Night one, kid in the middle of the bed: slept until 5, ate, went back to sleep.
Night 2, same setting, same result.
Night 3, same setting, all hell broke loose.
Listen, people. We’re bordering on a crisis here. The kid was up EVERY. FUCKING. HOUR.
I am wrecked today. NSG is wrecked today. And the kid is McCrabby. Before I got ahold of myself I even tried to pick a fight with NSG this morning over who was more tired.
I have no idea what happened. He doesn’t seem to be sick, he didn’t have a bad day yesterday. Are we paying for having been away? Is something else going on?
I don’t think I have been this tired since my last all-nighter, which was, um, carry the 6… a LONG time ago. I can hardly see straight.
This morning I composed a blog post in my head that started with something like “Baby for Rent.” Now I’ve had a whole day away from him and don’t feel the need to pawn him off anymore – but I will say that I’m not ready for him to come home, and might not be ready until tomorrow.
Please someone remind me that for every night like this there’s also a sleep-until-5-am night, and good smiles and baby laughs and funny little baby farts. I know it was only 2 nights ago that we had one of those good nights but this one cancelled that one out and right now I don’t believe it will ever happen again.