More Signs, Less Sleep
Asher has added the following signs to his growing repertoire:
24. lion
25. cat
26. mouse
27. car
Asher’s nighttime sleeping is going pretty good. He’s staying in his crib most nights from bedtime until about 3:30 a.m., but I’m noticing some backsliding. Like, he used to stay there until 5:30, then 4:30. Now 3:30 a.m.
Let’s pause for dramatic effect, shall we?
…
3:30 a.m.
Sending Ian into Asher’s room to deal with him isn’t working too well. It’s great that I can bully my husband out of bed to deal with the crying baby (something that I should have done much more often when Lucas was small), but he’s not having much luck—even though he’s trying hard.
So, because most nights I’ve already been up with Asher at least once by the time 3:30 a.m. arrives, I’m not too keen on getting up again. The truth is, between 3:30 and 6 I don’t even know my fucking name. Therefore, Asher has been coming to our bed then and sleeping until 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning.
It’s not ideal. It’s not by the book. It’s life and it’s ugly sometimes.
The napping in the crib SUCKS. It is the most horrible thing EVER. Just ask Asher. I myself would give the same answer if you asked me about it after 1 hour and 55 minutes of crying. After about 25 minutes I start getting really antsy. After 47 minutes, I’m clawing out my own eyes. After 93 minutes of crying I’m willing to drown myself in a vat of acid just to make the sound stop.
Then … eventually … blessed silence …
…
for 12 minutes.
Yes, 12 minutes of napping, folks!
P. S. OK. I think I’ve indulged my inner sarcastic, bitchy drama queen enough now. Thanks for reading.
