I used to appreciate Tim being on nights, when Kate was really little. I was tired all the time anyway, and when he was on nights that meant he could help out with her in the mornings before he left for work at noon.
Then we hit the latest round of nights at the end of October. At that time I was about 7 months pregnant and nights were no longer fun. Nights meant that I was the dinner-server and bath-giver. Dinner, fine. Bath, not so much. It's hard to lean over a tub with a toddler when your belly is huge. Now I'm 8 months pregnant and the squadron is still on nights. What the hell? Yes, that is 6 weeks of nights. A little excessive, if you ask a pregnant girl.
But last night was tough for Kate, and having Tim on nights was a blessing. Finally. Kate is sick with a cold, and she woke up every few hours until about 1am, I think. Since Tim was going to be sleeping in this morning, he took over helping her get back to sleep and I got to stay in bed. Heaven. With a little bit of guilt, but mostly just heaven. After all, it's after 9am and he's still sleeping. Bye-bye guilt. Thank you night week/month/season.
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