We've made no attempt to schedule any part of his day up to this point. I always thought that was something you do later, when the baby is older. I spoke to other parents who have babies close to Robinson's age, and their babies' days are so structured, our house is like the Wild West in comparison. Not wanting to be viewed as mavericks, I decided to get with the program. Our little Doc Holiday just got himself a bedtime.
10:00 - Bath. Ok, I'm pretty sure all the responsible parents started the bedtime ritual a couple of hours ago, but this was sort of spontaneous on my part. Plus, Steve doesn't get home until 8:00 and I wanted him to be able to spend time with Robinson.
10:30 - Lights Out. Rob's in his crib. He looks impossibly cute in his new footie pajamas. I turn on his Sleep Sheep (sound: The Ocean) and he's fast asleep.
11:07 - Crying. Ugh, already? I listen to him on the monitor for a few minutes, because Dr. N. says it's important that I give him a little time to try and console himself. I decide a bottle might be what he needs, so I head to the kitchen.
Steve: [super loudly, bursting into the nursery] Hey, little nugget!
Me: [hissing from the kitchen] Shhhh! Hey! Get in here now! [waving Munchkin formula hand mixer like a wand]
Me: [sternly] Once bedtime begins, we do not entertain or otherwise engage him.
Steve: Jeez, sorry.
Me: We've been over this. We're trying to teach him that this is not "awake" time, and we can't do that if you go prancing in there like a freakin' marching band.
Steve: You're in charge.
Me: I don't make the rules. Listen to what I read: You are supposed to give him a chance to console himself, and if he can't, you calmly meet his needs: binkie, bottle, diaper, whatever, without getting him all stirred up...are you even listening?
Steve: You don't have to be so mean [he looks down at Libby as he says it, and she stares back up at him as if to say "I know that's right."]
|"Samantha, the clown is an unnecessarily creepy touch."|
11:15 - Bottle. 4 ounces. Respectable. No burp. That's unusual. I spend 15 minutes trying to get a burp.
11:35 - Back in his crib. He's awake and content, but not for long...
11:42 - Crying. He goes through this cycle of crying and quieting down, always getting quiet just as I was about to give up on the possibility of Robinson self-soothing and check in on him.
12:35 - Check on him. It occurs to me that in the midst of all that crying, he could have burped and spit up, and that my sleeping baby might be sleeping in his spit up. Gross.
12:37 - All clear. Robinson is sleeping soundly and still clean as a whistle. I should try to sleep while I can...
4:10 - Hysterical. After several minutes, it becomes clear he isn't going to stop wailing. I feed him 2 more ounces, successfully burp him, change his diaper, and put him back to bed.
10:20 - Morning, Sunshine! I don't hear a peep from my monitor, which scares me. I peek in on him, and here he is, happy as a clam.
Assuming he's starving, I scurry off to make a bottle. I return to find him sucking his thumb and staring at the circles on his bumper.
I say hello, which startles him and he bursts into tears. I decide I should leave, since I'm the crazy mommy who scares her kid. He simmers down in a minute on his own. Time to feed him again. I proceed with caution...
All in all, I think last night was a success!