Yes, yes, I know, it's been over a week since I've updated the blog. It's been a long week or so, one in which I can't really recall what happened between the blur of wet Elmo undies (which Danny sometimes throws in the trash ... why??) and the sleepless nights with a teething baby (at least that's what we're blaming her night wakings on this week).
I'm beginning to think that the baby who sleeps through night is much like Big Foot or the Loch Ness monster - lots of people talk about it, but there's no credible evidence that such a baby really exists. Fiona stopped sleeping her normal six to eight hours when she was 4.5 months old. Since then, I've tried everything I can to get her to sleep through - feeding more solids, earlier bedtimes, later bedtimes, soothing lavender baths, lavender sprays on her blanket and stuffed pig, letting her cry for a few minutes to see if she goes back to sleep and I've even given her Benadryl (don't judge me or I'll hunt you down and make you spend a night with her). Nothing works. Her nighttime sleep schedule is consistently in stretches of 2 hours, 4 to 5 hours and 3 hours. Some nights she wakes more often. It sucks, it really does. I keep trying to remember what Danny did. It didn't seem this bad with him because I would come home from work around midnight or 1 a.m., feed him and he'd be asleep until 6 a.m. at the latest and then again until 8 a.m. This time, I'm up until 11 p.m. to feed her before I go to bed and just pray like hell she doesn't wake up again until 4 a.m.
Potty training is going well, despite the every-other-day accidents. At this point, I'm just grateful he's not pooping in his underwear and that he's used the potty at church and in other public places. It may be time to pull out rewards for staying dry all day long. Have I mentioned that I really hate using rewards? I never know when to pull the reward out of the mix and just expect the behavior we're shooting for.
Danny has been rather funny lately when he's not peeing his pants and trying to hit me for suggesting that he try to go potty. Just this evening Jim shared this story: Last night, another car cut across the parking lot, encroaching on Jim as he was pulling into a parking space. The other driver saw him, stopped and let Jim proceed. All the while Danny was observing. Jim and Danny went into the store, talking on the way about how our van used to belong to Aunt Jackie and Uncle Tim.
When they returned to the van, the man who nearly cut them off in the parking lot was returning to his vehicle. Danny saw him and said (out loud) "Aunt Jackie's van. Honk horn. Son of a Bitch."
This is stunning for a few reasons. He put a conversation with Jim about the van once belonging to Aunt Jackie together with an event he observed - the other car in the parking lot encroaching on our van - and concluded that the response should have been a horn honking and a curse word (which I'm pretty sure my saintly husband did not do). Yes, I know that I should not be proud when I tell this story. Content aside, the thinking skills he's displaying these days amaze me.
Now if he could just transfer those skills to potty training, I'd be even more impressed.