Q: what happens when you’re busy extolling the virtues of your second child to anyone who’ll listen?
A: while your back is turned, said child turns unexpectedly into demon spawn.
D’you think it’s because I dressed her in red?
Ok, perhaps that’s a little strong… but seriously, we’ve had some hellish nights of late. Little Miss Sunshine has decided to strenuously resist going to bed in the evening. I think I may develop RSI from all the pat-pat-patting. Alternatively, she goes down easily, but makes up for it later. Take last night – she screamed blue murder between 2.15 and 3.00am, then ‘slept’ noisily and restlessly in bed with me until 4.45am, then woke up, but was too tired to feed properly… cue more screaming. And so on…
Grrr. I can only hope that this is one of those times when an ‘unsettled’ period is followed by a big leap forward… preferably in night-time sleep patterns. It is, however, conceivable that this could be related to teething. I know, it sounds far too early – she’s only eight weeks old. But I cut my first teeth around 2 months, and Finn cut his just before he turned 3 months, so I’m expecting more early teeth (oh joy!)
Anyway, I wrote the following several days ago and didn’t get around to posting it – partly because it was far too saccharine sweet, very unlike me! But I’m posting it now, because I just have to remind myself :blank:
Having a Winter baby is a whole different story from having a Summer baby. In the beginning, I started feeding Niamh in bed with me at night because it was so damn cold, I couldn’t bear to leave the warmth of my snuggly doona. Now, after weeks of broken sleep, I think I’d be incapable of anything else. I’m just too darn tired. Now, she wakes up and cries for me, and I get her out of the cot, into bed with me, and onto a breast, all while I’m just barely awake myself 🙂
After she finishes on one side, she dozes off. I lie her on my tummy, her head just within kissing distance, and watch those delightful little smiles that happen as babies drift into REM sleep. (According to Welsh folklore, newborn babies smile in their sleep when they’ve been kissed by fairies, which I think is terribly sweet).
This is my favourite time. This is the time when Niamh is mine, all mine. I don’t have to share her with anybody, and nobody else is clamouring for my attention. And I know that despite the exhaustion, despite my desperate longing for a full night’s sleep – when it comes, I’m going to miss these midnight cuddles.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to experience another magic moment – apparently dirty nappies don’t change themselves!
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