With a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do mentality, I started my day with the removal of my earplugs.
I was lying in bed, in the middle of the bed, while my husband was sleeping on the couch downstairs. No, there was no fight. Not between us anyway. There seems to be an ongoing bout between our infant daughter and sleep.
Mr. Sandman comes easily every night and makes a small deposit. A very small deposit, too small. The magic of sleep wears off well before the sun arises and when it does it sounds exactly like this...
screaming. Screaming. SCREAMING!
This started 25 days (and nights) ago. Ding, ding!
It started with waking every 1 1/2 to 3 hours. How did I make it through the early rounds? By clinching. Yup, I got her out of the bed and nursed. I know! I should'nt have but I did. I admit it. She let me do it, she roped-a-dope and she did so easily. I was a sucker for the easy fix. Unfortunately, there was no fix, just another round in what quickly became an epic battle. It dawned on me after a few nights, "By God, she's going to go the distance!" Her tenacity makes me proud in an odd way; my little one is a contender!
With a bit of bobbing and weaving the stretches of shut eye reached 3 to 8 hours. Once again, I managed to make it to my corner, towel off and head back out. Now, we're at once a night, but damn, I just cannot go on much longer. So, I've covered up.
As much as I hate not responding to my child's cries in the night, I know that she is not hungry and therefore not in need of me. So, Dad is my cornerman. And Dad is not going to let us throw in the towel. So, he sleeps on the couch and stands by the crib while I roll with the punches upstairs in bed.
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