by a pile of books on her bed, quietly resisting a nap. Other times, she flat out refuses to get ready for a nap and throws herself into a rage before we even head to the bedroom. I end up taking away all of her favorite baby dolls, her blankies, and her dream lite every single day before she finally gives it up and goes to sleep. The same thing usually happens at bedtime.

A few nights ago, Dennis and I were sitting in the den, preparing to go to bed ourselves. It was 10:03 when Micah came bebopping into the room. She was wearing a princess gown over her pajamas. She had a crown on her head, a string of Mardi Gras beads around her neck, and one cheap plastic clip-on earring dangling from her right ear. She stuck out her bottom lip as she handed me the other earring and said, "Mama, my eaw-wing bwoke. Can you fix it?"

I just looked at her in shock. Seriously, kid? She had been playing silently in her room for TWO ENTIRE HOURS, and she really expected me to fix the blasted earring? At that moment, I decided that her dress-up clothes probably shouldn't live in her closet anymore. You can imagine how well that went over.

I'm not really sure how I became this sleep-obsessed mom - I only know that if my kids don't get enough of it, then it's all over. I will fiercely protect naps and sequester my girls in the house if something threatens their rest. I'm sure that some people think I'm crazy, but I also know that my sweet little girls turn into raging little monsters if they don't get enough sleep. I suppose they get that from me.

At any rate, we've been going through a rough patch lately. Neither of my girls are sleeping particularly well, and it's starting to wear on me. As I mentioned before, sleep and I are really good friends. I don't respond well when our time together is interrupted.

Sigh. I know many of you can commiserate with me. I'm looking forward to the days when they're a bit older and I can stop worrying so much about the amount of time that their eyes are closed each day. Of course, I'm sure there will be something else to worry about then. It's just one of the many joys of motherhood. We've gotta have something to worry about. And right now, it's sleep.

Anyone else dealing with sleep issues with their kiddos? I'd love to hear about your experiences in the comments section.

Until next time, grace and peace.

Make It Work: Finding Time for a Quiet Time

It's no secret that I'm not a morning person. I never have been, and, most likely, I never will be. Back in 2011, I embarked on a journey to become more disciplined and intentional. I started the year with the lofty goal of getting up with Dennis every morning at 5 a.m. I think that lasted for about three days before I quit.

It's just not for me, y'all.

My entire life, I've been OK with being a night owl. Growing up, the hour before I went to bed was my time to journal and study scripture. Since I always rolled out of bed with precisely enough time to get myself ready and out the door, having a quiet time in the morning was never really in the cards.

Then I got married, and suddenly my time alone each evening disappeared. Evenings were spent making supper and hanging out with Dennis. Life changed, and so did my quiet times. I started journaling and studying Scripture in the mornings when I woke up alone, since Dennis had long been gone for work.

That worked fine for a few years, then I had a baby, and, once more, everything changed. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out when I was supposed to spend any time alone with the Lord. Every night, I fell into bed exhausted from a day of feeding a hungry little mouth and wiping a cute little hiney. The blogosphere is full of all these happy little mamas who cheerfully get up at 5 a.m. to sip coffee and enjoy the solitude of the morning. I think they're crazy. Sleep and I are way too happy together for me to give it up for a little time alone.

These days, I've decided to follow the advice of Tim Gunn. I'm making it work, y'all. I sit at the dining table while Micah eats breakfast and watches Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Kendall rolls around on the floor. I'm frequently interrupted by squeals of laughter and Micah's questions, but that doesn't make my time with the Lord any less sweet. In fact, I think it makes it sweeter.

This is my life. I've finally come to terms with the fact that I'm probably not going to have a solid hour alone each day, but if I can sit on my tail and read blogs and catch up on facebook while my kids entertain themselves, there's no reason why I can't read my Bible and write in my journal instead. An added bonus to this solution is that as my girls grow up, they will see their mama begin each day in the word of God, and I think that's important. It's called leading by example.

Over the years, I've seriously had to alter my concept of what an acceptable "quiet time" is. Way back in the day, I would plug in my headphones, listen to some praise music, write in my journal, study my Bible, and read a book. In that order, every single time. Alone in my room, usually with a candle lit. It was my special time with the Lord. Sometimes we insist that a quiet time isn't right if it's not absolutely silent and serene. Like God doesn't hear our prayers if we don't utter them solemnly while we're all alone in our rooms. As if we're doing it wrong if it doesn't follow some silly preset formula or format.

It's taken me 30 years to realize that time with the Lord doesn't have to be silent to be meaningful. It doesn't have to be perfect to be purposeful. Today, I'm reminded that Jesus has called me to walk with Him and to talk with Him. It's that simple.

Until next time, grace and peace.

The New Normal

It's hard to know what to say now that I've finally decided to take the plunge and resurrect this blog. I really didn't mean to drop off the face of the planet in February. It just sort of happened. And then, the longer I said nothing, the harder it became to pick up where I left off. And now, it's November and crickets have been chirping here for eight months! Sorry bout that, y'all.

I'll try not to let it happen again, but I'm offering no guarantees.

Instead, I'll try to hit the highlights of the past eight months of my life. Then we'll get on to business as usual.

I had a baby. Isn't she sweet? Last time I wrote, I was still reeling from the unexpected news that I was pregnant. Now I have a 4-month-old little girl that I can't imagine life without. Kendall arrived a couple of weeks early (unlike her sister, who debuted a week late), and I did it au naturale. Maybe someday I'll tell you about it.

I renamed and rebranded my stationery business. Goodbye Senojal Designs. Hello Felicity Paper. The change was a long time coming, and I couldn't be happier with the result. I wanted a name that (a) people could actually pronounce and (b) reflected my business goals. I'll tell you more about that later.

Micah turned three. This picture is from her "fancy schmancy" third birthday party, which was heavily inspired by Fancy Nancy books. It's hard to believe that my baby is now a big girl who constantly tells me what she's going to do when she grows up. Slow down, sister! Please. Your mama needs you to.

I survived. That may not seem like a big deal to some of you, but it's gargantuan to me. There are some women who flourish and glow their way through the newborn stages. I'm not one of them. It's hard for me. It was especially hard to figure out how to parent my toddler with a baby that demanded my attention. We had a lot of moments like the one pictured above, and unlike the picture, I wasn't always smiling. But we're getting there. As Kendall gets older, life gets easier, and I'm finally able to come up for air. In case you were wondering, it's nice to breathe again.

I promise to be back sooner rather than later this time. It's my goal to write once a week. If I can master that, we'll shoot for twice a week.

Until next time, grace and peace.