I find it absolutely adorable when Hila slips Hebrew into her everyday English speech -- ("Slicha chair," she says as she moves her chair out of the way) -- but because I want to make sure that she speaks both languages fluently and separately, I usually correct her Hebrew by repeating back what she said in English.
There are a few exceptions, though. A few words that I think make more sense in Hebrew than in English. There are a few, but the only one that comes to mind right now is the word "tapuz."
We're teaching Hila her colors (at home in English and at gan she's learning them in Hebrew), and I think it's very confusing that an orange (the fruit) is called by its color. Why doesn't it get its own name like every other fruit? And anyways, tapuz is such a nice sounding word and Hila says it beautifully.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Funny Goose!
Hila is a smart kid -- we all know that -- but today she said something which to me was exceptionally perceptive. We were reading Jamberry, and when we got to the page with the goose on it, Hila said, "Funny goose!" She MEANT to say silly goose, what I always say when we get to the goose and what I've started calling Hila when she's silly. But she must've forgotten the exact expression, and so tried to reason through it, and came up with funny goose. To me this showed a level of understanding and thought that I didn't really know she was capable of.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Bye-bye bottle
In the last few days, Hila has gone from 2-5 bottles per day to about one. She used to have one in the morning, one at nap-time, and one at bed-time without fail. Sometimes the one from the morning would last until nap time (which is why I say sometimes 2) and sometimes she'd NEED one in the afternoon (4) and sometimes she'd drink her night-time bottle, NOT fall asleep, and then cry until we give her yet another bottle (5).
The doctor told us on Sunday that we should really be brushing her teeth and then putting her to bed without a bottle of milk (water is fine). That night we took it away. Over the last few weeks we've been re-introducing the pacifier to Hila so that when we finally got the guts to take away her bottle, she wouldn't miss it too terribly.
That night she cried for half an hour, we went in to calm her down, she cried for another half hour, we went in to calm her down, and then finally she went to sleep. WITHOUT A BOTTLE. [Note: We'd tried taking away her in-bed bottle for AGES, but always succumbed to Hila-pressure.]
The next day, Hila was starting a new gan where she'd be sleeping on a mat on the floor -- something she'd never done before. We didn't want the adjustment to be too difficult, so we sent her with a bottle. She slept on the mat successfully.
That night, she went to sleep without a bottle AND without crying (with her Pooh and her pacifier). The next day, the gannenet forgot to give Hila her bottle at nap-time, and Hila slept! That night, a few tears, but no bottle. And today, she went to gan and we didn't even bother sending her a bottle.
The thing is, is that now she's not really drinking any milk. We give her the morning bottle, but she's really not that interested. And before bed we give her a bottle to drink before brushing teeth, and she needs a little convincing to drink it. I think she's having enough, it's just funny that just a few days ago we were trying so so hard to cut back on her milk intake, and now we need to try and boost it.
P.S. Hila's new gan is in Hebrew and apparently Hila is a model child who does whatever she is expected to do...including sleeping on a mat on the floor, a feat I had thought impossible for my sleep-in-crib-only baby.
The doctor told us on Sunday that we should really be brushing her teeth and then putting her to bed without a bottle of milk (water is fine). That night we took it away. Over the last few weeks we've been re-introducing the pacifier to Hila so that when we finally got the guts to take away her bottle, she wouldn't miss it too terribly.
That night she cried for half an hour, we went in to calm her down, she cried for another half hour, we went in to calm her down, and then finally she went to sleep. WITHOUT A BOTTLE. [Note: We'd tried taking away her in-bed bottle for AGES, but always succumbed to Hila-pressure.]
The next day, Hila was starting a new gan where she'd be sleeping on a mat on the floor -- something she'd never done before. We didn't want the adjustment to be too difficult, so we sent her with a bottle. She slept on the mat successfully.
That night, she went to sleep without a bottle AND without crying (with her Pooh and her pacifier). The next day, the gannenet forgot to give Hila her bottle at nap-time, and Hila slept! That night, a few tears, but no bottle. And today, she went to gan and we didn't even bother sending her a bottle.
The thing is, is that now she's not really drinking any milk. We give her the morning bottle, but she's really not that interested. And before bed we give her a bottle to drink before brushing teeth, and she needs a little convincing to drink it. I think she's having enough, it's just funny that just a few days ago we were trying so so hard to cut back on her milk intake, and now we need to try and boost it.
P.S. Hila's new gan is in Hebrew and apparently Hila is a model child who does whatever she is expected to do...including sleeping on a mat on the floor, a feat I had thought impossible for my sleep-in-crib-only baby.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
It's not pretty. (Or is it?)
While we were walking home from gan today, Hila approached a dead plant and said, "Pretty. Pretty." And then continued to walk right past the very beautiful flower that was growing beside it.
It reminded me of this poem, one of my favorites:
I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.
it was the first time I'd
realized
that.
by: Charles Bukowski
It reminded me of this poem, one of my favorites:
I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.
it was the first time I'd
realized
that.
by: Charles Bukowski
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Why I didn't go to the gym today
(or, All because of my missing sunglasses)
I guess I sort of gave that one away. Here's the complete (and really not very interesting) story:
Hila and I (Hila first) woke up at around 7:15. I got H dressed and then got dressed myself into my gym clothes so I could go straight to my aerobics class (8:30) after I dropped off Hila. We had plenty of time, so I sat down to check my email and Hila played for a while (ripping up toilet paper, putting it into a plastic cup, and then dumping it onto a plate--over and over and over again). Things were going smoothly, until Hila decided (as usual) that she wanted an eggy. I opened the fridge, she took out an egg, and SPLAT.
Delay #1. Had to clean up a smashed egg from the floor.
Then I made an omelet for Hila (like we do every morning), and I was going to put it in a baggy for her to bring to gan, but she insisted that she eat it NOW.
Delay #2. Hila eats her eggy.
It's getting close to 8:30, so we better get out the door so I can make it to my class. (P.S. In my month of belonging to the gym, I have never missed my two classes per week minimum--I've also never exceeded it, but whatever.)
My sunglasses are always in one of a few places--on the buffet, in whatever bag I was using the day before, on the kitchen table, or on the dining room table. When I found that they were in none of the places, I started to panic. HOW ON EARTH am I going to leave the house without my sunglasses? AND WHY, OH WHY, do I not have a backup pair?
Delay #3. I can't find my sunglasses.
This has actually never happened. I completely COULD NOT find them. And if you know me AT ALL (really), you know that I do not leave the house, rain or shine (but especially Middle East summer shine) without my sunglasses (for medical/visual reasons, mainly).
8:30 approaches and I figure if I run out now, I can still get to my class by 8:45, which is really not too late considering that it always starts late anyways.
I put on a hat to shield my unprotected eyes and decide to brave the sun, seeing that I don't really have any other choice.
On my way down the stairs, I decide to stop at our new neighbor/friend's house--maybe yesterday when we were hanging out, my sunglasses ended up with them (not that I would ever be that careless with something so precious).
While they didn't have my sunglasses, they did offer me a pair of theirs...and a cup of coffee.
Delay #4. Liat offered me coffee, and Hila clearly wanted to stay and watch Teletubbies with Avigayil.
At that point, it was too late to make it to the gym anyways, so I figured I may as well turn my calm-turned-frantic morning back into a calm morning.
And that's why I didn't go to the gym this morning.
Meanwhile, I just found my sunglasses. They were on a side table under my bandana. And now I'll have to go to the gym tomorrow morning...on a Friday. Ugh.
I guess I sort of gave that one away. Here's the complete (and really not very interesting) story:
Hila and I (Hila first) woke up at around 7:15. I got H dressed and then got dressed myself into my gym clothes so I could go straight to my aerobics class (8:30) after I dropped off Hila. We had plenty of time, so I sat down to check my email and Hila played for a while (ripping up toilet paper, putting it into a plastic cup, and then dumping it onto a plate--over and over and over again). Things were going smoothly, until Hila decided (as usual) that she wanted an eggy. I opened the fridge, she took out an egg, and SPLAT.
Delay #1. Had to clean up a smashed egg from the floor.
Then I made an omelet for Hila (like we do every morning), and I was going to put it in a baggy for her to bring to gan, but she insisted that she eat it NOW.
Delay #2. Hila eats her eggy.
It's getting close to 8:30, so we better get out the door so I can make it to my class. (P.S. In my month of belonging to the gym, I have never missed my two classes per week minimum--I've also never exceeded it, but whatever.)
My sunglasses are always in one of a few places--on the buffet, in whatever bag I was using the day before, on the kitchen table, or on the dining room table. When I found that they were in none of the places, I started to panic. HOW ON EARTH am I going to leave the house without my sunglasses? AND WHY, OH WHY, do I not have a backup pair?
Delay #3. I can't find my sunglasses.
This has actually never happened. I completely COULD NOT find them. And if you know me AT ALL (really), you know that I do not leave the house, rain or shine (but especially Middle East summer shine) without my sunglasses (for medical/visual reasons, mainly).
8:30 approaches and I figure if I run out now, I can still get to my class by 8:45, which is really not too late considering that it always starts late anyways.
I put on a hat to shield my unprotected eyes and decide to brave the sun, seeing that I don't really have any other choice.
On my way down the stairs, I decide to stop at our new neighbor/friend's house--maybe yesterday when we were hanging out, my sunglasses ended up with them (not that I would ever be that careless with something so precious).
While they didn't have my sunglasses, they did offer me a pair of theirs...and a cup of coffee.
Delay #4. Liat offered me coffee, and Hila clearly wanted to stay and watch Teletubbies with Avigayil.
At that point, it was too late to make it to the gym anyways, so I figured I may as well turn my calm-turned-frantic morning back into a calm morning.
And that's why I didn't go to the gym this morning.
Meanwhile, I just found my sunglasses. They were on a side table under my bandana. And now I'll have to go to the gym tomorrow morning...on a Friday. Ugh.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Talking, not babbling
I have a theory, and it's for my professional, speech-therapist sister-in-law Shira to confirm.
Hila was never really a babbler. She never really babbled long strings of unrecognizable speech. She was/is always very particular with her words, and while she may say "more" or "pizza" or "bottle" a thousand times in a row, she won't just say "oogleyboogedygrabelygoogoogaga."
Recently, however, Hila has begun using longer and sort of unrecognizable strings of words.
But--and here's my theory--I don't think she's babbling; I think she's talking. In other words, it was never in her nature to just make long strings of weird sounds, so why should she start now after she already has grasped the concept of real speech? I think that she really thinks she is speaking. There are real words in her strings of nonsense, and she seems to be speaking carefully, like she's really thought about what she wants to say and has chosen words accordingly.
So Hila talks, not babbles. Just sayin'.
In other news, Menachem is in miluim and we all really miss him. Just 5 days, but still. Hila must have asked for her daddy a million times today. And the other day I asked her to bring me a book, and instead she brought me a picture of Menachem, pointing to him and saying daddy. (She's now sleeping with the picture in her crib.)
New words: Yeerio (Cheerio), I yuh-oo(I love you).
Hila was never really a babbler. She never really babbled long strings of unrecognizable speech. She was/is always very particular with her words, and while she may say "more" or "pizza" or "bottle" a thousand times in a row, she won't just say "oogleyboogedygrabelygoogoogaga."
Recently, however, Hila has begun using longer and sort of unrecognizable strings of words.
But--and here's my theory--I don't think she's babbling; I think she's talking. In other words, it was never in her nature to just make long strings of weird sounds, so why should she start now after she already has grasped the concept of real speech? I think that she really thinks she is speaking. There are real words in her strings of nonsense, and she seems to be speaking carefully, like she's really thought about what she wants to say and has chosen words accordingly.
So Hila talks, not babbles. Just sayin'.
In other news, Menachem is in miluim and we all really miss him. Just 5 days, but still. Hila must have asked for her daddy a million times today. And the other day I asked her to bring me a book, and instead she brought me a picture of Menachem, pointing to him and saying daddy. (She's now sleeping with the picture in her crib.)
New words: Yeerio (Cheerio), I yuh-oo(I love you).
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Hila is strange.
Wow, this has potential to be a long post.
Three things off the top of my head.
Three things off the top of my head.
- Hila is obsessed with ice. She wakes up in the morning asking (or crying) for ice. When we finally give in and give it to her, she holds it in her hand until it melts. Yeah, I know. Weird. Also a bit medically unsettling--don't her hands get cold?
- When you ask Hila to give you five, she'll hit your hand (correctly) and then hit herself in the head.
- Hila has eaten raw onion and raw zucchini, after insisting that it was apple, and then instead of being disapointed, asked for more. (When I do give her apples, she's always really excited, but then just holds it--she never really eats it.)
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
The balance of an old person
About a year ago I took the Wii balance test. At the time I was 28 and the results revealed that I had the balance of a 49-year-old. Now that I am 29, I'm assuming that my balance score has exponentially increased to (I'm going to actually do this math problem...hold on)...not sure if I did that right...but I now have the balance of a 51-year-old. At this rate, when I actually AM 51, I'll have the balance of a...hold on...89.25-year-old.
Anyways, my lack of balance has only recently been reinforced as I've joined the gym across the street that is attended mostly by middle-aged and older women, who all seem to have equal or better balance than I do.
This also brings me to another point I've been wanted to share for a long time, and that is: Why I am so bad at yoga.
You wouldn't know this from watching me in a yoga class, but I've been taking yoga on and off for many, many years. Yet I'm still no good at it. There are two reasons for this...no three.
All that being said, I really do love yoga. I really do believe that while practicing yoga you're competing against no one but yourself. I suck at yoga--always have and always will--but that's not to say that I haven't made very slight progress since I started so long ago.
Meanwhile, I haven't actually gone to a yoga class in the last year since my yoga teacher--here's a shout out to Jodi--moved to America. :(
Wow, a whole post without mentioning Hila--that's not right. So here: My new favorite Hila-ism is "oots" or "ootsy"--for "whoops" or "whoopsy." Ok, now I feel better.
Anyways, my lack of balance has only recently been reinforced as I've joined the gym across the street that is attended mostly by middle-aged and older women, who all seem to have equal or better balance than I do.
This also brings me to another point I've been wanted to share for a long time, and that is: Why I am so bad at yoga.
You wouldn't know this from watching me in a yoga class, but I've been taking yoga on and off for many, many years. Yet I'm still no good at it. There are two reasons for this...no three.
- As mentioned above, I have the balance of someone at least 20 years my senior. As people age, their balance deteriorates. You do the math (or look at mine above).
- I am just not flexible.
- I have short arms. For real. It runs in my family. Golds have short arms--it's just a slight disability that we've all learned to live with. Basically it means that we can't reach our toes so easily. Poses like half-moon, down-dog, and cow-face, therefore, are difficult. And since #1 rules out tree, eagle, and warrior III, I'm not left with too many doable postures.
All that being said, I really do love yoga. I really do believe that while practicing yoga you're competing against no one but yourself. I suck at yoga--always have and always will--but that's not to say that I haven't made very slight progress since I started so long ago.
Meanwhile, I haven't actually gone to a yoga class in the last year since my yoga teacher--here's a shout out to Jodi--moved to America. :(
Wow, a whole post without mentioning Hila--that's not right. So here: My new favorite Hila-ism is "oots" or "ootsy"--for "whoops" or "whoopsy." Ok, now I feel better.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
We just can't kick the bottle...
The last few nights have been tough on all of us. We've tried putting Hila to bed without her bottle of milk. There was one successful night, but the others have just ended in tears. Lots of tears. And lots of bottles.
Her not-really-sleeping-through-the-night phase actually started before we started trying to break her of her bottle habit. We think either she was teething (though we still haven't seen new teeth) or that she was constipated (good thing Hila likes prune juice). So I guess looking back it wasn't a good time to spring something new on her, but I sort of thought that since she was having trouble sleeping through the night anyways, maybe now actually WOULD be a good time to sort of double up on an annoyance. Why wait until everything is smooth sailing to THEN throw another curve ball at her?
In any case, Hila has not been sleeping so well lately...with or without the bottle. She'll go to sleep well, but then wake up a few times in the night and refuse to be put back in her crib until she's tossed and turned in our bed (quite violently) for some time and built some block towers in the living room.
The other night she INSISTED on hugging the dish soap for a little while. Today, during an almost-tantrum (she's never had a full-blown tantrum, just almost-tantrums), she again insisted on hugging the soap, but then I had to take it away (more tears) when I saw her sneaking a nip at the nozzle.
That was one little fight we had. We had another fight the other day when I told her that she can only eat unwrapped cheese triangles (which of course she did not want) and not the foil-wrapped ones (which she squeezed so hard in an effort to not let me get them that I had to throw them out). She doesn't really like cheese anyways; I don't know why I even tried.
She made me think of Sandra Boynton's What's Wrong Little Pookie? last night when she was crying and crying and crying and I kept asking her what was wrong and if she wanted X, Y, or Z, and she kept saying "no" in such a small, sad voice. Finally she said she wanted her daddy, which was good timing because he was on his way up the stairs at that point (he had been out watching "the game").
But don't worry, it's not all tears and sleepless nights around here. After all, there are the glorious mornings that follow these nights when we all sleep in til 8:30...9:00...and later. The other day we had to wake Hila up at 11:30.
She loves her baths more than...pretty much anything. She loves her bottles. She loves cereal (so much that sometimes that's all she eats all day). She loves the ABCs and Old McDonald. She loves jumping. She loves reading. And she loves her naps--she's about to hit 3 hours as I write this.
Today we went to a Mommy&Me shiur (I'm hosting next week, by the way) and we passed the pizza shop on Palmach. She started shouting "pizza! pizza!" She and her daddy go there a lot on their way home from gan.
Wake up, Hila, so we can play!
Her not-really-sleeping-through-the-night phase actually started before we started trying to break her of her bottle habit. We think either she was teething (though we still haven't seen new teeth) or that she was constipated (good thing Hila likes prune juice). So I guess looking back it wasn't a good time to spring something new on her, but I sort of thought that since she was having trouble sleeping through the night anyways, maybe now actually WOULD be a good time to sort of double up on an annoyance. Why wait until everything is smooth sailing to THEN throw another curve ball at her?
In any case, Hila has not been sleeping so well lately...with or without the bottle. She'll go to sleep well, but then wake up a few times in the night and refuse to be put back in her crib until she's tossed and turned in our bed (quite violently) for some time and built some block towers in the living room.
The other night she INSISTED on hugging the dish soap for a little while. Today, during an almost-tantrum (she's never had a full-blown tantrum, just almost-tantrums), she again insisted on hugging the soap, but then I had to take it away (more tears) when I saw her sneaking a nip at the nozzle.
That was one little fight we had. We had another fight the other day when I told her that she can only eat unwrapped cheese triangles (which of course she did not want) and not the foil-wrapped ones (which she squeezed so hard in an effort to not let me get them that I had to throw them out). She doesn't really like cheese anyways; I don't know why I even tried.
She made me think of Sandra Boynton's What's Wrong Little Pookie? last night when she was crying and crying and crying and I kept asking her what was wrong and if she wanted X, Y, or Z, and she kept saying "no" in such a small, sad voice. Finally she said she wanted her daddy, which was good timing because he was on his way up the stairs at that point (he had been out watching "the game").
But don't worry, it's not all tears and sleepless nights around here. After all, there are the glorious mornings that follow these nights when we all sleep in til 8:30...9:00...and later. The other day we had to wake Hila up at 11:30.
She loves her baths more than...pretty much anything. She loves her bottles. She loves cereal (so much that sometimes that's all she eats all day). She loves the ABCs and Old McDonald. She loves jumping. She loves reading. And she loves her naps--she's about to hit 3 hours as I write this.
Today we went to a Mommy&Me shiur (I'm hosting next week, by the way) and we passed the pizza shop on Palmach. She started shouting "pizza! pizza!" She and her daddy go there a lot on their way home from gan.
Wake up, Hila, so we can play!
Monday, May 03, 2010
The Only Thing Better than One Hila, is Two Hilas
Yesterday, while Hila and I were checking out the new H&M at Kenyon Malcha, Hila made a new friend.
Hila has seen herself in mirrors before, but somehow, this full length mirror at H&M totally snuck up on her. She was running around H&M looking at all the pretty clothes ("so pitty!") when all of a sudden she saw a beautiful little girl opposite her. She stopped, stared, and then kept walking. But wait--where'd that girl go? she must have been thinking, because then she turned back and went to the mirror again. VOILA! Her friend appeared, delighted to see her. She responded in equal delight. She kept slinking away slowly, and then quickly reappearing to find a very excited reflection in the mirror. She struck different poses...and so did Hila #2! She put her hands on the floor and then put her hands in the air...and so did her friend! She hugged and kissed and talked to her new friend, while strangers walked by laughing at her discovery.
Then she walked away and bumped into a rack of clothes, fell down, and cried. Game over.
Hila has seen herself in mirrors before, but somehow, this full length mirror at H&M totally snuck up on her. She was running around H&M looking at all the pretty clothes ("so pitty!") when all of a sudden she saw a beautiful little girl opposite her. She stopped, stared, and then kept walking. But wait--where'd that girl go? she must have been thinking, because then she turned back and went to the mirror again. VOILA! Her friend appeared, delighted to see her. She responded in equal delight. She kept slinking away slowly, and then quickly reappearing to find a very excited reflection in the mirror. She struck different poses...and so did Hila #2! She put her hands on the floor and then put her hands in the air...and so did her friend! She hugged and kissed and talked to her new friend, while strangers walked by laughing at her discovery.
Then she walked away and bumped into a rack of clothes, fell down, and cried. Game over.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Some Random Thoughts
- For Tal Bagels' sake, they should mix their salads more thoroughly. Yesterday I ordered a salad that was supposed to have avocado in it but as I started digging around in the heaping pile of boring lettuce, I saw nothing. I called the waitress over and pointed to "avocado" on the menu and said that my salad was missing this key ingredient. She brought over a nice side plate filled with sliced avocado for me to add to my salad and said that she'll give me the extra, but that there is avocado in the salad. I fished deeper into the lettuce pile and found a huge amount of avocado hiding underneath. I lucked out!
- I love sharing my birthday with Hila. I had so much fun yesterday singing "Happy Birthday to Us" and telling our waiter at Roladin that it was both of our birthdays. (He came back with a sparkler in our cake.) So how did we celebrate? On Shabbat we had a little bday party/seudat shlishit in the park in Modiin and then on our proper birthday we went to Roladin and had cake. Hila ate her cheesecake using a cinnamon stick I had given her from my hot cider. She's adorable.
- We are going to Rome in a week and a half for four days and then to New York for 10 days and then to Miami for seven weeks and then to Orlando for one week (Pesach). And I am SOOOOO excited!!
- I am a very lucky person.
- For example, I have lost another few pounds! I have about 9 lbs to go until I hit my pre-wedding weight! (I already hit pre-baby weight a few pounds ago.)
- Another example: I have lost that weight despite the fact that I have a serious chocolate addiction and continue to eat unnormally large amounts of Clusters and milk.
- But really I am lucky because I have an amazing family, both the one I came from and the one I am working to create, and the best friends ever. I realized that I missed my twisted bowel-versary this year (Jan. 20). Around this time of year I like to reflect on how precious life is and how wonderful my friends and family are.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sleeping though the Night with Earplugs
I used to think I had a bladder problem because I'd wake up once or twice to pee in the middle of the night. It was very frustrating.
But I realize now, after sleeping through the night for the last 2 weeks, that it wasn't a problem with my bladder, but rather an inability to stay asleep with the slightest bit of noise around me. Once I was up, I'd inevitably have to pee as I lay there anxiously trying to fall back asleep.
Such noises include a sometimes snoring husband (no names, to respect his privacy), our old lady neighbor's blaring TV that she keeps on through the night, cars honking, etc.
I put these magic little foam plugs into my ears and...silence. All night long, I get to sleep in a deep, cocoon of silence. I sleep so deeply that my body (bladder included) forgets that it has any other function to perform other than sleep.
"But Sarah," you may wonder, "what do you do about your 11-month old baby? Isn't Menachem (oh shoot, now you know who I was talking about before), like, the deepest sleeper ever?"
Thank God, Hila's got a healthy set of lungs. She makes sure that one of us wakes up when she's ready to play.
But I realize now, after sleeping through the night for the last 2 weeks, that it wasn't a problem with my bladder, but rather an inability to stay asleep with the slightest bit of noise around me. Once I was up, I'd inevitably have to pee as I lay there anxiously trying to fall back asleep.
Such noises include a sometimes snoring husband (no names, to respect his privacy), our old lady neighbor's blaring TV that she keeps on through the night, cars honking, etc.
I put these magic little foam plugs into my ears and...silence. All night long, I get to sleep in a deep, cocoon of silence. I sleep so deeply that my body (bladder included) forgets that it has any other function to perform other than sleep.
"But Sarah," you may wonder, "what do you do about your 11-month old baby? Isn't Menachem (oh shoot, now you know who I was talking about before), like, the deepest sleeper ever?"
Thank God, Hila's got a healthy set of lungs. She makes sure that one of us wakes up when she's ready to play.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
LinkWithin
