My husband thankfully doesn’t buy into the whole “you’re home with the kids, so the kids are your responsibility” thing. The Davester is a team player. Mostly. Which is great in the middle of the night when you’ve just gone to bed and you’re up an hour later. And two hours after that. And another hour after that.
We’re having sleeping issues up in this piece.
Our poor little Tay has been sick for the last two weeks and that means, no sleep for anyone. Well, Finn could likely sleep through a bomb going off in the house, so he’s blissfully unaware of her night time antics. The Davester and I though?
Sick babies are the suck. You feel so terribly for them because they can’t take anything, they can’t communicate that they feel awful, and they just want to be held.
She coughs and wakes herself up. She sneezes and wakes herself up. She tosses and turns and wakes herself up. He gets her and I nurse her to sleep or pat her back and hold her. Or I go get her and he makes a bottle. When she falls back asleep, he quietly carries her back to her crib.
She finally slept peacefully last night and the Davester is so paranoid that she hasn’t been up, he wakes up in the middle of the night and checks on her just to make sure she’s ok. I was so tired, I slept right through it.
Remember Honey, when being up all night meant something fun?
Yeah, me too.