tried to get up with him a few times at night to give me a break but
the subsequent screaming had me rolling out of bed muttering to myself
about how inadequate fathers were and why couldn't I just get a break
already. What can I say, I'm pretty possessive of my sleep. I'm a
supreme grouch if I don't get what I have deemed as "enough."
When Mariah came along in all her willful and colicky glory I almost lost
my mind and in an effort to help me keep it Helmut started taking her
at night and soothing her back to sleep. She had a horrible habit of
waking up 20 times after she'd been put down for the night before she
would finally settle down and sleep. Often we didn't get her to settle
down until midnight. Night after night of this combined with a sleepless toddler had me shaking my fists in the air and wondering if I would ever get my precious sleep again (really, I'm ridiculous about it).
Helmut in his extremely self sacrificing way took over roughly half of the soothing back to sleep attempts, which I consider to be an admirable amount for a father, especially as he seemed to have much success. Now when he's home for the weekend and we have the option I shove Mariah into his arms at nap time and he's able to whisk her away to dreamland without a peep, which is more than I can say for myself.
I don't like to admit it to myself often, but at times I think she prefers him to me.
