Sweet dreams

Before this week, I couldn’t tell you the last dream I had. Apparently, one has to sleep in order to dream. But this week, I’ve had dreams almost every night, which is good or bad depending on the dream, but which is ALL good to me because it means I’m getting that very important thing called shuteye.

For no apparent reason at all, James has suddenly gone from sleeping four or five hours at a stretch to slumbering for a good seven or even nine hours uninterrupted. This means that I not only get the five straight hours my body prefers, but even eight if I get to bed in a reasonable amount of time. This week, I have had time to take care of the kids and the house, and check my email and write blog entries. If he keeps this up, I’m going to be one spoiled mommy.

All this sleeping means James is up a lot more during the day. Luckily his cranky spells have pretty well subsided save for about an hour’s worth of “iffy” moods before bedtime. Now he spends his days bouncing on my knees with his sister, being read to and playing on his Gymini. He especially enjoys a good round of his favorite song, “Roly Poly” — it is, in fact, his first favorite anything — and today he got his very own blue Bumbo (photos are forthcoming) and had a nice little sit, with a giddy Maddi alongside him in her nearly-outgrown but much-beloved purple one.

Now that I have a baby instead of a newborn, I’m feeling a lot more energetic and human most days. Of course, there are always those other days when the kids are fighting and gassy and teething and we’re running late everywhere and Maddi’s got boogers and Fig Newton on her face and has pulled her ponytail and barrette out and James has pooped on his outfit and then pooped on his backup outfit and then Maddi, not to be outdone, poops her outfit and my debit card doesn’t work at the pump and I leave the wipes in the McDonald’s washroom and have spitup on my shirt and Cheerios stuck to my butt, but I guess you’re probably not a parent if you’ve never had one of those days. Besides, that’s what Prozac is for.

And it’s all worth it at the end of the day after I’ve eaten and unwound a little and go into the bedroom to behold James sleeping in his swing with a sweet little smile on his face.

Yes, he still sleeps in his swing. We’re working on that. I’m just not ready to give up my seven to nine hours yet!

And here’s a shot of James at 16 weeks:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.