Today was one of those days.
Firstly, when Baby J went to sleep at 8:15 p.m. last night and stayed down without stirring, I should’ve known it was too good to be true. He’s usually a great sleeper, but he tends to stay up later than we’d like (most nights bedtime happens between 9 p.m. and 10 p.m.).
Secondly, the Grammy’s distracted me and Husband from our bed for way too long, so I didn’t obey the golden rule: sleep when the baby sleeps (I can’t nap during the day, so I really should try to align my night sleeps to his … damn you Usher and Katy Perry).
Needless to say, I wasn’t quite as bright eyed and bushy tailed at 3 a.m. as Jacob was when he decided it was morning, even though I repeatedly pointed out to him that it was still completely dark outside. I managed to convince him to go back to sleep as the sun was coming up around 6 a.m., but it didn’t last long and before I knew it I was up for the day, trying to remember if I really slept at all.
Oh well, I resolved, today I will nap when he naps. Yeah right, Mama. After forgoing his morning nap completely, we tried to make the most of our day by running a couple errands. We did so not a moment too soon, because when we arrived back home, Jacob achieved the trifecta of awfulness — no nap + teething + nearly a week without pooping = one unimpressed little dude.
After a few hours of non-stop soothing, I finally convinced Jake it was time for a nap, but within 45 minutes, he was ready to go again, which gave me just enough time to re-assemble our wreck of a house caused by the tornado of ticked-off baby.
Of course, when Auntie A came over for a quick visit, he turned off the crank and turned on the charm, and was a bundle of smiles and giggles when Daddy came through the door. Isn’t that just the way?
I had my share of heavy sighs, head shaking and exasperated moans throughout the day, but when my sweet boy finally snuggled in, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep as he nursed tonight, I was reminded why little things like sleep depravation and temperamental moods are pretty insignificant.
And when I open my first valentine from my son that reads, “There’s no Muma more special than you,” I know I’m going to fall asleep smiling, too.