Due to the amount of sleep that mommy is getting (NONE) and the security level of mommy's sanity (CODE RED) Monkeypants' bedtime has been moved up thirty minutes from 8pm to 730.
Because that one half hour will change the course of my night.
Don't get me wrong-I still feel like a totall meanie head for it-but God knows if I don't get some sleep sometime in the near vacinity of SOON I'm going to pass out into a pile of diapers. [What? They're clean.]
Last night the Baby Bug slept for-literally-10 minutes at a time from midnight until 8 am this morning. What that means is that just as soon as I was done nursing her I had exactly enough time to burp her, put her in her bassinet, and lay my head on the pillow before she would start doing her little kitten mew...which is cute, to be sure, but is also a signal that she is going to explode into a cacophany of major screaming if I don't pick her up in the next minute or so.
So I pick her up-don't want to wake up Daddy. I mean, I may have fanatsies about giving him a million tiny papercuts all over his stupid-sleeping-body....but as long as he was still able to sleep I know he wouldn't mind.
Honestly, I am not prone to day dreaming about physically harming my husband. I actually like him a whole lot. It's just hard to remember that when I haven't slept in 10 months and I am rocking our gassy newborn to the sound of the UNGODLY-LOUD snoring of a man who sleeps a whole 8 hours a night.
About once an hour I find myself laying between Hubby McSawmill and Baby Cries A Lot thinking about "accidentally" bashing my husband in the face until he wakes up...or, more passive agressively, pretending to be asleep until the sounds of our wailing children (since Baby Bug would undoubtedly wake up Monkeypants) arouse him from his dreamy night-night land. But alas, I feel guilty even thinking the thoughts, so I always get up with Her Royal Poopiness.
After I do though, I am always glad I did. There is something so sweet and happy about midnight feedings. It's like a special time for just me and her where we can snuggle and whisper together until she falls asleep happy in my arms. Then I can look at my baby when she's at her cutest (all children are at their cutest when they are sleeping) and admire the way her little hand curls over my finger and the way she sticks out her teeny tiny tongue in her sleep just like a baby kitten. It's then that I have time to think about how wonderful my children are, how smart and beautiful they both are, how I couldn't live without them. I think about my husband, and how blessed I am to have such an amazing lover, partner, and best friend. I can revel in the thoughts of what a great daddy he is and think about how wonderful it will be to grow old together and someday see the faces of our own little grandchildren-the children of my own precious babies!
Then I lay our girl in her sweet little bassinet, lay my head on the pillow...and once again hear the sounds of an imminently screaming baby. At which point I start wondering if I give Hubby a papercut on his nose if it will wake him or be just enough to get the snoring to stop.
1 comment:
this was sooo funny! i know exactly what you're talking about with a snoring LOUDLY, husband sleeping nice and sound while you're trying to get a fussy baby to go back to sleep. how the heck is that possible with the horrible sounds coming out of this sleeping giant? papercuts, hmmm, that's an idea! :0)
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