The week without Daddy

First of all, Michelle is so damn cute in her high chair, I might eat her during one of her meals. Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Martin for the wonderful Christmas gift!

All that hard work, exhaustion, frustration from last week's attempt at sleep training I'm afraid may now have fallen by the way-side. You see, somehow I find it very hard to stay motivated to keep that baby in her crib when Barry is out of town. At least she seems to be going down around 7:00 at night. But last night, as she woke up at 11:30, against all my better sense and knowledge of the power of consistent parenting, I brought her to bed to feed her fully intending to put her back in her crib and of course, I fell asleep. I woke up several times in a dream-like stupor to the sound of gentle coos and automatically thrust out my boob for Michelle while dozing off again. So I could be frustrated with myself, but the truth is, I feel more rested today than I have in weeks! My whole intent of training her to sleep in her crib last week for longer stretches was not only ineffective, but left me so crabby and sleep deprived that I was snapping at the smallest things making Barry and Io both very concerned. But as I write this, she is napping quite nicely in her crib. So it's not that she hates the crib at least. I just think that given the choice she would rather sleep next to a warm body. Shit. Who can blame her? I mean, most of us married people prefer sleeping next to a warm body too. But all that set aside, I truly do want to have my bed back eventually and sooner rather than later. I am hoping (there we go with the "hoping" again) that when we move and she gets her own room where she isn't smelling me in the room, things will get easier. Hoping. Hoping. Hoping.