I baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies this past week. In the process of doing so, I pulled out all of the various ingredients that I would need.
Noticing that I was running low on chocolate chips, I ran to our outside refrigerator to get a new 72-oz Costco-sized bag. As I was walking back to the kitchen, I could hear one of our small children's chairs being pushed across the tile floor. I was thinking to myself that one of the children saw that I was about to begin baking and wanted to pull up a chair to help.
But then I rounded the corner and was quite surprised to see that my baby had pushed the chair up to the counter and was standing on it.
High on his tippy toes, he was peering in to the almost empty bag of chocolate chips.
This baby. This little angel in my life, woke the entire house up with his cries last night at 11:30. He was up again at 1:30 and 3:15 and when I didn't pick him up, but instead gave him a sip of water - his pacifier - and told him "HUSH! GO BACK TO SLEEP!" he woke everyone up again at 4:00 AM screaming, "Mama! MAMA!! MAMAAMAMAMA!!! APPWLES!!!"
Charlie and I were completely exhausted today. As we were exhausted yesterday. And Friday. And every day last week, last month and last year.
Just as we will be exhausted tomorrow.
Our exhaustion doesn't have to do with training for a marathon. Or raising triplets. Or even working. While laying in bed at 4:30 this morning, we were animatedly discussing how and when we will ever get this child to sleep through the night in our small and almost completely doorless house. We discussed moving Henry's crib in to William's room (with a door) and moving William in with the girls. And then, we'll just close the door and give everyone a set of earplugs.
But I spoke with my sister-in-law today who has a little boy a few weeks older than Henry. A baby that she is also still nursing, in a house that is even smaller than ours. She told me that she just moved my nephew in to her bedroom so that when he wakes, she can scoop him up before he disturbs my brother and three-year-old twin nephews.
I really cannot stand to hear my baby cry, especially since I know that I have the ability to make him perfectly content. I have exactly what it is that he wants and needs and I know that it really won't be that much longer, relatively speaking, that he will need me in the capacity that he needs me, right now.
So ... I've decided that I am either going to move him in to our room, or put a bag of chocolate chips in to his crib. Thus far, it's the only thing that quiets him down like appwles.