In my opinion, the man who feeds a small child a pickled egg and a strawberry first thing in the morning should have to deal with the Pickled Egg Strawberry Poop that comes shooting out later in the day.
I wish the Boy Terror would find a schedule, any schedule, and stick to it. One night this week he slept all night, from 8:30 pm until 6:15 the next morning. I don't like to get up quite that early, but since it meant I slept 7 hours IN A ROW, I was pretty happy. I kept thinking "Maybe this is it. Maybe he's finally going to stop waking me up at night. Perhaps I will again get to sleep like a normal person." Ha!! He was just resting up for the next night. Here's how that went:
8:30 pm Bottle and snuggles.
8:45 pm Baby sleeping. I feel all smug and pleased with my new sleeping child.
12:00 - 3:00 am Rustling, wiggling, general restless sounds from the monitor. Not enough to get me out of bed, just enough to wake me up every few minutes.
3:07 am The call for milk. Bottle and snuggles repeated.
3:30 - 4:00 am The wiggling and squirming intensifies. No drifting off for this kid! The screaming begins.
4:00 - 4:30 am If I stand up and rock back and forth in the dark, the screaming stops. If I even start to lower my butt to the chair, the screaming returns. So I stand.
4:30 - 5:00 am We watch the east coast news on TV. Standing and rocking.
5:00 am I'm permitted to sit on the edge of the couch. Only for a moment, though, as I have to leap up and run down the hall once the projectile poop is finally shot out.
5:10 am He's asleep. I take a loooong time creeping down the hall, and lower him into the crib. He sighs, looks innocent, and stays (harrah!!) asleep.
5:15 am I fall into the deepest sleep possible, thinking to myself "I'll get at least 2 hours, I'll be okay..."
6:20 am Girl Terror hauls me out of bed. "Mummy! It's morning! Come on, Mummy!"
And another day begins.