40 Minutes of Hell

Almost a month ago now my best friend came to visit. I decided to treat myself to a few hours of child-free time when she needed to be taken to the airport. We left the house at 7am so that we could stop at the local coffee shop and grab a coffee and then be on our way with enough time for her to catch her flight on time. The big city airport is an hour and a half in absolutely no traffic, which I couldn't expect to happen.

I had a great time driving and hanging out in the airport lineups with her. I sent her off into security and headed off to the Swedish furniture store. I was quite excited. We were in the market for some new bookshelves and a few other small things. I used to live a 20 minute drive from one of these big blue buildings and I've missed it.

I arrived a few minutes before it opened and decided to grab myself a 99 cent breakfast. It wasn't great but the sun was shining in the enormous windows and I could take as long as I wanted. Well, not really because I was hoping I'd only take 30 minutes in the store. That didn't happen. An hour later I was on my way, stopping at St. Arbuck's for a decaf Americano and then I was on my way home.

It was a nice drive. I wasn't too worried. I bathed in the quiet time for myself because it hadn't happened in .... well, I had no idea.

When I got home, Little Man was sleeping and Sweet One was on her way to sleep. I crawled in and gave her a snuggle. Little Man woke up and refused to go to sleep without me holding him.

This would continue every day, in varying degrees, until today. I just couldn't take it anymore and so, just like when he was 5 months old, I decided it was time for him to get himself to sleep.

I hate coming to this decision every time but I know that it will only be a few shitty days and a good result. After all, I've had little issues with Little Man's sleeping in over six months. I read to him and snuggled him for almost 15 minutes and put a very calm baby into his crib. I went into Sweet One's room to read her books, hoping that by the time I was done the books Little Man would be sleeping. Twenty minutes later this was not the case. I said prayers and snuggled with Sweet One for 8 or so more minutes and he was still not sleeping. While I hate the idea of making him 'cry it out', I hate thinking of him being by himself even more and so I stay close to him. Maybe it's self-flagellation, penance or loving support, I'm not sure. I went into the bathroom and scrubbed the tub. (I really hate scrubbing the tub. Why do I need to clean it? The shower cleans me!*) Twelve minutes later he gave two hardcore screams which I translated as, "You bitch! Why the fukk are you doing this to me?" and he's been quiet now for about 40 minutes.

I went downstairs, washed my kitchen and laundry room floors and now I'm finishing a very strong gin and tonic.

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We are making small strides with Sweet One and the biting recurrence. And I've managed to get some sleep in the past two nights so I feel a little better.

*Do you like New Girl? I love it. And this is borrowed, with a slight change, on a very funny moment that had me rolling on the floor.