Really, the title of this post should be about all I need to write. It’s certainly reflective of the mental capacity that I have right now…
Last night was rough. Cricket is a pretty good sleeper, as in, she enjoys sleeping for large chunks of time. Those hours where she’s out are wonderful; the problem is that she also has chunks of wakefulness, too, and sometimes they come at inopportune times — like when I want to be sleeping. We’re working toward a three-hour Babywise cycle (eat-play-sleep), which was very helpful with getting E.V. to sleep through the night early on, but it’s taking a bit longer with Kit. Yesterday evening I didn’t realize she had fallen asleep in my arms during what should’ve been a wakeful period, and thus her whole night was thrown off — meaning that my whole night was thrown off. I was frustrated and exhausted and thankful that Ryan was home because he ended up having a Daddy-Cricket slumber party in the nursery so I could actually sleep. Then, today, like a little angel, she went right back to her three-hour schedule all day like nothing had even happened. Go figure.
The hardest part of having a newborn and a toddler isn’t necessarily that you don’t get to sleep at all; it’s that you don’t get to sleep for longer than an hour or so at a time. I covet my eight-hours a night, and I miss them desperately. I’ve taken to what I call black-out naps, where I lay down and pass out immediately, only to awake in a confused panic. It’s happening more and more recently, and unfortunately the panic I awake to is usually accompanied by some sort of verbal exclamation (Where am I? What day is it? What happened to the baby? I overslept! Oh, no! Help!). Thankfully no one’s usually there to witness my temporary insanities, but it’s still scary…and hilarious.
The worst part about not getting any quality sleep? There’s no way anyone can really help. The truth is, as a mom, that little mental watchdog is always awake and aware in your mind, and even if someone is gracious enough to have a Daddy-Daughter sleepover in the other room, you’ll still lie awake listening to him comfort the baby, wondering if you should just go in there. I mean, it’s your job, right? Even if you know someone else is watching your baby, you’ll still check the monitor to make sure she’s alright. You’ll still stir every time she stirs. You’ll still pop out of bed instinctively at the first tiny peep she makes. The reality is that there’s no rest for a mom, even when you do, in theory, have a moment to yourself. Sigh.
Okay, enough lamenting about sleepless nights and restless minds. The truth is, it’s worth it, and that’s the silver lining here. I’d give up every moment of sleep for the rest of my life in order to make Cricket happy, so I suppose a few months is nothing in comparison to that. (If only it felt that way at 3 a.m.! Ha!)
