Karma is a *B*

...and just so you know, Karma doesn't come in the form of the b!tch that many of you thought I meant with my title. Ha! No, Karma comes back to me in the form of my 5-month-old son. It just seems strange that anything I've said about him on this blog that may even resemble some form of bragging comes back to prove me wrong within the following week. Or weeks.

Sigh.

For example, when I said in another post that I had inadvertantly distanced myself from the mommy group I was attending by saying what surprised me most about motherhood was how well my baby was sleeping (HEY! Don't judge! They caught me off-guard!!), that very night, Bradley woke up at 5 and was hungry. For the first time in over a month. Yeah, Karma that night was my B.

Most recently, I wrote a blog about Bradley's naps and how he basically goes down without a peep most times. His morning naps have always been something I count on. Mommy time. When Bradley decides he doesn't want to sleep in the morning, my poor hubby comes home to a very grouchy mommy by the end of the workday. If two days go by and B doesn't get his morning naps, mommy is a sad cross between a neanderthal and someone who should be committed to the nearest nuthouse.

People, we are going on Day 6.

I. Am. Going. CrAzY! What has happened to my little, sleep-loving son??! It seems he has decided at the ripe old age of 5 months that naps "aren't his thing" and since he can't run amuck like the 2-year-old I spoke of in my last post, he squirms and writhes and flips all over his crib like a little fish, wrapping himself in his blanket like a little piece of sushi (but not a nice piece of sushi...one of the poorly wrapped ones at the cheap sushi places)...wailing and sucking his thumb and screaming intermittantly. It's awesome.

My little piece of poorly-wrapped sushi.
What kind of metaphor is that?! Poor kid.

Now some of you skeptics are saying to your screens, "Oh, just let him cry it out. It's a stage." No. No it's not just a stage. The action just crescendos and crescendos until it reaches a fevered pitch, and just when you think to yourself, Surely he is finished; this can't go on much longer. Who has the stamina for that? He answers you, I do! I do! I have more stamina than you have tolerance! Ha HAAAA! And I have to go in and get my son, pick him up, cuddle him, brush away his floods of tears and try over again, this time trying any new tactic I can to settle the poor kid down.

So NOW you're thinking, "Obviously he's not tired and is trying to drop a nap! Let it go, let it go." The thing is, eventually he DOES settle down, and sleeps soundly. The sleep is getting shorter (it used to be 2.5 hours) but it IS quality sleep.

And mommy needs a shower.

So we're not going to give up just yet.

And now, friends, I better go...for the baby still sleeps, and there are diapers to stuff, laundry to move, and a shower to be had.