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I almost titled this post, “the night that momma went crazy” but then Adrianna went and did something really cute so I changed it.
Of course, there is a novel that you have to get through until the actual punch-line though, so get a glass of wine (it’s barely noon here, but hey, who am I to judge you?), settle into a comfy chair and shaddup because you know you’re going to read it anyway.
When Brock was a freshly-baked, out-of-the-oven baybah, Greg and I knew that we had gotten lucky. He slept approximately 18 hours/day, waking only to eat, poop & snuggle. He was sleeping through the night by 4 weeks. I had a horrible time with breast-feeding and ended up quitting after only 6 weeks, but once I got over my own if-breast-is-best-then-why-don’t-mine-want-to-cooperate-and-feed-my-child issues, we got along wonderfully. He hit all of his milestones early and was right on-track for his growth.
We felt like rock-star parents.
Around Brock’s second Halloween (he was about 14 months), we had a very stupid conversation. It went a little something like this:
Me: Aww, Brock is such a big boy now.
Greg: I know. I was just thinking about that the other day. He is walking and talking and everything.
Me: You know what we should do? We should have another baby!
Greg: Oh, great idea, hon! Brock is so easy. How hard could another one be?
Oh the sweet bliss of youthful ignorance.
We were incredibly lucky and I am prepared to dodge several taco-punches from my friends that have fertility issues when I say that with both kids all it took to get pregnant was to think about it & I was knocked-up. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t rewarded with 9 months of all-day sickness & heartburn from my throat down to my cankles, but conception? It was a breeze.
So we got pregnant with Adrianna and right away I knew I was in big trouble. My pregnancy with her was much more . . . let’s say, intense than it was with Brock. I knew right away that I was pregnant. The first time I tested, it was negative because it was too early. When I re-tested less than a week later, there was no doubt that it was positive. I felt kicks earlier. I had heartburn so badly that I carried a bottle of Tums with me at all times in addition to taking Zantac (per my OB’s instructions) every day along with my prenatal vitamins. I was nauseated 24/7. I started showing wayyyyy earlier. I had to be induced because she was causing so much trouble in the ute. The list goes on and on.
Some people might say that all of those “symptoms” can be attributed to various things like knowing-what-you-are-feeling-because-it’s-your-second-baby or muscle memory. However, I know my daughter and I know that she thinks her sole purpose in life is to torture me.
I’m mostly kidding.
Please don’t misunderstand. I love both of my kids with every ounce of my soul. I would literally take a bullet for them. I have gotten stitches in my ladybits because of them. But it’s a very strange dichotomy how you can love somebody so badly that your heart actually aches when they aren’t around, but to be so frustrated with them when they are around. I’m sure that it’s because our kids are exactly.like.their. parents. To the point that our parents just sit back and laugh. And, lemme tell you a little secret. I wasn’t a bad kid. Of course I got spanked & grounded my fair share of times, but honestly I wasn’t a bad kid. I never did drugs (scout’s honor), I did drink but I always had a DD and if I found out they had been drinking, I called my parents for a ride (true story). I never snuck out of the house. I think I broke curfew one time but I called ahead to let them know we were going to be a little late.
So, I’m not sure where all of this bad karma is coming from.
Both of my kids are like me, personality wise. (They are a lot like Greg, too. It’s weird what happens when you marry somebody that has so many of the same personality characteristics as you.) We are all stubborn, strong-willed, determined, passionate, etc. These are both good and bad. We love with all of our hearts but if you piss us off, we won’t let you forget anytime soon.
But one thing that my daughter and I don’t have in common?
The child doesn’t sleep.
That trait, I can say without objection, she 100% gets from her daddy.
When Greg and I were on our honeymoon, he would wake me up around 6am to let me know that he was awake and was bored and fortheloveofGod, woman when are you going to wake up?!
I almost killed him in Jamaica.
Even before we had kids, “sleeping in” was waking up around 8am because Greg was wide-awake and he was bored.
He would always say things to me like, “Daylight’s burnin’, woman! I’ve got shit to do!”
Me too! Like sleep and dream and stuff.
So when 7 pound, 0.5 oz. Brock came along, I thought, “Finally! Greg is outnumbered (those that love sleep-to-those that hate sleep) and he will be forced to be quiet so he doesn’t wake up the baby!”
Yeah, that sorta worked until Brock realized that Daddy would get up with him and let him eat cookies for breakfast & play with every loud toy in the house until Mommy would stumble into the living room grumbling about all that racket.
When we found out Adrianna was a girl, I (again, stupidly) thought, “Yay! With any luck, she will want to sleep in. Just like me!”
If I had a time machine, the first thing I would do would be to go back and kick my own ass for being so stupid.
My daughter is my clone in nearly every way except–you guessed it–she doesn’t sleep! I swear to all that is holy, having children has negated everything that I learned about genetics.
At nine months, she still wasn’t sleeping through the night. We later learned that because of chronic ear infections, she would require tubes so I guess I can give her a pass for that.
Sunday night, I thought I was having a flashback.
She first decided it was time for a crib-party at 11:00. I had just gotten into a good deep sleep. You know the kind where, if woken from, you jolt out of bed, totally disoriented and you accidentally wander into the bathroom and look in the toilet for your crying baby? Yeah, it was kinda exactly like that.
After much persuading, hair-stroking, bouncing, rocking, soft-singing & crying, she fell back asleep.
I got another wake-up call around 1:00.
Oh. Mah. Gawd.
Repeat: cuddling, swaying, lullabies, etc.
Again, the demon-child angel woke me up at 3:30.
At that point, I said f^ck it and gave her a sippy cup with milk.
Go ahead! Call the mommy police! I laid my child down with a cup of milk! But, you know what? I had to work the next day and I didn’t want her to wake up my other child who was sleeping and, thanks to Vicodin & sleeping pills, Greg was sawing logs in our bed, so he was no good to me.
I think I got about 3 solid hours of sleep Sunday night.
When Monday night rolled around, I was prepared. Both of the kids have seasonal allergies but they are too young to be tested and put on medication for it. So, we are stuck using cool-mist humidifiers, shower steams, & OTC meds like Zyrtec & Benadryl (obviously, under the supervision of their pediatrician). All I can say is thank goodness for Benadryl. It kept her from waking up because she was coughing from all of the drainage. It also knocked her out which is a definite bonus!
She didn’t go down without a fight though. Even as she was fading from the effects of the Benadryl, she was trying to climb out of my arms like a spider monkey. As a last-ditch effort to stay awake, every 5-10 seconds, she would grab my face and give me a big, slobbery kiss right on the mouth. Then she would lie her head back on my shoulder. When she realized she was drifting off again, she would snap her head up, grab my face & plant another big, juicy kiss on me. She must have done it at least 6 times before I finally started to laugh. Which made her giggle. Which made me laugh harder.
I am happy to report that the last two nights, she has been successfully sleeping through the night but she wakes up (almost) everyday before 6am.
I really wish I was kidding. This morning, it was 5:46 when I heard that first, “Heh! Mamamamamama! Heeeeeyyyyyy! Mamamamama! MAMAMAMAMAMAMA!”
It would be great to have an outside perspective on this. Is there some trick that I’m missing to get my sweet little daughter to consistently 1) sleep through the night & 2) sleep past 6am? We generally eat supper around 6ish followed by bath-time & then bedtime around 7:30. After dinner & baths, we play, read, etc.