3:04 p.m. - October 12, 2005
I know Iíve complained about sleep in the past (this one is pretty good if I do say so myself, even if I was ĺ mad with sleep depravation when I wrote it) but I thought as soon as Kristin started to sleep through the night for the most part weíd be in the clear and could actually go to bed at a decent hour and sleep.
We even naively thought that when we successfully transitioned Kristin to her crib from her big bassinette (yes, my little baby girl has now outgrown her bassinette) that weíd be home free and could actually have adult conversations, etc. at night.
The last few days have been a bitÖerÖfrustrating to all of us in search of some shuteye, or even for those of us that have to get up to make sure they get to work in the morning.
Actually, some of my issues are my own fault entirely. I know what time I need to get up, and I know what time Katie normally rises up. So when Iím on the computer at one in the morning, then some of it is my own fault. However, I can function (well, semi-function) on six hours of sleep, no problem. Liz, though, needs more sleep than that, and she is also having mega issues.
Liz is exhausted on Saturday. I had a Wabash game and aside from cooking breakfast and being around in the morning, I was gone most of the day. Katie is becoming quite independent, vocal, and bullheaded. I think itís the Montessori Independence Syndrome, (as other Montessori parents have noticed that as well). A whole day of the kids wears Liz out, so she goes to bed early.
Kristin goes to sleep at about 10:00, after I fill her chock full oí formula, and so Iím on the computer way too late. Iím hoping to sleep until 7:30 so I think I can grab six hours no problem. My headphones are on pretty loud, so I canít hear much. Soon, Liz comes running in the computer room.
Katie is just hysterical. I try to go comfort her, so Liz can get some sleep. No can do. Thereís a giant in the room. I say just tell the pretend giant to go away. Katie says that Mommy needs to do that. And so, Liz has to get up for real and get Katie calmed down, which takes a half hour.
So weíre both rather tired and sleepy during church. Iím glad the pastor tries to make the sermons interesting. Otherwise, itíd be Nap City, USA in our pew. And since weíre relative newcomers to the church (and still feeling out our whole theology and how we fit into everything) thatíd make quite the impression on everyone. Itís no fun greeting the pastor after the service when you still have some drool on your face due to your snoring.
Sunday we go to sleep, no problem. Katie has been very regular about getting out of bed spot on at seven. So Iíve stopped using an alarm clock, because if I can get up at seven, I can still get to work no sweat.
Iím having a great, interesting dream. I dream that Iím playing for the Montreal Expos (yes, I know theyíre no longer in existence, but bear with me) as either a pitcher or an infielder. Iím in line getting my equipment for the year handed out to me (which doesnít happen that way, but go with it) and Iím in line next to a female friend who is also playing for the Expos (!). Just as I was going to get my number assigned Katie walks into our room. Great, itís 7:00.
Nope, itís 7:20. Oops. I was a little late on Monday after doing all the dumb things I gotta do in the morning.
So Iím totally discombobulated, because Iím late for work and that bugs me. And I canít get that freaking dream out of my head and that bugs me. What bugs me even worse is I never found out what number I was going to be assigned by the Expos. Argh! Can someone get Spock to probe my subconscious and let me know??
(And why is it that I donít know what position I played?? Jeez, why is it when I remember a dream that critical information is missing? This inquiring mind wants to know!)
Ah, but I survive, vexed still, but thatís the way it goes. Monday night means a big Monday Night Football game, and Iím thinking I can go over to see Sid and watch it there and not subject Liz to the human drama of athletic competition. No dice, as Sid is talking to his long distance paramour. So Iím at home, and disgruntled as the Chargers lose and Drew Brees and LaDanian Tomlinson donít do as well as I need them to do, so I lose my fantasy football game. (See, itís all about ME! Itís a conspiracy to keep me down. The man has it in for me, I swear).
So I stay up a little late to vent my frustration on the internet, and trundle off to sleep. Hopefully Iíll get a good 6 Ĺ hours in.
Kristin went to sleep around 8:00 downstairs and did not wake up for anything. So she decides that 3:00 in the morning would be a fine time to start her day.
I decide to be a nice guy and I get up with her, thinking it will be just a half hour feed and change job.
I THINK it is, because at about 3:30 she seems peaceful and happy when I put her back in the crib.
Fifteen minutes later, there she goes again. Liz goes and gets her. I try to get back to sleep, and I finally do, but around 5 Liz comes back to bed. Kristin was just alert and happy. Liz tried to snuggle with her but Kristin kept lifting her head up, looking around, then when she put her head down it went thwack across Lizís chest. Ouch!
Katie again is late in waking up so Iím again all out of sorts and into work late (well, late for me. As long as I get my stuff done I can go in anytime at all) and tired. Liz is also tired all day, so our Tuesday night was pretty much pre-ordained.
Kids to sleep Ė parents to sleep. Period. Paragraph.
But there was a hitch in the get-along, as there always is. Kristin had her four month immunizations, and that meant three shots in her thighs. She.was.not.amused. Every four hours we dosed her with Tylenol, and after four hours she was just fussy and cranky. Well, youíd be too if some doctor man stuck three needles into your thighs.
However, the plan was working. Katie, while running late, did go to bed at a reasonable hour. I was bone tired, so I went upstairs to read, while Liz became a mommy sofa for Kristin to try to get her calm and peaceful.
About 20 minutes later, Liz comes upstairs, and within 20 minutes weíre both asleep. Perfect. At least nine hours of shut-eye.
At about 1:30 this morning, I hear the loudest, most gut wrenching howl from Katie. Liz went in to try to calm here down Ė no dice. I then went in and she screamed even louder. Sheís packing a lot of volume inside a little body. Liz finally went back in and that did the trick.
I do not know if there was another giant in the room, or elephants, or something else. Sometimes a whole menagerie appears in Katieís dreams.
Fortunately Kristin slept through it all.
And again, Katie was running late on her wake up duties. I think we need to just break down and set an alarm.
However, this morning when Katie finally woke up, she came downstairs and used me as a Daddy sofa as I watched Letterman. That kind of makes up for all of the sleep Iíve missed these past few days.
Now if I could only be the Daddy sofa on days when Iím not thinking to myself, ďI wish I could just nap out right hereÖĒ Because if thereís one thing Katie wonít abide, itís unauthorized napping.
The cruelty of it all.