So I suppose I should explain the WalMart remark from the last blog entry.
Before our trip to ATL, I came up with the "brilliant" idea of turning our evening car ride into an extended trip to Atlanta. The hubby actually agreed with me. And that's where things started to go wrong.
(Not that he's normally wrong. In fact, most of the time, he's right. Unless he's agreeing with me, it seems.)
So 9 o'clock rolls around, and we all pack up, jump in the car, and head for Atlanta. She passes out, the hubby passes out, and all is looking pretty good. We get to our friend's house, get her upstairs, into her bedding... and for a minute she wakes up, and sees she's not at home. Of course, this is one of those terrifying moments in the life of a parent with a kid that refuses to sleep. But miraculously, she dedided she was tired, and crawled into my lap. About half an hour later, I managed to get her back into the bedding, and it looked like Operation Night Train was a success.
Until she woke up an hour later... screaming at the top of her lungs.
The hubby, being the fantastic guy he is, got up and took her downstairs, trying to placate her. Two hours after that, and she was still screaming, I took over. Since there was nothing I could do either, and I knew everyone within five blocks could hear her, I did what any other insane and desperate person would do: we went to WalMart.
Now, if you're like me and most other new mothers, you've probably done a lot of reading. Of course when you get to that Sleep Chapter, they always say things like, "Routine!" and "Earlier is better!" And then they proceed to lecture about how they see mothers out with their babies at 10 and 11 o'clock at night. Well let me tell you right now: it's not their fault! I know from personal experience. And as a result, She Who Must Not Sleep and I checked out every square inch of that WalMart, and double checked prices on six kinds of cheese and baby products. And oh, yeah, she was definitely wide awake for the whole excursion.
Around 5:30, on our way back to the house, I called my mother.
"Hey Mom! What's happening?!?"
"Oh no. Let me guess... Ava?"
It took another 45 minutes of driving to get her back out. And then, guess what? She woke up at a little before 8am. Yip-freaking-ee. But I used the excuse to indulge in a little hi-test coffee with French Vanilla creamer, which was awesome. And then off we went to my grandaunts' place.
We're not exactly sure what prompted the whole night of not sleeping, but we think it was a combination of being at a new place and teething problems. In the morning, when I finally saw my friends and apologized.
"If it helps at all, I know at least two other people who were a lot more miserable than you were!"
Oh well. Another story for the baby book, I guess.