I should have known better than opening my big mouth — I should have known that once I divulged our secret, something bad would happen.
It did.
After five gloriously perfect nights of the Little Lady sleeping through the night (AND sleeping in till around 10 am), she woke up last night.
I had thought that we’d finally achieved infant sleep nirvana — that beautiful stage where your little rat, I mean bundle of joy, FINALLY sleeps through the night. No 11 pm Scream Fest . . . no 2 am Whine Fest . . . no 5 am “Party in my Crib” sessions. We were the parents of a fine, snoozing creature; we were the parents I had envied for 17 and a half months.
Drat!
I had kept it to myself for fear of tempting Murphy’s Law. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 days (and nights) passed. Hubby and I couldn’t believe it — we were finally getting the best sleep of our parental lives.
Till yesterday, when I told TWO people about the Little Lady’s new sleep schedule. Two people — that’s it. My mother-in-law and a friend from our playgroup. Two people.
That’s when Mr. Murphy began his gloating chuckle and our wave of good fortune turned.
11:30 pm, the Little Lady starts whining — her little voice floating across the living room from the baby monitor. I tried staring down said monitor, glaring and threatening for there to be silence.
It didn’t work. The whining soon turned into all out crying and then . . .inconsolable ANGRY screaming. No “cry it out” method now — at this point, she would keep going all night long. So, begrudging every step, I made my way upstairs with bottle in hand. (Yes, we’re still on the bottle — I don’t want to hear it)
She was already standing up in her crib, arms outstretched when I walked in.
She knew I was coming.
She knew the pattern.
She knew that I was whipped.
She laughed when I picked her up.
I think she and Mr. Murphy are communicating somehow . . . and they obviously have it in for Silly Mommy.
