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Last night was the first time since Sadie came home that I had bedtime all by myself. Tuesdays are just going to be awful days as long as Jon keeps that teaching job. And since I don't have an income...
At least he was home all afternoon. Next week I won't even have that.
My plan was good in theory. I nursed Sadie all afternoon and evening, hoping I'd be able to lay her in her crib for an hour or so while I got Danny a bath and into his pajamas. Unfortunately, every time she nursed, she filled a diaper. And she's got the most horrible looking diaper rash right now, so every time I'd try to clean her up she'd work herself into a complete frenzy, which only calmed down when she latched on again.
Hello, human pacifier. :P
I finally got her down and reasonably quiet. I didn't even make the bath optional. I just went into the bathroom and filled up the tub with bubblebath, hoping Danny would decide to be cooperative. Sometimes he does. And I was so hopeful when he walked into the bathroom holding his little toy boat -- but then he refused to let me take his shoes off. And he was so filthy from playing outside all day. And I could hear Sadie starting to fuss in the other room.
I tried to be patient. I tried every way I could think of to make this bath seem like the most fun thing he would be doing all night. But in the end I just grabbed a wet washcloth and scrubbed his filthy knees and elbows while he screamed and threw himself on the bathroom floor. And I tried not to cry while his tantrum continued for another ten minutes that seemed like an eternity until we finally got a video started to his satisfaction. Thank God for Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day.
After he calmed down, he let me put his jammies on, although he continued to ask to have his sneakers back on right up until the first video ended. And I ended up having to bring Sadie into the TV room with us (No, mommy. Put her in her bed.) and nursing her while we watched Beauty and the Beast. And Danny fell asleep about 1/2 hour into the movie.
So I tried putting Sadie down so I could finally get dinner. And discovered that my beautiful perfect baby, the one who'd eat and then chill out for two or three hours, suddenly couldn't bear to be parted from me. I don't know if it was the rash, or maybe a little upset tummy from nursing constantly... but I was suddenly convinced I'd "ruined" her. Of course, this morning, I feel really stupid for thinking that. But I was hungry, and tired, and it'd just been a really rough evening.
I was ready to go to bed by nine, but I needed to ask Jon to pick up some cotton squares so we could stop using baby wipes on Sadie's poor bottom, so I ended up sitting in the TV room with a glass of wine and a sandwich that I couldn't quite reach because I couldn't put Sadie down long enough, watching Frasier and Scrubs and trying not to cry, and waiting for 10:00 to come so Jon's class would be over and I could call him.
Finally, finally, Jon came home. I'd managed to eat at last -- carefully, over Sadie's head while I was nursing her. So I got into bed. And nursed Sadie /again/. And when she was done, Jon changed her diaper, and cooed and awwed over her poor red bottom, and wrapped her up in a nice clean gown and laid her down in the co-sleeper. And I didn't hear another peep from that child until 4am.
*thunk* *thunk* *thunk*
I nursed her and she fell asleep. At 7am I nursed her again, and she fell asleep. At 8:30 Danny got up so I got up and put Sadie in her crib. It's 10am. She's just now stirring.
And I meant to get the bills paid this morning. Oh well.
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