While Ivan is the sweetest little guy to ever be born and when he sleeps, his sweetness and cuddle factor grows exponentially, his sleeplessness is a form of terrorism. "Sleep terrorism," as C so delicately phrases it. To take it one step further, my Ivan is a sleep terrorist.
I feel bad complaining at all, because Ivan does, in fact, sleep. You know, sometimes. Less than a dozen times "sleeping through the night" since he's been born. But I'm okay getting up once or twice in the night to pat him, rock him, nurse him, or generally comfort him. It makes me feel needed. I even like snuggling with Ivan in our big bed for the last hour of sleep in the early mornings.
But these infrequent, occasional things aren't happening right now. Little guy has been sick ever since starting daycare at the end of March. Which has led to a handful of nights spent screaming (four ear infections), a dozen nights of fitful and sporadic sleeping with/on us, and more nights than I care to remember where anything went just so we all could get some sleep. I'll be honest that I'll indulge a sick Ivan quite a bit if he's clingy - he doesn't feel good.
For tonight, Ivan and I are spending it at AM's home and he is in his packNplay asleep (after 20+ minutes of crying) in the other room. This may be the first time he's been in a separate room from me. We'll have to see how well he sleeps in the fresh air (windows open) and without all the little creaks and people noises he usually hears from sharing a room with C and me.
C and his dear friend N (yes, of N&A+C) decided to put the old Dodge Power Wagon in the pararde in McPherson, KS, on May 10th. It was the first time C has done much with trucks since we have moved and been in such an upheaval. The boys had so much fun!
One half of a modern, revolutionary, midwestern couple with a mini-me. We live on a small patch of land in the country, complete with three dogs, assorted guns, old trucks, and some bees. We like to create or fix about anything.