9 = the number of baby jigging steps** it takes me to get from one side of my bedroom to the other.
7 = the number of seconds it takes me to walk the nine steps.
498 = the number of times I paced up and down staring longingly at my bed and the wide mouthed sprawled snoring man in it at 4.30am this morning.
16 = the number of times Peach fell asleep only for her eyes to swing open again as if nothing had happened. What? Oh no, I wasn’t sleeping [laughs], I was just momentarily checking out the inside of my eyelids.
52 = the extra laps I did after she was finally asleep, just for good measure.
I don’t have a mathematical brain but I’d say that the above algorithm took a fair percentage off my recommended/preferred nightly hours of sleep.
So. Six weeks. The six week mark. A wonder week if I remember correctly? I’ve spent the last couple of nights like this, it’s been the first time since she was born that I’ve had to work really hard to get her back to sleep. They’re tricky, aren’t they? The way they look so deeply asleep one moment, then wham, the eyes are wide open again. But then you feel that comfortable warmth as her body finally relaxes and moulds to you. Got her!
It’s a strange kind of walking meditation, if you let it be so.
I think of you often. Sometimes I thread words together along tiny lines in my head. Sometimes I think I should write them down. I mainly don’t. I think: that is such a great sentence, I totally won’t forget it. Then it floats away and the memory of each word becomes faint and distant.
So here I am, sleeping baby in left arm, typing with right hand. Looking out from the couch at a sea of dishes in the kitchen. Thinking about the stewed apple and cream I wanted to make for my dessert. I may be able to type relatively well one-handed but unfortunately for me I can’t cut up an apple. In the spirit of honesty I will admit to you that in my one-handed frustration I may have had a few spoonfuls of cream straight from the tub.
I am so very tired, little blog. This baby that I continually come to tell you about is not much of a sleeper and it has me in all manner of muddles.
She has taken to bottle feeding like a… hmm can’t think of the saying, the only thing coming to mind is “like a dog on heat” and I think that is highly inappropriate… [so insert appropriate line here, reader]. What I mean to say is that she really likes the bottle. It’s peaceful and lovely compared to breastfeeding and I’ve slowly come around to our decision. I can even go so far as to say I’m so happy we took this path. She likes food too, amazing as I didn’t predict this. All of these things had this mother fooled. You see, I thought that once she started feeding and eating happily and well, the sleep thing would just fall into place.
What is this baby trying to do to me?!
Not only is she an unsettled sleeper overnight, but she has now decided that day sleeps aren’t all that much chop either. In the last fortnight she has had two (TWO) naps longer than 40 minutes. Today she had two sleeps (out of the five times I attempted to get her to sleep). One was a 30 minute nap, the second 40 minutes. That was it. At seven months old I really think it would be beneficial for everyone involved if she had a little more than that? It’s 9.30pm now. Between 7pm and now she has gone to sleep and woken four times. So here I sit, enjoying the cuddle time very much but worrying and scheming and thinking about how to get her to sleep for longer. Because all those good things like growth and healing and dreams happen when you sleep, right?
I’m at a loose end people.
Tell me, do your babies sleep? Do you rock them, do you let them cry? Do you wear them in a sling, do you take them for a drive, do you pat them? Or do you just put them in their cots to have them drift off into peaceful slumber like some of my friends… (grrrr!)
A brilliant, blissful, full and deep night’s sleep. Yes, I got to have one. The lovely Prince Charming gallantly and bravely took on last night’s night shift with the kids. I hid away in our back room under many woollen blankets and slept. I even slept long enough to remember a dream. It was a bit of a spooky one, but it was a dream nonetheless. I used to remember my dreams every morning. Now, I can’t remember the last time. I woke vaguely each time the Pixie (or Birdie) woke but was able to drift back off with a bit of yoga breathing and quiet thoughts.
The Pixie only had 2 wake ups compared to the 3-4 she has with me, and I was wondering if she was more satisfied with a full belly from the formula in the night rather than breastfeeding overnight. This morning when I expressed I expressed a substantial amount less than the amount she drank from the bottle with Prince Charming overnight. Questions, questions. Trying to let it go and just relax with the memory of waking up in the night simply to roll over and go back to sleep again. Absolute bliss!
The biggest difference of all with such a giddy amount of sleep? I woke up feeling happy.
Dreams or no dreams, that hasn’t happened for a while.