We put the babies to bed around 9:30 p.m. as per usual.
At 12:30 a.m. Natalina started crying. I went down to check on her. I straightened her blankets. She was still asleep. I went back upstairs and told my husband hopefully, although I already knew I was wrong, “maybe that will be it.” But it was a cry I knew. A cry that meant a long night ahead.
At 2 a.m. Natalina cried out for me. “Mama. Mama! Mommy!” I went downstairs to see her. She was still in bed, but awake. Her pillow had fallen to the floor. I picked it up and settled her back in bed comfortably.
At 2:40 a.m. I startled awake to see a little face peering at me in the dark. Natalina had crept upstairs. I gathered her in my arms and pulled her into bed with me for a few moments while I collected myself. My husband, misunderstanding my intent said, “Well, no one is going to sleep if she’s in here.” I held her for a few minutes, then hoisted her up and walked her back downstairs. “Would you like me to shut the door?” I asked. “No shut door. Open door.” “Okay,” I replied, “but if I leave the door open, you have to stay in bed, okay?” “Okay.”
At 3 a.m. I had left the room with the door cracked open, but, knowing my daughter, I stood outside the crack, out of view. At 3:02 a.m. she left her bed and attempted to go upstairs again. I intercepted her. “Stay in bed, or I’ll shut the door.” I settled her back in bed.
At some point during the night, my husband actually got up and saw to her. I don’t remember when, or what the issue was that time. I know I couldn’t drag myself out of bed that time (something that has almost never happened before) so I’m happy he was able to do it.
At 4 a.m. I was awakened by the stomp of little feet up the stairs. I met Natalina halfway up and carried her back down to bed. “Mama, lay back,” she said. I laid on the floor of their room for about 15 minutes, then got up, pressed a kiss to her forehead and told her to go to sleep. I left the door open a crack.
At 4:17 a.m. I was standing outside the cracked door out of view.
At 4:19 a.m. I was putting her back in bed again. I shut the door. “No! No! Open door! Open door! Mama! Mama! Open door! No closed door!” I opened the door, resettled her and told her that if she wanted the door open, she had to stay in bed.
At 5:15 a.m. I was startled awake by a baby crying. It was Dulce. I settled her down and went back upstairs.
At 6:15 a.m. Natalina was headed back up the stairs. I brought her back down, and her noise awakened Dulce, who was wet through. I changed Dulce, and the sheets on her bed. I changed Natalina, whose diaper was also wet. I told them sternly I would be closing the door, and they had better go to sleep. I left to mild protests.
At 6:50 a.m. I heard the sounds of babies talking. I ignored it for about a half hour, until Dulce raised her voice to a wail, I assume when she realized the door was shut.
At 7:20 a.m. I went downstairs and got the babies ready for the day.
I’m exhausted. They’re fresh as daisies. How does this happen?
And now I’m expected to function. It’s a good thing I love them so much, I’ll tell you what.
Don’t forget to submit your pictures!
And if you like this blog, please vote for it at Tales of an Unlikely Mother on Babble.com. We’re number 15, just scroll down and click on the thumbs up! It’s quick and easy to do!