monitoring my sanity
It’s Sunday afternoon and I just climbed Mt. Everest. Barefoot. It was intense, terrifying and ultimately incredibly rewarding… yep, the fussing baby was soothed, by me, into a nap, in his crib, all alone in his big scary room, currently attended to only by his monitor.
Up until two days ago there was really no need for this kind of soothing. He’d eat, burp, poop, fart, sleep - repeat. All on his own - like a champ. But with this recent fussing development,we’ve had to learn how to do more than just stare at him and congratulate ourselves on creating such a fine looking human.
For the past few days, Marc has been handling most of the soothing duties - like a total pro, while I hid in another room, trying to escape the crying that makes my brain bleed. But, I finally decided to take on this baby. Me and him - his room - lunch time. After checking all physical sectors (hunger, diaper, gas) I had to try to get him down for a nap using only the motherly intuition that I new was hiding inside me. I moved the rocking chair (thank you sooo much John & Kara!) into his room grabbed a book and started rocking. I sang the only children’s song that I could remember all the words to at that moment - the ABCs - four times and then read him a story about George and Martha, a couple of hippos and their day of hijinks. I read it three times - the third with an English accent, you know - to keep it interesting. And much to my amazement - HE FELL ASLEEP! I put him carefully down into his crib, turned on the monitor and walked to the door. I stood outside the door with it cracked and watched him for at least five minutes, to make sure that he didn’t explode. And then I crept into the living room. Where I held onto the monitor receiver for dear life.
He slept. I listened.
Victory.
Listening: The Weakerthans
