I had eight and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep last night, which means right now I feel less like this:
And more like this:
I know there are people who say sleep training is cruel, or unnecessary, or not worth the effort, or what have you. And for very young babies, I happen to agree. But for almost ten month olds who yesterday ate:
- a large bowl of oatmeal with blueberres
- 2 small boxes of raisins
- a whole banana
- half an orange
- half a chicken sandwich
- a serving of cheddar cheese
- half a rice cake stolen from another baby
- a salmon fish cake
- a serving of baked beans
- half an apple
- a cup of cow’s milk
- oh, and nursed three times too, don’t forget that
These babies do not need to nurse at night. These babies are not hungry at night. So I night-weaned, and lo, Baby G did stop waking at night every couple of hours just to nuzzle the goods, pat my face, yell for a while, and go back to sleep.
But then I got sick, and then he got sick, and nights were a haze of runny noses, coughing, not-quite-fevers, and misery.
Last night was the first night that both he and I were well enough to sleep. I went to bed at *cough8:45pmcough*, planning to stockpile a few hours at least before one of us was up, and the next thing I knew it was 5AM and he was wanting his usual pre-dawn feeding.
After which we cuddled for a while and then he went back to sleep, holy shit. I stayed up because the house was quiet and frankly my back was sore from lying in one blissfully undisturbed position all night, getting today’s blog post out of the way and thinking about repointing all the brickwork on the house because I just have so much energy, ya’ll.
Sleep. Who knew.