Is It Tomorrow Yet?
Today is Father’s Day. It’s the day when we traditionally celebrate the paternal parent with a round of golf, a mug of beer, a thick steak, and other things I don’t like. That makes sense since I’m not exactly a traditional father.
My three children were excited to help celebrate my day, which is impressive since they have a combined 38 months of maturity. They were so anxious to celebrate, that they woke up early to get a jump on the festivities. By “early,” I mean “12:30am.” And “3:30am.” And “again at 6am.”
They’ve been doing well sleeping through the night recently. Abbie has reliably slept through the night since she was about 9-months-old, and the twins have been mostly sleeping through the night for about a month. I can’t remember the last time I fed the twins over night. One of the twins will still wake up complaining a couple nights a week, but that’s easily remedied with a pacifier. Abbie also occasionally wakes up vocalizing at a level anywhere between mumbling and screaming, but the mumbling requires no action on my part, and the screaming is more rare than a Cub winning streak. Otherwise, I get to stay in bed for the entire night. I’ve been sleeping so well recently that I’ve almost stopped waking up between 4 and 6am unable to fall back asleep until I’ve fed something. That’s good since our chinchilla was growing huge.
When I stumbled into bed last night, I forgot to turn on the monitor. I also forgot to turn on the dryer after loading it with wet clothes before going to bed, so I apparently had a problem operating machinery last night. When I woke up to hear Tory’s muffled screaming through two closed doors, he might have just started, or he might have been going for 15 minutes. I leapt out of bed, hoping to calm him before he could wake either of his roommates.
Too late. Ian was already complaining loudly, and Abbie was also awake and grumbling at all the noise, and earning my deepest sympathies in the process. Tory seemed to be in intense pain, whether that pain was from teething, gas, or reliving the Cubs’ latest slide into last place. I reached for his pacifier, but it wasn’t next to him in the crib. I fumbled around the edges thinking he’d knocked it between the railings, but couldn’t find it there either. I moved on to Ian’s crib, but his pacifier was missing as well. Suddenly I had a lot less sympathy for Abbie since I knew she’d climbed into their cribs and swiped their pacifiers before she fell asleep.
I called Ellie to help calm them, and rushed into the kitchen to find new pacifiers. Their brand is Soothies, but all I could find were non-Soothie pacifiers. I grabbed as many different types as I could find, and hurried back into their room. Ian accepted one of the poor substitutes and eventually drifted back to sleep, but Tory wanted none of it. I feared he might need a feeding to slide back to sleep, but mama had the magic touch, rocking him back to sleep on the couch. Abbie eventually realized she was the only still complaining and also feel back to sleep.
I never did figure out why Tory woke up screaming, but at least he went back to sleep and stayed asleep. Ian was the one who woke up complaining a few hours later, and again a couple hours after that. Both times he needed a pacifier and a lot of soothing before going back to sleep. I woke up that morning tired but determined to enjoy my day. For supper, I grilled a brat, a traditional indulgence of fathers, because I am a father.
My three children were excited to help celebrate my day, which is impressive since they have a combined 38 months of maturity. They were so anxious to celebrate, that they woke up early to get a jump on the festivities. By “early,” I mean “12:30am.” And “3:30am.” And “again at 6am.”
They’ve been doing well sleeping through the night recently. Abbie has reliably slept through the night since she was about 9-months-old, and the twins have been mostly sleeping through the night for about a month. I can’t remember the last time I fed the twins over night. One of the twins will still wake up complaining a couple nights a week, but that’s easily remedied with a pacifier. Abbie also occasionally wakes up vocalizing at a level anywhere between mumbling and screaming, but the mumbling requires no action on my part, and the screaming is more rare than a Cub winning streak. Otherwise, I get to stay in bed for the entire night. I’ve been sleeping so well recently that I’ve almost stopped waking up between 4 and 6am unable to fall back asleep until I’ve fed something. That’s good since our chinchilla was growing huge.
When I stumbled into bed last night, I forgot to turn on the monitor. I also forgot to turn on the dryer after loading it with wet clothes before going to bed, so I apparently had a problem operating machinery last night. When I woke up to hear Tory’s muffled screaming through two closed doors, he might have just started, or he might have been going for 15 minutes. I leapt out of bed, hoping to calm him before he could wake either of his roommates.
Too late. Ian was already complaining loudly, and Abbie was also awake and grumbling at all the noise, and earning my deepest sympathies in the process. Tory seemed to be in intense pain, whether that pain was from teething, gas, or reliving the Cubs’ latest slide into last place. I reached for his pacifier, but it wasn’t next to him in the crib. I fumbled around the edges thinking he’d knocked it between the railings, but couldn’t find it there either. I moved on to Ian’s crib, but his pacifier was missing as well. Suddenly I had a lot less sympathy for Abbie since I knew she’d climbed into their cribs and swiped their pacifiers before she fell asleep.
I called Ellie to help calm them, and rushed into the kitchen to find new pacifiers. Their brand is Soothies, but all I could find were non-Soothie pacifiers. I grabbed as many different types as I could find, and hurried back into their room. Ian accepted one of the poor substitutes and eventually drifted back to sleep, but Tory wanted none of it. I feared he might need a feeding to slide back to sleep, but mama had the magic touch, rocking him back to sleep on the couch. Abbie eventually realized she was the only still complaining and also feel back to sleep.
I never did figure out why Tory woke up screaming, but at least he went back to sleep and stayed asleep. Ian was the one who woke up complaining a few hours later, and again a couple hours after that. Both times he needed a pacifier and a lot of soothing before going back to sleep. I woke up that morning tired but determined to enjoy my day. For supper, I grilled a brat, a traditional indulgence of fathers, because I am a father.
posted by Matt at
11:13 PM
1 Comments:
Not sure if I laughed harder at the "early morning waking" times, the chinchilla, or the fact that Abbie stole the pacifiers.
Very funny entry.
Happy Father's Day!
By
Amy, at 8:10 PM
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