Driving On With or Without Murphy

Because I tend not to be one to suffer in silence, I’m usually pretty vocal when A goes away and I’m left with the solo parenting duties. I thought this time would be different – it was three nights and three mornings. So much less than the Taiwan trip at the start of the summer and I was no longer in the misery of the first trimester of pregnancy. I was sure I’d be just fine to just drive on through the week. While thinking this, I read Brandy’s post over at Mannly Mama about Murphy’s Laws of parenting. I should have been forewarned there. (For the record, Brandy has a 3 year old and a newborn and still blogs every day in awesome style. I know, amaze-balls.)

Tuesday evening went well enough until LC refused to go to bed. I tried to ride it out – sometimes she just fusses a bit before putting herself to sleep. I decided to jump in the shower and take 5 minutes to see if she would calm down without intervention. No such luck. I also tried to talk to her through the baby monitor, which is advertised as being able to soothe babies without having to enter the room. For the record, this most definitely made things worse. Perhaps the only thing worse than being in a dark room by yourself wanting your momma, is being in a dark room by yourself wanting momma and a disembodied voice telling you to just go to sleep. A little cuddling and soothing and explaining once again why Dada was not there, she went down. An hour after we started.

I headed to bed, where I made the mistake of not listening to my body which was exhausted at 8:45 and stayed up until 10-ish. I had just rolled over, with the pregnancy pillow finally in a comfortable position, when A called to let me know he was safely in NY. In the middle of our chat, B-Cat let out a horrific yell from the bathroom – I ran in to find that she was fighting with a cat (I hope it was a cat) through the open bathroom window. (There was a screen between them.) All this cat ruckus woke the dog who decided to run upstairs and request to be let outside to explore. (Cal never wakes up after going to bed in the evening. He has the most dependable bedtime routine there is, so this getting up was unusual.) Gathering everyone back in bed, I went to sleep, the sweet sounds of House Hunters on the tv to help lull me to sleep.

And that is exactly where I was at 2am when the baby monitor lit up and LC started to wail. I waited 10 seconds to see if it would pass, but alas, no such luck. Rolling over, I picked up the video monitor to see if (fingers crossed) she was lying down and crying, in which case she was much more likely to cry it out and go back to sleep in a few, or if she was standing up. Of course, she was up. Up to her room I went, where a complicated system of backrubs and cuddles commenced. After she had been asleep on my chest for 15 minutes, I attempted to place her back in the crib. As soon as she sensed that her cheek was now on the cool sheets of her crib and not on Momma’s chest, she catapulted into a seated position and started to wail again. Complicated system restarted. As I attempted to transfer her to the crib again, I heard a familiar sound on the stairs. Yes, Cal was up again – and wanted to go out. And he wanted me to know this. Cold sheets combined with doggie whines meant LC was not sleeping again.

I gathered everyone up and we all trudged into my room. “Dog-goo? Dada?” LC narrated as I tried to arrange everyone in bed, as well as building a pillow wall on A’s side of the bed so that LC could sleep without falling out of the bed. After all, she was happy sleeping on my chest, she would surely be happy sleeping next to me in bed. And she was. FORTY FIVE MINUTES LATER. She decided a bed filled with Meow (what she calls B-Cat), Dog-goo, Momma and at least a thought of Dada was the perfect place for a slumber party. She didn’t want to chat about boys, instead we chatted a great deal about Meow, milk and apples. Around 4am, she quieted down and fell asleep.

This was not last night.  Note the perfectly asleep baby when Dada is around
Until 6am when the sun came up. We have blackout shades in LC’s room, but not ours. (Buying and installing them is perpetually on our to do list.) I was lying on my side, with my back to LC – so as the sun came up she felt she had no choice but to climb on me, pat my head and say “Momma? Dada? Meow? Dog-goo? Milk? Apple?” I tried to insist it was still sleepy time, but she had me. The sun was up and so must we be. I placed her on the ground and told her to give Momma one minute and then we’d go get milk. I walked into the bathroom, only to find the floor wet. Really wet. While pondering why the bathroom floor was wet, I slipped, fell, bruising my foot and my knee. Awesome. Sitting on the ground, wet, confused as to what had happened and wondering how one makes it through the day with about 5 hours sleep, I steeled myself and said, I can do this. I got up, made a mental plan and committed to getting to work in plenty of time for my 9am meeting, instead of cancelling and working from home for the day like I really wanted to do. (And by work from home, I mean take LC to day care in my yoga pants, then come home and go back to bed for 2 hours.)
LC and I rallied, discovered I’d left the diaper sprayer in the upstairs bathroom on (hence the leak to the master bath), mopped up the water as best I could, got everyone dressed and fed and we were out the door. As I stood in the Starbucks line waiting for my ½ caff venti skinny caramel macchiato (and wondering just how much I would stunt the growth of my unborn child if I went all caff. . . ) I checked my email to discover my 9am meeting cancelled. Murphy’s Law indeed.
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Comments

  1. All I can say is “Army Strong”, if nothing else the Army gave you the ability to hang in and carry on.

  2. Maybe if you put one of Andrew's shirts on a pillow., making a “scarecrow” aandrew, you can convince Lila he is there & asleep! Lol

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