Saturday, August 29, 2009

Four. Four o'clock. Not six, not five FOUR A FUCKING CLOCK. A.M. This is when my son woke up this morning. He has always been a champ at sleeping as long as it is dark outside. For months and months he only got me up once to nurse during the night. Bliss. Now all of a sudden he's waking every two hours again. Last night Weebles' woke up and threw a gigantic temper tantrum in the middle of the night and kept us up for nearly two hours. So I'm already exhausted. I'm already frazzled. So to go upstairs thinking I'd be nursing him and hopefully tucking him in for the last time tonight (shit at this point is it last night? hell i don't know) only to have him stay wide awake and start rolling around and babbling... I put him back in his crib, that lasted a few minutes until he got bored of crawling around in there. I tried rocking him, nope. I tried nursing him again, no thank you mama. I was so groggy I knew I couldn't even stay awake with him up there so I brought him downstairs and put him in the bouncy and tried to turn on the TV. Somehow I hit the wrong button and not only turned the menu information to Spanish instead of English but also turned on picture in picture. I couldn't have done that if I'd fucking wanted to.

When you have a newborn you're ready for this kind of sleep deprivation. Sure, you're tired but you have a newborn and at least for the first few weeks you get by on sheer excitement. It is the sleep regressions that hit when you least expect it that really knock you on your ass. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go find the Tivo remote... Classical Baby needs to be restarted...

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