Until last week Joseph was waking up every two hours (EVERY TWO HOURS) to comfort nurse. My husband was ready to leave us and start working on a deep sea trawler in order to get some rest, so instead of that we agreed to start night weaning. And, after three nights and far less crying than I had anticipated, the kid now sleeps until about 6 am. Which means I now sleep until about 6 am. And when I wake up, it is not to the dulcet tones of my husband cursing us all.
It turns out that eight hours of sleep makes you smart and beautiful. I wake up cheerful (instead of ready to punch somebody in the face) and I don't have frightening circles under my eyes. Even better, that fog of forgetfulness and mild dim-wittedness seems to have partially lifted (like, this morning it did not take all my mental powers to drive to Target). I had thought it was motherhood that had made me old and stupid but maybe it was the crappy sleep situation.
I feel less guilty about this than I thought I would, mainly because Joseph also seems happier with a full night's sleep (but also because I now have fewer wrinkles). I do not care that I have lost some natural parenting street cred. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, the baby cried a bit for three nights. I know for sure I've done worse to him. Seriously.
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