Friday, February 12, 2010

I know that I'll miss this someday, but not right now.

4:07--First wake-up call. Baby wake up sounds, including a variety of squeals, grunts, and moan-ish/grumbly sounds.
4:10--Sneak into Abby's room in hopes that she isn't really awake and my presence won't subsequently wake her up. Alas. She's already standing up watching and waiting expectantly. Sigh.
4:11-4:28--Change diaper. It's really full. Try to soothe child back into a somnolent state conducive to sleeping.
4:29--Leave room. Shut door firmly. Vow to not re-enter unless child is inconsolable.
4:29--Immediately re-enter room. Turn on music. Cross fingers that this works.
4:30--Ease back into bed. It's now cold. Become even more awake. Try to wedge legs back into position around cat. Cat halfheartedly blinks and goes back to her wheezy slumber.
4:30 through 5:00--Turn down monitor so that lullaby music does not blare into my room. Lay there thinking "Is the monitor turned up enough so that I can hear Abby if she cries?" Alternate between fiddling with monitor, hoping that baby makes noise so that you know you can hear her, and hoping that baby does not make noise so that you know she went back to sleep whereupon you can go back to sleep. Conundrum.
5:00--Glare at the clock. Know that it's only 1/2 an hour until the alarm goes off. Wonder why you bother.
5:03--Notice that the child has not made noise for a few minutes. Hold your breath for a moment. Then realize that you need to go to sleep. Now. While you have the chance.
5:04--Desperately wish for the furnace to turn on. Desperately hope for any hum that will drown out the sound of husband's breathing. Sigh. Tear up. Sigh again. You know that you can't request husband to not breath, but at the same desperately want to go back to sleep. Furnace starts. You realize that you only have 6 minutes to fall asleep. Effort begins in earnest.
5:30--Alarm goes off. You did, indeed, fall back asleep. What a lovely 25 minutes that was.
5:35--Husband sluggishly rolls out of bed while grating sounds of the alarm clock continue to wake you up more and more. Sigh again.
5:36--Roll over. You can finally sleep on your left side since heavy-breather is no longer there.
5:37--Hum of the shower. Lulls you back to sleep. Bliss.
5:49--Clothes are thrown willy nilly on your feet. Husband is oblivious.
6:00--Wake up call. Go away. 6:30 is fine. Want to turn over onto right side, but refuse to on the grounds that you haven't been able to sleep on left side all night and now is your only chance.
6:30--Wake up call. Fine.

This has been my basic schedule since Feb. 2nd. Teeth, please pop through so that little bean stops waking up at 4 am and I can sleep like a normal person again. Please.

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