O, what wishful thinking.
Last night, Wilson didn't go down until around 10pm. He was over-tired (partially my fault for making Caleb keep him up while I watched "Greys Anatomy") and fought going to sleep so hard. When he finally went to sleep, I crept into bed. But I was. wide. awake. So I watched "Iron Chef" and played on my phone for hours. I drifted off to sleep around 1 am. Then my stomach bug decided to come back and I woke up with a stomachache at 4. I laid in agony until it started subsiding around 6, when Wilson started crying in his crib. Not his "I accidentally woke myself up and just need you to come comfort me" cry. No, this was his "OMG! MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU? IM SCARED AND FREAKING OUT AND I NEED YOU RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!!" cry. The one that takes him hours to calm down from. (PS- Do babies get nightmares or night terrors?) Grrreeeaat. I ask Caleb to go get Wilson, in hopes he will work some baby magic and get him back to sleep. Instead, Caleb brings Wilson to our bed, plops him down between us and promptly turns over and starts snoring again. Ugggghhh. Of course, Wilson doesn't want to cuddle in bed, so up we get. At 6:30. After I went to bed at 1 and have been up since 4. I do our morning routine (three freaking hours earlier than usual) and get Wilson back to sleep around 8. I try to sneak him into his crib, which Caleb did with ease two days ago. No dice. Wilson wakes up immediately. So we rock and I watch Bobby Flay make breakfast in an attempt to keep my eyes open.
And I laugh to myself. Today, I do not have the mom-thing down. Today, I feel defeated by my 8 month old. Today, I'm counting down until Caleb gets home. Today, I am not super mom.
But I think most moms ride that rollercoaster, too. Some days we have our shit together and some days we are barely staying sane. Recognizing this duality really helps me soak in and enjoy the "good" days. And remember to laugh through the "bad" ones.