The rules of the game keep changing. Every weekend I have a new set of instructions from the latest book Heidiâ€™s been reading. Often the instructions one weekend entirely contradict the instructions I was given just 7 days earlier. How we manage to do things so wrong is a mystery to me, I mean how hard can it be? He eats, sleeps and poops and itâ€™s taken this long and weâ€™re still learning how to smoothly facilitate these 3 very simple processes.
The rules today are: give him his bath at 8:45am to relax him. Put him to bed at 9:00am and with any luck heâ€™ll sleep till 11. It is 9:30am now and heâ€™s still wide-awake in his cot goobling to himself. When he wakes up give him milk from his new Playtex bottle. This should trick him into thinking heâ€™s drinking from a breast. The instructions for the bottle are in the trash so extrapolate what information you can from the promotional literature on the website and give it a shot. The bottle has a plastic liner inside that deflates like a breast (yuck). You can then take him for a walk if I so desire, heâ€™ll be well rested and heâ€™ll enjoy the scenery. At 1pm feed him again then put him down for another 2-hour nap and thatâ€™s it.
As if thatâ€™s going to be it.
Last weekend she put him down at 8:45am before leaving for work and said: â€œunder no circumstances go to him! He has to learn to self-soothe.â€ At 10:30am, ears ringing and brain tingling, I texted her at work to let her know I couldnâ€™t take the screaming any more, I was literally going mental. She immediately called back to let me know that: â€œgo to him under no circumstances,â€ didnâ€™t actually mean â€˜no circumstancesâ€™. For example, she said, I should never leave him for more than an hour. Well, duh! After that traumatic experience he was listless for the remainder of the weekend. See his expression on last weekendâ€™s photos.
A problem with these naps and this tiny flat is that I canâ€™t eat, pee, dress or move whilst he gets his beauty sleep. My mum keeps telling me that babies get used to whatever noise levels are around them. If I were constantly moving, eating, peeing and dressing this may well be true, but as these processes naturally occur just a few times a day heâ€™s not going to get used to them. One creak of the floorboards and his little ears prick up and the screaming begins. So I sit in the living room, semi-naked, legs crossed, bladder pulsing, my whole body withering as I imagine all the tasty snacks less then 15 feet from where Iâ€™m sat. At least itâ€™s quiet now, heâ€™s just dropped off and in my sleep-deprived parched, starved, prostrate state I am free to bitch about him on my blog. I should be thankful for these small mercies.
Enjoy your sleep you little devil!