I know this is fleeting and I know it will end and I know I will forget this ever happened but I have to say it: WHY IS NO ONE IN MY HOUSE SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT? Except my husband, he's rather good at it. You guys, I am so tired. The kind of deep in your bones tired that one night of good sleep won't even touch. Not only is Chloe up two or three times a night to eat but now Noah is waking up two or three times a night and they're ALTERNATING HOURS. He comes padding into our room, pokes me in the FACE and says "I wost my bwankie/I hafta go potty/I need some water/what happened to Owen (the damn stuffed bear who he NEVER cares about until the middle of every night and is usually found in the space between his bed and the wall)?"
It goes like this:
7:00 pm: Baby nursed and fast asleep.
7:30 pm: Noah bathed and in bed, books being read.
8:00 pm: Lights out for Noah
8:09 pm: "I hafta go potty!" screamed from the top of the stairs. Note: he went potty after the bath.
8:22 pm: "I need some water!" No, he most surely does not.
9:00 pm: He's usually fallen asleep by now.
Sometime between 10 - 11 pm: Chloe's first wake-up. Nurses like she's never eaten before and then back down.
11:00 pm: I go to sleep. Finally.
12:00 am: Noah usually wakes up, comes into our room and proceeds to poke me until I wake up. Walk him back to his room, put him in bed, refuse to "just stay with me mommy and let's talk about my day."
2:00 am: Chloe's second wake-up. Nurses, chats a bit, thrashes around in her crib, passes back out.
3:00 am: Noah is up again. Same procedure as above.
4:00 am: Chloe may wake up again, may not. It's a really fun surprise every night.
5:00 am: Annnnnd there's Noah again. This one is usually the Wost Bwankie excuse. It's always tangled up in his covers.
5:30 am: Hello (f@*$ing) alarm.
6:00 am: She's up and screeching like a pterodactyl in her crib.
7:00 am: He's up and sobbing because he's soooooooo sweeeeppyyyyy, Mommmmmyyyyyyy. No shit, kid.
Lather, rinse, repeat. Keen minds will notice that we are missing a key player in all this: my husband. That man will sleep through a hurricane. The only way he'll get up is if I PUNCH him in the back and even then it'll take him at least five minutes to respond to whichever small person is causing the ruckus. By that time I could have gotten up and handled the issue so I usually do. Plus once I hear one of them squawking I'm already awake. I, sadly, do not have the Sleep Through The Madness And Then Wonder Why The Wife Is Crabby In The Morning gene.
This morning my boss took me aside and said "You know, if I'm ever out and you need to, I have a couch in my office that you can use for a little nap." I must really look like hell because I hadn't so much as mentioned how tired I was. Awesome.