Lost is giving me brain lesions. And I LIKE it.
The Child had more vaccines today. She was so happy and shrieky this morning. I swear she plans it that way so the knives of guilt in my heart will feel even duller and rustier as Those Weirdos Who Torture Babies jab her, and I just look on, doing NOTHING to protect her from these barbarians.
Things I learned at the pediatricians office today:
1) My baby is enormous.
2) Her flat head is fine.
3) My baby is enormous.
She's 16.25 pounds (89th percentile), 27" long (>97th percentile) and 17.25" around the head (96th percentile). I was wrong last time, by the way; her weight at 2 months wasn't 95th percentile, but 85th. So girl likes her snacks, apparently.
We came home, and she was again extremely cheerful for a couple hours. Then BAM the world was ENDING and can't you see my PAIN and why can't I just SLEEP on your BOOB?
(there are few things worse in this world than chapped, raisiny nipples; just trust me on this)
Then she crashed in her bouncy seat and has been asleep for an hour and a half already. Which is good. Because she didn't sleep at all this morning. And we got to hear all about it.
I made chicken tacos earlier. I made a quadruple batch. And yet I have a feeling it will not last through tomorrow even though it has to because I'm bringing it to church on Sunday. Crap. What will I eat? Maybe I will just "drop" my contribution to the potluck "on the ground" on Sunday morning. "Oops".
Which brings me to my next point. I AM STARVING ALL THE TIME. I keep saying this, but nothing helps. NOTHING. Healthy fats and lots of protein and fiber just disappear into the endless vacuum of my stomach. It's a black hole. This might explain, though, how The Child grew 2.5 pounds and three inches in just two months. Some days, when I'm really hungry, and she's not being particularly pleasant, I look at her and see a giant cooked turkey in my arms. With delicious aroma lines coming off it. Like in the cartoons.
Facebook. Ooooooh, Facebook. 25 Things about Me is getting old. OLD. REALLY OLD. I finally gave in and did it. One of you people even tagged me. Which is fine. I'm not actually mad. But now I've been tagged for two more surveys on Facebook and I refuse. REFUSE! LOOK HOW YOU'RE MAKING ME USE ALL CAPS.
My sister doesn't like them because they're narcissistic. Not that I disagree. They are narcissistic, but I keep a blog, so for me to criticize them for that is kind of PotKettleHi. They're just like those eight billion Facebook applications, though. Every time I get tagged for one, I feel guilty for not wanting to do it. Like the person who tagged me will be hurt if I don't. This is stupid because I'm pretty sure some people just tag all their Facebook friends and couldn't care less if I responded. Same goes for the applications.
But because I'm a narcissist, I just assume that most people are waiting with bated breath for my 25 Things about Me Because I'm Just That Interesting. So I did it.
And now I'm starving. Again. Even though I had four chicken tacos less than three hours ago.
HALP.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
I just realized I'm starving.
Grace laughed yesterday (and not in her sleep). This is so corny, but no other sound has ever made me so happy in my life. It was even better than the first time she really smiled at me. I whinge all the time about being a mom, but I truly love it.
She did it twice, and I haven't been able to get her to do it again. Stubborn child.
She has some mild flat-head going on the right side of her skull. I'm not sure how it happened. When she was first born, she spent a little too much time in the bouncy seat, I think. I was a little fuzzy from the c-section and painkillers and pain, and it was very hard to hold her a lot between the fatigue, baby blues and stabbing midsection pain.
Since then, though, I've been careful not to lay her down all the time. And when she does lie down, I've tried to position her in ways that will keep her from always resting on one side of her head. So. I don't know. This is a little distressing to me. It sounds stupid, but my biggest fear as a parent (for the baby phase, at least) was that I would have a flat-head baby. And it came true. Awesome!
Tummy time continues to be a major trial. Even if I just do it for five minutes before each feeding, she still manages to lose half her lunch all over the place. If she weren't growing like a weed, I'd think she wasn't digesting any food. So I lay her down, and she'll hold her head up for .006 seconds and then flop around like a fish on a pier. I KNOW she's strong enough to do better; I've seen her do it many a time. She doesn't seem real inclined to do any hard work. Hmmmm. Sound like someone else we know?
I plan to bring all this up with the pediatrician on Friday, who will hopefully not make a note in her chart about me being a horrible, bad, awful mother who should never be allowed to reproduce again. I'm pretty sure she was a little alarmed when James told her Grace was sleeping eight hours a night at two months, despite her being obviously fat and happy (Grace, not the pediatrician).
Good news: She has found the thumb. Before, she was sucking on her fingers from time to time, but not reliably enough to soothe herself. This meant a lot of carrying her around in the sling and holding the pacifier in her face, which meant doing everything one-handed. This makes housekeeping and cooking a real challenge. Anyway, as I've mentioned before, this new development can be pretty hilarious at times. She has thumbs almost as long as my pinkies, so gags herself, get scared, shoves thumb further down her throat, and gags some more. Don't worry! I rescue her. But it's still hilarious.
The bad news that goes with the good news: She drools all over her hand and then smears it on her face. So I, in turn, have to smear lanolin all over her face regularly, or her cheeks get so chapped I could sand my furniture with them. They're a nice rosy red color, though!
She's back to sleeping really well again. Finally. Two days in a row now, she's stayed asleep until 8:30. It's wonderful. I feel like I'm capable of being a wife and mom again. Sleep deprivation doesn't seem all that bad while I'm going through it, but once I'm out the other side, I look back and think, "Wow. How did I survive?"
She no longer needs the swaddle at night, either. This is wonderful. It sucks a lot to swaddle a grouchy, tired, strong and thrashing baby at the end of the day. Like if you tried to braid a hyperactive octopus's tentacles.
Child is trying to inhale her thumb again. I must go.
She did it twice, and I haven't been able to get her to do it again. Stubborn child.
She has some mild flat-head going on the right side of her skull. I'm not sure how it happened. When she was first born, she spent a little too much time in the bouncy seat, I think. I was a little fuzzy from the c-section and painkillers and pain, and it was very hard to hold her a lot between the fatigue, baby blues and stabbing midsection pain.
Since then, though, I've been careful not to lay her down all the time. And when she does lie down, I've tried to position her in ways that will keep her from always resting on one side of her head. So. I don't know. This is a little distressing to me. It sounds stupid, but my biggest fear as a parent (for the baby phase, at least) was that I would have a flat-head baby. And it came true. Awesome!
Tummy time continues to be a major trial. Even if I just do it for five minutes before each feeding, she still manages to lose half her lunch all over the place. If she weren't growing like a weed, I'd think she wasn't digesting any food. So I lay her down, and she'll hold her head up for .006 seconds and then flop around like a fish on a pier. I KNOW she's strong enough to do better; I've seen her do it many a time. She doesn't seem real inclined to do any hard work. Hmmmm. Sound like someone else we know?
I plan to bring all this up with the pediatrician on Friday, who will hopefully not make a note in her chart about me being a horrible, bad, awful mother who should never be allowed to reproduce again. I'm pretty sure she was a little alarmed when James told her Grace was sleeping eight hours a night at two months, despite her being obviously fat and happy (Grace, not the pediatrician).
Good news: She has found the thumb. Before, she was sucking on her fingers from time to time, but not reliably enough to soothe herself. This meant a lot of carrying her around in the sling and holding the pacifier in her face, which meant doing everything one-handed. This makes housekeeping and cooking a real challenge. Anyway, as I've mentioned before, this new development can be pretty hilarious at times. She has thumbs almost as long as my pinkies, so gags herself, get scared, shoves thumb further down her throat, and gags some more. Don't worry! I rescue her. But it's still hilarious.
The bad news that goes with the good news: She drools all over her hand and then smears it on her face. So I, in turn, have to smear lanolin all over her face regularly, or her cheeks get so chapped I could sand my furniture with them. They're a nice rosy red color, though!
She's back to sleeping really well again. Finally. Two days in a row now, she's stayed asleep until 8:30. It's wonderful. I feel like I'm capable of being a wife and mom again. Sleep deprivation doesn't seem all that bad while I'm going through it, but once I'm out the other side, I look back and think, "Wow. How did I survive?"
She no longer needs the swaddle at night, either. This is wonderful. It sucks a lot to swaddle a grouchy, tired, strong and thrashing baby at the end of the day. Like if you tried to braid a hyperactive octopus's tentacles.
Child is trying to inhale her thumb again. I must go.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Thank God for noses and my paranoia
Grace FINALLY made it all the way through the night without waking up. She woke up early, but not at three and five in the morning like she has been. It was AWESOME.
Then I went downstairs and caught a very faint whiff of gas. Hrm. It was extremely faint, so I chalked it up to imagination. I'm always hearing and smelling and seeing things.
Twenty minutes later, I walked down the hall and the smell almost smacked me in the face. So I grabbed the baby and booked it out of there, called the gas company.
The guy came by, checked everything out. No gas leak. BUT the CO level in our chimney was above what his meter would read (9999 ppm, which is somewhere between car exhaust and death in 1-3 minutes). None (that he could find) in the house. The smell was from some gas or other that's a byproduct of incomplete combustion. So we, at the very least, need our boiler cleaned. We have hot water heat.
The guy is here right now. Oh, YAY! With a just cleaning it will work just fine.
Anyway, the cat would have dropped dead already if it were still dangerous in here, but she still acting like Queen of Everything, so we're good. Just a little chilly.
Then I went downstairs and caught a very faint whiff of gas. Hrm. It was extremely faint, so I chalked it up to imagination. I'm always hearing and smelling and seeing things.
Twenty minutes later, I walked down the hall and the smell almost smacked me in the face. So I grabbed the baby and booked it out of there, called the gas company.
The guy came by, checked everything out. No gas leak. BUT the CO level in our chimney was above what his meter would read (9999 ppm, which is somewhere between car exhaust and death in 1-3 minutes). None (that he could find) in the house. The smell was from some gas or other that's a byproduct of incomplete combustion. So we, at the very least, need our boiler cleaned. We have hot water heat.
The guy is here right now. Oh, YAY! With a just cleaning it will work just fine.
Anyway, the cat would have dropped dead already if it were still dangerous in here, but she still acting like Queen of Everything, so we're good. Just a little chilly.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Maybe everyone will calm down soon
Does your vision ever go all bouncy on you? Like the whole room is shaking? This happens to me all the time. Please don't tell me it means I have a brain tumor. This has been happening to me for years. So if it's a brain tumor, it's the kind and gentle variety.
I am so glad the inauguration is over. The lovefest has me so nauseated I'm actually starting to lose the baby weight. I don't care if the Angel Gabriel himself just became President of the United States of America. He's going to disappoint even his most fervent worshippers. You know why? Because we're all human. Nothing makes us happy. And Obama isn't the Angel Gabriel. He's just a guy. So that means we have disappointment squared. I don't envy him.
Speaking of losing the baby weight, I don't really know how this is happening, but the extra rolls have just started melting off. This is pretty remarkable for two reasons. One, I'm still not exercising (partly because of bum knee, partly because I am Lazy). Two, I eat anything and everything that crosses my path. For instance, I made some food for Awesome Friend's shower. A whole package of cheese, half a gigantic summer sausage, half a batch of garlic dip, and a whole batch of chocolate dip went back home with me. I devoured it all in two days. Most of it in one sitting.
The Child permitted me to go outside today. She didn't even squeak. Must have been the brandy I dipped her pacifier in.
She has also learned how to roll over from back to front (well, back to side, but I haven't given her much of a chance to complete the job). This makes life more complicated for me. No more leaving her on the changing table (I know, I know!) while I find a pair of socks.
She also has hit the Woman, Don't You Ever Put Me Down phase. This sucks a lot because she weighs approximately 72 pounds. She wears the same size diapers our pastor's two-year-old wears. Yeah.
Time to go watch Supernatural. I am so glad that show is back on. Tomorrow I watch Lost. I couldn't be happier right now.
PS: For those of you interested, here are the recipes I used for the dips. They were both incredibly easy and delicious:
Roast Garlic (I used this garlic roasting method rather than the one in the dip recipe, but they're not that much different)
Garlic Dip (I don't have a food processor, so I just used a blender; it worked okay)
Chocolate Dip
I am so glad the inauguration is over. The lovefest has me so nauseated I'm actually starting to lose the baby weight. I don't care if the Angel Gabriel himself just became President of the United States of America. He's going to disappoint even his most fervent worshippers. You know why? Because we're all human. Nothing makes us happy. And Obama isn't the Angel Gabriel. He's just a guy. So that means we have disappointment squared. I don't envy him.
Speaking of losing the baby weight, I don't really know how this is happening, but the extra rolls have just started melting off. This is pretty remarkable for two reasons. One, I'm still not exercising (partly because of bum knee, partly because I am Lazy). Two, I eat anything and everything that crosses my path. For instance, I made some food for Awesome Friend's shower. A whole package of cheese, half a gigantic summer sausage, half a batch of garlic dip, and a whole batch of chocolate dip went back home with me. I devoured it all in two days. Most of it in one sitting.
The Child permitted me to go outside today. She didn't even squeak. Must have been the brandy I dipped her pacifier in.
She has also learned how to roll over from back to front (well, back to side, but I haven't given her much of a chance to complete the job). This makes life more complicated for me. No more leaving her on the changing table (I know, I know!) while I find a pair of socks.
She also has hit the Woman, Don't You Ever Put Me Down phase. This sucks a lot because she weighs approximately 72 pounds. She wears the same size diapers our pastor's two-year-old wears. Yeah.
Time to go watch Supernatural. I am so glad that show is back on. Tomorrow I watch Lost. I couldn't be happier right now.
PS: For those of you interested, here are the recipes I used for the dips. They were both incredibly easy and delicious:
Roast Garlic (I used this garlic roasting method rather than the one in the dip recipe, but they're not that much different)
Garlic Dip (I don't have a food processor, so I just used a blender; it worked okay)
Chocolate Dip
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Short Update
Thursday night was terrible, again. But better than Wednesday night. She only woke up twice (I think? I don't really remember).
Yesterday I was so thoroughly exhausted. I was so tempted to throw her in her crib with a bunch of hangy toys and let her tend to herself for the day. But I didn't. She would have gotten really hungry.
She went right to sleep for both her naps, and then last night she was out like a light the second I put her down. She only woke up once, at six. I fed her. She sounded so sad and alone, and I was tired. Still not ideal, but I'll take it.
I put her to bed about 40 minutes ago, and not a peep yet. I won't start breathing again until an hour's up, though.
I got more sleep last night, but I'm still to tired to write anything real. Just didn't want you all to think I'd died or something.
Yesterday I was so thoroughly exhausted. I was so tempted to throw her in her crib with a bunch of hangy toys and let her tend to herself for the day. But I didn't. She would have gotten really hungry.
She went right to sleep for both her naps, and then last night she was out like a light the second I put her down. She only woke up once, at six. I fed her. She sounded so sad and alone, and I was tired. Still not ideal, but I'll take it.
I put her to bed about 40 minutes ago, and not a peep yet. I won't start breathing again until an hour's up, though.
I got more sleep last night, but I'm still to tired to write anything real. Just didn't want you all to think I'd died or something.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Despair is a stubborn baby
When I was six, I thought I'd die before willingly uttering these words, but my sister was right. The third day is magic. And not just in Celtic lore. It applies to babies, too.
Today was good. Is a good thing. Am so tired.
Last night was a nightmare, both literally and figuratively. Grace woke up probably six times after screaming and screaming and screaming (I told you about that part already). She put herself back to sleep almost every time within a minute or two, but I still woke up. Two of those times I ended up just feeding her. 3:00 and 6:00. I'd forgotten what that felt like.
OH CRAP. She just woke up. She's been asleep for almost an hour, which may mean she's well-rested enough to really stay awake for a while. I guess we'll see.
I think she's back asleep now. Who knows.
Anyway, I had horrible nightmares last night. I like the occasional nightmare. They're exciting. But I had them all night last night. So, screaming baby, constant nightmares, what do I have to be upset about?
I know this will be over soon. I'm going to write a real entry when I'm not on the verge of running away with the circus again.
Today was good. Is a good thing. Am so tired.
Last night was a nightmare, both literally and figuratively. Grace woke up probably six times after screaming and screaming and screaming (I told you about that part already). She put herself back to sleep almost every time within a minute or two, but I still woke up. Two of those times I ended up just feeding her. 3:00 and 6:00. I'd forgotten what that felt like.
OH CRAP. She just woke up. She's been asleep for almost an hour, which may mean she's well-rested enough to really stay awake for a while. I guess we'll see.
I think she's back asleep now. Who knows.
Anyway, I had horrible nightmares last night. I like the occasional nightmare. They're exciting. But I had them all night last night. So, screaming baby, constant nightmares, what do I have to be upset about?
I know this will be over soon. I'm going to write a real entry when I'm not on the verge of running away with the circus again.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Too tired to make this very interesting
This Boot Camp crap has me knackered.
The cat sits next to me on the couch. She is snoring. I had no idea cats could snore. It sounds remarkably like the video of Grace snoring.
Speaking of the cat, I'm starting to feel a very faint affection for her. This is alarming.
First, the boring stuff (I'm writing about this because some of you have asked me to):
I spoke too soon yesterday. The Child woke up several times yesterday evening. I couldn't handle it and went grocery shopping. Some of you already know that I hate grocery shopping. I hate it even more at 10:00 at night. And even more when it's 37 below zero. This tells you how distressing this was for me. And she wasn't even crying that much, just waking up off and on for a couple hours.
This morning she woke up early again. At five. I went in to check on her almost right away, and I am so glad I did. Her swaddling blanket was wrapped all the way around her head. I'm not talking a corner of it. I'm talking the main part of the blanket that is supposed to wrap around her torso. I tore it off her and then ran out of the room, hoping she'd go back to sleep. She didn't, which is probably a good thing; if I hadn't had to feed her, I would have lain awake in bed, my mind turning all the what-ifs over and over and over in my head.
But all is not lost for the swaddle. I figured out how she got out. We'd had the crib propped up just a little bit from when she was first born and had a *kid. She was creeping down the bed, and her movement pulled the swaddle loose. Just to be sure, I've been checking during every nap today (one was almost two hours long!), and it's held very tight.
*OH. Oh my. I'm more tired than I realized. That's supposed to be "cold". I'm leaving that typo in, though, because it's just way too much fun.
Naptime Boot Camp: Day Two went swimmingly. Emphasis on "Day". She was a ball of brilliant sunshine almost constantly today. Night Two is another story. After I put her down tonight, all cozily swaddled and happy and sleepy, she started screaming. And I tell you what, I have never heard her scream like this.
At the twenty-minute mark (going in every ten, of course), I went into her room, and I broke. I picked her up. I had to make sure she wasn't actually hurting. I think she might have been. Even after she calmed down, she kept arching her back and straightening her legs out (my child is now taller than I am, by the way). So I don't know. If it was gas, there wasn't much I could have done about it. I give her gas drops before bed and make sure she's well-burped. But I held her and rocked her and told her I loved her and kissed her. She was mostly asleep by the time I put her back in the crib, so I know by that time there was nothing wrong with her.
Seconds after I closed her door, the screaming started again, worse than before. So we went back to the ten-minute intervals. I was crying, which I never do. James was fretting. I updated my Facebook status, telling the Internet I was going to eat my young.
James offered to go calm her down. "NO!" I said. "That'll screw everything up!" I was a little worried that my rocking her before had already made it worse.
A few minutes later, he went upstairs anwyay, and I didn't stop him. The practical, logical side of me wanted to, but the mother just sagged with relief. Grace stopped crying. I stopped crying. James came down twenty minutes later. "What did you do?" It was both an accusation and honest curiosity. Duct tape? Pacifier taped to face? What?
"Nothing," he said.
"Oh, you just rocked her?" I asked.
"No. I just went up there and read my book on our bed so I could go in every few minutes and you wouldn't have to."
"You mean she stopped crying on her own?"
"Yup."
I was relieved for a number of reasons. The first was that I don't have a roasting pan large enough for her.
She's woken up once since. I have a feeling she'll wake at least a couple times tonight, but I can handle that. I hope I never have to hear her scream like that again, though; if she were doing this night after night I don't know what I'd do. I know some mothers have children who do this, and all I can do is gape at them in awe that they're still alive and breathing.
The good thing about all this is that if she wakes up at 4:00 this morning, I'll be more than happy to get up and feed her. She's sound asleep, and I still want to go in and comfort her. It's odd how I wait all day for her bedtime, and then when she is in bed, I miss her so much.
I always wanted to do the co-sleeping thing. People I know who have done it have all had good experiences. They get enough sleep, they get to bond so much with their babies, and so much more. There is absolutely nothing sweeter than curling up next to a sleeping baby.
Unfortunately, the reality with me and Grace is that she's a twitchy sleeper, and I'm a touchy sleeper. Until I'm asleep, anything and everything will wake me up. The best thing that ever happened to James and me was getting that king size bed. Grace twitches and snuffles and jolts no matter how deeply she's sleeping. We tried co-sleeping. For three days. I went from deep adoration of my newborn daughter to GET ME OFF THIS RIDE STOP I DON'T WANT TO BE A MOM ANYMORE. So that had to stop.
Now, hopefully, once she's settled into a good nap routine, she'll be back to the excellent nighttime sleeper she's been since about two weeks. My sister assures me this will happen. I know that in two days, when it has happened, I will think, "Well, of COURSE. I knew she'd do it." But right now I'm so uncertain. I'm afraid that she'll turn into a terrible nighttime sleeper, and the next year of my life will be a bleak haze of sleeplessness and possibly Prozac.
On a brighter note!
We have Naptime Boot Camp in full swing. Today we also began Operation: Phalange Discovery. For the last few days, I've caught The Child staring intently at her hands several times. Like something is just on the edge of her awareness, and she's not sure what it is, but she almost... has... it... and... it's gone. I get that feeling a lot, which is probably why I can spot it in other people.
Well. Today she was in her bouncy seat with the hangy bar over it. Normally she stares at it for a while, and then starts yelling at the musical frog. Today she completely ignored the musical frog, and she started batting at the turtle with the rattle. On purpose.
She also brought things to her mouth instead of trying to bring her whole body and face to things. I had a few moments of sadistic merriment when she grabbed at hangy fish thing from the bar and pulled and pulled and pulled and just couldn't get the velcro to come loose. The grunts, the wheezes, the wide-open mouth whole inches from the object of her affection. I wish I had video. I took the fish off and gave it to her. It's the size of her face, but that didn't stop her from trying to fit the whole thing in her mouth. I wish I had video of that, too. Instead of trying to shove in the small fins first or even getting it sideways, she pressed the whole wide flat part against her face and started rooting like crazy. I think I laughed 'til I cried. Which explains her need for revenge tonight.
I ought to go to bed. I'm wrecked, and tomorrow will probably be rough.
The cat sits next to me on the couch. She is snoring. I had no idea cats could snore. It sounds remarkably like the video of Grace snoring.
Speaking of the cat, I'm starting to feel a very faint affection for her. This is alarming.
First, the boring stuff (I'm writing about this because some of you have asked me to):
I spoke too soon yesterday. The Child woke up several times yesterday evening. I couldn't handle it and went grocery shopping. Some of you already know that I hate grocery shopping. I hate it even more at 10:00 at night. And even more when it's 37 below zero. This tells you how distressing this was for me. And she wasn't even crying that much, just waking up off and on for a couple hours.
This morning she woke up early again. At five. I went in to check on her almost right away, and I am so glad I did. Her swaddling blanket was wrapped all the way around her head. I'm not talking a corner of it. I'm talking the main part of the blanket that is supposed to wrap around her torso. I tore it off her and then ran out of the room, hoping she'd go back to sleep. She didn't, which is probably a good thing; if I hadn't had to feed her, I would have lain awake in bed, my mind turning all the what-ifs over and over and over in my head.
But all is not lost for the swaddle. I figured out how she got out. We'd had the crib propped up just a little bit from when she was first born and had a *kid. She was creeping down the bed, and her movement pulled the swaddle loose. Just to be sure, I've been checking during every nap today (one was almost two hours long!), and it's held very tight.
*OH. Oh my. I'm more tired than I realized. That's supposed to be "cold". I'm leaving that typo in, though, because it's just way too much fun.
Naptime Boot Camp: Day Two went swimmingly. Emphasis on "Day". She was a ball of brilliant sunshine almost constantly today. Night Two is another story. After I put her down tonight, all cozily swaddled and happy and sleepy, she started screaming. And I tell you what, I have never heard her scream like this.
At the twenty-minute mark (going in every ten, of course), I went into her room, and I broke. I picked her up. I had to make sure she wasn't actually hurting. I think she might have been. Even after she calmed down, she kept arching her back and straightening her legs out (my child is now taller than I am, by the way). So I don't know. If it was gas, there wasn't much I could have done about it. I give her gas drops before bed and make sure she's well-burped. But I held her and rocked her and told her I loved her and kissed her. She was mostly asleep by the time I put her back in the crib, so I know by that time there was nothing wrong with her.
Seconds after I closed her door, the screaming started again, worse than before. So we went back to the ten-minute intervals. I was crying, which I never do. James was fretting. I updated my Facebook status, telling the Internet I was going to eat my young.
James offered to go calm her down. "NO!" I said. "That'll screw everything up!" I was a little worried that my rocking her before had already made it worse.
A few minutes later, he went upstairs anwyay, and I didn't stop him. The practical, logical side of me wanted to, but the mother just sagged with relief. Grace stopped crying. I stopped crying. James came down twenty minutes later. "What did you do?" It was both an accusation and honest curiosity. Duct tape? Pacifier taped to face? What?
"Nothing," he said.
"Oh, you just rocked her?" I asked.
"No. I just went up there and read my book on our bed so I could go in every few minutes and you wouldn't have to."
"You mean she stopped crying on her own?"
"Yup."
I was relieved for a number of reasons. The first was that I don't have a roasting pan large enough for her.
She's woken up once since. I have a feeling she'll wake at least a couple times tonight, but I can handle that. I hope I never have to hear her scream like that again, though; if she were doing this night after night I don't know what I'd do. I know some mothers have children who do this, and all I can do is gape at them in awe that they're still alive and breathing.
The good thing about all this is that if she wakes up at 4:00 this morning, I'll be more than happy to get up and feed her. She's sound asleep, and I still want to go in and comfort her. It's odd how I wait all day for her bedtime, and then when she is in bed, I miss her so much.
I always wanted to do the co-sleeping thing. People I know who have done it have all had good experiences. They get enough sleep, they get to bond so much with their babies, and so much more. There is absolutely nothing sweeter than curling up next to a sleeping baby.
Unfortunately, the reality with me and Grace is that she's a twitchy sleeper, and I'm a touchy sleeper. Until I'm asleep, anything and everything will wake me up. The best thing that ever happened to James and me was getting that king size bed. Grace twitches and snuffles and jolts no matter how deeply she's sleeping. We tried co-sleeping. For three days. I went from deep adoration of my newborn daughter to GET ME OFF THIS RIDE STOP I DON'T WANT TO BE A MOM ANYMORE. So that had to stop.
Now, hopefully, once she's settled into a good nap routine, she'll be back to the excellent nighttime sleeper she's been since about two weeks. My sister assures me this will happen. I know that in two days, when it has happened, I will think, "Well, of COURSE. I knew she'd do it." But right now I'm so uncertain. I'm afraid that she'll turn into a terrible nighttime sleeper, and the next year of my life will be a bleak haze of sleeplessness and possibly Prozac.
On a brighter note!
We have Naptime Boot Camp in full swing. Today we also began Operation: Phalange Discovery. For the last few days, I've caught The Child staring intently at her hands several times. Like something is just on the edge of her awareness, and she's not sure what it is, but she almost... has... it... and... it's gone. I get that feeling a lot, which is probably why I can spot it in other people.
Well. Today she was in her bouncy seat with the hangy bar over it. Normally she stares at it for a while, and then starts yelling at the musical frog. Today she completely ignored the musical frog, and she started batting at the turtle with the rattle. On purpose.
She also brought things to her mouth instead of trying to bring her whole body and face to things. I had a few moments of sadistic merriment when she grabbed at hangy fish thing from the bar and pulled and pulled and pulled and just couldn't get the velcro to come loose. The grunts, the wheezes, the wide-open mouth whole inches from the object of her affection. I wish I had video. I took the fish off and gave it to her. It's the size of her face, but that didn't stop her from trying to fit the whole thing in her mouth. I wish I had video of that, too. Instead of trying to shove in the small fins first or even getting it sideways, she pressed the whole wide flat part against her face and started rooting like crazy. I think I laughed 'til I cried. Which explains her need for revenge tonight.
I ought to go to bed. I'm wrecked, and tomorrow will probably be rough.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)