Monday, February 22, 2010

Sleep and other things that get taken for granted.

There's a Jewish folk tale about a man who has a whole bunch of children. He goes to the Rabbi and says, "Rabbi my house is so noisy and chaotic that I can't think, it's driving me crazy!" and the Rabbi says "Go home and bring your chickens into the house with you." So the man goes home and lets the chickens come in the house which of course only makes the situation worse. So he goes back to the Rabbi and says "I brought the chickens into the house like you asked but it only made it worse." "Well, now bring the donkey into the house." And so it goes. Finally the Rabbi tells him to take all of the animals out of the house and put them back in the barn. The next week he comes to the Rabbi and says "Rabbi! Thank you, my house is so peaceful and quiet!"

I wouldn't say that it's quiet around here just yet, but there have been several developments that are making my life seem much more peaceful. First of all Ragnarson has switched from telling me: "I pooped in my diaper," to "I want to poop in the potty." This is just about the most beautiful phrase I have ever heard. I'm also hearing more "I need to go pee." and less "I peed" which has cut down on laundry considerably (although I still feel like Mad Eye Moody when it comes to laundry: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!).

The other big development is that Ragnarson, who belongs to the Homo Noturinlus branch of the species, has been spending nights in his own bed. This is not so much a change in his nighttime habits, but in mine. Instead of just pulling him up into the "big bed" (never has a Queensized bed felt so small as when it has two adults, a toddler made entirely of elbows and a nursing baby in it) I have been getting up and taking him to the bathroom (I want to NOT pee in the POTTTEEEEEEEEE *sob sob*) and laying back down with him in his bed....until Ragnarbaby wakes up of course and then I have to move back to the big bed. Musical beds doesn't sound that restful, but it turns out that between me tossing and turning with insomnia, and Ragnarson elbowing him, Ragarbaby was waking up much more often...and when you're four months old, being awake means wanting to eat. The end result of this midnight hour bed swapping is that last night, for the first time in I have no idea HOW long, I got more than five hours of sleep. I literally feel a little bit drunk...

I'm hoping that the next big milestone will be the end (I would settle for diminishment really) of ridiculous temper tantrums (I want NOT that SPOON!) and ceaseless whining...a mother can hope, right? mean beds are for sleeping? huh.


tracy_a said...

Great folk tale. And glad you are getting a bit more sleep.

So are you ready to host a sleepover for 2-year-olds? I've got one to volunteer to the cause :)

Ragnar said...

Oh so funny! I am however up for another knit-together if you are interested. I'll even host if that's easier for you.