Invasion of the vampire babies!
When new parents are ready to leave the hospital, they sometimes look like this:
In addition to a newborn’s aptitude for sleep for the first week or two (they don’t have much else they can do), parents are lulled into complacency by the wonderful nurses who swoop in to take care of their infant’s every need. When you get home, that job belongs to someone else.
Over the months, our daughter has regained her ability to sleep for long stretches. Sure, she’s regressed once in a while, but I’d put her up against anyone in her age class in a sleep off. Our son, who wishes to remain anonymous for this post, has not.
A typical night includes the traditional delivery-of-the-babies ceremony:
- I finally reach slow wave sleep.
- My lizard brain registers the sound of an impending threat. Is that a carnivorous dinosaur I hear?
- No, I’m pretty sure that’s a tea kettle. Who left that on at this time?
- Maybe our neighbor bought a puppy who is whimpering next door.
- Ouch! An elbow in my side notifies me that one of our children (who are we kidding: it’s our male twin) demands attention.
- Somehow the covers on my side are untucked and shackling me firmly to the bed.
- I’m free, but I’ve stubbed my toe.
- The dino-baby is now seriously angry. He always wakes up with a grudge against the world.
- Dirty diaper? Check!
- Somehow, I’m back in bed, Joy is feeding the baby, and I’m asleep.
- Oh please don’t tell me my other child is awake too.
The next morning, Joy and I are drained from caring for our children. But they are smiling and content. For better or worse, this too shall pass.