No Sleep But at Least We'll Have Cookies to Eat

Today we baked cookies. I did my best to remove all children under five: Margaret was sent on an errand with Daddy, Joseph was put down for nap, and Thomas also went to sleep briefly, but then woke up repeatedly till I gave up and put him on my back.

"I shan't let her bake cookies, never!"

Speaking of, I am experiencing all-too familiar deja vu. This has happened with each baby I have, and by this I mean that the sleep starts to get great before it deteriorates to lack of predictability for the next two years. Right around three months, the baby's naps consolidate so beautifully into four (then three) predictable naps that last a very nice one to two hours, with a regular bedtime and waking. I start to get the household in order because I am confident that I can do my cooking, schooling, and chores as soon as I put the baby down for nap, or do my errands or walks outdoors as soon as the baby wakes up. I am in bliss for a couple of weeks or a month, thinking that finally, after this many babies, I know how to get a baby on a nice sleeping routine.

And I didn't even have to make the baby cry it out!

Then the baby hits right around four to five months old and stops sleeping well. The baby gets nursed down, wakes up ten minutes later, repeat, repeat, repeat. The baby no longer sleeps consistently unless I nap with him, wear him, or go to bed with him early in the evening. I find myself muttering bitter comments instead of just cheerfully accepting the little monkey along for the ride.

So, here we are again, Baby #5. Welcome to the next two years, Mama.

Anyway, thanks to four boxes of Betty Crocker, I have cookies for our celebration of the feast of St. Nicholas tomorrow, the St. Nick parish potluck tomorrow, St. Lucy's feast day, and decorating the Christmas tree (as I will freeze cookies for the latter two events). All the same cookies, no decorating involved, and probably not as delicious as if I'd just bought the cookies at the store.

But, hey, we made memories with the baby on my back.

Bonus Picture of John, my little man at 9 years old, helping the landscaping team on Saturday: