Friday, July 2, 2010

Is It Wrong? Yes, but...

The first question: Is it wrong that last night my 3 year old woke me up more often than my 2 month old?


Um, yes. But what can I do about it? Ugh. Last night both boys fell asleep around 9, though we tried to put them to sleep at around 8. Graham woke up at 3 for about half an hour. But Jack had already beaten him to two wake ups--at 1:30 and again at 2:30 Jack called out, "Daddy I need you!" Though he called for Daddy (everything's Daddy this and Daddy that right now for Jack), I went sleepwalking into his room to pull the covers up and give him a nuzzle-kiss, since Ben 1) rarely wakes up when Jack calls out, and 2) can't get up fast enough for my taste even if he does wake up. I, on the other hand, wake up so quickly that my first roommate freshman year of college was convinced that I only ever pretended to sleep; she swears that my alarm never made more than two beeps before I slammed it off. For the record, the second time I went into Jack's room last night, despite his obvious sleepiness, he accusatorily asked me, "Where's Daddy?" No credit at all for dragging myself out of bed.

I've been wondering how much Jack is waking up lately and we just aren't hearing it now because we're so sleep deprived. About a month ago I groggily awoke to hear Jack calling out in the most pitiful voice ever, "Daddy I need you! Daddy I need you! Hew-wo?" The hello was particularly heart-wrenching as I pulled myself out of bed to comfort my poor little boy. But my curiosity about his undetected night wakings deepened last week, while my mom was visiting. One night she accidentally locked herself out of our house after Ben and I had gone to sleep. After using the keypad to open the garage door, she found that even the door from the garage into the house was locked. She then tried knocking, but that didn't wake us, so, cringing, she decided she had to ring the doorbell. No response. After 20 minutes, 2 doorbell rings, and four garage door opening/closings, we finally woke up to her banging on the front window! Neither of us had heard a thing before that. So my guess is that Jack is waking up quite a bit more than we realize.

At any rate, I was extremely tired this morning and woke up with a too-little-sleep migraine. I've recently discovered that migraines seem to be my body's way of reminding me that mothers of two month old babies are not supposed to stay up to have any free time at all in the evenings. Even mothers with two month olds who could very fairly be labeled good sleepers should go to sleep by at least 9 p.m., according to my aching head. It's not a terribly frequent occurrence but is one that is particularly annoying, especially since breastfeeding prevents me from taking Excedrin, which normally will cure the problem in 15 minutes flat. No, to banish my migraines now I have to resort to caffeine, one of the main ingredients in Excedrin, but one that takes longer alone to work and has the side effect of keeping both Graham and me awake all...day...long. Not fun.

So on the way to playgroup, I drove through Starbucks to pick up my first nondecaf latte in a long, long time. Yes, Stacy, they amazingly have Starbucks drive throughs here in St. Louis. Sounds a little excessive when viewed from a city where everyone can walk nearly everywhere. I myself laughed aloud when we moved here and I realized that within a mile radius of our house we have not one but two Starbucks with drive through windows. Quite as amusing as the two Starbucks within view of Farringdon tube station. But when faced with endless stretches of five-lane roads and a distinct lack of good sidewalks that prevent walking almost anywhere, one is forced to use carseats instead of strollers. And when dealing with the hassle of carseats and the ensuing hassle of walking stroller-less with an infant and a preschooler, one quickly learns that a drive through anything is a true gift that should be given preference to a walkup version.

Well, generally drive throughs are a good thing. Today they were not. Due to Disney World-like magic, the line of waiting cars appeared about half its actual length. Had I known there were actually about 8 cars in front of me, I would have hauled the boys inside, carseat hassle or no. But I didn't realize how long it was until we were already trapped into the drive through line, at which point Graham immediately began wailing inconsolably. Simultaneously, the line came to a dead stop. The car at the window must have been paying in pennies, I swear. Five minutes later we haven't moved at all and can't move because of the concrete barriers beside us and cars behind and in front of us. Jack and I have exhausted our repertoire of lullabies, and none of them have calmed Graham in the least. So I jump out of the car and try to soothe Graham while leaving him in his car seat. Two or three minutes. Still no luck. Desperate, I unbuckle the seat and carry him to the front seat, where he remains with me until my venti nonfat iced cinnamon latte is lodged in my cupholder. We exited the drive through, pulled into the parking lot and I returned a very happy baby to his carseat with no problems.

Second question: Is it wrong to drive (even for just a few feet at less than 5 miles an hour) with a baby in your lap? Yes, but I have a lot more sympathy for Brittney Spears right now.

2 comments:

stacy said...

Sitting in Starbucks (no really) reading your blog I was just reflecting how there are so many incidents of altered perception pre and post babies. I never before understood the value of dropped kerbs (or the stroller-rage possible when people or cars block them), who knew so many people carried sharp-cornered bags at toddler-height with no sense of imminent danger, and yes, maybe I do have a degree of sympathy for Ms Spears - God knows I would hate to have MY mothering under public scrutiny 24-7!

Farringdon misses you by the way ;-)

Unknown said...

Thank you for the laugh. My youngest (of 4 sons) is now almost 4 year old. I not-so-dearly remember the screams in the car and the older sons who don't want to sleep. For the record, my oldest was never a good sleeper either. Ever. But they do grow up. And God is merciful enought to allow you to forget what all those sleepless nights felt like.