Fynn has been falling asleep between 10:30 and 11:15 most nights, and then sleeping for two to four hours. Lately she's drifted off progressively earlier. Last night I put her jammies on right before Mad's bedtime story. After the story, I brought Fynn here to our room where she pretty much zonked out right away. I stayed up for about an hour, mainly because I was pumped up on adrenaline in anticipation of today.
Soon after I fell asleep, Fynn woke up. She and I settled in the recliner. I promised myself I wouldn't sleep in the chair. All useless promises aside, I woke up several times with my neck cricked this way or that. I repeatedly attempted to pop Fynn off my breast and put her back to bed. I believe this resulted in a cumulative total of about 25 minutes of resting in bed.
Tom's alarm started going off in the wee hours. He's a big fan of the snooze function and can go almost completely unconscious between alarms. The last one sounded for at least a full minute before I started calling his name from across the room in the recliner. I got louder and louder, but... nothing. I searched around for something to throw at him. I decided against the water cup and instead selected a cute little denim dress my sister had just brought for the baby on Sunday. It didn't even hit him, but he jumped up all the same.
Of course he had to brush his teeth with his electronic toothbrush. It's never been so loud as when I was trying to decide how much longer before I could please put Fynn down and get some real sleep. Then he needed to shave with his electric razors. Yes, both of them. It's probably just as well that I sat there mentally pleading with him to be quiet, turn off the lights and get himself on the freaking road instead of bemoaning the fact that he'd be gone (which I'd already done, trust me).
About the time Tom was
We nursed for a while before I heard Mad stirring over the monitor. One thing I was dreading was hearing her call out for Daddy to come get her in the morning. So I put Fynn down, went in and interrupted Mad's eleventh version of the ABC's.
Fynn spent most of the morning in my Moby wrap. I took the girls for a walk because anything involving my butt on a soft surface would have made staying awake impossible. I managed to make it through the day, surprisingly only bleary-eyed in the early morning.
Mad went down for her nap a little early, but it was just as Fynn was waking up, so my hopes for sleep weren't looking good. Maybe 90 minutes after Mad was asleep, so was Fynn. You've never seen a bed cleared and occupied so quickly in your life! I think I got at least an hour of uninterrupted sleep. All at one time!
I had prepped Mad for a couple of things last night. One, Daddy was going back to work. (She did ask where he was when we came into my room and didn't look too happy at the answer, but she was fine.) And two, we were going to be starting potty training today (she and Daddy went out yesterday and bought the rest of the potty seat converters for the restrooms).
She's sat on the potty a few times at Grandma's, but has flipped out quickly each time. So I told her today we'd be practicing sitting on the potty with her clothes on. Silly girl! As soon as I had her up there, she wanted her pants off and diaper removed so she could really sit on the potty. Over the course of the day, she probably "went to the potty" four or five times. She never did anything except look really proud and adorable. She also spent a good part of the day diaper free. This evening I was surprised to see what looked like a piece of charcoal on the floor. Just as I realized what it was, Maisy grabbed it and ran off. Fortunately, Tom was home by then. He got all the cleanup dooty, buahaha... ahem... I was really glad he was there. Aside from that, there were no accidents, but there were also no big successes... aside from Mad's willingness to try (which was huge, of course).
All in all, not a bad day. And now my baby is asleep, so I'm going to see if I can be, too.