Last night was one of the worst night we have had in a long time. Of course it was. The timing fits perfectly to have a night like that. The night before last night, hubs and I decided that we are going to cancel his appointment for his vasectomy. Don’t get too excited. We haven’t decided that we are going to have another baby, we just decided that we don’t know if we want another just yet. So of course, opening the door to a fourth child, we would have an absolutely horrid night. (Don’t worry, I have a coffee here with me and I am gleefully drinking it while I write.)
So last night at 7pm both of the boys were sleeping. And Zoey started crying. She cried until 8pm. At 8 she fell asleep. At 815 she started crying again. On and off until midnight. Gas is a wonderfully amazing thing. We tried everything with her, gripe water, burping, changing, feeding, changing positions etc etc etc. Around 1145 the boys woke up. Of course. Zoey wasn’t crying anymore and she was finally falling asleep.
Since neither of the boys wanted to lie down in their beds, I brought them to my bed to cuddle (and destress) So while the three of us were lying in the bed (Daddy was still rocking Zoey) Alex suddenly sits up and says ‘Mom, dance party?’ The conversation went something like this:
A: Dance party mom (starts wiggling around) C’mon Nick, dance!
m: um, no guys. We aren’t dancing. It’s bedtime.
A: oh. No bedtime. Dance party. (both the boys are still wiggling around dancing)
m: (lying them down again) no guys. It’s bedtime, if you can’t lie nice in momma’s bed you are going to go back to your own beds.
A: thanks Mom (which is his way of ignoring what I am saying to do what he wants anyways, saying your welcome to random thank you’s never ever ever ends well with this child…. but I was tired)
m: You’re welcome?
A: Dance party! Oh great!
m: No. Alex. No. We are not having a dance party. Both of you lie down. Nick stop dancing. It’s midnight. Go to sleep.
A: Alex awake.
m: No. Alex is sleeping.
A: Oh great!
It went on like that for a few more minutes until I finally put the boys back in their own beds and Zoey fell asleep so we could go to sleep too. It was a long long night that ended way too soon. The last thing my oh so romantic husband said to me before I fell asleep? ‘So how about that vasectomy?’ How about it indeed.
Love, hugs and more to come later