Whether we are talking about the weather here in Denver lately or my boys' sleep patterns, it seems like it's all about teasers. And no matter which way I look at it, one fact still remains.
I don't like to be teased.
It seems like every time we have a beautiful spring-like day full of sunshine and warm breezes it is followed up by some of the nastiest, wettest wintery slop I have ever seen. "What a wonderful surprise of a day!" I've heard some folks exclaim when thinking back to the sandals they were wearing just days before. Maybe I'm more of a half-empty kind of person than I thought I was, but it doesn't seem nice at all to me.
It's just downright mean.
I get to thinking about clothes I haven't worn in several months, getting my toes done -- perhaps even barbecues or swimming pools. And then comes the bitter cold and snow. Ick. I think I would rather have just straight winter weather. None of these previews, these teaser kind of days that get my hopes up and then slam them back down again.
I tried to tell that to the boys, too. But they don't seem to want to listen to reason.
Two weeks ago, they slept for a six-hour stretch. They did the same thing the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that, and so on until nearly a week had gone by.
But they were only teasing.
Suddenly one day at 3 a.m. they both awoke screaming in absolute starvation and sucked down an entire bottle. They've been doing the same ever since.
You know, I was perfectly content with our every-three-hour routine until it changed. Now I seem to have no patience for the return of the middle-of-the-night bottle. I find myself growling at two sweet and hungry little babies about why they just can't sleep like they were doing and wondering why they feel the need to torture me so.
As if they can think rationally.