On Saturday night, I slept for 9 hours straight. 9 hours! On Sunday, the world was brighter. I was happy. I was patient (or much more than usual). I was productive. On Sunday night, I slept for 8.5 hours straight. Last night, I slept for 8 hours. I'm a new person.
Prior to Saturday, we went through weeks (too many to count) of night and early morning waking. At it's worst, Teagan was waking 4 times in the night and Quinn started the day at 4:30am. The "best" we experienced was 1-2 night wakings. After six-ish weeks of this, I hit a wall. I was beyond exhausted. The girls were exhausted. We were all throwing tantrums. Our fuses were short. They fought with each other. We all yelled. Last Monday, I cried. Many times. I couldn't stop it or hide it from the girls. They asked what was wrong. "I'm so tired, guys. You've been waking Mommy up too much in the night." I didn't mean to guilt trip my 3-year olds. My friend said, "Congratulations! You are now certified to be a stereotypical Jewish mother. Mazel Tov!" She's Jewish. I needed a laugh. That night they slept and didn't wake until 7:00am. Hmmm….
(This is the main reason for my radio silence on the blog. I promise that I haven't forgotten about it.)
