The baby fell asleep relatively early, and DH, fresh home from a business trip, went to bed early as well. I had the whole house quiet and to myself, a rare treat at 10:30pm (a good hour or two before the baby usually goes down). I should have followed their lead, but I'd had too much Dr. Pepper too late in the evening and felt comfortably alert.
I decided to work on a couple projects: Tweaking some photos to upload as stock photography and brainstorming designs for my t-shirt shop.
I created this design in both a brother and a sister version for one of my mommy friends who hopes to conceive a 2nd child soon:
I made this one because -- theoretically, anyway; it's still hot here in West Texas -- the days will start feeling crisp soon and everything will be full of color:
They don't look like much, perhaps, but they kept me awake and working until 2am. I am nothing if not slow and methodical. A tweaker.
I had more or less finished at 2 when I heard the baby stir and start to cry. She has an amazing knack of waking up right when I'm about to go to bed myself, lol -- it doesn't matter whether I try to go down early or so late that it's early the next morning; just when I feel wiped out and ready to crash, she's up and demanding my attention. I nursed her and snuggled with her for an hour. We watched an interesting episode of Digging for the Truth on the History Channel about the search for El Dorado, the Incan city of gold. The baby fell asleep in my arms, so I tried to put her back down -- which of course didn't work. She knows the difference, even in her sleep, between mom's protective grasp and the cold emptiness of her bed. But at after 3am, knowing her basic needs were met, I thought it best to let her cry it out. It doesn't usually take her very long to get back to sleep, especially at that hour and on a full stomach.
Usually. Not this time, of course.
She screamed and cried and screamed and cried, and even with her door shut and her sister's door shut down the hall, all the ruckus woke up the toddler. As the baby's cries finally faded into whimpers and then silence, the two-year-old slipped out of her covers and padded softly in footsie pajamas across the house until she reached our bedroom door. She gave it a good, squeaky shove open and startled me half to death.
I put her back to bed and returned to my own to fall asleep.
A few minutes later, she was back in our room. DH took her back this time, so I closed my eyes and let everything instantly melt away. He tried to get her to sleep, but apparently she stayed up and talked his ear off for a good two hours. I got up again at 5:30, when DH came back and the toddler trailed him in. I tucked her back in bed again, changed the music in her CD player to something more soothing, and lay down with her.
No sooner had I closed my eyes than the baby woke up at full wail.
I said goodnight to the toddler, closed her bedroom door behind me and locked it (mean mommy that I am) and went to nurse the baby again. We fell asleep together on the couch and, finally, everyone was out for the count. Thank goodness we have 11am church, because none of us woke up before 10.
So that's the story of our crazy night. I'd had a remarkably similar one two nights earlier, when DH was away on business and I had both girls to contend with all alone. I'm exhausted today. I ought to catch up while I can -- the girls are both napping as I type this -- but I'm blogging instead.
No, wait; they're not still napping. I hear at least one of the natives stirring, and the other can't be far behind. Ah, well.
Here we go again. :-)
~RCH~
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