I was crocheting downstairs tonight, when I heard Ayden's door open.
"Mommy, I'm scared!" We've been reading the BFG at night lately; I think it is causing some issues. So after some cajoling and a rice cake and some water, Ayden settled into my bed.
A little while later, "Wahhhhh!!!!!" Some breast and a cuddle, and the youngest one was also settled into my bed. With a rather large, stuffed dog between them to hopefully keep the older one from rolling onto the younger one while sleeping.
A little while later, I heard a soft 'click' from Matthew's door. Some footsteps upstairs. Is he going to the bathroom? Does he need anything from me? Suddenly I hear on the baby monitor, 'rustle rustle, rustle rustle.' Ack! The baby is on my bed. Up the stairs I run, five at a time, into my bedroom to find that Matthew, woken up by something and in a half sleep state, has stumbled into my bedroom with his pillow in hand, looking for me and found instead a baby and a stuffed dog, and Ayden! Somewhat confused, he is standing by my side of the bed, sniffling and crying.
Said sniffling and crying wakes Riley up, whose cries and rustling wake Ayden up...
I can't sleep in the same bed as Matthew because he snores and it keeps me awake. And I can't convince Ayden to give up his fear and sleep in his own bed, I can't lift him up to his bunk bed while asleep because he is too heavy, and there is no way I'm convincing RILEY to sleep in his own bed after the first feed of the night, having never done so before in his short 9 months of life. Three boys and me in a bed? I don't care if it IS king sized, this is not happening!! I picked up Riley, took Matthew back to his room and stayed with him until he fell back asleep. By the time I got back, Ayden was back asleep again, but horizontal across my bed. Luckily Riley settled again with minimal coaxing.
Of course it goes without saying that Brent is on night shift.
But I had that thought again, 'Well that was kind of easy!' Not too shabby.
Riley is pure sweetness, cuddled up next to me, breastfeeding, holding on to my breast with two fists, and his long long loooong dark eyelashes resting on his fat cheeks. They all are sweet. Especially when they sleep.
Can I just say that this time around I am the breastfeeding champion? With Ayden I had to sit down with him in my lap, or lie down. That was my positional repertoire. This time I breastfeed in the Bjorn, the Ergo, the sling (not so discreet, my sling. Need a ring sling. Need a ring sling. No way my hubby will let me buy one MORE babywearing object), walking along, sitting, lying down, sitting up with him facing me on my lap, or, his most recent favourite position: one foot on the bed, one foot on momma's squishy tummy, bum in the air, side of the face on the bed, one hand embedded as far as it will go in breast and the other playing with his ear. This kid never stops moving. Up goes the bum, thump down it goes, one leg in the air, the other leg slamming my stomach as hard as it can, bum up again, hand kneading the breast, knead, knead, knead, bum UP, then slam into my stomach, head up, go-go-gadget nipple streeeeeeeeeeetching, then panic as it slides out of the mouth DON"T LET GO DON"T LET GO, bury the head in my breast so that both nostrils are blocked by breast, SLAM down goes the bum again. Seriously, I will be surprised if my nipples are not nine feet long by the time this kid is done with me. What a pooter. At least he is getting better at breastfeeding with minor distractions in the room. Sunday night he actually fed in a roomful of people at a church meeting. I'm not modest about feeding him; but he is supremely distracted by ANYTHING in the room. But I've persisted in offering when we are near distractions, while also knowing he won't settle and eventually heading upstairs to our bedroom where it is quiet and free of bothersome stuff. He's not quite to the point of being able to feed at the park, but in our kitchen he will feed if the older boys are not talking and I'm not clicking away at the computer. It's a start!
Beautiful mayhem. That is my motto.