Stuff

It should come as no surprise that I am crazy about my children—head over heels, ga-ga, loop-de-loop. Every time I look at Logan, I get little fluttering thoughts about how intelligent, handsome, funny, kind and creative he is. Every time I look at Shay (and I could stare at her puffy little baby face for hours on end), I think about how pretty her eyes are, how good-natured she generally is, how I adore every last one of her myriad facial expressions from smiling and cooing to scowling and frowning. I can't even form a coherent thought about how much I love them—every time I try to grasp it, the thought flits away into this vast wellspring of awe and wonderment over how fortunate we are.

So. We are lucky and busy. Logan started swimming lessons yesterday, which he's taken to like a...uh, like a duck to water (lack of sleep does not good metaphors make). He's already ducking his head underwater, jumping in and doing a substantial amount of kicking. Will took him into the pool last week to get him used to it, and the kid didn't stop smiling the whole time they were in the water. After these lessons are over, I'm going to take him to our apartment pool to keep his practice up. He's always been athletic, and as it's turning out, being in the water is just another venue for him to express that ability.

Sleep continues to be an issue around here—since we made the daylight savings time switch last Sunday, Logan has been averaging three or four wake-ups per night (which means he gets up to find Will, who is sleeping in the living room through no fault of his own), and then Will has to take him back to bed and sing to him before Logan will fall asleep again. Now I remain somewhat blissfully unaware of Logan's nocturne wanderings (until the inevitable morning discussion) since Shay and I sleep in the bedroom with the door very firmly closed. While she wakes me up at least five or six times a night, at least I don't have to get out of bed to deal with it.

I don't know why Logan has always been such a poor sleeper. Of course, two years ago we were certain he'd be sleeping through the night by age three (or two), but it hasn't happened with any real consistency. A woman who was once in one of my aerobics classes told me her daughter didn't start sleeping through the night until FIRST GRADE. What the—?!

Our pediatrician told us that children often sleep better when sharing a room with a sibling, which Logan and Shay will eventually do. I'm a little concerned about doing it NOW though, since Logan is still rambunctious around his sister, and I could easily picture him trying to climb into the Pack n'Play with her or tossing toys inside to her. When she's out of a crib and into a bed of her own seems like the right time, but obviously that won't happen for awhile.

In the meantime, we continue to live in the grand State of Sleep Deprivation, but I, at least, am managing well. (I can't speak for my other half, but he hasn't yet started hallucinating. Not to my knowledge, anyway). When I start feeling a little rough around the edges, I try to remember everything I wrote in the first paragraph, and somehow it all seems much more bearable. And blessed.