You know that call … the one that comes at 10:15pm while you are out with your friends for the evening, thrilled that you’re able to take some time for yourself because Daddy and Baby are looking after each other … the call that starts with a harmless little ring of the cell phone, a glance at the call display to see that someone (probably Daddy) is calling from home … and then all hell breaks loose! Before the phone has even made it to your ear, you can hear the screaming … unsure which of the two is making the sound, you tentatively stammer, “hello … is everything OK?” when it so clearly is NOT!! Otherwise, why would he be calling you?!? Then you hear the desperation in his voice, “Are you on your way home yet?” Part irritation, part anxiety, part wishful thinking. He’s been crying screaming for an hour and a half – the kid has stamina! No, I’m not on my way home. Should I be? Again a stupid question … clearly they both need me. Problem is – I’m an hour away. “OK, I’m on my way,” I say, annoyed that my evening is cut short, but mostly guilty that I thought the frozen milk I left for them would be sufficient (when we already know that my breastmilk does not freeze well – it takes on a metallic taste), “try taking him for a walk in the stroller”.
One hour later I arrive home. Putting my key in the door, I hear nothing from inside. Perhaps they’re still out walking? No, there he is, in the stroller, fast asleep just inside the door … and there’s Daddy on the couch, with the biggest “rescue me” look I’ve ever seen. A rough night. Little did we know it was only just beginning.
Nicholas proceeded to nurse 4 times between 11:30pm and 7:30am. Teething? Coming down with a cold? Didn’t nap well enough during the day? Hungry? Who knows?! I woke up crying this morning because I was so emotionally and physically tired.
That was last night.
Tonight, he nursed to sleep by 9pm, and only lasted 30 minutes in the crib before he started yelling. Between Patrick and I, it took us an hour to get him back to sleep … in his crib.
So, a quick post to the blog and I’m off to bed myself, with fingers crossed that he’ll try one of those 9-hour marathon sleeps tonight. Wish us deep, uninterrupted slumber!
Oh! Rough night indeed! Sorry to hear Nicholas is having a rough go
Oh boy! you poor thing….it does get better…eventually (or so I’m told) ok honestly, there will come a day when he no longer screams the minute you walk out the door and he’ll sleep 9 hours EVERY night, and you’ll enjoy late evenings out without even ONCE worrying about whether you’ll find both daddy and son curled up in the fetal position on the floor whimpering, “mommy” when you get home….eventually. It does happen…..or so they say!
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