Maybe if She Actually Drank the Beer it Would Help


Had some trouble with the Blogger site yesterday and couldn't post. But it was another Jenny-less day, so Daddy had to be creative in what he was going to do with all Brigid, all the time. He decided to make beer.

Now, unlike making, say, bread, which smells wonderful as it bakes, brewing beer, well, it just stinks. It's been known to throw our first-born into a full-blown migraine. What it seemed to do to Baby B was put her to sleep, so at least Jack was able to do his work without hopping up his youngest daughter too much. However, and I don't know if there is any connection, Brigid then refused to sleep at all the rest of the day. She was tired. She was wobbly. She even fell asleep while nursing. But she refused to nap at all in the conventional sense. I tried several times after getting home from work to get her to sleep, but she seemed content to doze on boob and spring wide away when off. Forget trying to put her down in the crib. She's awake and having none of it. She did fall asleep briefly in the carrier after I dropped the girls off at dance and ran up to get a few groceries, but not until she cried and carried on at the store. I had to carry her, push the cart and power shop at the same time. When I had to put her down in the carrier in order to take the stuff out of the cart to be run up, she threw a fit. I got her in the car and returned to pick up the girls just as she dropped off, which means she slept about 10 minutes because I had to take the car seat out, carry it down to the dance studio, get the girls amid the screaming, very-loud-mouthed classmates, and return to the car. Oh, it was raining and very, very windy, too, so that contributed to Baby B's comfort. No, she woke soon after getting home. I put her in her PJs and she proceeded to nurse exclusively until Jack got home from work. She sat for a while but wasn't herself. She was whinny and grumpy, but when we went to bed, she was raring to play and spent 10 minutes happily tugging at Daddy's goatee and pulling his moustache hair. If you think that feels good, let me clue you in: It doesn't. Brigid, however, was enthralled. She did manage to sleep better last night, albeit between us. But she was up earlier than normal again this morning. She will usually sleep until 8:45 or 9 a.m. but the last couple of mornings she was awake about 8 or so and that throws off her nap schedule and everything else about her day.

Meanwhile, the other girls were having an off day yesterday, too, because for some reason, they woke up at 1 a.m. and thought it was time to get up. Both of them got dresed and came down to a pitch-dark living room, worried that the alarm didn't go off in their parents' room. Well, it didn't. It was 1 a.m. They realized their faux pas and returned to bed. Patricia, when asked later about the mistake, didn't think it was funny, although she did then say if you think of it later it could be construed as being funny. We have no idea why they thought it was time to get up at 1 a.m. We may never know.