Shulamis's's night wakenings have suddenly gotten much, much worse. I mean, since we were in America they're much worse than they were before the trip, when she was giving me the occasional 8 hour stretch and almost always giving me 5, 6, 7 hour stretches (before waking to eat and immediately going back to bed).
Okay, jet lag. Okay, new babysitter. Okay, starting solids. Um - running out of excuses.
So Sunday I started logging her wakenings, and in honor of my lovely new spreadsheet she has been doing LOUSY. Like Sarah Rochel circa 3 months old, like night before last she woke up 4 times (!) between 9 PM (when she fell asleep an hour after getting in her crib) and 8 AM. Not cool. And now it's 12:51 AM, and she I think just fell asleep after waking up at 11:15 PM, when I did NOT nurse her because she had been awake and nursed at 10 PM (!) after going to sleep at 8 PM!! (No, she has not been crying this whole time, just awake in her crib.)
So - we begin the Sleep Lady Shuffle, and I stand next to the bed and shush and shush and shush so much that my mouth is dry. It actually does work - she isn't crying like she's hysterical, she's crying calmly (if there's such a thing) that frankly, she's not getting picked up and she is not impressed. And eventually (within 10 minutes) she IS quiet, if not actually asleep.
And, um, honestly - it's a little boring. I mean, it's dark, if I pat her or sing it's more disruptive so I'm just shushing, I'm avoiding too much eye-contact, I'm not even rocking from side to side or nothing. And it's not exactly exciting, you know?
But the mental image I have is this: You know when you're nauseous, and you're a kid and you need your mommy, and you go and sit on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet waiting to see if your yukky feeling is actually going to manifest itself into a special effect, and your mother just sits there next to you? The cadence of the way your mother rubs your back while you're just waiting, waiting, that's the cadence that is propelling my shush-shush-shush.
At that moment (or for that hour), the thing my child needs from me the most is a presence.
It's the same bathroom floor I've spent a lot of time on literally lately as I wait for Sarah Rochel's "pee to come out" ("My tushy's not open, Mommy!"), except of course when she barks, "Go out!" when she wants some privacy.
A hearty salute to we, the mothers of the bathroom floor. And now it's 1 AM, and I'm going to sleep.