Sunday, January 6, 2013

Day 6

Dear Henry,

Let's talk about naps, dude.  You are the nightmare I used to have when I first had your brother about how naps would go.  He lulled me into a false sense of security with his two hour plus naps and sleeping through the night early on and never having any sort of transition issues as far as sleep went.

You.  Sweet Jesus, you kill me.  Even when you were a tiny newborn, when most other tiny newborns loll about for hours on end, you only went about an hour at a stretch.  Now?  We're lucky if you go 30 minutes.  EXCEPT.  It's almost guaranteed that if someone NOT me is watching you, you'll go some absurd length, like three hours (today, for example, while I was out running errands and you were on Daddy's clock).  

You're a BABY.  You're SUPPOSED to sleep.  They've even got cliche sayings about it.  And lately you've been having these outbursts in the middle of the night, either just briefly and going back to sleep (but jarring me well and truly awake) or crying for about an hour, no matter if I soothe you or not, before dropping off again.  Daddy, of course, sleeps through them all.  I.  Do.  Not.  Please, let's just skip all this mess and go straight to teenagerhood where we can't wake you before noon and a nuclear bomb could drop on the house in the middle of the night without you noticing.

Or, please, at the very least, could we get into a friggin' rhythm so my body knows which end is up?  PLEASE.

Love,
Mama

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While making dinner tonight, Charlie was in the kitchen chattering about what kind of snack he'd like while he waited for it to be done cooking (he's a food hound of the highest magnitude).  After cycling through happy dogs and cheese and Henry's puffy puffs, he asked for Percy kisses.

I paused, because (A) "Percy" sounds a lot like another word for kitty when Charlie says it and EXCUSE ME YOUNG MAN WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?! and (B) even when I sorted out that he'd said Percy, I didn't know what the hell he was talking about.  He finally grabbed the baggie off the kitchen island with an exasperated sigh and shoved it at me.

Hershey Kisses.  Lord.

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Henry loves playing with anything of Charlie's.  He will pass up his own toys every time if he has access to some big boy hardware.  His latest thing is playing in Charlie's cardboard "house".  Apparently possession really is 9/10ths of the law and all things are fair game during nap time. 



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