The number one comment I received while pregnant went something along the lines of, "You can kiss sleep goodbye." My sisters and brothers in parenthood were all quick to share their own stories of trauma caused from sleepless nights thanks to new babies, not to scare but in an eager excitement at having another sympathetic in sleeplessness. The baby books spell it out clearly: baby needs to eat every two hours, so you only get to sleep in two-hour bursts--try to sleep when baby sleeps.
So, I was prepared for sleeplessness. When Ezra first arrived, he acted as expected, waking at least three times a night for some booby snacks. He slept really well during the day and I was on maternity leave, so I didn't mind much. But lashing out against the norm, Ezra started waking only once per night by his first month, much to my elation (and to Bo's sanity because he went back to work at that time). And even more back-flipping-while-hula-hooping kind of amazing, Ezra would sleep through the night roughly three nights a week. By two-and-a-half months old, Ezra consistently slept through the night. He slept so well that Bo and I were confident to put him in his own room (he also outgrew the bassinet ahead of schedule). Then, Ezra simply slept through the night, every night.
We didn't know just how lucky we really were until the past week arrived. Sleeping seems to be "so last season" for my little man.
Take last night, for example. Ezra decided to party. All of the usual tricks weren't working. Quiet play time alone in the crib? Yeah right. Bouncing? Nope. Warm nai? Only made him hyper. Soothing sounds and mommy hugs? Get outta here with that mess! Bo and I were exhausted, and we decided that 11:00 P.M. was late enough. It was time for extreme measures. Ezra would grow sleepy in bed with us, and we would put him to bed after he passed out. HA! I'm pretty sure Bo and I fell asleep before the dumpling did. But while dumpling stayed asleep, Bo and I did not. How can something so little take up so much room?! Perhaps he was making up for all the sleepless nights we should have had, but Ezra achieved at least half of the following baby sleep positions last night alone:
He tossed and turned in his sleep, kicked and slapped, jazzed-handed, whimpered, fussed, and farted. "Should we give him a bottle? I think he's hungry." But the doctor said not to do that because he will get used to eating in the middle of the night, every night. "Okay, you're right." Four minutes and three baby punches later, Ezra was drinking warm nai. Then he got a nice, dry diaper. Then he passed out just in time for mommy's morning alarm to sound.
Maybe I should stop putting him in outfits proclaiming the wearer a monster. Self-fulfilling prophecy much?
Note to Ezra: Your nighttime shenanigans put Mommy and Pops into some seriously foul moods this morning. Then you woke up, and smiled all bright and shiny. Immediately we became putty in adorable, sleep-depriving hands. You win . . . for now.
:)
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