Blueberry Bushes and Bedtime

I don’t know why I haven’t written anything substantial in almost two weeks. I’ve certainly started enough posts in my head. Work was rough before break and there certainly wasn’t time to dash off any deep thoughts. Without revealing too much, politics and parents are really getting me down.

Another problem is bedtime. Z. is going through this phase where he wants me to stay with him until he falls asleep. The virtuous mindful parent in me wants to honor this as this is what he needs right now and pretty soon he won’t want me around and I should savor this. The Ferber parent feels manipulated and that the kid is almost three and should go to sleep on his own after his proper bedtime routine. Either way, I’m not getting time to myself until about 9pm unless he’s skipped a nap. I just snuck out of the prison made of dinosaur sheets and Toy Story decals. I either wait until he’s sleepy enough and I can tell him that I’m just going to the bathroom or I get pissed off and snap at him everytime he giggles or I fall asleep. See my awesome options?

The thing is I don’t care what he does in there. He can have a keg party as long as I don’t have to stay until my bedtime.

On a better note, we has an awesome “weekend” away. (Chef’s hours: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday). We stayed overnight in a hotel sans child (at my mom’s). It was my first night away from Z. Harder than I thought but incredible. The best part was after our amazing dinner, my husband put his arm around me and asked, “You wanna just get some beer and go back to the hotel and watch The Voice?”


Oh and we got blueberry bushes. More on those and the sprouting garden tomorrow. (I hope!)

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