22 Days Old (Beloved Tyrant)

Ever wanted to work out how little you really know?

Become a parent.

Babysitting friends' children was NEVER this hard (probably because sooner or later, you always give them back).

There's a definite drawback to breastfeeding on demand; they wake quicker than on formula (because breastmilk is digested faster), and too bad Mother if you're so tired you can barely keep your own head up, let alone watch out for your baby's. The last few days have seen Braeden sleep for no more than two hours at a time, but 1-1/12 is his usual pattern.

Yesterday morning I felt quite sorry for myself.. then I realised how damn lucky I was when the heat and his current growth spurt sent him into meltdown because from 12.30pm to 11.3opm (yes, eleven hours!) Braeden slept no more than five minutes at a time, and ONLY if I held him.

Now much as it sounds nice to hold your baby for eleven hours straight (gulp) it does make tiny things like potty stops, making a cup of tea or (gasp!) lunch completely fraught with danger. You can't risk anything until baby falls asleep, then you RUN your errand as fast as possible, but no matter how fast and efficient you are, baby will wake roaring before you're even half way done.

Poor little blighter. Another mother might just have said "look sunshine, you're going to your own bed so have a damn good cry about it and get it over with". I, however, am completely unable to let my baby cry unattended.

I can't do it. Even if I wanted to do it, (which I absolutely don't), my body would not let me. First the milk would pour out like twin Niagaras, then the abdomen would cramp, then (and this is really weird) the stitches would cramp. The milk and uterine cramps I understand, but the STITCHES???? WTF..?

Anyhoo, three nights of no more than two hours sleep in a row is making hell for the marriage bed. Wayne's taken to removing himself to the couch in the lounge at the first milk call, and is looking more and more like death warmed over each day. He's in total culture shock, poor bugger. I'm completely sympathetic to his plight - here he is, thrown in the deep end of parenthood when he's well set in his ways at 44 years of age, and without benefit of the hormones that are keeping his wife sane and baby-obsessed.

His days are long, hot and painful (his RSI is giving him what-for), and when he struggles home at around 9pm each night, he is greeted with a whispered "I've just got the baby to sleep, don't you DARE make any noise!"

No kisses, no "here's your dinner dear", no negligee (well a guy can wish, LOL). Nope, just a milk-stained, vomit in the hair, black pouches under the eyes exhausted wife who is so starved for adult conversation that the poor bloke is expected to immediately cough up with instant dinner and conversation.

Which he manfully does.. except ALL the bloody woman wants to do is debrief about the (you guessed it!) BABY!

Every single insecure moment, parental ponderance and infant achievement comes bubbling out of her, and woe betide the bloke who fails to make the right noises at the right time (even if he's desperately trying to catch the one programme that's still of interest on the idiot box).

So something's gotta give. Today I started Braeden on what I hope will evolve into a routine. Not a hard and fast clockwatching routine, but more a pattern that involves him going to sleep in his own bed after his activity time, and perhaps even his mother getting back a slice of her own life.

It hasn't been easy, but so far today Braeden has twice achieved sleep in his own bed. First time for an hour, and this second time for coming up two hours. Oh yeah he fought it, don't get me wrong. He's so damn worried that something interesting is going to happen and he's going to miss it by sleeping (also he's decided that no matter how hot it is, the best place for a baby to sleep is in his mother's arms, 24/7/365). We had quite the battle this morning, and finally I tricked him by getting him asleep on the breast (as I lay on the bed reading a book, LOL) then once he had finished and had been using said boob as a pillow (so cute!) for ten minutes, I was able to move my sleeping monkey to his own bed.

Heaven help me when he wakes and finds out I tricked him... LOL!

Eeep.. I hear stirring noises.. let's hope he's just in that stage of the cycle, and isn't about to properly wake for some time yet.

I'd really like to get the newer photos up, and to get on to designing his Thank You cards!