The Long Awake Continues

Pete "let me" go to Greta's birthday party on Saturday night. I was wary of another social situation as Halloween was such a stone cold blast for me, but I decided that it sounded like a pretty casual affair, just a "Jeans and Cute Top" party with a potluck, so I might be safe.

It turned out to be quite fun. I knew everyone there, and my best friends already have kids, a few of whom were also there, and they did not mind some baby talk. I tried to make it funny, so I could at least be entertaining.

I did not get home until 12:30, and Pete and Finn had just gone to bed. Pete was still reading, and I climbed in and debriefed him on the evening. He invited me to stay, but I figured I had better get my two hours of sleep, so I went to our room. And yup, it was two hours of sleep.

It's Tuesday morning now, and Tyrannosaurus Baby thrashed, ate, and grunted from 4:00 a.m. until we finally got up at 8:30, and I am again wondering "Why do I do it?" Why do I try to go out and do things that involve me staying up late? I don't ever make up those hours, I just go deeper into debt. When I come home, the routine stays the same. Pete keeps him until somewhere between 2 and 4, and then I get him, from which time on, he does not sleep soundly. I can do with around four to five hours of sleep a night, but that one night of two hours has just killed this week so far.

I think that babies' development is timed so that you don't just decide to give up and donate them to charity or sell them to the circus. Just when you think you can't take it anymore: you're too tired; you're sick of the barfing;don't think you can stand to carry them around anymore; they start to smile, and you melt into a pile of goo.

He's going to have to come up with something really good this time...

Oh look! He's reaching for his toys!

aaaawwwwww...

And here's a video from last night's sing along, to lighten the mood: