I'm going to take a moment here to talk about something I've been fantasizing about something pretty fierce lately-- sleep. In my dream, I'm in a huge bed with the fluffiest white comforter, the softest sheets, and there are French doors leading to a beautiful balcony with sunlight peeking in. I can just lay in the bed and sleep. I can turn on my side if I want. Heck, I can even take up the whole bed. No one is trying to cuddle me or kick me or scratch my face or steal some milk. Are you excited yet? These are my fantasies.
I have somehow created two humans who (at least as babies) hate sleep. I'm not sure sure how this is possible, as I am a sleep-lover from way back. Even in college I was an 8 hour a night kinda gal. And now, sadly, I am a one to three hours at a time adding up to 8 hours of the least fulfilling sleep you've ever had in your life kinda gal. Let's take a moment of silence to mourn what I have lost.
You better have done it :)
Everleigh slept through the night for the first time around 22 months old. 22 months, people. 22. Which means if little Em follows suit (and so far, they're neck and neck), I have about 16 months left to go of feeling like a crazy person.
So if your life seems like a bummer today, remind yourself it could be worse. You could have a baby with a cold who is mad about her stuffy nose trying to suckle you all night long.
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