Richard’s been working a
lot of over time lately. Maryland Live’s
poker room opens at the end of this month, so Richard’s taking advantage of all
the over time he can squeeze in before Charles Town becomes Ghost Town. (Although, we hope that isn’t really the case… A single income household really does require
a single income to sustain.)
And I miss him when he’s
gone. For a variety of reasons. Primarily, because I love him and I love
having him around. But a very, very
close second is because we have these two, beautiful babies. Trying to juggle the two of them during the
day is tough enough. Someone is always
hungry or needing changed. There are
always empty sippy cups to be refilled, toys to retrieve from places I didn’t
know my 16 month old could reach, or spit-up to wipe up. I’m not complaining! I love my job as a SAHM. All I mean to say is that there is always,
always something to do.
When Richard gets home
at the end of his work day (usually between 7:30 and 8:30 in the evenings), I
am really ready for his capable (and exhausted in their own right) hands to
clean a dirty butt.
Right now, our routine
is to divide and conquer! He puts Sam
down and I take Sophie. When he’s not
home in time to get the girls into bed…
Well, things can get interesting pretty quickly. That is why we spent the past two nights at
my parents’ house. Tonight, the third
night in his string of three doubles, I was on my own.
After a very busy and
fun weekend with their grandparents, playing outside, and being further off
their schedules that I usually allow, I knew that getting them into bed on my
own would be a treat.
I figured I’d start
with the baby.
Our living room is
pretty well baby-proofed, so my plan was to let Sam play with the dog while I
changed Sophie and got her settled in. I
did most of her nursing in the living room, but knew it would take a few
minutes to “cap her off” and “knock her out.”
As I tried to shuffle the baby and the diaper bag (with her pj’s,
monitor, and diapers from the weekend), Sam managed to scoot between my legs
into Sophie’s room. Okay, fine. Join me then.
I can handle this.
Sam went directly for
the basket of Nuks I keep on the table in Sophie’s room. Readily available stoppers to keep Sophie
from waking Sam. Harmless, I tell myself
as I begin getting Soaps ready for bed.
I peek over my shoulder at Sam several times as she tries on Nuk after
Nuk. It’s cute and she’s well
entertained. I’m feeling great about my
plan. Once Sophie is thoroughly swaddled
and ready to be rocked one last time, I turn to usher Sam out of the room. As I do, I see my dimpled darling crouched on
the floor with a q-tip jammed in her ear!
Shit! How on earth did she get a q-tip!? I wrestle it away, check the cotton tip for
blood or strange fluid or any indication that she might have dug too deep,
assess her head for any sign of injury, and marvel at my 16 month old’s grasp
of what a q-tip is used for. After all,
Mommy’s not really as good as she should be about the girls’ “Spa Day” (which
includes clipping finger nails, toe nails, cleaning ears, and the like). It tends to be a once-every-other-week sort
of thing, right now.
She’s fine. Thank goodness. I usher her out of the room. Sophie goes down like a ton of bricks. I knew she was worn out and was very grateful
that she fell asleep quickly. Now I move
on to the 25+ pound tornado in the living room…
I get her changed. That takes about twenty minutes. She stays still long enough to have the
diaper removed and then wriggles out of my grasp and takes off. I chase her down, rinse and repeat. One item per sitting is about all she can
handle. Once the clothes are finally on
her tiny little body, I scoop her up and settle in for a good book. I’m actually really excited. Richard usually does this part with Sam and while
we stayed at my parents’, my mom put Sam to sleep. I grab two of her favorite books (Fox in
Socks and Hop on Pop). She doesn’t want
either of them. Every book I touch, she
refuses.
Now, I know some of my
friends would say, “why give her a choice?”
Well, not doing so results in her kicking the book out of my hands. At which point, I hear them say, “then she
doesn’t need a book.” Yes, I agree with
you in principle… However, putting her
in her crib at this time with result in hours – yes, it could be hours – of screaming,
crying, and general misery for all parties.
And Sophie’s asleep. So, I’ll
make the extra effort to find the book she wants to read.
Good Night Moon. Found it.
Great. We read it three
times. I don’t usually do this, but I’m
really loving this cuddle time and I know that she’s not going down easily
tonight. Too much excitement. No Daddy. So I’m indulging her a little. We sing about
fifty songs and I’m pooped. Time for
bed, kiddo.
No dice.
I let her cry for about
a half an hour. They are weak cries and
mostly babble. But she’s getting louder
rather than quieter and I’m starting to worry she’s going to wake Sophie. So I trudge back to Sam’s room, heft her back
to the rocker, and snuggle in again.
After singing the Swimming Pool song about 20 times, I decide that’s
enough of that. We rock in silence for a
blissful and blessed five minutes. She’s
lying contentedly in my arms and looking at me while she’s playing with the
pull strings on my PJ bottoms. I’m in
total and complete Mommy Heaven.
Then she starts to
babble. She’s saying every single word
in her arsenal about ten times each and in every voice inflection she’s
learned. It’s adorable. It’s endearing. I’m. So. Tired.
This is probably one of
the hardest moments for me. When Sara
just wants to go to bed, but Mom knows that this bundle of joy needs about
fifteen to twenty more minutes of snuggles before passing out. I have a lot of love to give and a very long
line of patience, but at the end of the day it’s pretty well used up.
I manage to dip into my
reserves and just melt and marvel in her amazingness. Cause I am totally and completely in love
with these little girls.
I tuck Sam in and it’s
10:00pm. Yikes! Well, I knew it was going to be a long
process. Just to make sure everyone is
down for the night, I go out and pick up my book to read a chapter or two. Then, I’ll head to bed. At least that was the plan…
Since then, I have been
back with Sophie three times (each entrance to her room was marked by a
delighted squeal and a HUGE grin, so how could I possibly be frustrated) and
Sam once more. It’s now 1am. It’s been fifteen minutes since I last left
Sophie and I think this time might be the last…
Maybe she’ll sleep in a little longer in the morning…? If I have to go in there again, I might have
to bring my own pillow and blanket…
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