Dawdlebug Diaries: Sleep Deprivation

Last night reminded me of one of the main reasons why we are sure we're done having kids: sleep deprivation. Emily, though sleeping through the night for a while now that she's 15 months old, decided to just not, last night. She woke up at 12:47am screaming like her arm had been ripped off. I hurried into her room, sure that she was freaking out because she had just thrown up (I have an irrational fear of vomit) but as soon I went in there and picked her up, she stopped crying. I checked the crib for chunks - nothing. I checked her diaper for #2 - nothing. So we rocked for a little while and I must say, I enjoyed it. I know I won't get to rock my baby much longer. So when I get to, I do enjoy it. So I put her back to bed, tucked her in, kissed her and padded back to my room. Then, about 30 minutes later, I'm awakened again by the shrill sound of my daughters screams. I'm pretty sure there is nothing wrong with her, we're just having a battle of the wills here. So I let her cry for 10 minutes, already determining that she was not going to sleep in my bed (mainly because she doesn't sleep, she thinks it's playtime when she gets in our bed). I go in, lay her down which makes her even more mad and at this point my eardrums are vibrating from her volume, I rub her back for a few minutes while she calms down and then leave again. Her screams began as soon as I headed for her door. This went on until 4am!! I lost count of how many times I went across the house to her room. Of course Tripp is at the fire station so I can't even tag team with him. So I'm praying continually that the Lord would give me patience and understanding for Emily because I feel like I'm going to lose it! Each time I went back, I'd let more time pass before I'd go back. At one point I realized that me going into her room, though it made her stop crying, upset her exponentially more every time I left. So I waited 45 minutes the last time, sure that she would go to sleep, she had to be exhausted. She'd stop crying for a minute and I'd be sure that she'd finally given up the battle, but then she'd start back in again (thankfully the boys didn't hear a thing the whole time!). I got out of bed, saying to myself that this was the last time. My patience was gone. My compassionate motherly instinct was gone. I just wanted to sleep. 3:30am, I go in her room and "shush" her. How motherly is that? But it worked. I stood at her crib for a while, she'd look to me every now and then to make sure I was still there. Then I moved to the rocking chair where she couldn't see me. She'd start to cry, I would say "stop crying" and she would stop. Then, ha-le-lu-la (to quote a sweet boy named Brenton), she was asleep. I finally crawled to my own bed at 4:06. When Tripp got home this morning and I filled him in on my night, he said, "well, go back to bed then." But I said, heck no! I'm getting out of here! I'm going to Jazzercise! I think I deserved that! Anyway, can you believe that this girl: