Who’s to say what it is, exactly, that August does when he’s alone, asleep in his nursery?

You never quite know what you’re going to find when you wake him up. Or rather, when he wakes you up.

For example, there was the time he had turned himself a full 90 degrees in his crib so instead of laying longways (normal) he was laying latitude-ways (not normal). (Remember, this is a child who can’t walk, let alone roll over, find his mouth with his fingers or control his head — though on the latter three, he’s definitely making progress.)

Then there was the time, he woke his mum at an irregular 1.30 a.m. and she found him laying at one end of the crib in just a T-shirt and diaper with the swaddle all the way at the other end of the crib. Mysterious.

Then there was the time that just one booted foot was extricated from the swaddle, dangling through the slats of the crib in the cool air.

And then there was the time that he’d somehow managed to propel himself to the top end of his crib so that his head was pressed against the slats and his neck was turned at a totally unacceptable angle. If he were stiff and old like a grown up, that would have resulted in a severe crick in his neck. Did August mind? Not one bit!

Meanwhile, his mum is dealing with her own nighttime antics, waking up at 4.15 a.m. by habit and feeling fully — gasp — awake by 5 a.m. Don’t worry, it doesn’t last. By 7 a.m., the exhaustion fairies take over and there’s nothing she’d rather do than stretch out in the bed and close her eyes and breathe deeply and relaaaaaaaax…

Of course, that never happens.

Tags: Nursery, Sleeping

Today, I’m writing about sleep deprivation.

YIKES.

It sneaks up behind you and nudges you. It starts you swaying, slowly at first. Without attention, it swells into a tidal wave. It brings you to the ground. Oh boy, without sleep, life is not worth living.

Today, sleep (or lack thereof) and Francesca butted heads.

It’s not that I’d had a particularly bad night. Nor had I had an especially grueling day. It wasn’t any one moment that I could put my finger on; but six weeks of sleeping with one eye open takes its toll. And today, the toll needed to be paid.

August was hungry. If he could talk, he would have told me he was starving. “I’m having a growth spurt, mummy.”

And he was squealing.

We tried everything: more food, new positions, songs. Meanwhile, I was keeling over, swaying on my own two feet, wondering whether you could just hire a babysitter to come over and watch the baby so you could take a blessed nap.

And then I realized, that maybe August was tired too. Which he was. He’d been telling me that all along, but I’d misinterpreted the signs.

And we both slept: he in his little bed and I in my big bed.

And I’m alive again.

Whew, it was a close call.

Back to Baby Augie.

Tags: Napping, Schedule, Sleeping

It’s not enough to call August, August. We need additional names. Many additional names that get to the heart of his highly complex and multifaceted personality and emotions. (“Feed me!” “Cuddle me!” “Change me!” “Let me sleep!”)

As I reflect on the nicknames that have cropped up most frequently in our household, I can’t help noticing that none of these names sound particularly endearing or charming. But they’re charming to me. And so’s my little piggie wig wig.

General Food-Related Names
Meatball
Ham Sandwich
Honey Glazed Ham
Pork Chop
Pork Thighs
Turkey
Heavy Goose

Size- / Shape-Related Names
Smudge
Scraps
Scrap Heap

Facial Names
Snarly
One-Eyed Jack

Crying Names
Squawker
Squeaky

Bathtime Names
Smelly Fish
Squishy Fish
Squeaky Fish

Feeding Names
Monster
Shark / Shark’s Teeth
The Machine

In the comments below, share some of the nicknames you’ve used for your own children, nieces, nephews, baby brothers, baby sisters et al. C’mon, it’s fun! (No need to reveal your real name.)

Back to Baby Augie.

Tags: Crying, Feeding, Sleeping

Yesterday, August didn’t want to sleep.

He was cheerful and chirpy from morning to noon to night.

He lay on his playmat and kicked. He smiled. He cooed. He refused to nap.

So….

His mum decided she was going to be especially active with him today. She’d sing songs. She’d read stories. She’d give him an extended (extra fun!) bath. She’d take him on two walks instead of one. She’d bring out all the toys. She’d play music.

But today, August didn’t want to be awake. All he wanted to do was sleep.

So….

His mum folded up the playmat. She silenced the CD player. She put away the books. She dropped the toys back in their bin. She did one walk. She did a shortened bath. She sang only the softest songs.

While his mum may have decades of experience over him, at age five weeks, August has once again foiled his mum.

Predictability is not the name of August’s game.

Back to Baby Augie.

Tags: Playing, Schedule, Sleeping

I can’t say that sleeping is August’s finest talent. “Going down” usually involves an avalanche of resistance — piercing wails, coughing, spluttering and kicks to mum’s stomach, chest and breast. (There’s gratitude for you.)

But with Dad, his behavior is altogether more polite. He whimpers and then is quiet. Michael theorizes that it takes him exactly six minutes to settle (and silence) himself into sleep.

Since Michael is out at squash, we are testing this theory.

At 6.34 p.m., he was put into his cot. By 6.42 p.m. there was silence. Success! Hurrah!

BUT at 6.49 p.m. there were wails again. Does it still count?

Meanwhile, the cats sing to his cries. Yes, it is absolutely ludicrous.

Testing, Testing, Shhh, Two, Three — ADDENDUM

Oh bless me, it worked. Six minutes on the dot. 6.49 p.m. –> 6.55 p.m. Miracle Baby!

Tags: Crying, Schedule, Sleeping

The curtains in the nursery are drawn, a night light casts small stars on the walls and ceiling. The baby is blessedly asleep. He went down without too much squealing and squawking. All in his bedroom is peaceful and dark.

In the living room, however, here is mum, awake, but barely. They say that when baby sleeps, mum should sleep, and yet, it’s almost impossible to turn down this opportunity for a bit of me-time; a bit of time to check the bills, empty the dishwasher and maybe even post to this blog.

Time keeps ticking and each second draws closer to the moment that the wails will pierce through the drone of NPR and Baby Augie will have to be hoisted out of his bed and bounced and fed and me-time will fade away like a dream.

Can I bear to sacrifice me-time for an hour more of sleep? Survey says: YOU MUST! And yet, here I sit, unable to drag myself away from this grown-up world . . .

Tags: Exhaustion, Mother, Nursery, Sleeping