Here's the funny thing about sleep deprivation: every little thing that used to be important to me has taken a back seat to my new and only goal...getting you to sleep, or at the very least, relax. This might be what people are talking about when they mention a parent's sacrifice. And of course it must be so. If we choose to have a child, we are also making a choice to put that child first. For me, that means you. For your mama too.
And thank god for your mama (and you should thank her too, when you get older). Here's why.
Last night, you were freaking out. You were hot and sweaty. We fed you, changed your diaper (about 20 times!). We did everything we could do to make you feel better, but still you cried. Crying babies can be cute, so let me re-phrase that. Last night you wailed.
Here's where sleep deprivation comes back into play. You slept pretty well all day yesterday up until 10pm and onward. Of course, this is the time we are sleepy, and after 3+ weeks of not sleeping too much, our sleepy times are REALLY sleepy.
So last night nothing seemed to make you feel better. Maybe you had gas (you fart a lot), that probably was painful. I know you were not hungry. But I can't help too much with stomach gas so you just continued to cry. Mama was helping to clean the house, do some laundry or something, so she wasn't in the living room. It was just you and me. I was trying and trying to calm you down but you just cried and cried. Finally, I just yelled, "What the F*%k!"
I feel bad about this now. I feel terrible that I said a bad word to you (I don't think you noticed because you just continued to cry). I shouldn't use that word. I don't want you to say that word, at least not until you are older and wiser. Your mama though is a wonderful person. She quickly came back into the living room and smiled at me and took you into her arms (maybe she was rescuing you?). She gave me a soft kiss and I walked away to take a break.
Of course, today I feel terrible. You're a baby. You only have a few things you can do right now and crying is one of those things. I know this, but I let my frustration get the better of me. Sorry kiddo. I'll do my best to take a deep breath before I say a bad word. Mamas and papas are supposed to be good examples for their kids.
Now, I know you are going to cry more. I know I won't be able to stop your crying every time. And maybe I will never know why you are crying like you cried last night.
Or will I?
This weekend, you were sleeping in my arms. You're usually a peaceful sleeper, but this time you were moving a little bit. I looked down and noticed this:
I can only surmise that you have some sort of internal heavy metal soundtrack going on in your head. During the day time this is probably pleasant. You can rock out to the sounds of Ronnie James Dio and Iron Maiden and devil horn it up to your heart's content. I can only further surmise that at night this becomes annoying to you and you wish that soundtrack would just turn off so you could snooze.
To help, I am devising a plan to de-metal your internal soundtrack at night by slowly introducing soothing sounds starting at the 8pm hour. It is my hope that a couple hours of Enya and sounds of the rain forest will turn the tide against Black Sabbath and by midnight or so you'll be in new age dreamland.
If this doesn't work, I'll come up with a new plan. But I promise this much: I won't let it slip my mind that you are a baby, and babies cry. You keep doing what you are doing, we're so happy to hear your voice.
