About This Blog
Welcome to my blog. I'm Anne-Marie Nichols, a 40-something WAHM to Nathan, 6, and Lucie, 3. I've been married 12 years to their dad Paul, a scientist. When I'm not doing the mommy thing, I'm a freelance writer, and vice president of the board of directors for a Colorado public charter school. In my spare time I like to sleep, eat, read, and decorate cakes.
I created this online journal to share some entertaining and insightful stories from my own experiences as a writer, domestic engineer, and mom. I encourage you to share this blog with your friends, and hopefully it will spark some lively discussions on issues we can all relate to. Enjoy!
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Jul 30 2008
Insomnia
Friends wonder how I get everything done -- my writing gigs and blogs, the massive amount of volunteer work I do, the charter school, my mom's club, and the usual daily mama stuff of running a household, getting errands done, and taking my kids to playgroups, school and activities. I find time to read books, cook dinner from scratch, and keep up with the laundry, too.
Well, I'm very organized and work quickly. Yet, I have one big secret to success --insomnia. There's nothing like waking up at 3 a.m., booting up my laptop, and getting some tasks done. By the time the kids are awake (and since Nathan's an early riser that means 6 a.m.) I've been able to plan the week's menus and shopping list, or write up a couple of blog posts, or maybe finish reading a book or a couple of magazines. There's nothing like a few hours of uninterrupted quiet to get things done.
But these days that's becoming rare. Occasionally Nathan will come downstairs at 4 or 5 a.m. and interrupt my muse. Still, I'm able to quickly march him back upstairs, persuading him to go back to bed and get some sleep because he has school in the morning.
But today, as I closed my bedroom door dressed in my slippers and robe, armed with my iPod, book and glasses, I heard a little voice coming from the living room, "Hi mommy. I'm down here! I'm hungry." At 4:30 a.m., I found Lucie lying on the couch in the dark holding her blankie. According to her, she had been down there awhile and was waiting for me to come down and feed her.
After setting her up on the couch with food, blankets and the TV turned down low (thank goodness for PBS Kids Sprout which is on 24/7) I went into the kitchen to make a mug of tea. A few minutes later, Lucie wandered in requesting juice and water, and complaining that her arm hurt. Thinking that "sleeping funny" on her arm may have woken her up in the first place, I grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and got Lucie settled back down on the couch.
I started to write, but was interrupted by Lucie freaking out over spilling peach yogurt on her pajama top. Grabbing a dish towel, I cleaned up the minor mess, and got her resituated with blankets, sippy cups, yogurt, and pillows.
The interruptions kept coming -- her PJ bottoms were falling down, she was done with the yogurt, the pillow was wet, and so on. What was the point having productive insomnia when I kept getting interrupted? It might as well have been the middle of the day for all the work I was getting done.
Still, it was fun being awake with Lucie in the wee hours of the morning. There's something magical about hearing the birds singing as the sun comes up. I was fascinated how they kept tune with the Sesame Street theme song coming from the TV, too. Sunny day, indeed.
Jul 25 2008
Return of the king
From the kitchen, we hear the bedroom door open. "Woo hoo, daddy's up!" yells Nathan as he charges up the stairs to greet his father.
"Daddy's awake! My daddy's awake!" screams Lucie as she runs after her brother.
I'm amazed at the pandemonium generated by Paul as he leaves our bedroom. After eight days away on a business trip, his arrival at the breakfast table is treated like a visit from a rock star. Knowing that it'll be business as usual tomorrow, I just hope that he's soaking up his children's adulation. (He is.)
Me, I'm just glad that I'm not the subject of all the noise and screaming. It's way too early in the morning for that sort of thing.
Jul 23 2008
A basketful of buddies
In her bedroom, Lucie has several laundry baskets full of stuffed animals. She's got big stuffed pigs, and little beanie anteaters, realistic baby dolls, and fuzzy teddy bears. Many of her buddies are Nathan's castoffs that he never warmed up to. One is a larger version of his Mr. Bunny, and wears an old sized 2T dress of Lucie's. (Yes, it's that big.) She also has old stuffed animals of mine, including two Opus penguins from when Bloom County was all the rage back in the '80s.
Except for a stuffed doll named, Baby Shelby (after her buddy Banks' little sister) they have generic names like kitty or puppy. Even so, Lucie is an equal opportunity stuffed animal caregiver and loves them all, except for a couple of stuffed black widow spiders which she hides under her bed. "Too scary, mama," she explains.
She's always thrilled to rediscover buddies found under bedding or pillows. Not having seen her little beanie leopard for a couple of weeks, Lucie will exclaim, "Oh kitty, I love you." and give it a big kiss. Still she has her favorites, like Angelina Ballerina, which sleeps with her every night.
Lucie is always accompanied by an entourage of stuffed animals, whether it's playing tea party, watching a video, or going on errands in the car. However, Paul and I have different rules for the buddy posse. Usually, he wants all stuffed animals to stay at home. Nevertheless, I'll sneak one or two in her backpack. I don't care how many she wants to bring along as long as she can get them all in a small basket. However, they must stay in the car, since we've lost too many in grocery stores. Still one has to come with us, and usually ends up in my jacket pocket or in the diaper bag.
At the end of the day, I'm the official buddy wrangler, gathering them from the car and living room, and taking them back to Lucie's room. Still I'll miss a few, like the ones in our bed that Paul inevitably finds. "That girl has too many buddies," he'll say. I'll reply, "You can never have too many buddies." As a man who has a few too many toys of his own, he usually agrees.
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