I Feel a Battle Brewing, Part 2
Thursday, January 3, 2008
burghbaby in Sleep

So, how did Project I Will Not Be Broken go, you wonder? Well, Alexis was in her own little bed between the hours of 9:00 pm and 5:00 am. In fact, she didn't wind up in our bed until 5:07.

For the record, Mr. Husband gets up at 5:20. I get up at 6:20. When the screaming started at 5:07, I knew my choices were to get up and be up for the rest of the day, or bring her back to bed with me and hope she fell asleep in less than 13 minutes. I chose the latter and she cooperated. I consider that part of the story to be the successful part.

What was not successful was what happened between 9 and 5. There was only one awakening, but boy, oh boy, it was a doozy. At precisely 12:04 am, Not-Sleeping Beauty began the yelling.

"Moooooooooommy"

"Moooooooooommy"

"MOOOOOOOOOOMMY"

I ignored her. It's really not that hard to do when you know there is absolutely nothing wrong with your child. Besides, I've been down this path before. I mentioned yesterday that Alexis occasionally hits a phase where she thinks she needs to see me in the middle of the night. It has always been easy to cure: Ignore her. She will fuss for no more than 20 minutes, go to sleep, and the phase will pass for at least a month. It's really just a matter of having my wits about me enough to know that she should be ignored.

Last night 20 minutes turned into 30 minutes. That turned into 40 minutes. Then 50. Then 60. Alexis carried on and on and on, alternating between yelling the boss's official title and calling for her Daddy. Daddy, of course, slept through the whole thing. Never heard a single peep. I even hurled a Bulldog at him at one point (OK, it was more like a shove of her rump in hopes that she would head in his general direction), but that backfired when she came trumbling back to me and plopped down on my stomach.

All the while, I stayed in my cozy bed and buried my head under a pillow. Until I heard, "Mommy, I need my pants."

THAT got me out of bed instantly. As any of you that have provided shelter to strippers know, needing pants might very well be Toddler-speak for "I'm not wearing a diaper and I'm going to drop a deuce right here in my bed just so you won't get another millisecond of sleep for the rest of the night!"

Fortunately, she really had just lost her pants. I would guess that she was trying to climb out of her crib, which I like to call Sona (if you get that reference, you and I really can be bestest friends forever, just so long as you remember that Wentworth is MINE ALL MINE I SAW HIM FIRST HE'S MINE). She cannot break out of that crib no matter how hard she tries, but all of her attempts seemed to have caused her flannel Dora bottoms to sink to the depths of her floor.

Alexis' room is the coldest place in our entire house. If you ever need to chill a frosty beverage, skip the fridge and freezer, head straight to her room where I can guarantee it will be frozen in no time. Walking on her floor is like walking on a sheet of ice all year round. I've never quite figured out what the problem is back there, but I have figured out that you can't just pick a pair of pajama bottoms up off the floor and stick them on the Toddler unless you want her to politely inform you that her little ham hocks are a wee bit chilly. So I snagged the pants, I snagged the Toddler, and together we all sat down in the chair. By the time her pants were warmed up enough to put them on, Alexis was fast asleep in my arms.

Total amount of time that I know I was awake: 2 hours 13 minutes.

So tonight, my dear Alexis, we will fight the battle once again. I know that giving in right now will result in a Toddler trying to permanently move into my bed, so I will not be broken.

We shall see who is more stubborn once and for all.

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