Will it ever end?

After Hope burned her hand a couple of weeks ago, the advances I made in getting her to sleep through the night went out the window. That was followed by a nasty head cold. I was back to getting up with her about two or three times a night and often fed her at least one of those times.

The last few nights she's gotten up around 3:00 and wanted to feed. Without a clock in our room (long story) I was left to guess what time it was and often guessed (wrongly) that it was past 4:00 and fed her. (4:00 is my line after which I will feed her.) Well, last night the clock was back and I realized it was just before 3:00 and the feedings likely had been around 3:00 for a few nights. So, it was time to take action. Emily was sleeping well after a few nights of not (thank you, UTI) so I figured I could only concentrate on one kid for the night.

Well, according to Hope, life had come to an end as she knew it. Screaming, jumping, shaking the crib, more screaming and screaming and screaming until I left her small room just to save my ears.

To make a long story short (or LSS, as John would say), John, Hope and I were up from 3:00 until 5:00 at which point I was on a mattress on her floor with her beside me. She fed, she went to bed, woke up a few more times but I ignored her and then I slept until 8:00. Now I'm in a minor panic because I'm teaching Sunday School this morning. I'm prepared but I hate to rush around and I feel like I'll rush around a bit.

I know that this is only the beginning of a string of nights like this. My motivation is high however because Hope is still eating almost nothing (besides breastmilk) during the day. I am so happy she has been such a great breastfeeder and that she is attached to it and that it is a source of comfort and security for her. But I need less of it now and I want more other food going into that pie hole of hers. I'm sure that the breastfeeding is contributing to her pushing away other food.

I missed posting yesterday. I'm a NaBloPoMo failure. But, I feel I have a good reason: God. S/He's contracted me to teach Sunday School and being the slacker very busy mother that I am I prepared my lesson last night which involved running out to get eggs at 9:00 to bake muffins for the snack, cutting out masks, cutting up pieces of paper and gathering craft supplies from around the house. The Art Attack going on in the basement and the muffin baking was prefaced by a great birthday party at our friend's Pam and Jim's for their wee one, Celia, who just turned one. I said to John before we left for the party that I love going to Pam and Jim's for dinner because all our kids play so well together (Emily and their son Nevan are the same age as are Hope and Celia) so we only have to really supervise occasionally AND we don't have to cook AND there's wine. Emily summed it up best when we were loading her in the car to go home and she said to John: "I was delighted to come to the party."

Me, too, although I probably wouldn't have sounded so eloquent saying it.