I actually have "blogging" on my to-do list today, and I was going to write a post about my weekend and how wonderful it was. Because it was pretty great.
But then Michael didn't take his morning nap. He didn't take it at 10am, but he woke up late this morning, so I wasn't too worried. He didn't take it at 11am, either. Or noon. Which was when I knew today was officially going to be a mess. That morning nap only ever lasts half an hour, but it seems to be what the entire day is built upon.
And of course I finished my secret stash of chocolate off yesterday, so I had to resort to chips and salsa, which is yummy and crunchy and salty but not exactly consoling.
Sometime around 1pm he was wailing in his swing and I was curled up and wailing in bed with a pillow over my ears.
Sometime after that I managed to convince him I wasn't an awful person for putting him in his crib and he slept for twenty whole minutes.
There was a lot of desperate prayer going up during all that, but I can't say I was very open to grace, because my prayers in that sort of situation tend to follow this pattern:
"Lord, please help my baby sleep. Please give me patience and strength to deal with this situation." "Lord, this baby is still not asleep. Please, please, please, thanks ....? Please?" "Lord, why aren't you giving me patience????? And why won't my baby sleep?!?!?! I know you can hear me. What the heck is taking so long?! Argh!"
I am laughing as I type this, but I'm afraid to say I am not exaggerating the ridiculousness of the situation.
Now he's sleeping again on my bed and I am not trying to move him to his crib or touching him in any way, not until he wakes up.
This is bad for my sanity, yes. But what really upsets me is his exhausted face.
I will blog about the weekend later.
And now I am going to drink tea.