It’s been a rough week
A week of tantrums (his) and tears (ours.) Of deep breaths (mine.) and strained patience (also mine.)
We’ve not had enough sleep. Actually, the past two weeks we’ve not had enough sleep.
Ummm. That’s a lie. it’s always. We always do not sleep enough.
My kid is not a stellar sleeper. He wakes several times a night. He still nurses several times a night. Our regular is about every three to four hours. And that’s good! I’m fine with that (I’ve had insomnia since I was 12, so really, anything over three hours feels like a win to me.) But sometimes, he wakes every hour or so… and that I’m not okay with. It’s exhausting. It wears me down. And then I cry.
More than once I’ve looked him in the eyes and cried?”WHAT do you want?!”
Sometimes nothing works. He doesn’t want to nurse. He doesn’t want a bottle. Rocking him is akin to baby torture. Pacing down the hall and back. Singing… nothing.
Only for him to finally settle down after an hour or two and take the first thing that was offered. Boob.
Sometimes being a baby is hard.
Sometimes being a mama is hard, too.
But we can cry. We can let it out. We can get through the rough nights. Because in the morning, this little man always wakes with a smile.