Last night around midnight, Julian woke up crying because his covers weren't on. This woke Katrina, but Dave and I were talking about Julian and I didn't get to her right away. She cried, whimpered, cried...and went back to sleep!. Holy Cow!
She woke up later for real around 4am, nursed like her life depended on it, and went right back to sleep!!!!
But it doesn't end there. This morning, she woke up happy around 7am. I got up with her and the boys, and kept a close eye on her, knowing she'd need her solid reliable morning nap soon. And when she needed it, I put her down and she was calm. I made a split-second decision: NO PACIFIER.
She was fine! At first, that is....then she started to cry. I clenched my teeth, hanging on -- was she going to make it? Cry, cry, one scream....whimper, cry...then nothing. Nothing! She went to sleep!!! It took about 15 minutes, but she pulled it off: the morning nap without the pacifier. I was beside myself.
Not only that, but her next two naps were also sans pacifier. One nap took a little crying, the next, none. Both times, she was tired enough that she closed her eyes right away and grabbed the magic satin blanket.
By tonight, I was feeling quite confident about bedtime, and that panned out. Katrina went right to bed, was quiet for a while, then cried, then yakked, then whimpered, then to sleep. But I didn't even worry about it. No angst, no wringing my hands next to the monitor, no searing pangs of guilt. She wasn't even that stressed while crying.
Like with most things with babies, this certainly isn't the last chapter, but it does seem we've passed a big hurdle. yay!
After Katrina's second nap, she was in a great mood. Far, far better than yesterday -- today she had many happy moments, both on her own in a bouncer or playing on our laps.
I had a nice time sitting in the backyard this afternoon with Katrina and Gabriel, enjoying the unusually balmy weather. Naturally, my prime source of entertainment was taking pictures, though most of the time I was talking with Gabriel about babies and other random kid-things that popped into his mind.
Gabriel had a great time lying on the ground and looking at the sky with his little sister, reminding me of how much he loved doing that when he was her age.
(That's Gabriel at 4 months old in the tye-dye onesie.)
I never thought in a million years I'd ever say this, but right now, Gabriel is far and away the easiest of the three. That's largely because of his age, but 5-year-olds aren't famous for being cooperative, either. He could be quite difficult if he wanted to be, but right now he seems to enjoy being fun. And fun he is: cooperative, engaged, curious, playful -- utterly delightful.
And he absolutely adores his baby sister.
Ugh...the saga of Julian's tummy continues. Two changes of underpants today, one throwup into the toilet this afternoon. But he seemed and acted fine otherwise. Until bedtime. As soon as he went to bed, beewwww--aaahh. Major hurl. More laundry. What is with him?! He doesn't even act that sick, but clearly something is troubling him!
I spent a lot of time upstairs today, rearranging things, going through and getting rid of clothes, trying to figure out who gets what dressers and where they'll fit. Most of the work is in our bedroom, but there's also some in the kids' rooms also. I'm really surprised at myself about how much I love having a "nursery." I poo-poo'd the idea the first two times: after all, they outgrow the baby phase so fast, and I wasn't into the cuteness. This time, I feel pleased walking into a room that is so obviously a baby's room, and has all the baby things in it. Maybe that's because of the squalor we've been living in downstairs -- I LOVE having a real changing table, for instance, and separate laundry for baby's clothes. The crib I know is temporary, but nothing in that room is permanently baby. It will easily transition to toddler and little kid.
I think about my organized friend Kristi, the antithesis to the pack rat, and how she keeps nothing they don't use. I'm telling myself to be brutal, getting rid of clothes I like but never wear for whatever reason, and things that I love and wore so much that they're hard to part with, and things that I've never really liked but kept. I'm not a student anymore, I don't have to scrounge.
This experience living downstairs for a year with no closet and storing all my shirts and socks on five 11" wide shelves, not to mention going through a pregnancy with only one bagful of clothes, has taught me quite a lesson. I wear only a fraction of the clothes I have, and I need even less. Time to improve my signal-to-noise ratio. No junk allowed in my new closet.
2/17/07
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