My 3-month-old hasn’t figured out the whole “darkness means sleep” thing. Last week I got a cold because I didn’t sleep enough. Saturday night, Little John was up until 2am, squeaking and chirping and eating and being generally pleasant (as long as we didn’t put him down). At least he’s cute about it.
Sunday, we kept him up as much as we could during the day in hopes he’d go to sleep at night. Around 2am again, though, we were starting to think things were not working out that way. He was still up, just a little less cheerful. Same with us.
Eventually, he fell asleep. Yesterday was Ethan’s day off, so we went and did responsible, grown-up things. Picked up his check. Went to a thrift shop and bought some clothes (and books!) Went back to Pioneer Book and bought the fountain pen I’ve been looking at (and books!) We had a pretty good time just spending time together, actually, while John just slept in his carseat. Of course he did. He’d been up all night.
While we were driving around, we were brainstorming ways to get him onto a more normal sleep schedule. We’d already tried most of it, and we ended up deciding to feed him as much as possible just before bed, and then plan on me staying up all night and sleeping all day. Ethan has a job, so he can’t stay up all night. I can catnap during the day when the baby sleeps. And if I’m actually planning on staying up all night, it’s not nearly as irritating when I do.
Armed with newfound resolve, we faced the coming night. We were fairly confident that feeding him more would solve the problem, to be honest. He often falls asleep while eating. Last night, however, Little John experienced an 8-hour growth spurt that probably added at least 2 inches to his height. And by that, I mean he ate everything he could see. His hands. My arms. All the milk in my body. About 11 ounces of breast milk from the freezer. Sometime around 2am, when he had eaten twice and was still visibly chomping, we decided he was old enough for solid foods, and gave him some pureed oatmeal. He was the happiest kid in the world. He ate at least a dozen spoonfuls, then drank some more milk.
By this time, we had decided if we were up, we might as well be up and doing. We cleaned the entire baby’s room, organized the desk, washed some dishes, made food for ourselves (twice), cooked rice for Ethan’s lunches, organized most of the bedroom, and filed taxes. I told Ethan to go to bed. There was no point in the whole family staying up, and he had work in the morning.
John and I stayed up and played and ate and catnapped and woke up and ate and ate and fussed and played and made little squeaky noises and read books and ate some more. Sometime just a little before 6 in the morning, he finally conked out for good, and I could transfer him to his crib without waking him up. I climbed into bed and slept until Ethan woke up late for work.
John’s awake again, just lying on the floor behind me, contemplating his hands. I’ve turned around a few times to see him raising one fist triumphantly, just staring at it (or me). I’m actually alright with all this today. I’ll sleep when he does. In the meantime… I made a human. And he’s growing like nobody’s business. He’ll figure out that whole circadian rhythm in a while. In the meantime, I’ll do some free online classes and maybe do some writing. Or read all the books we have. I don’t know. I’ll find something. ♦