What feels like the longest week of my life is now almost over. It’s such a change from April and my endlessly meandering days to the regimented regularity of this past week. It’s not an entirely unwelcome change, but it is a dramatic shift, and one I still have to take a moment to catch up with.
I miss my monkey. While I am definitely enjoying the interpersonal interactions that take place all day at the restaurant, I still wish that I could see or at least know what April is up to. I wish that I could watch her with the other little people, witness first hand her playing with her new little friend, Sam. Eating, drawing, playing with Sammie, the dog, or the little three-month-old ferret, which is astonishingly adorable. I don’t need to be there interacting with her, per se, I just want to see how and what she’s doing.
I was there for just about every waking moment of April’s life up until a week ago. It is such a physical shift for both of us — a decided separation — that it’s no wonder I feel a bit odd about it. My little clinging koala is not on my hip. A child for whom “up” is the most important word, it’s no surprise that she’s all snuggles from the moment she gets home until the moment she goes to sleep. All night, sometimes. I love it, truth be told.
Her night-time routine is beginning to smooth out. She has accepted, although begrudgingly, that she doesn’t get to nurse at night any more. Tonight, after success on Tuesday, I decided that I would nurse her, say good night, and leave. She cried, not all that hard, for about three minutes. Then she went to sleep. I am so glad that I didn’t try to “sleep train” her before she was ready to go to down on her own. She knows that she’s safe, that if she really needs me, I’ll come. So, it looks like bed time is going to be a lot easier from here on in. I still end up in her bed around 3am most nights. To be honest, I want to sleep snuggled up to her for part of the night.
April playing dress-up in mama’s old things