Sleeping. We have that.

I want to thank all of you for your awesome comments at the “Dear Seasoned Moms” post. That was a fantastic discussion and I think proof-positive that you can share your experiences and commiserate without being a total jerkwad.

You guys rock.

Moving on.

So I’ve been hesitant to talk about this here, but I have at Twitter and Facebook.

(Which, incidentally, I should explain something about my FB policy, since I’ve gotten about 25 requests to be FB friends with folks who I don’t know and assume are readers: I’ve decided to keep FB a People I Actually Know place. This is mainly due to me wanting some space online to share things about my life, and Abigail’s, that is private and locked. I hope I haven’t offended anyone!)

Anyway, so. Someone is sleeping through the night. And has for about two weeks now. And by “sleep through the night” I mean from about 8:30, 9 p.m. until 5 a.m., which in New Parent Hours means Rumpelstiltskin Hours.  And also by “sleep through the night” I mean she doesn’t wake up for a feeding. Not one. The night after she had her vaccines, for example, she woke up and took a half-ounce, but that was all.

Believe you me, no one is more freaked out about this development than me.

Now, before we start, know that I know this: it won’t always be this way, she’ll probably regress at some point, have a bad night or two, your kid did X, etc., etc. It’s REALLY important for me to note that I understand she isn’t a robot I’ve programmed and tinkered with and that she’s liable to spice things up again on us. Also, we didn’t “sleep train her,” in as much as we just put her down in the crib  when she fell asleep/got sleepy. She wasn’t a fan at all of it at first, but now when she wakes up, unless she wants something, she finds her thumb and soothes herself back to sleep. So there is that.

But then there is the colic that seems to have dissipated, and now she’s gotten used to sleeping in her crib. We go into her room in the morning to find her laughing and chatting and as happy as can be.

I’ve read that some parents who have a fussy, colicky, reflux kid like ours often feel like they’ve just been through a war once everything has subsided. And it feels like that for me. I still find myself looking at the clock as it hits about 5:30 p.m. and want to gird my loins for the upcoming five hours. But then? 5:30 p.m. comes and we’re playing on her mat, chatting, looking at things around the room, waiting for Scott to come home so we can start getting ready for bed. By 6:30 she and I are in the tub playing with toys and splashing around, and by 7 p.m. Scott has her in her jammies and is feeding her a bottle. Last night she was out by 7:30 p.m., and other nights we’re up and down a couple of times before she’s out for the night.

For the night.

We’re having a rough day around here today. After trying to finish up her morning bottle so Scott could finish getting ready for work, she let out the most awful scream, like she was in pain, and was only consoled if Daddy came back. She finished her bottle with him, he put her down and she slept. Later on, she did the same thing with the Nanny, and just wouldn’t be consoled. We headed off to the doctor, if nothing else but for that scream, and as it turns out? She’s just fine. She may be coming down with a cold or something, according to her pediatrician, but so far since we’ve been home, she’s taken a whole bottle and napped. It also could be that she’s going through that Week 12 leap, according to The Wonder Weeks, which is one my favorite “parenting” books.

(Quotes used because The Wonder Weeks doesn’t tell you how to parent but explains the developmental leaps all babies go through, what the signs are when they’re going through one, and what parents can do when they’re happening.)

Two of her catnaps today, incidentally, took place in the car both to and from the doctor’s, which for the past seven weeks she’s hated with the fiery passion of 10,000 suns.

I was happy to learn that we don’t need to wake Abigail up in the middle of the night to feed her – I was admittedly a little worried that part of today’s crabfest was due to her sleeping from 7:30 p.m. till 6 a.m., and I was going to be told to wake her up, which would have killed me since I don’t think you should wake a sleeping baby, especially one who’s healthy and growing like a weed (five ounces since Friday!).

I wish I could explain exactly what we did that made this work, but there isn’t anything. We stuck with it, of course, when she just did not want to stay sleeping in her crib. But, she just is who she is, I think, and as much as she was a total hellion for eight weeks, why she’s not now is equally unexplainable. And like I said, it’ll change over time, and we’ll have some rough nights again, but by all accounts we’re making it over the newborn hump, and, I think she’s got some pretty good sleeping habits going. I know family sleeping is a good fit some folks, but it’s not for us.

Our nanny is wonderful. I sort of want to break down in tears whenever I think about it – and, really, songs like Pink’s “Perfect” should not cause me to bawl but there you go, of course now I’ve just watched the video and OMG – but I know Abigail’s going to be in great hands while I’m at work. Even today, when I wanted to let our nanny go early because Abigail was so fussy and I felt awful, she insisted on staying. I know it’s her job, but still.

I’m grateful I had her start early. Abigail is going to be just fine. It’s me I’m worried about. Kidding. Sort of. I told our nanny (I’m purposely not using her name, BTW, lest one of you thinks I just like saying “our nanny”) that she was really here to nanny me, more than Abigail. Her response?

“I’m happy to be here to take care of you guys.”

*Heart. Melt.*

Today I ran out to CVS.  I could feel everyone’s eyes on me because really? I look atrocious today. I’m in the exact same clothes from yesterday. I haven’t brushed my teeth or my hair. I got a facial yesterday and so my face is a bit red and rough. I’m certain I probably smell like a combination of body odor, regurgitated formula and despair. Which is ridiculous but there you go.

So when I was at the cashier line, I said to the woman at the register, “Sigh. Today is just one of those days.”

Her response? “Don’t I know it? I could use a vacation. Of course, I’m pregnant and about to go on maternity leave.”

I squealed and congratulated her, which threw me considering I don’t squeal, especially about pregnancy news, especially not lately and especially surprising considering that today felt like death warmed over. But I did, and she said she was excited but sore, and I said I experienced the same and that I hoped she felt better soon. I didn’t want to give her advice or pry too much, remembering how I felt at that moment myself in February. But here is what I did say:

“You are going to be great. You are. You’re going to be a great mom.”

“Ha! Well, since you said so, I’m going to believe it.”

“In the next few weeks, you just remember the random woman who came into CVS who said I’m going to be just great. Because you are.”

She smiled and thanked me and laughed. I smiled back. I really hope she remembers that. If she doesn’t, I really hope someone in her life will tell her what a great mom she is. No matter what.