a crazy little thing called sleep (and football)

So. That Kelly Clarkson concert yesterday? The one with the guys in the tight pants and the weirdly-shaped brown ball and the akwardly inappropriate Madonna … thing? It was sad. I love me some Kelly Clarkson, but I’m really sad that the New England Tom Bradies did not win. SO CLOSE. That last pass? Right into the end zone with five seconds left? If #81 had CAUGHT THAT? It would have been the BEST. GAME. EVER. But no.

Four years ago, we also had a nine-month-old baby and the Patriots were also playing the Giants in the Super Bowl. And they lost. I’m so disappointed for Noah. At least he’s got three little Patriot fans to cheer him up.

Notice Noah’s duck lips?

Noah went to his parents’ place to watch the game and I invited a couple ladies over to eat delicious food and not watch the game. We had the game on, but we weren’t paying too much attention to it. I glanced at the score every once in a while, too see how my husband the Pats were doing, but that’s about it. And then I glanced at the TV and saw penguins. Huh. I thought. Cute commercial. A couple minutes later the cute penguin commercial was still on. That’s when we noticed that Kesler had the remote and we were watching March of the Penguins. So observant we are.

In other news, I kind of miss sleeping. I mean, I know that having a baby means no sleeping and that’s completely okay, but some days it hits me really hard and I just want to sleep for many, many uninterrupted hours. Preston wakes three to six times every night to nurse. Yes, really. I’m lazy and nursing him to sleep is really easy. Except when it happens every 1.5-3 hours all night long. I could just co-sleep and make it easier, but I really hate co-sleeping.

I’ve got a plan, though. I just need to actually put it into action. I was prepared to this weekend, but I totally choked. I got myself 44oz (FORTY-FOUR!) of coke and planned to get little-to-no sleep. Phase One of my plan had three parts. When Preston woke, I’d try rubbing his back to put him back to sleep. If that didn’t work, I’d rock him. If that didn’t work, I’d nurse him — which (almost) always works.

I decided to start on Friday night. It was going along just fine. For the first couple hours. He woke, I rubbed his back, he went back to sleep. He woke, I rubbed his back, he went to sleep. He woke, I rubbed his back, he screamed. I rocked him, he screamed. I nursed him, and he went back to sleep. And then I went to bed and got lazy and tired and just nursed him the next time he woke. And the next time and the next time and the next time AND THE NEXT TIME. I suck at life, is what I’m saying.

Last night, though, hell froze over and he only woke twice. Twice! I think that’s a record! Noah and I have a deal going. I get up with Preston at night, and Noah gets up with him in the morning, usually between 6:00-6:30, but sometimes as early as 5:30. When Noah gets up with Preston, I get a whole hour and a half or so of uninterrupted, wonderful, fabulous sleep. And then I’m tired and all day I’m determined to sleep-train Preston that night, and then I get lazy and tired and just nurse him every time he wakes. Like I said, I suck at life.

Phase Two of the plan would have been letting him cry himself to sleep during the times he’d gone back to sleep without nursing the previous night(s) and trying again to rock him during the times he’d fed the previous night(s). Phase Three would have (eventually) been letting him cry it out completely until he was sleeping the whole night through. I just don’t want to go to letting him cry it out, cutting him off from night nursing cold turkey if he needs it. I talked to my doctor about it, and he said that some babies just need the nightly calories, especially if they’re breastfed.

I was spoiled the last time with a baby who loved to sleep. From Day One, Liliana slept all night, at first nursing once or twice. By about 6 weeks, she was sleeping eight straight hours. By about three months, she was sleeping about 12 hours. I KNOW, RIGHT?! I don’t remember much of how Kaylie was at nine months old, but I do know that she had a bottle of milk in the middle of the night until she was three and a half. AND SHE DIDN’T ROT HER TEETH OUT OF HER HEAD. But then, I never once nursed Liliana to sleep and never once gave her a bottle in her bed. She just didn’t need it. Because she was a complete angel baby, preparing us for when she’d inevitably become a four-year-old perpetual motion machine.

What I’m trying to say is that my son likes to be helped back to sleep and I know that I could train him to stop but I am too lazy to do it and so I am writing about it in hopes that he’ll just magically start sleeping through the night, because that’s how it works, right? You write about something awesome you kid is doing and they stop, and you write about something you hope your kid will do and they do it. Right? TELL ME I AM RIGHT.

Filed under: Noah, Preston, parenting is hard, sports