Mads is usually a really good sleeper. Bath at 6:30, lotion, boob, story, and bed by 7:30ish. At around midnight, when I'm finally ready to give up on the day, I grab the babe from her crib and take her to bed with me, where she stays until morning. That way, I get about four hours to either spend by myself, or to spend with Jeffrey catching up on the day (insert wink face here). Great system! Or it used to be. The routine is the same, but for about three nights now, keeping Mads in the crib until midnight has been a nightmare. She's up every half hour, not hungry, just lonely, and Jeffrey and I have to alternate rocking her back to sleep. Last night I decided to try something new, instead of putting her in the crib when she fell asleep, I took her straight to the big bed with me, intending to sneak out when I was sure she wasn't going to get back up. I stared at the ceiling, bored to tears. Every half hour, Mads would roll over, reach her pudgy little arm out and smack me in the face. Roll back, wait, smack in the face. I'm dying. It's 9:00pm and I'm laying in the dark, being beaten by a five month old. So tonight, I knew I wasn't going to be able to take that shit again. I can't go to bed at 7:30. I can't, and I won't. I ever so gently explained to Madelynn that she was going to have to sleep by herself until midnight, and I even pinky swore that I would not be late. Well I guess she doesn't do well with promises. At around 8:30, I lost all that niceness and flat out told the little snot that I was not going to go to bed this early, and she was just going to have to suck it up and deal.
It's 9:45, and I'm typing this in bed with Mady's arm flung over my thigh. What a little shit.