Monday 4 February 2013

Where's my baby?

Somebody has swapped my baby for one that has long naps...in a cot. Did I take the wrong baby home from our music class?

At the weekend I actually had to wake the Monkey because his nap went on so long.

I don't know what to do with myself. I can now finally start to do all the things I've been meaning to do since having a baby. Wash the floors. Find the bottom of the laundry basket. Start my freelance career.

Instead I sit dumb-founded, scared to move in case I break the spell.



Holy Mackerel

He did it. He actually did it. The night we moved the Monkey into his own room, he STTN (Slept Through the Night). I on the other hand woke every hour, tossed and turned, cried into my pillow, waited eagerly for a little cry for his mummy. But no...he didn't need me. In fact he had a jolly good night's sleep without us disturbing him with our groans and snores and god know's what else.

When his familiar little coughing cry finally sounded, I rushed into his room and gave him a blissful feed in the rocking chair. I didn't really know how to feel. Part of me wanted to sing from the roof tops and post something suitably smug on Facebook - I'd finally joined the STTN-club. The other part of me felt...well...a tad offended and a bit daft that we'd waited so long to move the Monkey to his own room. Had we endured months of sleepless nights for no reason at all?

But after the following night - when I did manage to actually get my first good night's sleep in half a year - I realised just how wonderful the STTN-club was. And I felt very proud of my little Monkey for managing so well on his own.

Of course, S-ingTTN didn't last long. And now the Monkey's sleep is pretty unpredictable. But I know it's possible - the Holy Grail of Motherhood has been discovered - so every night there is now hope.

Friday 4 January 2013

By heck they grow up so fast

Tonight the Monkey is sleeping in his own room. I sobbed as Mummy's Fat Friend gravely (or was it gleefully?) moved the cot.

I feel bereft. My baby is growing up.

I know I should be relieved. Some mums move their babes into the nursery within weeks. (These mums are the smug sleep through the night-ers).

Not me. Sigh. I probably could go on with the Monkey in our room...in fact, our bed, for years. Listening to his wee snores, being able to reach out a hand to comfort him...or, in reality, having to hold a pillow over my head as he dances around the cot, squeaking his Sofie Giraffe, at 5 in the morning.

I know that now's a good time for the Monkey (27 weeks). If I leave it any longer, it'll be tougher for him. And probably for me.

They grow up so fast. And as much as I treasure each new stage, new trick, new experience, I do sort of mourn the passing days.

But you know what I just tried to think of the things I miss and I actually can't think of any. I can't even remember what the Monkey was like as a newborn. Instead to buoy me up, here's a list of the things I don't miss.

Colic
Burping
Cluster feeding
Growth spurts every 5 minutes
Crying...hours and hours of crying.
Not being able to put the Monkey down EVER.
Endless pooey nappies
Struggling to get out of the door before the next feed is due
Expressing.

Maybe growing up isn't so bad after all. And anyway, there's always No.2...