I so wish I had a picture to share with you of what happened last night. It's bone-chilling. My words will have to paint it for you. My hubs has been working overnight shifts the past 7 weeks or so so he could be home to get the iToddler out of bed in the morning and put her to bed at night, because I had been on rest for placenta previa (now resolved, and a post will be coming about that soon). It's been great...until about a week ago.
What happened a week ago? I have no idea. But about a week ago, the iToddler started waking up in the middle of the night, but ONLY on nights when Sean was working. Never when he was home. Only when he was gone.
It's like a creepy sixth sense.
Last night was Sean's first night back to work after the weekend, so of course little miss woke up at 12:30, about an hour after I had managed to fall asleep. I went into her room to get her and she spent the next 90 minutes in my bed, flipping and flopping restlessly. I got kicked in the mouth, head-butted on the nose, fingers up my nose, laid upon (over top my HEAD), and while she was on my head,
she. pooped. on. me.
or maybe it was the wettest fart ever. I don't care, because I earned my Mom-of-the-Year plaque last night. And frankly, it smelled like poop.
After 90 minutes or so, I tried to take her back to her crib and that went over like an over-privileged teen not getting the right color BMW for their birthday. SO I grabbed my blanket and a couple pillows and laid down on her floor.
"See, Mom's right here. You're fine, baby. Now lay down and go to sleep."
I watched her silhouette in the dark and it wasn't budging. She just stood there, staring at me. I saw her shoulders rise and fall a couple times in deep breaths of resignation. Not a sound. But also not a movement toward the prostrate position.
And breathing deeply.
Like a creepy stalker ex, the night before the PFA gets issued.
This went on for a full 30 minutes and I think I was actually dozing off despite her creepiness, when THUNK! She throws a Cabbage Patch Doll and smacks me in the face with it.
THUNK! Again. Her Nighty Night Elmo book.
I stood up and she started to cry, but I steeled my heart of stone and went back to bed without her. But dag is my kid tenacious. She screamed bloody murder for about 10 minutes when I decided, personal privacy be damned, I am taking the path of least resistance tonight.
And she came back to bed with me. I hid under the covers playing Words With Friends and consuming all of the internet as she stared at me some more, patting my back and twirling my hair.
For another hour.
Eventually the patting stopped. She kicked me in the nose and farted on me one final time and then stillness. 4 a.m. Praise God.
I don't know why two year-olds wake up and have the inability to go back to sleep. iToddler has always been an amazing sleeper, but this little spell has been quite a challenge. But no matter what happens or why, I sure do love waking up to her tuckered out little body curled up next to me, her pouty lips all puckered up, begging for smooches. I know these days (and sleepless nights) will be gone all too soon, so even though she's a little creepy sometimes, I think I'll keep her.