Thursday, March 8, 2012

Slowly trying to regain consciousness

In Parent Speak, last night was "less bad" than the nights we've had over the course of the past week. What this actually means is that this is our second kid and our sleep standards are so low that anything short of "Anne set off a bomb in her crib every 20 minutes" is "decent." We had lots of trouble getting her to sleep at the beginning of the night, and she woke several times, but overall, it didn't suck as badly as it has for the past few nights.

Yesterday she had her 9 month well baby visit, which Mike took her to. When I got home from work, I read the canned sheet the office gives you at each well visit letting you know what should be going on with your baby at that age and things to look out for. Well. Tucked right into the middle of the included bullet points was this:

"Your baby may wake at night. Make sure to place a safe but loved toy in her crib."

I read that out loud. Then I looked at Mike. We both burst out laughing.

I mean, really. Between being pregnant and then having an infant, I haven't slept solidly through the night for nearly 2 years. DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT THE BABY MAY WAKE ME UP AT NIGHT?! Thank GOD they mentioned that. Otherwise, I may not have realized it.

My mother keeps telling me that NONE of us were still waking in the night at 9 months. Well, except for my younger sister, whom is never permitted to forget this travesty she committed against my parents. :) But me and my older sister? Sleeping through the night by 6 months. Or so she claims. I keep glaring at her and telling her that she's lying, but she's insistent.

At any rate, I'm hanging in there. And hanging on to hope that at one year, that magic fairy sleep dust will fall from the ceiling and Anne will suddenly start sleeping for 12 hour stretches. I'll let you know how that turns out.

But in other news, I'm continuing my lenten reading. I haven't picked up any Catholic fiction, I have to admit, and have succumbed to the siren call of Amish fiction. But I figure, it's wholesome, so it's all good. But after I finished The New Men I treated myself to an Amazon order (mostly to procure season 1 of Downton Abbey) but I added in George Weigel's most recent book, The End and the Beginning.

I have Weigel's original biography of John Paul II, and although I've read significant parts of it, I've never made it all the way through. I bought it when it first came out, and so it's this behemoth of a hardcover and it's actually physically difficult for me to read it. But every Lent I contemplate diving in and finally getting all the way through. When I saw this most recent volume, designed as a supplement to that prior work, I knew that I wanted to get it.

It's a much more manageable size. And it summarizes key events in his early life, but focuses on his fight against communism (using previously unavailable documents from Poland), the last five years of his life from the Great Jubilee until his death, and reflections on the most significant themes in his pontificate.

I started it as soon as it arrived on Monday, and so far I'm thrilled. It's quite captivating and readable and although it's still long, I know I'll be able to make it all the way through. It'll still take me well past Lent though, probably all the way to Pentecost. :) But I'm loving it.

So, onward we plow through Lent...

1 comment:

  1. My favorite well baby check line this last one was "Never leave your baby unattended except in his crib."

    What? You mean his bassinet doesn't count? What about a play pen? Aren't these all legit contraptions in which to leave your baby and run after your toddler before he falls down off some high place he's climbed up to? Sorry but if it comes down to it, his brother's brain being intact is more important than making sure he's only in a crib.

    I almost wanted to ask her that, but I figured it wasn't worth it. The practice is more traditional than I'd like. Won't even let me breastfeed him during the vaccinations, but I'll save that for a post. I'm rambling. Sorry.


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