Ever wish you could redo certain days all over again? I try not to go into that mode because I’m all about carpe diem and hakuna matata. Life ain’t perfect, we make mistakes, we learn, move on, I get that. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing I could have a do-over sometimes. Especially now that I’m a mom, I feel like I have less room for error because I don’t just affect me when I mess up.
I was planning to have a happy post today but I’m just feeling a little bummed from last night, so indulge me. Normal programming will resume tomorrow.
Since the last time they were sick, the kids have been waking up several times every night, wanting to migrate to our bed. We thought it was a phase that would pass on its own, but it’s just been getting worse. Mostly, Tru wakes up screaming for milk and mommy’s pillow, which wakes Kirsten up and that’s when the fun begins. Just when I was starting to enjoy my uninterrupted sleep at night.
At first, we caved and let them sleep on our bed because it was the easiest way to make them go back to sleep, but it was a temporary solution which resulted in terrible sleep for us anyway. The past few nights, we decided it was time to retrain them to sleep in their own room. This was a far more difficult process which involved a good hour of resistance before they would fall back asleep. We also decided to cut out the midnight milk feeds because it was more of a comfort snack than a hunger cue. In fact, most of the time, they would drink 2 ounces and refuse the rest.
Every night, we would wait for the dreaded screamfest to begin and like clockwork, they gladly delivered.
Last night, it was more of the same. I was stoned out of my mind and I slowly shuffled my feet into their room, obviously in a less-than-spritely mood. My strategy was simple. Kirsten was the easy one, she usually fell back sleep within 5 minutes of patting and then all I had to do was sit and wait for Tru to toss and turn for the next 45 minutes.
Except that this time, baby girl was the one screaming and refusing to sleep. I tried singing, whispering, humming, patting, carrying, rocking and none of it worked.
30 minutes in, I was like “baby girl, this is very bad. You got to help me here, I need to see you TRY.” She closed her eyes for a minute, grabbed her duck and started whimpering. Ok, some progress, I thought. But this went on for a while, and my back was numb from all that bending over her cot. Finally I picked her up, brought her over to Kel and went out to make her milk.
Good thing daddy had the sense to check her diaper because her poop as all caked up and her ass was bleeding from nappy rash. I mean, there were real specks of blood and it was red as a baboon’s bottom.
daddy knows best
The feeling I had when I came back into the room was possibly the worst I’ve ever felt. It was a total rookie mistake. Always check for poop first, but I didn’t, I got careless. There I was, patting her bleeding bum, and all upset because it wasn’t working. Worst thing was, baby girl really tried, just like I asked. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep even though her ass was on fire. Seriously, if there as blood coming out from my ass, I wouldn’t be as obliging.
After we cleaned her up, I held her and told her momma was real sorry. I think she understood because she grabbed my finger tightly with her tiny hands and fell asleep.
Of all the dumbass things I’ve done in my life, I think this easily makes it to the top. So excuse me, I need to wallow and feel awful for just a little while more.
