Sweet Frustration

Just look at that sweet face.  

How in world could that peaceful, adorable face 

be causing me such frustration? 

It's petty, really, and I know that.

It's just that she only sleeps like that when I either hold her or Ergo her or cuddle her in my bed.  When one of those three options are employed, she's a great sleeper.  In her bassinet, I can only count on about 30 minutes of peaceful sleep ... before she needs me to help her fall back to sleep. 

Today I feel like every moment of my free time is spent helping her to sleep and keeping her that way.  And I am feeling frustrated.

A big part of my current predicament is my fault ... but I rationalize it mostly because of her age and size.

CJV is still so young and small.  She's nearly two months old, but she's only weighing in the mid seven pound range - a weight that is typical of - if not smaller than - most newborns.  And so I continue to treat her like a newborn.  I hold her and cuddle her and watch her sleep.  I know that I should be empowering her to put herself to sleep ... that transition should probably be happening now.  But I am not sure I am ready to give her that slice of independence.  Part of me loves knowing that she so completely depends on me.

In the back of my mind and squeezing at my heart is the fact I won't be the mommy of a newborn ever again; at least we've semi-made that decision.  Selfishly, I just want to soak up every moment.

But, just as selfishly, I could also use a few moments to myself.  Oh, what's a momma to do?!

3 Days to 2

This day will further more be known as the Great Broccoli Showdown. And let's be clear, I didn't win this one. As I've mentioned before, Natalie is currently not eating fruits or vegetables ... with very few exceptions. Can you tell that I am a little perturbed by the situation? My inner control freak is going nuts with every failed attempt to get this almost-two-year-old to eat something more nutritious than Veggie Booty! After tonight's incident, I even pulled out the Deceptively Delicious cookbook, a gift from my thoughtful friend Tammy, with the best of intentions but a lack of enthusiasm when I realized that all of the recipes include at least 10 ingredients - that's not my kind of cooking.

Enough about my kitchen shortcomings and back to the Great Broccoli Showdown ...

The plate of food I prepared for Natalie had bits of chicken strips, ranch dip, pieces of focaccia bread, a slice of Havarti cheese, and one floret of broccoli cut into smaller chunks. She ate one bite of chicken, bread, and cheese, and then pronounced that she was "all done." With a full plate of food on her tray - a meal that I had spent time planning and preparing - I was more than disappointed by her feeble efforts.

Natalie: "All done. All done. All done."

Me: "Ummm. No my sweet girl you are not 'all done' - you need to eat two more bites of chicken."

She gave into that request and picked up two pieces of chicken and shoved them both in her mouth. After chewing for about 20 seconds, she spit her mouthful of chicken puree onto the plate. I was all but furious at this point. I was really letting her get to me.

Natalie: "All done. All done. All done."

Me: "Ummm. No, Natalie, you are not 'all done' - you need to try one bite of broccoli."

Natalie: "Noooooo. Noooooo. All done. Down. Down."

This is where things got interesting. I was not about to give up this little fight. She was going to eat a bite of broccoli and that was all there was to it!

At first I remained calm and repeated the choice she needed to make, "You may get down after you try one bite of broccoli."

And Natalie replying, "No. All done."

And my reminder, "If you don't try the broccoli, you may not get down."

This exchange went back and forth for a good two minutes when Chad said, "Well, you can't back down now." So true, so true.

In a weak moment, one I am not even remotely proud of, a moment I am fairly certain would qualify me for MckMama's "Not Me Monday," I picked up a piece of green mush and put it in her mouth while she squirmed and protested.

So not the right move. I know that. She cried and I felt awful and mean and sad. I wiped her face and hands, let her down from her chair, and hugged her close.

Broccoli is so not worth it!