Wee-weekend

There are many wonderful things about elimination training. Getting up at 3:30 to put a baby on the toilet is not one of them. S (16 weeks old) has become quite attuned to when she needs to pee, and won't sleep through it. Which, in it's own way, is good. At the moment, I don't forsee bedwetting problems as she is already waking up in time to go to the bathroom. And, in more self-indulgent moments, I feel a certain amount of pride in being able to read my baby's cues. (Of course, it's not so hard to figure out when she wakes up, fusses, but refuses to nurse). But, at this moment, as the sky is turning a less-dark shade of purple in the wee hours of the morning, I would prefer to be sleeping and must admit there is a part of me who wishes we never started down this path of ET.

The nice thing about weekends is that if I fall down asleep at 1:30 in the afternoon, I won't get fired.

In other neo-crespuscular news from an attachment parenter, my older daughters N (5) and S (2) have recently moved out of my bed and into a Rube Goldbergesque Princess bed arrangement, complete with slide and cupula. I do relish in the extra room afforded me now as I attempt to sleep, but I miss many things. Although I think I'm getting a more rested sleep (primarily because I'm not sharing the bed with two girls who exercise in their sleep anymore), I know I'm getting less of it as I find a need to get up and check on them on occassion. Every little noise they make in the other room wakes me up as I maintain some sort of sub-conscious alertness to possible problems from nightmares to falling out of bed to abduction. Similarly, too little noise causes me to jolt awake and dash into their room to make sure they are still breathing, or still there.

When we shared a bed, I was constantly reassured by their sniffs, grunts, sighs, and snores. If I felt the need, I could reach over and feel their breath or the slight rise and fall of their chest. I could smell them and gaze at them, instilling a sense of awe and gratefulness at how lucky I am to have such amazing children. As a working mom, sleeptime was the most time I got to spend with them - so important to me. What I really miss is hearing them dream. Little snippets of, "My ball!" or, "That's purple" gave me some sort of window into their dreams, and I felt privileged to be even a remote witness. Now, I have only one baby in my bed, and her dreams are quiet. But she does smell wonderful! Especially since her diapers are so clean!