If Not for Sunday...

We arrived just in time for supper, Saturday evening, and left before lunch Monday morn.  Twenty four hours earlier than planned.  I sighted safety reasons.

The Rubies is known, to me, for her often shitty and unpredictably-predictable sleeping habits.  Most of the time, now, she sleeps through the night.  But if she does wake up, its always between 11 and 1.... or after 3..... or anywhere between the hours of 5:30-9.  For some reason, she's never up at the 2AM and 4AM time frames, which is about the only prediction I can make with sound confidence. 

What I can also confidently predict is that anytime she is not asleep in her own bed, in her own room, all by herself, she will let you know her severe displeasure.  All. Fucking. Night. Long.

She was not happy in the pack-n-play.  She was not happy in the bed, snuggled with me.  Or in the bed, on her own side.  Or in my arms sitting up, rocking.  Standing up, swaying.  She was not a happy camper, Sam-I-Am.

By 8AM, Monday morning, I called ENOUGH! and had the bedroom picked up, folded up and placed by the front door, ready to leave.  With Kyra sobbing through her tears, Lydia looking sullen and distressed, I had to tell our hosts we were leaving.  They didn't ask why.  They'd heard all the wails and frustration from both the Rubies and myself.  They understood, as I tearfully apologized while saying, "I just can't do this anymore!  She's not happy [pointing to The Rubies], I'm not happy and we're disrupting everyone else's nights."

The nights were rough.  Absolutely.  But Sunday, the one full day we were in the Arctic Tundra, it was a perfect day.  Mass in the morning.  Lunch with friends.  Home for naps... which Lydia easily took and The Rubies refused.  [Kyra spend nap time climbing the pear tree, fetching fresh fruit to share.] And, just before supper, the big girls got to ride and feed horses before taking turns mucking out stalls. The Rubies pranced around, acting like she owned the joint. 

The two awful, no good, horrible nights were worth the single, full day we got to spend with friends we so very much miss.  I'm glad we went.  But I'm also not so eager to repeat it any time in the immediate future. 

I left, reassuring George, Ruby and myself that The Rubies will get better.  One day she'll figure out we're not making her sleep atop the fires of hell.  One day we'll get to spend a decent amount of time enjoying each other's company.   

But when all I can think of, night 2 of no sleep, is to cover her mouth with my hand and force her face into my chest to muffle the screams... its time to go home.  Its time to call it a good.  Tried and failed.

Sunday.  Sunday was worth the effort.  Thank you, Sunday.

I am pleased to report, though, that last night The Rubies slept peacefully through the night.  And tonight she's on par for a repeat.  Sweet Ruby.  My homebody.