The books say that it's great to have your newborn room-in with you. For the first few months, instead of putting him in his own (snazzily painted and decorated and only kinda smells like dirty diapers) room, let the kiddo bunk in the master bedroom. It's great for connection, familial bonding, eternal love and avoiding that messy "teenage" phase. (Okay, those last two might just be wishful thinking on my part.)
But, the experts warn, rooming-in is not for everyone. Certain parents are not suited to sleep two feet from their baby. What type of parent? The type who "feels the need to pick up the baby when it cries." Oh, okay. Those parents.
IS THERE ANY OTHER KIND OF PARENT? Seriously? There are parents who don't feel the need? I mean, I understand that certain schools of thought (read: old ones) recommend letting the crying go on indefinitely without acting on it, but was there ever a parent who didn't want to pick up the child? A parent who didn't have the inclination? Really?
Anyway, horror aside, I am one of "those" parents, and thus not the ideal roommate for Cael.
The problem? Infants make noises when they're falling asleep. Not just yawns and sighs, but full on whines, whimpers, gurgles, grunts and squeals. He is a one man band of sound. Apparently, this is normal. Good, even. He's working himself to sleep.
And working me into an early grave.
I don't wake up when Clio whines and Ryan has to get out of bed and take her outside. I don't wake up when Ryan spends thirty minutes vomiting in the adjacent bathroom. But if Cael so much as squeaks, I'm jolted awake. And I'm not supposed to do anything about it. I'm supposed to let him fuss for a few minutes and see if he falls back asleep.
That's like sitting me in front of a bowl of chocolate ice cream and telling me to just watch it melt for its own good. I have a limited amount of willpower and I really don't want allot any to seeing Cael squirm and ignoring it. This is using up all the willpower I was going to use to get back into my pre-pregnancy jeans.
With Cael as my roommate, I spend my nights clinging to the edge of my bed. I lie there listening to him whimper and moan while watching the clock and waiting impatiently for five minutes to pass so I can go comfort him. Granted, it doesn't usually get to that point because he does actually fall back asleep, but that isn't helping me. I can't fall back asleep (no matter how much I whimper and moan). I spend my nights feeding him and watching him go in and out of sleep. I don't spend my nights sleeping.
But, as necessity is the mother of invention and motherhood necessitates inventing things, I have developed a cure! I've found that when I sleep with a pillow over my head it filters out all Cael's noises except the all-out cry. The only thing I hear is the only thing I can act on! And, as a bonus, it also muffles the white-noise animals he's so insistent on sleeping with.
I'm thinking of marketing it. Sure, it's just a pillow, but if they
can do it, so can I. The only question is, do I shape it like an ear or a sheep?
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But, the experts warn, rooming-in is not for everyone. Certain parents are not suited to sleep two feet from their baby. What type of parent? The type who "feels the need to pick up the baby when it cries." Oh, okay. Those parents.
IS THERE ANY OTHER KIND OF PARENT? Seriously? There are parents who don't feel the need? I mean, I understand that certain schools of thought (read: old ones) recommend letting the crying go on indefinitely without acting on it, but was there ever a parent who didn't want to pick up the child? A parent who didn't have the inclination? Really?
Anyway, horror aside, I am one of "those" parents, and thus not the ideal roommate for Cael.
The problem? Infants make noises when they're falling asleep. Not just yawns and sighs, but full on whines, whimpers, gurgles, grunts and squeals. He is a one man band of sound. Apparently, this is normal. Good, even. He's working himself to sleep.
And working me into an early grave.
I don't wake up when Clio whines and Ryan has to get out of bed and take her outside. I don't wake up when Ryan spends thirty minutes vomiting in the adjacent bathroom. But if Cael so much as squeaks, I'm jolted awake. And I'm not supposed to do anything about it. I'm supposed to let him fuss for a few minutes and see if he falls back asleep.
That's like sitting me in front of a bowl of chocolate ice cream and telling me to just watch it melt for its own good. I have a limited amount of willpower and I really don't want allot any to seeing Cael squirm and ignoring it. This is using up all the willpower I was going to use to get back into my pre-pregnancy jeans.
With Cael as my roommate, I spend my nights clinging to the edge of my bed. I lie there listening to him whimper and moan while watching the clock and waiting impatiently for five minutes to pass so I can go comfort him. Granted, it doesn't usually get to that point because he does actually fall back asleep, but that isn't helping me. I can't fall back asleep (no matter how much I whimper and moan). I spend my nights feeding him and watching him go in and out of sleep. I don't spend my nights sleeping.
But, as necessity is the mother of invention and motherhood necessitates inventing things, I have developed a cure! I've found that when I sleep with a pillow over my head it filters out all Cael's noises except the all-out cry. The only thing I hear is the only thing I can act on! And, as a bonus, it also muffles the white-noise animals he's so insistent on sleeping with.
I'm thinking of marketing it. Sure, it's just a pillow, but if they
can do it, so can I. The only question is, do I shape it like an ear or a sheep?
