Last night I was trapped in the nursery.
I went in around midnight to check on Ryan, as he had started crying. Ever since we moved house, the boys, and Ry-guy in particular, has been waking up at all hours, crying. Sometimes he wakes up at 10pm, sometimes 1:30am, sometimes 2:50am and sometimes at 5am. Last night it was midnight. This is a real shame because for the two months prior to our move, the boys had started to sleep straight through from 8pm to 5am, and I was starting to feel human again. Then we moved to our new place. It’s been so hot at night that whenever they woke up throughout the night, I would comfort them a la the milk train. Then the following week they both took turns having stuffy noses due to the air conditioning, and in pity I also fed them whenever they woke. This, I have deduced, is the reason they are awakening at all hours now. They have become once again accustomed to the all-night milk bar.
Last night, the hubby and I were rudely interrupted gettin’ our thang on (nudgenudgewinkwink) by cries from the next room. We both groaned simultaneously in mutual annoyance, and tried in vain for another 5 minutes or so to ignore it. But it was obvious from the rising pitch of our eldest that he was determined to get some mommy-time. I went in to feed him, as at this point I was too tired to try to rock him to sleep and chose the easiest route: straight for the magic ‘knock-out juice’.
Once I finished nursing Ryan I thought I might as well ghost-feed Logie just in case he gets hungry an hour or so later, which is apt to happen. Afterwards, when I stood up from my cream micro-suede glider, with matching footstool, to lay Logan down in the crib, Ryan heard the creak of the chair and started whining. I laid Logan down and picked Ryan up, trying to rock him to sleep, thinking this should be easy as he has a full belly. He eventually quieted down and sighed his content sleepy sigh, so I placed him as gently as I could in his crib.
I started to walk to the door but the floor creaked. Ryan started whining again. I froze in my steps and waited breathlessly for the cries to stop. I took another step towards the door a few minutes later when the silence returned, but yet again a creak woke him up! I waited until I hear nothing. I take another step. The crying resumes. Aggghhh! So I stop and wait for silence. This happened on and off again for a good eight or ten minutes. (And let me tell ya, when you are trying your best ninja moves and holding your breath, eight minutes seems like an eternity.)
My hand on the door handle, Ryan just about ceased crying, perhaps stopping for two minutes with only the briefest bout of wailing. It was at this point I wondered whether I should hazard an attempt at opening the door during a dispersed cry or shall I wait until he seems to have fallen asleep? I decide to wait for the sleep but Bahhhhnnn! That was the wrong answer. For as soon as I heard an unusually long pause between Ryan’s soft sighs and sad sobs, I slowly turn the handle and quickly swing open the door *squeak* just enough to sweep out, only to regret the decision when I hear Ryan crying for real.
Dang-it. Gosh dang-it! I repeat the whole procedure until finally my ninja moves win out against his exhaustion. On top of all that, when I return to bed, I had the additional pleasure of staying awake to the sounds of snoring from my husband, just dandy! and laid on my back staring into the darkness wondering when exactly it will happen that “life will get so much easier now that the twins are older”.