Did you know babies tend to have a sleep regression around 18 months? See, I hadn't even heard of the concept of a sleep regression until Sophia, but apparently it's a developmental stage that causes a perfectly nice baby to turn into a crazy person with a phobia of closed eyes. I think Moxie of Ask Moxie made up sleep regressions and has somehow caused our babies to have them, because when I googled "18 month old sleep regression dear God have mercy why, why, I try to be a good person" I got the following returns: Moxie's take on the issue, and lots of other people quoting her. Specifically, the following quote: "Your kid may have a serious, mind-blowingly awful sleep regression at around 18 months. It's not your fault, and it will pass."
See how Moxie has made that happen? She really shouldn't do that, because it is mean.
Well, Sophia is not quite 18 months old, so by rights we should be sleeping peacefully (like a BABY even! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *wheeeze* HAHAHAHAHA! Maniacal HA!) for the next week and a few days, but you can imagine how happy I am to announce that in this particular arena, we have a precocious little girl. Sophia and sleep have always had a tumultuous relationship, but they have recently decided to stop seeing each other entirely. They ask that you respect their privacy during this difficult time.
Last night she went to bed with nary a peep, and Clay and I shuffled off to sleep shortly after. We were tired, and wanted to catch up on our sleep a little (LIFE, man. It just gets you DOWN sometimes). Hmm. We may have actually said that out loud, which suggests this is actually all our fault.
Nah, I'm sticking with the "Moxie did it" theory.
Anyhow, all was well until about two in the morning, when Sophia woke with an ungodly sort of shriek. It was the sort of noise I would expect her to make if angry weasels were eating her. I went and scooped her up and brought her to bed with us. She nursed for one hundred thousand years, then recited the names of all the important people in her life, sang a little song, informed me that she has a nose and I also have a nose, and it is a handy place for sticking pointy little fingers, and just generally labored to repel the forces of sleep with every ounce of cute at her disposal. When I tried to put back in her crib, she screamed in such a terrified tone that I picked her right up again. I'm not heartless, after all. Brainless by now, but not heartless.
This went on for three hours. Three. Hours. At one point, as I was staggering back to bed, I met Tre, who informed me that Carmi had thrown up right outside his bedroom. Clay went to clean that up while I took care of Princess Talks-a-Lot. By this point I was getting so sick of nursing her that I was sort of jealous of Clay, off in the basement, scrubbing dog puke out of the carpet.
As you can imagine, we're all a little tired today. There has been one very cranky female in the house, pitching world-class tantrums whenever she can't have what she wants to eat RIGHT NOW, or her shoes won't go on just right, or someone looks at her wrong or WHATEVER. Yeah. That baby has been sort of a pill, too.
But now she's asleep, and with in about seventeen seconds, Clay and I will be too. My hope is that since Sophia is clearly so advanced, she will have just worked her way RIGHT THROUGH this silly sleep regression, and it will all be a distant memory by now.
And if not? That Moxie is getting SUCH a strongly worded letter.