I started this post at 10 something this morning. It is now 9.25pm. You probably already know how last night went in the great “I Dream Of Sleep” saga.
When I woke up this morning I thought “well, this will be a good blog post.” I use the word “good” loosely. Very loosely.
The verdict is IN! Night #1 = fluke. It really WAS too easy the first night. Smunchie is not about to take this night weaning thing laying down. Bah-dum-bum-bum. Pardon the lame pun, I’m zombie-mom today.
Look at my darling Smunchie. Doesn’t she look so sweet? It is possible this is just a facade and underneath lurks a fierce bobbie-monster.
Official analysis? The night #2 sucked. Dr. Gordon warned us it would be hard. The man was not lying. I think he may have understated it a little. Doctors do that you know, “this may be uncomfortable” means “this is going to hurt like hell” and “These will be hard nights” means “You will feel like you are being tortured.”
I thought I would check the clock and have an idea of when things happened but apparently I have a selective memory as to how I function in the middle of the night upon being awakened from sleep. It’s bad. Trying to be aware made me remember how I felt after having my impacted wisdom teeth pulled when my mom was telling me to put on my seat belt and I tried to say “I am” but instead as I grunt an unintelligible sound a slippery and unstoppable ball of drool slid out the side of my mouth over my drooping, swollen lip all while thinking I was moving my hand reaching for the seat belt but it laid limply in my lap. Take that image and imagine that same person is trying to get a small, very determined, rather angry, surprisingly strong toddler to stop breastfeeding at night. This explains SO much.
8pm- Smunchie in bed after stories, bobbies, brushing teeth, more books, and singing. No problems.
Midnight- The Piano Man and I to bed. Too late again. But look at that, 4 hours of sleep without a peep from Smunchie. This is typical. We suspect it is because we are NOT trying to sleep and she has no reason to interfere with us doing the dishes or picking up toys or maybe even getting some work done.
12.10ish- Smunchie wakes up, we do the short feed but I’m worried she’s already fallen back asleep. When I whisper “bobbies all done” she immediately pops off and rolls over to go to sleep. I think “I’m a ROCKSTAR!” The Piano Man and I share a “she’s-so-cute-and-this-is-awesome” smile. The kind that makes me think dangerous things like maybe we should go for one more. I move her to her bed and we all go to sleep.
Sometime between 12.30 and 2am- that smile and dangerous thought leads to some potentially dangerous activities but fear and panic of what could still be to come in the night once again work their magic powers and our current method of birth control holds. Sleep is made the priority.
After 3.30ish- Now things get really fuzzy. Smunchie wakes up, I lay there hoping she’ll suddenly decide that what she actually wants is to sleep and stop asking for bobbies. Then I realize that’s not going to happen so I decide to get her. Only I don’t actually move. I think I’m going to but I don’t. The Piano Man gets her and gives her to me, we nurse and I fight like crazy to be aware but I still somehow manage to doze and roll away from her a bit and she loses the nipple. Freak out. This is what usually happens and we do this dance until… well, I don’t know when because I never really sleep and I never really wake up. Get situated again and she sucks like she’s holding on for dear life. My brain is making random shapes and I have some stupid Katy Perry song that I hate running through my head and I may have mumbled “stop it, just stop it” but that was about that dumb song. When her suck changes I croak (no sweet whisper this time) “bobbies all done” and she lets go and rolls over.
Though I’m in a sleepy stupor, I’m impressed. We all settle in for a picturesque sleep in the family bed.
3 min. later- Smunchie sits up suddenly and starts asking “bobbies?” From some place in my head free of any Katy Perry music I register the question and think it sounds cute. She was not going for cute. It quickly escalates to anger. How DARE we take her bobbies away?! She was USING them! Crying and repeating that one word she starts pushing me, pulling me, sticking her hand down my shirt, body slamming me and then pulling a move worthy of a WWF broadcast, an elbow blow to my head.
I forgot the plan. The truth is, drooly, dozing me is no match for bobbie crazed Smunchie. The Piano Man pulled her off of me and cuddled and cooed and I have no idea what else because I kind of tuned it all out.
Sometime after 4am- She would settle, almost asleep and then rouse again to let us know how angry she was. This happened so. many. times. We took turns with the comforting, I even sang “You Are My Sunshine”, which may not have helped things since it sounded I had cotton packing in my cheeks and my mouth open for hours. I rubbed her back, The Piano Man held her on his chest, he patted her, she and I laid with our noses touching, she tried to push us both out of the bed and claimed the center going the wrong way. I thought “I’m so not a rockstar.”
4.30ish- Squiggle Bug woke up. No big surprise, it was kind of noisy. She wanted daddy. Daddy comforted her and came back. So did Squiggle Bug. I gave her a hug and Smunchie got jealous. She tried to throw herself off the bed to claim me back for herself.
4.40ish- At some point, I don’t know when, The Piano Man went to check on Squiggle Bug who had gone back to bed (actually, the couch) and Smunchie had the biggest melt down of the night. Hitting me again (which I don’t permit so I moved out of her way) she turned her extra angry voice up a few notches, climbed out of bed and stomped off to find daddy. I didn’t even know she could stomp. Twenty pound ball of bobbie crazed, exhausted, mad stomping off to find daddy. He brought her back and tried to leave again but she wouldn’t have it so he laid back down.
5somethingish- Our “mm-hm” chant started, she flipped flopped all over the place with The Piano Man and I perched on about 3 inches each on the sides of the bed. I also ended up in the bed the wrong way for some reason once and we had a smiley, sweet, let’s play few moments in there. Lovey was lost track of several times and the baby doll was thrown out of the bed once. I started thinking maybe I should give her the bobbies so we could get SOME sleep when all of a sudden she began scooting/crawling backwards toward the end of the bed. Because he doesn’t act like he just had his wisdom teeth pulled when he’s supposed to be sleeping but isn’t, The Piano Man bounced out of bed (I kid you not, bounced) and got to her before she landed on the floor. To his surprise she pointed to her little bed, he took her to it, she tossed in her lovey (a small blanket) and Ciel (her baby doll) and reached for the bed. He gentle placed her in her bed and she immediately fell asleep. I glanced at the clock, it was just before 6am. I think, the numbers were really blurry.
7.30ish- Smunchie stands up and calls for bobbies. We cuddle up and nurse and I still feel like someone gave me some drug and dug around in my head for a while. Once done with the bobbies she sits up and giggles, points at something on the night stand and in general acts like she had a great night and seriously mommy, what is wrong with you and why are you talking funny?
It was after we got up and stumbled toward the kitchen to get coffee started that I learned that The Piano Man sat with Squiggle Bug for a bit before she’d let him go back to bed. Today was rough, we’ve been a tired, cranky family. All except Smunchie, she’s been all smiles and giggles, rainbows and butterflies.