Lullaby

Some of my posts are stories I have been saving in the months since Evelyn was born.  The story below was one I wrote weeks ago based on when she was only a few weeks old.  Since then she has definitely been sleeping longer and our nights have been much better.  The past week or so, however, she has entered what other moms have explained to me to be the 4 month sleep regression phase.  So I'm back to walking around like a zombie some days.  We're giving sleep training a try, and nothing makes me happier than hearing the sound of her sucking her thumb through the monitor because it means there's a chance she's going to put herself back to sleep.  But on nights when I give in, something like the following still tends to happen...

I can solve the world’s problems.  At 2:30 AM, when Evelyn starts to cry and needs to eat my brain is sharp.  National debt, conflict in the Middle East, you name it, I can solve it.  Being a stay at home mom at the moment is great for so many reasons, and one of them being that I seem to have more time to watch the news these days.  I know about things.  I can talk to Steve about these things because I feel like I have a slight idea about what’s going on.  And while she is latched on, guzzling to her heart’s content, I have time to ponder these things.  I’m really serious when I say I do some heavy thinking while I am feeding her in the middle of the night.

 

Here’s the problem: about 30 seconds after I have solved the world’s crises, I’m humming her a song and everything else is gone, which is how it should be.  Now to the part that I am embarrassed to admit.  I’m not humming Twinkle, Twinkle.  I’m not humming the Disney or Raffi songs we listen to all day long.  Oh no, because in the middle of the night what pops into my head is Magic Stick.  Or some other equally offensive Lil’ Kim/ Missy Elliot-esque song (Hello? Is this Lil’ Kim?  I found your number in my man’s pocket… I blame you Kate Perry!).  I try to stop, I try to think of something that is baby appropriate, I fail.  So I sing offensive rap to my daughter (remember that episode of Friends?).  I have come to deal with it.  I only wonder what my husband thinks as he hears me through the monitor?