Four month old babies don’t always sleep through the night, especially when they’re breastfed. There goes my bubble. But that’s okay. I call those middle of the night wakings my reading time. Since I’m trying so hard to get my baby back to sleep by keeping quiet and offering no interaction so he gets bored, it’s the only uninterrupted reading time I get. It’s the one time where it’s okay for me to ignore my world and focus on me.
I love to read, and it helps that I still have 70+ plus sitting on my kindle, patiently waiting for me. Of course, I have often found lately that I no longer remember why I wanted to read some of them and some aren’t even available anymore. It makes me sad to realize it’s taken me that long to get around to reading it.
Reading gets me away from the long days of feedings, diaper changes, forced wakefulness on my part to keep the baby entertained, doing everything under the sun to calm him down, and the infrequent naps I actually get in. At night, I can slip into another world, get away from the exhausting routine of my days and forget it’s 2am and I’m awake. I love my son with all my heart, but it is tiring to take care of him all day and all night. I need those books to give me some freedom, some reprieve. And they don’t stare at me when the baby cries and keeps crying. They give me a gentle nod and smile and invite me in, saying, “It’s okay. Come into my world for a little bit. The baby will fall asleep and then we’ll release you.”
So, no, I don’t mind waking in the middle of the night. After all, sanctioned daytime napping as an adult is awesome.