How’s that for the start of a blog post?
After two and a half months of Newborn Sleep-through-all-the-chaos Bliss, we seem to have turned a corner this week (of course it would be this week) into the land of Eyes Open. In many ways of beautiful blues, this is a great development. In the sense that Truman no longer sleeps through every thump, bump, squawk, whine, scream, etc. coming from his sibs, however, it is terrible.
Why? Because I am a sleep fiend who will go to any and all lengths to protect my baby’s slumber which is probably motivated and complicated by my own battles and bouts with sleeplessness and therefore the whole situation gets sticky quickly.
To translate: we probably need to be done having babies so I can be done yelling at my other kids to BE QUIET FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY BECAUSE THE BABY IS TRYING TO SLEEP!!!!! Or something like that.
OK. So I’m not actually screaming in all caps at my kids all day long about being quiet for the baby’s sake, but now that Truman is starting to show more sensitivity to his environment (and is more fussy than he’s ever been), I find my shoulders creeping up to my ears and my tone of voice holding many a warning as I try (usually in vain) to police the noise level of three very loud, very active, and still very little other kids. And it doesn’t feel good.
In all honesty, it feels like I’m a pretty crappy mom at times like this – almost as crappy as I feel when I’m pregnant and can’t keep up with them – and then I start to go down the slippery slope of “but I’ve been pregnant or tending a newborn/infant most of Harrison’s life, so when is he ever getting a fair shake from me?” and then I step in a big old pile of self doubt/blerghs and then what? What does that get me?
Stiff shoulders and a heart full of mom guilt. Fun.
So the solution to all this? Yeah, I don’t actually know, either. I’m just going to keep utilizing the magic of our swing in hopes that it lulls Truman to at least some sort of decent level of day sleep and pray that his yoga-baby/fourth-kid status keeps him laid back and chill enough to just roll with the general upheaval that is daily life right now (especially in a week that contains both parents feeling pulled in a few too many directions and one kid home sick for the first time all year).
The Tunnel, my friends. We’ve got one kid out of it (but don’t even get me started on what it is like to have him at school all day where I know next to nothing about what’s happening to/with him), but many, many moons to go before we’re in the clear. I’ll do what I can to keep shoulder creeping and swearing in check until we get there.