I feel like I have a newborn again.
Elise asked me last night why I put the pineapple in the sink.
"Huh?"
"Yeah. You put the pineapple in the sink. It had the lid on it."
Oh boy.
Clementine and our nanny, Mrs. Rita, took it upon themselves to move Clementine's crib out from under the mosquito netting and to replace it with her "big girl bed", making it her primary sleeping spot. Before, she would only occasionally nap in her big girl bed, but now she was sleeping in it every night.
She turns three on Sunday, so this may seem like a natural time to make this transition, but Clementine is still a little spoiled in some ways. Only up until very recently did we ever force her to go to sleep in her own bed. Call us lazy. Call us exhausted. Call us giving in to the wills of the youngest child. Call it what you will, I let Clementine fall asleep in my spot in our bed. After she was fast asleep, I would gently move her into her own bed.
Now, we are attempting to get her to fall asleep in her own bed. This isn't without some resistance. Elise lies with her to help her fall asleep. I lie on the floor next to her, my head on a couch cushion. Invariably, she wakes in the middle of the night, sneaks out of her bed and into our room. Once, I caught her headed downstairs.
Yesterday, after not falling asleep until 10:00 p.m., she woke at 3:30 a.m. and never fell back to sleep. I craddled her back to sleep on the couch, but when I attempted to move her back to her own bed, she woke, complaining, "I can't sleep." Au contrare, my dear Clementine, you were just asleep! Then, I laid down next to her in her own toddler bed (yes, it is about as comfortable as it sounds; my feet propped up on the hard, wooden footboard). She fell asleep (again), but when I attempted to extract myself from her bed (still difficult even though I've been doing more sit-ups. Imagine a contortionist unfolding oneself from a small, glass box in front of a crowd on the Boardwalk), she woke up again, still complaining, "I just can't sleep." But you were just sleeping! Again!
Elise and I keep telling ourselves she will get better at staying in her bed. Clinging to this hope is about the only thing that isn't keeping us from running down the road, screaming.
After staying up with Clementine from 3:30 until the boys woke up at 6:00, I felt like my skin was crawling. My insides were churning, and my skin couldn't hold everything in. I felt like I would overflow and burst. I thought I would scream. As Sundar drove me to work, it took every molecule of my being to calm myself, to keep from flinging open the car door and go running mad into the busy, Chennai streets. I needed to run, but I left my running shoes at home. What a fool.
The lack of sleep has compounded an impending sense of doom brought on by bidding. We are currently in the eye of the storm, in the tumultous heart of trying to figure out where we will go when our time in India is up. Initially, the process was rather anti-climactic. I emailed my interest in four jobs and then.....waited.
I even tricked myself into thinking this bidding things wasn't so bad after all.
Then the first "No" rolled in, and I quickly realized I needed to get thicker skin. I confided in one of my favorite colleagues at another post who counselled me to "not fret the rejection.You're gainfully employed."
I'm taking this advice to heart. I know on some level everything will work out, but the not knowing is a killer. Probably way more so for Elise than me.
The hardest part of it all will be to keep the anxiety from affecting the kids. I ran nine miles on Sunday morning and immediately felt better, liked I had been wrapped in a cloak of calm. I played Twister with the kids. We sat on the floor in the sun room for the long time, playing Legos, putting together Pete's Z-95 Starfighter. We ordered pizza and watched "Horton Hears a Who".
No one wants to hear "no" unless they're asking their doctor if they have a communicable disease. Part of me feels like I'm perfectly suited for this job. I've worked harder at this job than any I have ever had before, and I feel like in a short amount of time, I have had some impressive accomplishments. It's hard to think that maybe someone thinks I may not be perfectly suited for this job, that I need to work even harder, or that my impressive accomplishments may not be so impressive,
Dealing with disappointment is a true character builder. I need to remember that. And I also need to remember that no matter what happens, I will still be drawing a paycheck and that there are always three little people who expect nothing more from me than to keep building legos.
Now, I have my second interview this evening.
Wish me luck.
No no no. Oh not with the interview! With keeping Clementine in her bed tonight!
Elise asked me last night why I put the pineapple in the sink.
"Huh?"
"Yeah. You put the pineapple in the sink. It had the lid on it."
Oh boy.
Clementine and our nanny, Mrs. Rita, took it upon themselves to move Clementine's crib out from under the mosquito netting and to replace it with her "big girl bed", making it her primary sleeping spot. Before, she would only occasionally nap in her big girl bed, but now she was sleeping in it every night.
She turns three on Sunday, so this may seem like a natural time to make this transition, but Clementine is still a little spoiled in some ways. Only up until very recently did we ever force her to go to sleep in her own bed. Call us lazy. Call us exhausted. Call us giving in to the wills of the youngest child. Call it what you will, I let Clementine fall asleep in my spot in our bed. After she was fast asleep, I would gently move her into her own bed.
Now, we are attempting to get her to fall asleep in her own bed. This isn't without some resistance. Elise lies with her to help her fall asleep. I lie on the floor next to her, my head on a couch cushion. Invariably, she wakes in the middle of the night, sneaks out of her bed and into our room. Once, I caught her headed downstairs.
Yesterday, after not falling asleep until 10:00 p.m., she woke at 3:30 a.m. and never fell back to sleep. I craddled her back to sleep on the couch, but when I attempted to move her back to her own bed, she woke, complaining, "I can't sleep." Au contrare, my dear Clementine, you were just asleep! Then, I laid down next to her in her own toddler bed (yes, it is about as comfortable as it sounds; my feet propped up on the hard, wooden footboard). She fell asleep (again), but when I attempted to extract myself from her bed (still difficult even though I've been doing more sit-ups. Imagine a contortionist unfolding oneself from a small, glass box in front of a crowd on the Boardwalk), she woke up again, still complaining, "I just can't sleep." But you were just sleeping! Again!
Elise and I keep telling ourselves she will get better at staying in her bed. Clinging to this hope is about the only thing that isn't keeping us from running down the road, screaming.
After staying up with Clementine from 3:30 until the boys woke up at 6:00, I felt like my skin was crawling. My insides were churning, and my skin couldn't hold everything in. I felt like I would overflow and burst. I thought I would scream. As Sundar drove me to work, it took every molecule of my being to calm myself, to keep from flinging open the car door and go running mad into the busy, Chennai streets. I needed to run, but I left my running shoes at home. What a fool.
The lack of sleep has compounded an impending sense of doom brought on by bidding. We are currently in the eye of the storm, in the tumultous heart of trying to figure out where we will go when our time in India is up. Initially, the process was rather anti-climactic. I emailed my interest in four jobs and then.....waited.
I even tricked myself into thinking this bidding things wasn't so bad after all.
Then the first "No" rolled in, and I quickly realized I needed to get thicker skin. I confided in one of my favorite colleagues at another post who counselled me to "not fret the rejection.You're gainfully employed."
I'm taking this advice to heart. I know on some level everything will work out, but the not knowing is a killer. Probably way more so for Elise than me.
The hardest part of it all will be to keep the anxiety from affecting the kids. I ran nine miles on Sunday morning and immediately felt better, liked I had been wrapped in a cloak of calm. I played Twister with the kids. We sat on the floor in the sun room for the long time, playing Legos, putting together Pete's Z-95 Starfighter. We ordered pizza and watched "Horton Hears a Who".
No one wants to hear "no" unless they're asking their doctor if they have a communicable disease. Part of me feels like I'm perfectly suited for this job. I've worked harder at this job than any I have ever had before, and I feel like in a short amount of time, I have had some impressive accomplishments. It's hard to think that maybe someone thinks I may not be perfectly suited for this job, that I need to work even harder, or that my impressive accomplishments may not be so impressive,
Dealing with disappointment is a true character builder. I need to remember that. And I also need to remember that no matter what happens, I will still be drawing a paycheck and that there are always three little people who expect nothing more from me than to keep building legos.
Now, I have my second interview this evening.
Wish me luck.
No no no. Oh not with the interview! With keeping Clementine in her bed tonight!
No comments:
Post a Comment