Or the lack there of

Please. Pleeeease. I just need some sleep. These night wakings are doing me in.

And the crying-it-out thing in the middle of the night just doesn’t feel right. Cause how do you really know what the crying’s about?

His first molar erupted last week, and the one above it is peeking through red and swollen gums. Owww. He’s definitely teething.

Is he catching that fever his big sister has? Temp check says 98.6. No fever now, but I’m on watch.

Was that drippy nose today giving him post nasal drip? Oh, no. Please, not another cold.

I saw him tugging at his ear again today… could he be getting ANOTHER ear infection? Cringe. Oh, please, no.

Does he have a dirty diaper?  No, just a little wet one. But now he’s got a fresh one. Check.

With all this dry heated air, is he parched? Humidifier is full of water. Check. Ok. Got sippy-cup with water in the dark. “Try this, baby. Wow, you drank a few really big gulps!”. Check.

Is he waking up to practice his new, most exciting skill to date, walking?

Is he hungry? He sure does act like it, when he came into bed with us he nursed for almost an hour. No joke. How could that be? He eats A LOT during the day. Maybe he’s just in the habit of waking and nursing. Most likely the case. He’ll actually hold on to my nipple until he falls asleep. Sometimes, he gets a good grip with his teeth. Sometimes I can coax him off, albeit reluctantly.

Then he’ll cry. Shhhhh. DadD’s sleeping. Shhhhhh. Your big sister’s sleeping. Shhhh. On my back, I roll him up onto my chest, and he begins to fall asleep on top of me.

I love holding him this way. He’ll calm himself, snuggling into the comfy spot: arms tucked under him, head buried in my neck.

BUT it’s 4:10am. And because I’m so tired, I may fall asleep too. But then hours later my rib cage feels like a panini sandwhich and my neck’s in a crick. BUT, he’s sleeping. And I’m awake right now. What to do? Stay? Go put him in his bed? Yes, to his bed he goes.

Maybe I can get another 2 hours? Maybe?

So I slowwwly, holding my breath, get up (which is a feat in and of itself) and tip-toe over our annoyingly crickety wood floors , and ever so carefully, reach over the side rail and (crick-criiiick) release him onto his crib mattress. And then (crick-criiiiick) with fingers crossed sneak the hell out of there and (crick-criiiiick) crawl back in bed and sleep on the wet spot where he was nursing.

My instinct jars me. I glance at the clock. 5:03am. Go back to sleep.

Wait.

Whaaaaa!

Crash and burn.

Crick-criiiiick……