Last Wednesday was the longest night of the year. And not because it was the solstice. Or because my mum was in town.
My mum, actually, was a godsend. She got up several times in the night to reinsert the binky or pat him back to sleep. There was a lot of wimpering. From Duncan, not my mum. I was asleep most of the time, so there was no complaining from me. Out of the 5 or 6 times he woke up, I got up twice, I think, which is all I can handle in a night and still function the next day. It’s the lack of consecutive hours of sleep that does me in.
What’s the reason behind this night waking? Was it the alignment of the earth and sky at the point that the night was at its darkest?
No. It was the emergence of teeth. Or the wish of them. Nothing’s emerged yet, several days later. But we have had a lot of fussing and crying and crankiness.
While I miss my sweet little baby boy (he’s still there in between bouts of the grumps), I feel bad that he’s in such distress over a tooth. We’ve resorted to infant ibuprofen on subsequent nights – something I feel a bit guilty about, but it helps him sleep through the night and wake up a much happier baby.
Anyway, Duncan is currently going “zero to fuss” in 2 seconds (as Kevin likes to call it) so I’d better attend.