Sleeper

Colin has grown up into a champion sleeper. I remember the days not too long ago when he would wake up a zillion times a night, when - gasp! - he still slept in our room with us. Well, I kinda remember those days. They are a little fuzzy, to be honest, what with the sleep deprivation and all. Now that we're all sleeping well, things are bright and beautiful again.

In fact, it is almost embarrassing how well Colin sleeps. The babysitter sings his praises every afternoon.

"I've just never had such a good sleeper! And he's so good-natured, too. He just sits and laughs at the other kids and plays with his rattle. He is the easiest baby I've ever had."

I smile. Yep. I produced an angel baby.

Last weekend, we went to a three year old's birthday party. As you would expect, there were fifteen other three-ish year olds there with assorted parents and siblings. We all talked about our kids, like you do, and at one point, someone asked me if Colin was sleeping through the night yet.

"Oh, he started sleeping through the night at 9 weeks. Now it's a struggle to keep him up until 7pm and he sleeps straight through until 8am. Then he takes a three hour nap in the morning and a two hour nap in the afternoon. He is like clockwork."

Judging by the look on her face, perhaps I should have lied. Luckily, Colin picked that moment to break out his Grin and Goo routine, which no one, especially a mom, can resist. And so I was spared the sleep-deprivation-induced wrath of a young mom.

Last Sunday, for a variety of reasons, Colin missed both his morning and afternoon naps. He got a weird car-ride nap in between his normal naptimes, but... well, it was a disaster. For days he was absolutely wrecked. Monday, the babysitter called me in the middle of the afternoon. I was interviewing for my job, so I got the message about ten minutes after she left it.

"Katie, you're going to have to come and get your baby. Call me as soon as you get this." I could hear him screaming in the background. She didn’t even call him by his name, so frazzled she was. Bad sign.

When I called back, she said that he had been screaming for two hours, that she'd never seen him like this, that she'd tried everything and didn't know what to do. I needed to come right away. Needless to say, I was concerned. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he'd been hurt when she wasn't watching. The worst thing I could imagine: what if he had morphed into a fussy baby overnight?

We got him home that night and basically put him straight to bed. He slept all night. Tuesday, we didn’t hear from the babysitter during the day and when we got there in the afternoon, she reported that his day had been better, but he was still a little fussy. My stomach tightened. I don’t have the emotional fortitude to deal with a fussy baby! Plus, I love my little angel baby! This can’t be happening! WHY ME?

I kept this to myself, as I didn’t want to come across as a raving lunatic within the first month of day care. I even kept it from Patrick, who knows full well that I am a raving lunatic but we try not to talk about it if possible. Wednesday came and I dropped Colin off in the morning.

“He slept well last night, save for a little coughing. Hopefully he’ll be good for you today.” I hoped she didn’t see the desperation in my eye or hear the panic in my voice.

“We’ll see,” she said doubtfully. I almost cried.

That afternoon, I walked up to her house and saw Colin sitting on the babysitter’s lap by the front window. He smiled his sweet smile at me, an open and toothless grin. When I walked in, he laughed and threw himself sideways in his excitement. I could tell that he’d slept well and was in a great mood. Like usual. There is a God, I have lucky stars and they are aligned, or whatever. But my angel baby is back and I’m off for a good night’s sleep.