Saturday, December 29, 2007

All The World's A Haze

As I sit here, my seven month-old daughter, Cora is fussing in her "pack and play" (what normal folks used to call a playpen) trying to convince mommy that despite the rubbing of the eyes and the cranky disposition, she is in no way in need of a nap. And before I could even finish typing that sentence, she is out like a light. Score one for mommy. And mommy needs one. Last night was a long night. Not only did we have to deal with the teething monster (the top two this time), we had to deal with the "my grandma took care of me all day since daycare was closed and I have been spoiled to pieces" vibe. Don't get me wrong, I am simply glad Grandma 1) could watch her yesterday, and 2) cares enough to spoil her rotten - that is what Grandma's do. But my little one was up about 3 or 4 times last night and since its Saturday, mommy is the one who gets to be the early riser once she wakes for the day at 6:00am (Daddy gets this shift during the week so its only fair). Did I mention waking at 5:30 to the sound of our lab, Summit, vomiting in the living room. Good times. Needless to say it was a full-caffeine morning for me.

I went to lunch yesterday with a fellow mommy-friend who's little boy, Eli, is about 3 weeks older than Coco. Eli is what most would call a "sleeper" -- he sleeps through the night just about every night. I call that a miracle child. Apparently, Eli learned to suck on his fingers instead of a paci and so his mommy never wakes up bleary eyed at 2:00am to stumble down the hall, grope for the displaced paci and "plug the hole" before stumbling back to bed (hoping that she doesn't fall down the staircase she passes along the way). My friend said to me yesterday "I just don't know how you do it. If Eli gets up once in the night I am shot the next day". Yeaaaaahhhhh. I like my friend very much most days, but at that point I was torn between wanting to shove her straw down her throat and wanting to proudly display my Mommy Bronze Star for bravery in battle. I felt superior yet inferior at the same time. Yes I deal with all the night waking, but no my child does not sleep through the night. In the end I comforted myself with the thought that pacis, unlike fingers, can ultimately be taken away; and imagined little Eli at 5 years old in all his bucktoothed glory. Yes its wrong, and no I don't care.

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