Our cake of baby goodnessThings have not been easy around the Gludt household. Friday night, Romi forgot how to sleep. We've been working hard on putting the kidlet to bed, but having him put himself to sleep. We had been making progress until Friday, when our nearly-18-month-old boy wonder decided to outsmart us. I tried to relax him and then put him in his crib, but he would have none of it. As a result, I even pulled my back, so I handed him over to Rob and went to bed myself. At about midnight Romi implemented stage two of his plan and began crying. Rob went to check on him and I headed for some Advil for my aching back. Now, in my defense, our room is dark and our furniture is new, so it makes perfect sense why I forgot about the nightstand and quickly bent down for my water bottle with such a rapid velocity...and why it hurt so much when I smacked my forehead straight into the hard furniture (which I can now attest is absolutely solid wood and well made). Ten minutes later, Rob came in to find me perched on the edge of the bed, holding my head, not moving and trying valiantly not to barf.
Being a loving husband, he helped me take the Advil, got me ice, and listened for an hour as I gave him a blow-by-blow (no pun intended) of my head (i.e., the ice is too cold, my head is too hot...). But the fun did not stop there. Romi decided to teach us a lesson once and for all and proceeded to get up about a zillion more times that night, when at last, defeated and exhausted, Rob brought him to our bed at 4 a.m. where I tried to sleep but kept worrying that a cute little arm or leg would whack me in the forehead. It was a fun night.
Saturday my head hurt and felt tight (the swelling, or as I like to call it, my own personal Botox treatment) but we persevered and enjoyed the Sukkah and the weather, as did Romi, who ran around like a maniac with Jacob all day. In fact, he had so much fun he fell into an exhausted nap at 4:00 in the afternoon, which meant at bedtime he was far from tired. We tried milk with no luck. We gave him a bath and he just squealed with delight. In our second act of desperation that weekend, Rob put him in the truck and FORTY minutes later the little bugger finally fell asleep--at 9:20 p.m., a mere two hours after his bedtime.
In our parental ignorance, we assumed the weekend from hell was done. But then came Sunday night. Romi went to sleep well and stayed asleep well--until 2 a.m. At this time not only did he have a dirty diaper, but Rob discovered his nose bleed, which had left both his face and his sheets covered. We cleaned up the little guy and although Rob urged I leave the bed, I insisted on changing the sheets. The result of all this activity? Rob was up with Romi until 4 in the morning and I was up with my concussed head for two hours, trying not to barf from all the bending over.
Like I said, loads of fun in the Gludt household. It's a good thing he's this cute:
Being a loving husband, he helped me take the Advil, got me ice, and listened for an hour as I gave him a blow-by-blow (no pun intended) of my head (i.e., the ice is too cold, my head is too hot...). But the fun did not stop there. Romi decided to teach us a lesson once and for all and proceeded to get up about a zillion more times that night, when at last, defeated and exhausted, Rob brought him to our bed at 4 a.m. where I tried to sleep but kept worrying that a cute little arm or leg would whack me in the forehead. It was a fun night.
Saturday my head hurt and felt tight (the swelling, or as I like to call it, my own personal Botox treatment) but we persevered and enjoyed the Sukkah and the weather, as did Romi, who ran around like a maniac with Jacob all day. In fact, he had so much fun he fell into an exhausted nap at 4:00 in the afternoon, which meant at bedtime he was far from tired. We tried milk with no luck. We gave him a bath and he just squealed with delight. In our second act of desperation that weekend, Rob put him in the truck and FORTY minutes later the little bugger finally fell asleep--at 9:20 p.m., a mere two hours after his bedtime.
In our parental ignorance, we assumed the weekend from hell was done. But then came Sunday night. Romi went to sleep well and stayed asleep well--until 2 a.m. At this time not only did he have a dirty diaper, but Rob discovered his nose bleed, which had left both his face and his sheets covered. We cleaned up the little guy and although Rob urged I leave the bed, I insisted on changing the sheets. The result of all this activity? Rob was up with Romi until 4 in the morning and I was up with my concussed head for two hours, trying not to barf from all the bending over.
Like I said, loads of fun in the Gludt household. It's a good thing he's this cute:
The Manster Hamster Baby Lambster
