On a daily basis I get asked 'how is the baby sleeping? Through the night by now, right?' And then I laugh. I laugh and I laugh and then possibly cry. Because no. No she is not. My baby is excellent at not sleeping. She is the best not sleeper in all of the land. She can out not sleep you for months. Two of them, apparently.
Two times this week she slept for 4 hours in a stretch. I am in no way kidding when I say these are two of the greatest nights of my life. However, before these nights we had some, um, rough ones. Let's see, there were the 3 days wherein I got a total of 6 hours of sleep. That's not 2 hours per night, no. That's one night of 3.5, one night of 1.5 and one night of 45 minutes. I rounded up to 6. Because I'm nice. And desperate.
It was during one of those nights that the greatest thing happened. I was blissfully asleep for a 15 minute stretch when I heard her stirring. I grabbed her and got her into nursing position when I fully opened my eyes, looked into her crib and saw her staring at me. This was confusing as what the fuck was in my arms? My cat. My cat was in my arms and SUPER confused as to why I was pointing a boob at him, somewhat aggressively. I laughed so hard that I was pretty sure the neighbors would complain. I then put down the cat and he's been slightly afraid of me since.
Parenting! It's glamorous.