The Tale of a Tired Boy

Before I tell you the tale of a tired boy I'll tell you a happier tale...One that starts with a husband and dad coming home to his family. Yes, Paul returned a little over a week ago and Tristan and I couldn't be happier. When he came home, I have to admit I was completely selfish with his time and had planned several things for us to do. The first thing I wanted to do was to have a walk/picnic with him in a new park I had discovered. It's my new favorite place as it has beautiful gardens, calming fountains, plenty of paths to discover and best of all it's in the quaintest little town(around every corner is seems to be a cafe with a gelato shop). So, we packed a lunch and had our picnic. Our first few days were very much like this, very relaxed, not so productive, but oh so nice just to have our family back together again. Since then we have gotten back to normal life, found out some new news, and dealing with new joys and pains.

I won't keep you in suspense any longer because I know your dying to know our new news. Lucky for you I'm one who has a difficult time keeping good news (or news at all) in...so the news is...we're expecting. That's right, Pauls momentous home coming was a little more productive than I let on. Our second little one will be coming soon, and little Tristan will have a little playmate before he knows it. Oh now, come pick your jaw off of the floor-I'm not really serious. I was just kidding. That's not the news at all. The real news is that Paul has to go back to the states for some training(about 6 weeks at Maxwell Air Base in Alabama), and so I decided that this would be a good time to see family and friends in Rochester. So, I soon will be returning to NY and hoping to see many of you!

The proud Papa with his little man(if your wondering what he's doing with his hand-he's sucking his thumb)

As much as I would like to say that this posting is all about the joys of having my husband home, you can tell by the title though, that it isn't the case. In this blog I will tell you a tale of a boy named Tristan, who is a fierce fighter and nightly battles the awful beast named Sleep. These battles sometimes go on for hours (this past Saturday he battled sleep for almost 9 hours). Sleep wasn't always the dreaded foe (you may remember that this is the same Tristan that used to sleep through everything and sleep for hours), but now (daily) the boy comes out of the crib with war wounds (scratches abound his sweet little face). Recently the battle between sleep and Tristan has become more fierce-as I am really trying to establish a pattern of him sleeping in his crib (I almost feel like that word-the "c" word must be spoken in hushed tones around Tristan as he dreads going inside and reacts as if he's being sent to the gas chamber. Today seemed to bring me back three months ago, when Tristan was brand new and I was often sleep deprived. These days I pray more than ever that Tristan will just get used to the crib and stop this daily battle. This tale hasn't ended yet, but hopefully it will end on a high note(with a son who wakes up with a smile on his face -in his crib no less). I could go on and on, but I'll bring my woes to a halt and show you the pictures that accompany this sad tale. I'm sure you'll think they are much more entertaining.

Here is Tristan just starting to show how tired he is (when he is tired he lifts up his legs but becomes too tired to roll over).

The second sign of exhaustion, he starts to suck on anything and everything(the first thing is often his fingers).

And of course, the notorious yawn.

His motions become slowed.

There's more sucking, and the eyelids begin to sag.

There's an abundance of funny faces(as he tries to show me that he is NOT tired).

This is one of the biggest tell tale signs of exhaustion-he can't lift his head.

Soon he gets to the point where he can only keep one eye opened.

His eyes are heavy, oh so heavy. He tries to hide it, but now there's no disguising it!

His head is now bobbing and eyelids are struggling to stay open.

Now he looks at me, and pleads with me(in a language only his mother knows) "Please Mom, please don't put me in the crib!"

In the end, I take this poor boy into the crib and then start the tears.

I hope this blog didn't sound too depressing or like a mother filled with self pity. I only ask one favor of all you readers out there...If you have any tips on getting your little one to bed(in the crib, I have no problems getting him to fall asleep in my arms or in my bed) PLEASE send them!