Maybe every other day is what I'm aiming for

Since I'd all but abandoned this spot for six months, perhaps it is too ambitious to think I'd post daily.  I do have about two hours every day where I'm pretty much tethered to one spot so it should be easy to hop over here.  Yesterday, however, I was positively dead on my feet and couldn't string together two sentences much less an entire blog post.  We survived Henry's little fever and all that involved but he's not back to his normal sleep schedule and man alive, is that kicking my butt.  Even on Tuesday night when I got a good 7 hours uninterrupted sleep, I was absolutely exhausted on Wednesday.  Today wasn't much better.

I think Henry is a pretty decent sleeper.  When he's on his game, he'll sleep about 10 hours (7p-5a) before waking to nurse and sleeping another 2 or so hours.  He's not great at napping at daycare--all the other babies distract him so if we get a couple of catnaps out of him, we're thrilled--but he's better about napping on weekends.  Looking back, Henry started sleeping 6 hour stretches when he was about 6 weeks old.  I was thrilled as only a sleep-deprived parent who just got 6 hours of sleep can be.  Sadly the poor bun was terribly congested because of all the allergens in the air last spring so while he was sleeping, we had to have him sleeping on an angle in the glider or swing.  After that one night, I was positively paranoid (and sleep deprived and still a bit hormonal) that something might happen.  After his normal 11p feeding, I sat in the floor beside the glider for pretty much the entire night just listening to him breathe, which at the time sounded pretty much what I'm sure a herd of sleeping goats sounds like all grunty and wheezy and noisy and easily heard from the bed or across the hall.  I was crying because I was so tired and hormonal yet I couldn't make myself go to bed for fear of what might happen to Henry if I did.  Thankfully he cleared up after just a couple of days and Paul realized what I'd done the next morning and stepped in so it wouldn't happen again.  And the next night, Mama and the herd of goats got another six hour night of sleep.

See, this is the kind of stuff people don't talk about when they have babies--the crazy behavior that you do that you know is crazy and yet can't stop.  Maybe this is stuff I shouldn't write down as a memory because while we're fairly certain Henry is our Enough, if I think I want a second, reading that would seriously make me reconsider.