Everything is trucking along for us. We had another fun day, though it was a little less active. I was a tad sore after all of the activity yesterday and I know that I really need to pace myself a bit more. It's easy to forget that I am not even 3 weeks out from surgery because I generally feel really good, but the reality is that I probably should slow down. I am doing everything that I was before the surgery and even more, since I was so tired in those final weeks of pregnancy.
The only small fly in the ointment is that Will has started having disrupted sleep again. We are working the kinks of out bedtime and consistently getting him down at a more reasonable hour. . . but I am now wishing we would have left well enough alone. Sure, it was hard for him to be up until 9:30 or 10:00, but he was sleeping straight through the night and not getting up until 8 or later. The past couple of nights, he has been rousing every hour to two hours. He doesn't need much from us, but he seems to at least need a reassuring pat before drifting back off. He seems frightened and talks about firecrackers and shadows, two things that he seems to be afraid of. I have a hard time making him "cry it out" when he is clearly scared.
Emma is also waking up a minimum of two times per night to eat. The combination has me feeling really tired. The fuzzy feeling that I had this morning is what I remember of the first few months of Will's life. The key difference this time is that I know one elemental truth of parenting: This, too, will pass. I will sleep again. . . in eighteen years!