It’s 7:15 am. It’s been a long morning.
David woke up at 2 am, I spent an hour getting him back to sleep. He got up again at 5 am, this time Matt went and tried to get him to go back to sleep. After half an hour of continuous crying, Matt came back and I went to try to convince David it wasn’t time to be awake.
By 6 am I could hear that our upstairs neighbors had given up on sleeping and started their day (sorry neighbors). I was just about out of patience with David when he suddenly got quiet and widened his eyes. He heard birds chirping outside.
“Do you hear the birds?”
“Your crying woke up the birds.”
He lifts his hands next to his face with his palms up, “Ups.” (“Ups” is how he says oops, it’s one of his newest, most favorite words.)
I chuckled. I was tired and frustrated, but I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.
I convinced him to lie down on his pillow and “listen” to the birds. When they stopped chirping, he said, “Uh, oh.” So I told him that the birds went night-night (maybe they did, right?). He rolled over and snuggled with his blanket and went to sleep. By this time, I knew that he would only sleep for half an hour or so before being ready to be up for the day, but I still felt validated as a parent that he went back to sleep in his bed, and I didn’t have to give in to the crying.
He did get up half an hour later and immediately ran to the pantry (maybe his hunger had been keeping him awake …).
We ate breakfast.
We made shadow puppets in the rising sunlight.
I started a load of laundry.
I got dough out of the freezer to make homemade hot pockets for lunch.
David carefully arranged his cars on the couch.
Now David is watching Sesame Street via Netflix, and I’m trying not to fall asleep.