I was thinking the other day (actually, every day) that I haven’t slept through the night for well over a year now. Do you know what that can do to a person??? Oh, Wo is me. Then I tried to think about how lucky I was that that remote possibility was even a possibility sometime in the future. I live in a peaceful country. No one is shooting at me, not even in my general direction. I don’t have to worry about random house-to-house searches in my neighborhood. I have a secure, warm house and a belly full of food, and I know it will probably still be full when I wake up and I’ll still have a house full of food, too. I have an awesome bed. I can sleep right smack in the middle with all of the pillows I want. I don’t have to work at night. The person waking me each night, multiple times, is still super cute and I can’t be angry at her for that. I don’t have anxiety that keeps me awake. I don’t hear voices. I don’t have poltergeists. I don’t have to be up at an unreasonable hour the next morning. The list goes on and on. I guess it was kind of like counting sheep to think about all of these things. It didn’t help me sleep, though.
I must have something to gain from not sleeping for the first year. Patience, perhaps? Neither of the boys slept through the night until well after 12 months. It was rough, especially with Gus, because I was already tired from chasing around a toddler by the time he came along. Poor kid. But once they did sleep through the night, they both did it like champs. They weren’t up a million times after going down, like some kids I know (Amy). They were just in bed, then out for the night. Unfortunately, they were also up pre-dawn the next morning fully recharged, but I will take what I can get.
And so I expected nothing more or less from this little girl, and she has upheld her end so far. But last night I had high hopes. She slept about 8 hours straight, a downright record for her. Then who should disturb my slumber? Gus, of course, coughing his lungs out. I had to get up and medicate him and send him back to his room, as he was wandering around the house like a zombie. Maybe tonight.
Greta is starting to be very independent. She can say a lot of words (more like her specific word for a specific thing). Lots of things sound like “doggie,” but with different intonations. She is also honing her tantrum skills. She gets mad when you don’t pay attention to her when she wants something. She throws herself back, screams, crocodile tears and all. It’s kind of funny. She is also trying to walk. She takes short jaunts between furniture, but also stands up out in the open and takes a few steps, falls, and does it again and again. She loves to play fetch with Trousers. They both seem to enjoy it, and Trousers is a good sport and usually lets her have the ball. She loves balls!
This past weekend we had our annual gingerbread house decorating party. We had two families over. They both had small kids. The boys are such good sports about accommodating other people’s wild children. It wasn’t that bad, but next year I said we should just have their friends over instead. We had 6 houses; one for each family, and 3 to give away. We took two of the houses to some of our neighbors. I wanted the boys to sing, too, but they would have none of that witchcraft.
Over Thanksgiving we went to the Air and Space Museum. I had to share the picture. I can’t stop laughing! My head looks so small, and Greta’s so big!