Last night was one of those nights where I really thought Brooke would be an only child. Then I woke up to little smacks on my chest, and a big smile on my baby's face and figured eh, we can have 10 more, bring it on! Well... I can't have 10 more, stupid c-section and pocketbook. But we're open :)
It was a night where she fell right asleep. Bliss. I went .7 miles away to look at a house with my brother, best friend (who will be my sister in law), and mother. Come on, I HAD to go, my brother actually called me close to a million times yesterday. I can't even remember the last time he called me. The fact that he invited me to look at this house was a huge step. He likes me again, and that makes me get emotional. Man, we used to be best friends. We'd talk for hours, shop together, nap together, watch tv and movies together, talk guys/girls together. Then I dated/married one of his best friends... now he is planning to do the same to me, and he is finally talking to me again. Anyway, it was great to see this house, and know that my girl was asleep.
I think she smelled me or something, because within 10 minutes of getting home she was awake. She probably thought it was a nap or something.
It was one of those nights where you give her back the paci and she sleeps for 10 minutes, so you just let her get up because you're close to positive she thought it was a nap.
One of those nights when she is smiling so much, she can't be tired. She is cooing, talking and squealing. (And, her eyes are not red, which is the sure sign of exhaustion.)
She starts to yawn so you lay her down, mass hysteria. You pick her up, do a little bouncing, kisses, "shhh shhhhhhhh" es. Lay her down, she buys it.
Then she fusses, you play hot dog on the grill. You know the game, tummy, side, back, side, tummy, back. "Child, GO to sleep!" you whisper.
You walk out of the room, victory, for 25 seconds.
Your husband takes over, because you've played hot dog on the grill for close to 45 minutes and are quite bleary eyed.
He plays bounce, set, bounce set to no avail. He is covered in spit up, she is covered, it is disgusting.
She talks, gurgles, coos.
So finally, we all give. FINE child, it is bedtime for the whole family, apparently. We lay her down, and she will not stop talking.
What is wrong? Tears stream down my face because I am her mom, and I don't know what is wrong.
I feed her.
I bounce her.
One of those nights, but I KNOW something is wrong, because this kid does not cry unless something is wrong. So, we give her Tylenol. She doesn't have a fever, but something is wrong, and we are out of ideas.
Finally daddy gets the lotion, I strip her down and start rubbing her belly in clockwise circles, screaming gets louder and finally, giggles.
Massive farts her Papa would be proud of and some poops.
We change her pants, put her back in bed and blood curdling screams, I rub her belly again... shocking, more poops. So, we change her... again.
So, not only has it been a hot dog, bouncy down, clean pants/dirty kind of a night, but honestly, I can't keep my eyes open anymore and it is only 10:30. Pathetic I say.
She finally went down in her own bed and all was calm. Right as I fell asleep she fussed.
Daddy gets the "it's not worth it" face and baby is in bed with Mom and Dad.
We're still not sure what it was last night, but we all got a good night's sleep thank God.
And she went down like a champ for her nap today... after talking to herself for 30 minutes.
It kind of feels like a victory, even though I am checking her every 10 minutes since she is belly sleeping.
Oh those nights, you make mommying pretty difficult, but goodness are those smiles and giggles so worth it. Thank you for the happiest baby around, smiling even through her gas pains. Man, I am beyond blessed to share in those nights.