In the month of December weaning Parker became a thing, and unfortunately it was partnered with a nasty stretch of molar teething. This led to nightly wake ups at a consistent three to four times a night, as opposed to a single, weekly freak occurrence.
This habit never faded as teething troubles calmed, and his poor bunk mate was in desperate need of a noisy neighbor intervention.
So last night we set up our extra twin mattress on the floor of our bedroom. Wrigley hopped into bed with me, and Dan took up residency on the floor on the twin.
It was an overall calm night of sleep training, until 5:30 this morning when a wakeup was partnered with a diaper explosion. Lovely. An hour into my, I am up at 4:30 to crack out work before the kids wake, routine.
In my attempt to keep Parker in sleep mode I gathered my tools – changing pad, new sheets, fresh diaper, clean pajamas and wipes – and tackled the situation by flashlight.
After all was clean and the flashlight was off, I sat on the floor with Parker in my lap, evolving into the human rocking chair, rocking back and forth.
I prayed to the sleep gods that my youngest would fall for the trick and go back to sleep so that I may tackle a few more to-do’s for work. And the prayer was answered. For forty blissful minutes.
5-star sleep training accommodations, the bed at the foot of the bed.
Oh the glamours. Parenthood, you so perfectly uphold my superstar status.