Archive for the ‘Buddha Baby’ Category

March 15, 2008

The last two nights, I have been attempting to get BB back into his cot.

Effectively, this means the dreaded CIO.

The first night wasn’t too bad. He cried and all, but T. took over after half an hour, and once the worst of it was over, at around 7:30, BB slept throught till after 4am – a miracle.

Last night, not so easy.

He was hysterical. Really hysterical, to the point where he actually vomited.

I couldn’t do it.

So there we were, snuggling on the mattress on the floor again.

Except after all that being worked up, he was still unsettled.

I have no idea how any of this will be resolved. Most likely when he eventually grows out of it of his own volition.

When he is five.

the plan…

January 20, 2008

What is this? A whole baby sleep cycle, 45 minutes alone in the cot, without waking? Where is the BB I know and love tonight?

Eek. The last two nights with our new pissy little gentle no co-sleeping regime have been harsh. OMG. (Yes, it warrants MSN language.)

BB has been waking Every! Ten! Minutes!

Serious torture. To the point where I actually had to call my mother to come and take him off my hands for a few hours yesterday, just to get some sleep. Now I get why this baby sleeping caper is so hard for most people. My extreme napability has shielded me fairly well thus far, but this is intense.

One hour! It’s a miracle! We are winning small battles. He is not going ballistic as soon as I put him horizontal in my arms, which is good. He has started actually allowing me to put him down in his cot to sleep for short stretches. Short, short stretches. I am hopeful this will work ultimately, despite the current sleep dep.

So here is what we’re doing. For the record. And for Brandy.

Playing super-longplay hippy music CD with babbling brook and birdsong and tinkly piano on an hour-long loop.
Weaning him onto wrapping his arms around a soft toy instead of my neck.
Creating more routine sleep times during the day and at night.
Developing a structured bedtime routine – bath, story, bottle, cuddle. (No, we didn’t have one before. We suck.)
Using key phrase to calm him to sleep: Shh… time for sleeping…
Holding him for increasingly shorter periods to settle him before putting him in the cot.

Supposedly, all of this will change his sleep cues and he will be better able to settle himself without having to reach over and grab my hair constantly.

In fact, just after I wrote that he woke up (1 hr 15 minutes – not bad) and he only took a moment to settle. Better still was the urgency with which he grabbed the fluffy tail of his toy lion and curled his arm over it, so the mummy-substitute part of it all does appear to be working.

We’re yet to see whether the sleep part of it works. Hopefully it will be soon. Hopefully within seven days, when I have to be back at work.

Boo.

January 18, 2008

Well, lets see if BB will give me a chunk of time long enough to actully write something, instead of just knock two feeds off my blogroll.

Things here haven’t been too bad.

Well, he’s still sleeping like a piece of steaming shit, of course, but my step-kids have gone home, and me and the T-meister have been actually getting along – two things not necessarily related to each other, but then again, maybe they are.

Anyway, it’s good. Due to having a routine (again?), we have, at least, a baby who will go to sleep at an appropriate time, even if he won’t stay asleep.

It’s something though. And our copy of “The No-Cry Sleep Solution” arrived yesterday, so I am hoping the dirty t-shirt in the cot / hippy music / soft toy attachment will start doing something useful in time.

Dare I hope.

Meanwhile, countdown to return-to-work has now reached nine days. God. I try to be positive – it is mostly a new role, it is only three days, I have been getting a bit bored anyway etc etc etc but still, the thought of having to go in there periodically revolts me, especially the thought that since I’m job-sharing I won’t even get my own desk to litter with photographs and make everyone puke. Wah.

Finally, an admission. That I could never make on my original blog due to the utter shame.

The last couple of weeks I have been struggling with smoking again.

I know. What an absolute idiot. I can’t believe my own stupidness. It started as one on New Years, then was soon one a day, but is slowly building up. I have to get a grip on it. I have to. I don’t want to be like I was before I quit, which was just about the most hardened smoker you could ever meet, like I’m talking fifty or sixty a day during some points in my life. Literally, a chain-smoker.

I hate the feeling of slavery to it; that bit has come back so quickly, regardless of how much or little I smoke. It was so good to just not have to deal with the cravings anymore. I know that stopping again entirely is the only way to get over the cravings ultimately. That the only thing causing the cravings is the fact that I keep having more cigarettes. I know all of it. Which is why I’m so very disgusted with myself.

Anyway, bleugh. Feel free to chastise and/or give assvice.

About the breastfeeding…

January 5, 2008

…I think it might be over.

The last few days, Buddha Baby has been refusing the breast entirely. It’s not like the other times he did the refusal thing, where he would cry and be frustrated and arch his back, and it was as if he was interested, but he couldn’t get what he wanted. Traumatic for all, in other words.

 Now it’s as if he’s just not interested; he nuzzles his head into my breast, but he just will not suck. I even tried dragging out the nipple shield and SNS, but that only served to make him angry about being tricked into sucking once he realised the silicon wasn’t a bottle or his dummy.

It could be the top teeth which are in the process of coming down; it could be the mouth thrush he’s had recently. It could be my less-than-calm reaction to the biting he’s been doing lately.

But I don’t know.

Kellymom says babies rarely wean before they are a year old. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that what Kellymom says is not always true.

So we’ll keep pumping, I guess, and hope he comes back.

But I’m not counting on it. Buddha Baby knows what he wants and doesn’t want these days.

feeling a tad maudlin today…

December 30, 2007

Dear Buddha Baby,

A couple of days ago, you turned ten months. Today is not a milestone day. It’s the day before the day before the end of the year you were born. Nothing more.

But today, something feels different; I feel like I have seen the end of your infancy.

It wasn’t anything spectacular. You have started crawling, babbling, pulling up to a stand. You have two teeth. All wonderful, all familiar.

It wasn’t these things.

But in the glimpse of your long body in my arms in the full-length mirror, in the sleepy suck of what I feel you really do want to be one of your last breastfeeds, in the way you work so hard, so independently, to tap your spoon in the bowl of mashed pasta, I felt your babyhood slip away from me.

And it’s sad, though it’s as it should be; the natural order. It’s the end of something. You will never need me like this again. Every day, every moment, you move further into your own life. And it’s a long way away — but it’s there, off in One Day.

Sometimes it feels as if the reason we have children is to give them away to the world.

One for the 21st birthday party speech…

December 20, 2007

We waited by the conveyer belt for the suitcases. Everyone was quiet; it was past 1am, and we were all recovering from the burst of awkward happiness that comes over us all every time we are reunited after a year.

Buddha Baby was red-eyed and over-tired.

As we waited for the luggage, I bounced him in the wrap sling to stop the grizzles: We’re going on a bumpy road, a bumpy road, a bumpy road…

And he projectile vomited. Everywhere. A fountain of white liquid, a positive tsunami of puke.

Hi kids. This is your baby brother. Welcome back!

eight month minutae

December 19, 2007

The day before yesterday, at exactly eight months corrected (or 9.5 actual months), Buddha Baby officially started crawling.

It’s frightening, the drive towards independance, and how quickly it’s come on us.

A few weeks ago, He started crying when I tried to give him a bottle. I had no idea what was going on, until eventually I tried letting him feed one to himself, lying horizontal on the floor. And that did the job. Now he wants to drink most of his bottles by himself (except the very sleepy, “I’d have a breast if you hadn’t pumped all the milk out of them, mummy” bottles, which he prefers to have curled up in my arms like a newborn.)

Now he has started doing the same thing with solid food. He has learnt how to spit it out. Not just dribble it out sloppily – actually powerfully spit, munitions-like, with raspberry sounds and all: Schppllttttttt

It’s the first irritating habit he’s developed – the first of many, no doubt.

He does this sometimes when he doesn’t like something, but mostly when he wants to feed it to himself. This is fine with toast, fruit, pasta. Not so fine with cereal or beef casserole, which he had for lunch (read: smeared all over the high chair then threw on the ground) today.

Another thing Buddha Baby is doing a lot of is banging stuff on stuff.

It’s as if the two identifying features of any object are a) how it feels in the mouth and b) how it feels when banged on a variety of other objects.

It’s funny to try and imagine how he must perceive the world.

Sometimes, when I find myself being super-parenty and thinking for him (Jasper! Icky! Don’t eat grass!) I try to imagine what it’s like for him to be experiencing things for the first time. I watch his facial expressions and try to imagine the internal monologue:

Mmm. What is this funny green stuff? It feels tickly on my legs. It smells funny. I wonder what it tastes like?

It blows my mind a bit to do this, though.

Which is kind of fun, I suppose.

December 7, 2007

Well, thank you all.

I needed those reassurances of normality, to hear I’m not the only one who sometimes wishes their spouse would fall backwards off the planet.

I’m feeling somewhat more sane today.

Grumpy still, but not crazy. I might even let T. do the post-in-reply-to-goading that he’s always fantasising about.

(And Dawn, you are right. That was in fact the THIRD car we have written off in the last eighteen months… You have to laugh, don’t you?)

The last couple of days haven’t been as bad. Note the italics on as.

We have had a couple of lucky breaks, though Buddha Baby has still been waking frequently during the night. Including a nice long playtime from 2am last night, that involved an hour and a half of cooing / squealing / throwing legs between cot bars / rolling / tumbling / rocking back and forth on his knees.

But at least it was cheerful. And at least he hasn’t done the tearful, near hysterical four hours of tantrum before finally passing out in sheer exhaustion at 11pm. And That Is Golden.

Meanwhile, it is no surprise to see my hard-won (meagre) milk supply has dropped for the gazillionth time, so I get to play The Endless Pumpage for a few days, again.

It’s just laughable really, what I do to myself. I really shouldn’t complain.