Thursday, February 27, 2014

Cry Baby, Cry

I used to be able to sleep soundly anywhere. The car, a plane, a tiny desk in an overly crowded classroom, it didn't matter. I could sleep through it all.

Then I had a child. All of a sudden my brain was magically tuned in to a special frequency that could pick up even the slightest whimper. My eyes spring open, my ears straining, my mind aware something has occured but it is still not quite sure what it is. The second slightly louder wail quickly follows immediately clarifying the situation. My child has awakened in the night and has decided to use this new found "down time" to torture me. 

Interestingly enough, it seems I am the only person in the house who is tuned in to this particular frequency. Proof came earlier this week.

My youngest is now 7 months old, and normally he sleeps just fine at night. But, 2 nights ago darling boy decided to wake up at 2 am and start calling for company. My eyes immediately flew open. I laid there listening, hoping he would settle himself down. He didn't. I then turned to my next line of defense, my sweet husband. He was snoring. Oblivious to all. Sleeping peacefully. I thought several undeserved and mean thoughts about my poor husband then noisely went to care for the " needs" of my demanding little offspring. 

As I flopped back into bed the whimpers began again. I sighed rather loudly and glared at the figure beside me. Apparently something had awakened him during my stomping retreat and rustling return.....

I could feel it coming. The overly tired, everythings worse in the middle of the night battle of unfair accusations. If your not familiar with this battle, I will explain. It is normally one person spewing a vicious onslaught of exaggerated perceived wrong doings in a louder than necessary voice. The other person is usually staring in wide eyed confusion trying to determine if this is a dream, prank, or someone who is mentally unstable. I'm sure you can guess which role I played in this epic 2 am battle....

Almost immediately, I knew my tired rant was very wrong. It is not my husband's fault that he can't read my mind or that he didn't receive the "gift" of the crying frequency. It's a pity, but it isn't his fault. Don't feel to bad for him though. I swallowed my pride and apologized then cooked three of his favorite meals this week. Plus I made apology accepted. 

In reflection, I've made peace with my role as the hearer of all cries, also known as mother. I have agreed to not assume he knows when I need and want his help. And the dear man believes me, or at least he will till the next 2 am battle!

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