Want Some Popcorn?

You know that feeling after you've just ended a bad relationship, that mix of elation and dread? One minute you're happily belting out the Soupdragon's "I'm Free" and the next you're furtively throwing popcorn at the couple making out in front of you at the movie theater? (Um, that wasn't me. I'm just imagining here. You know, creative license.)

Last night I ended a bad relationship. Or rather, a bad part of a relationship. As this is really one of those relationships that never ends, just evolves. . .

ChunkyMonkey slept in another room last night.

A couple of months ago, ChunkyMonkey slept through the night, or only woke up once. But as he's gotten older, he's actually become a worse sleeper. I think he was bothered when Hot Guy and I came to bed, often at separate times. And I think I was so bothered by any noises he made in the night that I may have been a little too attentive. Suffice to say, this past week he's been waking every hour and a half.

So I have ended the first stage of our relationship. We're now sleeping in separate rooms.

When I went to bed last night, I felt a moment of freedom and joy as I flipped on the overhead light and the TV. And I think ChunkyMonkey felt it was right as well, since he slept from 8pm until 4:45am, and then went back to sleep until 7am. I haven't been so well-rested since. . .since that brief period when he was sleeping through the night.

But waking up this morning, well, I felt a little bit of the dread. A little bit of the "my last baby sleeps better without me and doesn't need me quite so much anymore" feeling. And thus I am tempted to throw popcorn at passing moms with newborns.

I won't, of course.

At least, not until ChunkyMonkey stops nursing and I'm really, really free. And sad.

Thank You, Mom and Dad

Lovebug stopped nursing in June. When he was fifteen months old. I shouldn't say "stopped", I should say "was weaned off the boob more carefully than the average heroin addict going into rehab". Nonetheless, Lovebug is no longer nursing. In the last four months, I've had three nights without my children (yes, those are the only nights ever). They have spent the night with their grandparents. I have gotten drunk and slept late.

Except for last night. Because night off #3 was not for a special occasion, other than that of the Triplezmom-is-going-insane variety. What last night was really about, in fact, was this morning. Last night was nice because we ate dinner while watching Ugly Betty and I didn't eat any vegetables. Or anything that would set a good example for my children.

But today was even better because I slept until after 9am. Then I just made one breakfast (Hot Guy's ability to sleep late is legendary, I will have to wake him to go to grandma and grandpa's) and read Time magazine while I ate it. Now I'm blogging with no interruptions (you'd think this would be a better blog, wouldn't you?).

I wonder if I could convince my parents to take them EVERY Saturday?

Broken Hearted

Last night at about 11, I heard whimpering from Lovebug's room. I sighed loudly, as he has not been sleeping through the night for more than a couple of months (the move ruined his sleep for a long while). And it's really only been in the last few weeks that he has been settling down without a few minutes of crying. So I went cautiously into his room, envisioning a few more months of disturbed sleep and wondering what had set him off this time.

I felt his forehead (fine) and asked him what he needed. "Do you need Mommy?" I asked, ready to lift him up.

He hardly looked at me and said, "Meeee-ahhh,", which is way of saying "Meow". Then he continued to grab at things in his crib. Just as I asked, "Do you want kitty?" he found kitty and settled back down. He pulled his own blanket down and snuggled with kitty. He didn't need me at all. I said, "Good night, I love you," and walked out of the room. He didn't even murmur.

This was the child that had defied every sleeping and self-soothing strategy I could find. This was the child who would not settle down for anyone else until he was 11 months old. This was the child who was the bad sleeper. What the heck has happened?

My baby isn't a baby anymore. I realize that he only says about seven words (up,down,yessss, NO!, meow, duck,yeah) consistently. I know that he still doesn't even care if his diaper is dirty. But last night was a huge step towards the day when I won't even know if he's up in the middle of the night. And that kinda breaks my heart. Even if it does mean I can now sleep through the night myself.