J took off from work today, so last night he relegated me to the guest bedroom. His plan was to take care of the babe all night, and allow me to get the first full night sleep I've had... well, since Hendrik was born.
I was touched by his offer, and immediately agreed, only to have second thoughts at bedtime.
"It's fine," I told him. "I'll sleep in the room with you, and you can just take care of him when he cries."
"Absolutely not," sayeth J. "Get lost."
And then: I cried.
I don't know why I cried. I wasn't sure I could renege my motherly duties, I s'pose. I wasn't going far (just a floor above my boys). But despite my continued histrionics, J finally closed our bedroom door in my face and I crept begrudgingly to my quarters for the night, where I read and played on my brand new iPhone, and finally - at 11 - fell asleep.
I woke at five to pump. By seven my baby was wailing for his mama. Such is life.
But if you are tired of my belly-aching, saddle up for some of Hank's. This boy's got it tough some days as well.