Hoisted by my own petard ... almost

I didn't know prior to googling for a picture of a petard that one is hoisted by it by having it blow up in one's face. Learn something new every day.

As I wrote about yesterday I finally was desperate enough to throw good decor aside and tack Rylee's curtains down. The results so far are mixed.

Discard as irrelevant to my blocking-the-dawn experiment her awakening at 11:15 pm and 5:45 am. Both times she went back down within five minutes. Night wakings are thankfully no longer the norm, but they aren't rare either. And after hatching the plot to make blackout curtains and because I am crafty I always tell her "It's still nighttime. Time for sleep." when I put her back into her crib.

After going back to sleep at 5:45 she woke up again at 6:15. This is when I decide to see if the curtains that are obviously worthless for getting her to sleep to a reasonable hour at a single stretch might be enough to convince her that it's the middle of the night. I tell her it's nighttime, time for sleep, put her in the crib, leave the room, hold my breath and say a little prayer. Silence. More silence. This is good.

Now last week I decided to make lemons out of my lemonade and started going to an 8:15 yoga class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I need to leave the house at 7:45 to allow 20 minutes driving time, 5 minutes wrangling into the car and 5 minutes wrangling out of the car into the childcare. If I want some zen zoning out prior to class I need to leave even earlier. This class guarantees me some yoga during the week since my plan to get up at 6 to do yoga and shower before she gets up at 7 was shot to heck by her getting up way before then.

Back to this morning. After nothing but silence comes out of the room for a good five minutes I think, Good. Now she'll sleep another hour or so and we'll still make it to yoga. There's no way she can possibly sleep late enough for me to miss my class.  Isn't that cute, what I thought there just then? How precious is an inexperienced mommy.

7:15 rolls around to still more silence. But rather than admit defeat I start packing a to-go breakfast and praying that she gets up by 7:30 so that I don't have to commit the horrible act of waking up the child who doesn't sleep. For extra insurance I make a little noise.

So does this long story have a happy ending? It does! She woke up at 7:30 and with lightening quickness I slammed her into her clothes and into the car. Made it with five minutes to spare. Rock on.