JH started sleeping through the night around july 4th. And I mean sleeping. Until almost 7am. After going to sleep around 8pm. The pleasure lasted for almost two months, until the joyful evil that is teething started in earnest (two bottom teeth already through, and we think there may be up to four more working on coming in). Recently, he has been waking up pre-ass-crack-of-dawn (usually between 3:30-5am), which has not lended itself to us getting a full night’s sleep.
Such is life with a baby.
Back in July, though, something happened one night that I asked MC to write about, which I present here (slightly edited):
One long day after work, after dinner was done and the kitchen cleaned up and the baby fed I was tired and worn out. I had put the baby in his crib hoping that he would doze off on his own. I had made it downstairs to do something, I’m sure having to do with cleaning up when I heard my husband talking. (side note- we have a baby monitor in the baby’s room with one of the receivers in our living room.) I stopped what I was doing to listen and see just who my husband was talking too. I walked upstairs and stopped in front of the baby’s bedroom. There was my husband standing in the dark with the glow of his iPad illuminating his face as he looked over the crib, reading. He was reading Winnie the Pooh to the baby. As I peered over the crib the baby lay there with his hands clasped in front of him staring intently up at his daddy as he read to him. It made my crankiness disappear to watch these two in their private father son moment. My husband glanced up, smiled at me, and went back to reading.