In which I need a martini, a cigarette and possibly a quaalude.

This post is rushed but I suppose my brain isn't functioning enough to do otherwise anyhow.

The computer at my parent's house is in the same room as the crib.

This has some major disadvantages, like being able to write

when I don't have a fussy baby climbing on me.

Day 1 of nighttime bottle weaning/ sleep training started last night.

I feel like we both deserve some kind of purple heart for making it thru.

Although I don't really feel like I made it through in one piece.

I'm so tired I have that jittery feeling of partying all night and getting no sleep...

that is if by "partying all night" is code for Chinese water torture.

We started a little after the time he's been falling asleep normally (so 10 pm)

and then he cried for an hour, with B checking on him regularly.

I was at the other end of the house,

next to the TV speaker, trying to read a book and not listen to the crying.

When he finally fell asleep I thought that maybe I was going to survive this.

At 10 months old I could deal with some crying.

We could do this!

Think about the nights of sleep we'd get in the future!

Hooray!

I see rainbows in the future!

Tra La La!

About an hour later B & I were in bed.

It's just not the same rest in a bed that isn't your own, you know?

And there was the dog.  Snoring.  Loudly.

And then there was this whole reverse sneezing fiasco.

O.M.G.

With me trying to stop Gingerbread from waking Peanut.

And it kept happening.

Over and over again.

If you don't know what I'm talking about check out THIS video.

Now I want you to picture a silent house around 12:30 am and then around 1:15 am

around then sometime in the 2ish area.

Add some frayed nerves. 

And the bed was too soft.

And the house was creaky.

And Peanut's mattress squeaks whenever he moves.

And then he woke up and I went to get his bottle.

I wasn't really worried about this part of the night much.

He had slept about 4 1/2 hours and I thought we were past the worst.

Oh but I was wrong.

After the bottle he cried for 2 hours.

Two. Hours.

2 hours and I had to stop going in to check on him because he would get even more hysterical.

He was dripping sweat and screaming.

Heck, I'm dripping sweat just thinking about it.

Honestly the angrier he was the better I felt.

It was the whimpring and desperate crying that had my nerves exploding.

Eventually he was ready for the next bottle and I woke B up

(who at this point was sleeping peacefull upstairs!!)

I know, can you believe it.

Oh to be blessed with selective hearing.

He took an ounce, cried and screamed some more, while I toyed with the idea of leaving and going...

well to Hawaii or something.

Anywhere with silence and cocktails and without a child I'm torturing.

Eventually he fell asleep for about 30 minutes which was just enough time

for me to remember what it was like when all the muscles in your body unclenched.

I think B & I both sighed in relief.

A great big sigh.

Said sigh must have been so loud it woke up Peanut.

All the muscels in my body reclenched.

I broke out into a cold sweat.

He cried for another 30 mintues and then it was morning!

Good morning!

I'll take 1 pot of coffee via IV please.

I got him up and he played happily for several hours before his first nap.

Like the day was bright and happy and full of new discoveries.

Like he hadn't gotten a mere 5 hours of sleep.

Not that I would know because I had about 4 hours, broken up and fitful.

All I have to say is...

pass me the quaaludes.

Are they for me, for the Peanut or for the damn dog?

Perhaps for all of us.

No, B doesn't need any but I'll take two thanks.

I have to go now.... round 2 is here.

PS My birthday is tomorrow (Tuesday) so please focus all your birthday wishes into a miracle that involves sleep and dreams of puppies and chocolate motherlode cake and wash board abs.

Thanks.