Yawn

Well, I tried to go to bed early tonight to address my sleep debt but Ivan’s up and therefore we all are. John tries to tire him out with holding him close to his chest, playing Nat King Cole, Castro lies on the bed with his ears back in an effort to drown out the fussing. I’m flummoxed: Ivan should be exhausted; he hasn’t napped for more than a half hour here and there, he’s had plenty of activity today and no more teeth coming in (he grew two over the last couple weeks).
You know when parents say, ‘oh it’s just a phase, he’ll grow out of it’, ha, what is not discussed is that even the good patterns your child falls into can only be just a phase. At one point we had a baby who was sleeping eight hours through the night with a single night time feed we now have a little special someone who wakes every three hours to scream at us until we lift him out of his crib. I think I need to brush up on my lullabies. There isn’t one soothing song I can sing the words to so I make them up as I go. Here’s the latest, but it's sort of like a rain dance: “Go to sleep baby boy, go to sleep my precious Ivan, go to sleep. Time for bed little Ivan, close your eyes baby Ivan, go to sleep.” He’s still awake. So sorry if I don’t return your calls: my phone is turned off on the random chance he will be finally dosing and a call comes in. I’m beginning to think I should do away with one of my most cherished morning routines, a hot cuppa coffee. What’s the point? Usually when I’m ready to enjoy it, Ivan decides to have his longest nap of the day, one half hour, and I should follow suit.