This month almost killed me.

The sleep deprivation beat me to the bottom of a hole and had me begging for mercy.

I had lunch with a friend one day and had the following conversation:

Friend: So we traded in our car for a Pittance.
Me: A Pittance? Nice. And who makes the Pittance again?

I’d like to think that had I had a little more sleep I wouldn’t have assumed Toyota’s new model was the “Pittance.”

I started reading Dr. Ferber’s book about sleep and in the early pages he tells the story of a little girl named Betsy who was a terrible sleeper. Her parents were at the end of their rope. They needed sleep. So they followed Dr. Ferber’s sleep training method, and when I got to the part in the story that said, “After two weeks, Betsy was sleeping through the night,” I actually got a lump in my throat. YOU CAN DO IT BETSY! It was the most beautiful story I’d read in a while.

Sleep has gotten better, much better. It’s a good thing too because David is growing and changing so fast I can barely keep up.

He’s discovered if he purses his lips together and blows, with the right amount of drool he can blow a raspberry. It’s his favorite thing about the world so far.

Can we pause just a moment for my son’s eyelashes?

Tom insists that David inherited his daddy’s eyelashes.

Well, that’s fine…just as long as his blue eyes are from his mama.

He never stays where I put him anymore. He’s started scooting and rolling in his crib. The first time I came into his room and found him wedged in the corner of his crib, I felt the way one might feel if they discovered their Barbies had changed the wallpaper in the Dream House. How did you DO that? You can’t MOVE!

Changing him is a little like trying to wrestle a greased Rockette to the ground. “Now, KICK! and KICK! and KICK! and Don’t forget to smile!”

He’s also rolling both ways. Recently, in an effort to help both of us gain a little independence, I’ve started trying to let him play on the floor without my help. So I left him on his blanket with a few toys, and seconds later I found him like this.

Seems he fish-hooked the bumblebee with his right hand and then dove for the football with his left.

Our days are starting to form a good rhythm of naps and play and errands. He’s just starting to play for real. He’s getting much better at grabbing things, things like the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck. His favorite way to play with toys is to grab them and then wave them wildly, even if it means smacking himself in the head with a plastic giraffe. I never understood the name Bamm-Bamm until now.

On a particularly fussy day I discovered that the sound of the vacuum is sort of like baby Lexapro. As soon as I turn it on, David drifts off to a world where he is either running in the meadow with bunnies and puppy dogs or back in the womb. It took me five months to discover this because I NEVER VACUUM. Now David and I go room to room, looking for surfaces to vacuum…because your bathroom sink isn’t really clean until it’s been vacuumed.

Every day around 7pm David starts fussing and is generally grumpy until bedtime at 8pm. It’s especially annoying because whenever we have people over during the week, it’s usually between the hours of 6-8pm, so instead of our giggling, smiling, squirming baby, all they see is a crybaby. Last week we had dinner with family for Uncle Steve’s birthday, and half-way through David’s face melted into the saddest pout you’ve ever seen, and then he proceeded to break Steve and Lindsay’s windows with his screams. David and I had to leave the party early.

A few days later, Tom and I were changing David and Tom was tickling him. David was giggling and shrieking with joy. It was so sweet I wanted to roll the moment in sprinkles and eat it up. Tom looked at me and said, “It’s kind of nice that he only does this for us, isn’t it?” He was right.

David,
I’ve been trying to think of what to tell you for a while. I wanted to think of something clever and sentimental, but nothing seemed to fit. And then I just realized all I want you to know is how much I love you. Your daddy and I love you so much we don’t even really know how to handle it. Of all the things I want for you, growing up knowing you’re loved, by us and by God, is at the top of the list.

I love you so much, of all those times you woke me up in the middle of the night, not even once did I consider giving you to the circus. (Step right UP! Come see the only baby in the world that NEVER SLEEPS!)

Well, maybe once.

Love,
Mommy

(and now for a barrage of photos, because I couldn’t pick just one)

Share this:

Facebook

0

Twitter

Pinterest

0

email