Last week was brutal sleep-wise. Thanks to a certain toddler that resides in the Anxious home, I don’t think I fell asleep before 4AM any night last week.
The poor girl is cutting two molars right now, which has made her crankier than normal and has definitely affected her sleep. And when her sleep is affected, Mama’s sleep is affected more so than it usually is. I spent many nights rocking her throughout the night, as my arms are about the only place she’ll sleep much when she’s either sick or teething.
Do not tell me to “Cherish these days now, because one day…”
To hell with that.
There’s a lot I will miss. I will definitely miss rocking Baby Girl, who has needed someone to rock her to sleep since she’s been born, but I don’t think I’ll miss rocking her at 3:00 in the morning for the third night in a row, nor will I miss not going to bed until 6:40AM. I’d probably say that I’ll miss being spit up on or plain old vomited on before I say I miss that.
(Who the hell am I kidding, I’ll probably miss it all.)
It doesn’t help that she’s so funny when I’m rocking her. She’ll pretend to snore (I took a video of her pretend snoring yesterday, see below), shush me, stick her hands out of the blanket bag thing she sleeps in to go “Shhhhh, we sweeping!” And, of course, she’s the only one making any noise.
On the last rough night, my phone died, so it was up to my singing abilities to help ease her off into dreamland. I’m not a singer. In fact, I’m so not a singer that I was given a pity spot in our middle school chorus. No solo though, they didn’t pity me quite that badly. Pretty sure this is the reaction I would have gotten as I cycled through every song that I know at least 50 percent of the words to, which is not that many.
Towards the end, I started singing Darth Vader’s “Imperial March,” as much as one can sing that song anyway. It sounds pretty interesting if you put a lullabye spin on “Bum-bu-bu-bu-bu-bu-bu-bu-buhhh.”
Based on the last two nights — which she slept, and I actually slept for 8 hours, and it was amazing — it would appear that the hard part of her molars coming through is over. *Fingers crossed* Now if we could just get the child to, ya know, eat regular food like meat and vegetables, not punch her brother in the face, and transition from the last bottle (I swear, if anyone says she’s too old, we’re gonna have a come to Jesus meeting) and move away towards some of the rocking and get into a toddler bed. That’s my summer plans.
Speaking of summer plans, what are yours?