Despite what his onesie may suggest, Miles is actually an excellent sleeper. Emmett, not so much.
Dr. Phil says the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior, so based on that I’m pretty sure Emmett is never going to sleep again. Which means I will never sleep again.
Today he actually took an hour-and-forty-nine-minute nap, the first burst of daytime sleep lasting more than 15 minutes in, I don’t know, weeks. Yet somehow it’s almost 11 and he’s only just fallen asleep — and I’m guessing it’s not going to last.
Last night he slept about 6 hours (after falling asleep mercifully around 9) and then woke up every hour on the hour demanding MORE BOOBIE, STAT! until about 8 a.m. when I gave up and just got both of us up for the day. Thank God Miles is a good sleeper. Otherwise we might all die of sheer exhaustion.
We had a magical two weeks or so when we first put the babies to bed in their own room and they went down at 7:30 and slept 8- to 11- hour stretches. It was glorious. I think of those days fondly as I’m staggering back up the stair to feed a baby YET again in the middle of the night.
I like to think I’m a realist, so I’ve given up entirely on the idea of a bedtime routine happening anytime soon. Our bedtime routine is: at some point the babies fall asleep individually between 6 p.m. and midnight and then if we’re not too exhausted we tiptoe upstairs and ease them into a crib / bouncy seat / swing and pray with our fingers and toes crossed that we will get a 2-hour break before the screaming starts again. Every night.
I said for weeks that it would get much easier once the babies put on some weight and started sleeping better and I was totally right. I just didn’t realize how much “better” would still suck the life out of me.
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