I'm at my wittiest of wits' ends right now. You know, the kind where you're on a non-stop flight to Crazytown, but you choose to laugh about it because the only other option is to cry. And you're a really ugly crier.
Pretty much all of yesterday was a study in the art of patience. And I got a C-. For both naps and her bedtime yesterday, Sally resisted going to sleep for over an hour each time. I'd go through our normal routine of rocking and singing some songs and then lay her down in her bed. But instead of going to sleep like the good little girl she's been for months now, she'd roll over and immediately begin climbing up the side of the bed. The first time I'd check on her, she'd be smiling, like in the above photo. All subsequent times, she'd be crying, exhausted. And attempting to rattle those crib bars, while successfully rattling what little sanity I had left. I mostly responded by picking her up, cradling her and singing her a song and then laying her on her back again --- only to see the immediate roll and crawl to the bars once again. Once I heard a strange growl of frustration come from somewhere (I can only assume it was me), and I realized which parent our girl gets her bear-like qualities from.
After an hour of battling my little cub last night, I sat at the bottom of the stairway, listening to her cries from her room just a few feet away. "Jooo?" Johnny yelled from upstairs. "What?" I said quietly. "What are you doing?" "Just sitting here. Waiting for her to stop crying." He convinced me to come upstairs, and greeted me with an "I'm sorry." "No," I replied, "this is a good reminder that we're never having any more children." He gave me one of his You're being dramatic looks. I'd almost forgotten my pact to never have more children that I'd made in the first three months of Sally's life. I'd gotten lulled away into thinking I was actually cut out for parenthood once Sally started napping and sleeping through the night and not crying for no reason. And just in case my future self does decide to go back on my pact in some future moment (See, I'm already wavering. I'm weak.), let this post serve as a reminder that some days are really hard.
And yet, I think you'll choose it all over again. And maybe again and again. But not again. Because even if it's hard sometimes, little Sal is the best choice you've ever made.
And by the way, Future Self, little Sally is napping peacefully in her lowered crib. And you're showered and dressed and happy.
5 comments:
I feel like I could write this exact post some days :)
Maybe we'll both be "crazy" enough to have kid #2 at some point in the future!!
Sometimes I feel like I've been battling Shep to sleep his whole life. Most of the time I lie down with him and it takes at least 20 minutes for him nursing to fall asleep. That's normal for him. Babies, huh?
Oh my, I know exactly how you feel. At least one day a week is like this for us. Every week.
I know everyone always blames everything on teething, but I feel like a lot of times when it starts happening every day it ends up being something like an ear infection or teething. And then I feel guilty that I was getting so mad at Dane when he was just sad/sick/in pain. Hope it gets better soon.
I'm sorry it's so hard! You're doing GREAT! And I love that you're able to keep a sense of humor and a good perspective through the tough times.
Great(!) post, Jo. I wish I wrote as well as you. This was worthy of a publication somewhere. You have a gift.
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