Not Just a Glitch

As a result of my high school Childcare and Development class I once spent a week as the mother of an animatronic infant whose crying could be quieted only by the turning of a key in its back. I only wish it was that easy - or rather, I only wish real children only cried when they were hungry (the key was a symbolic bottle - why it went in the back rather than the mouth one can only guess). My fake baby (Cilicia Ruth was her name - it was my favorite at the time) was at first quite easy to deal with. She cried every two hours during the day and every five hours at night. I would have to sit up with her for a half hour until she cooed, her way of saying, "Get that key out of my back, you freak." After the first couple of days I was saddened to discover my poor baby must have been kicked in the head or something because her computer chip had gotten out of whack - she was now crying every five hours during the day and waking me from peaceful slumber every two hours. This could not be right. Stupid technology!

Little did I realize how true to life tiny Cilicia really was. After a night with nice breaks between feedings, allowing for a rather wonderful night's sleep, little EB continued sleeping so well through the day yesterday that I was literally waking him to eat after four or more hours. But when it was time for me to sleep, guess who suddenly decided he HAD to eat every three hours (which, yes, I understand is still a dream for some mothers, but when you're sleepwalking to your child's room in the middle of the night you couldn't care less about other mothers).

And speaking of his inconvenient schedule, guess who also decided he didn't need to cry at all today except for when Mommy was attempting to take advantage of Big Sister's naptime to snag a little shut-eye of her own. Guess, then, which two girls of the house were deprived of their proper sleep. And guess who was most annoyed about it - I'll give you a hint, it wasn't the toddler who still got to sleep 12 hours last night.

Ah, the ups and downs of mommy-hood - Cilicia tried to warn me.