Whew. I wish I could say "the baby is a month old, ain't no excuse to not hop back on the ol' blog train," but I cannot (CAN. NOT.) say that. I'm going to link up with Kelly for 7 extra-quick takes about why that is a thing which I cannot say.
1. Did you guys know that babies sleep like garbage?! I mean, this isn't my first rodeo of baby-having but I am OLDER and TIREDER than last time. (Also less worried about everything, and thus ripe for a good, old-fashioned overnight coma.) I have been experimenting nonstop with sleep conditions to coax a longer sleep out of Declan, and tonight I hit on a surely-not-to-be-successfully-repeated combination that netted me four straight hours: nurse baby until he is passed the heck out, in very specific low-light-but-not-no-light and low-sound-but-not-no-sound environment (I find that a brightly lit iPad screen and a podcast playing out of my phone is about the correct amount of light and noise); VERY GENTLY AS IF HE IS A BOMB, put said baby in the Rock'n'Play (with vibration, natch); turn on the sound machine to rain (no timer, rookie, because why would you want it to turn off? HE MIGHT AWAKEN EARLY!); and dive for the bed, burrow beneath the covers and pray for silence. And I just realized that my boast of four consecutive hours is a big fat lie (what the heck my phone said it was 2:30am but it was only 12:30am waaaaaaaah). I'd say "back to the drawing board" but I'm all drawn out. I have tried everydarnthing.
2. Meanwhile, after Declan's baptism last Sunday and a wonderful visit from all his Pennsylvania cousins -- someday I might have pictures! -- we're all feeling under the weather again. I'm mostly okay, but Declan is a little congested. Big sister seems mostly fine but her sleep has been interrupted like nobody's business so something must be bugging her. But my husband...
3. MANFLU. The less said about that, the better.
4. So since I've been so tired and useless I've been mostly just nursing continuously and watching Netflix. I just watched season one of Reign, which I honestly expected to hate but do not as long as I pretend to know nothing about Mary, Queen of Scots. And then I picked up where I had left off when I somehow forgot I was in the middle of watching Peaky Blinders. I've been dreaming in a Manchester accent.
5. What else, what else... Oh! Last night was one of those nights where I was feeling cocky and overconfident about my ability to get this kid to sleep without being snuggled up against me (see #6). Michael was in the guest room to sleep because the plague that is MANFLU was making his snoring so bad it was even waking him up out of a dead sleep, and I was feeding Declan when I heard a familiar explosive diaper sound (breastfed babies, amirite?). Three seconds later I realized: it's about three inches from the bottom of his hairline. Which means that his clothes, his blanket, the diaper-changing pad and the Boppy cover are all now covered in poop. And it's 2am. And my phone was dead from listening to podcasts so I couldn't even text for reinforcements. Somehow -- I think maybe it's because of all the screaming from a baby who did. not. like. having his whole back scrubbed down with baby wipes? -- Michael happened to come check on me (with a giant 2-year-old in his arms, while she guzzled her fortieth cup of warm milk for the night), so he was able to put all the poopy, goopy items in the washer and/or soaking tub of OxyClean water for me. It was delightful.
6. So all these sleeping woes are maybe my fault, in part. I mean, we're all genuinely not feeling well which is not my fault, but I have to admit that I have discovered the solution for sleeping: this child will sleep almost indefinitely if we just co-sleep. Part of me wants to give in to the inevitability of that -- and come 5am I will, fear not -- and another part of me wants to find something he likes as much so that I can sleep without being completely stationary all night long.
7. Almost an hour of nursing and diaper changing later, he's showing signs of being ready to be