A long 36hours...

Someone has decided sleep is overrated and he no longer needs it, nor does Mummy. He slept for 7 hours and then NEVER slept again, which I am exaggerating BUT he hasn't slept for longer then 60minutes over the last 36 hours.

I love my son... Come on! If any other being, human or otherwise, kept  me from sleep for this long I would have knocked them out and curled up in their nook for a long peaceful nap. Richard included and I LOVE Richard.

Now I am pleading to the baby gods for 3 consecutive hours tonight... I don't think that's a lot, just enough to reset this Mummy brain.

Please help me.

Ps. It's finally hat weather!!

It's 5:03am...

And it's our first wake up!! Eeeee! That's 7 hours! That's a Thomas first!

Now I am racking my brain about what we did yesterday that was SO different and how do I duplicate it! 

Oh and I didn't nurse him to sleep (like always) I put him down drowsy and waited with him.

What??

I'm so happy and confused.

Funny part... It wasn't crying that woke me up, it was poo. I heard it. I didn't wake him up so I waited...

Ha! Motherhood is weird.

Love!

... Maybe he should always sleep in a box...?

No cry zones

There are two No-Cry zones. We're not sure why Thomas picked them, but the crying, for any reason, stops in these zones.

Zone 1 - The changetable aka 'the half pipe'. As soon as he lays down the crying stops, get the diaper off and the smiles start, wiggle his right leg and the giggles come. Every. Single. Time.

Zone 2 - The stairs. Step one he quiets, step three he smiles and step five he laughs. Every. Single. Time. I think it's the view (he loves being high) or the fear, he quiets so we focus and don't trip. 

Does your little person have any no cry zones?

Love!

Mummy

Pep talks...

Does anyone else have the 'I'm not a bad mother because...' internal pep talks while your baby cries?

Thomas was crying while I left him to go to the bathroom... I'm not a bad mother, but if I cross my legs any tighter my bladder will explode.

Thomas cried while Daddy tried to burp him... I'm not a bad mother Daddy needs to learn without me telling him how to do it and I'm not a bad mother, a lingering burp will cause havoc.

I'm not a bad Mother, I just want ONE picture of us together.

I'm not a bad mother, but I haven't eaten in 15 hours and I can't butter toast with one hand.

I hate to let him cry and feel so guilty, but sometimes I just need to eat, pee or shower. I catch myself pep talking all the time explaining to Thomas and myself that I love him, I'm not a bad mother, but I need to get x y and z done.

Oh Mummy!

It's 2:51am...

What are YOU doing? I'm feeding the little man and browsing Facebook... My desperate attempt to 'keep in touch' with my old life.

Oh and searching through the Gerber Life contest to vote for all of Thomas's pictures.

Today's picture...

I know! He's freaking adorable!

He slept for 3:53 tonight... It's not a record, but it's something!

That's all... Wish me sleep.

Love!

Mummy

To swaddle...?

I swaddle Thomas. It signals bedtime... 3 months and we're still getting the hang of it.

Tommy spent the first 2 weeks swaddled 24/7. We didn't know anything different, just a diaper and 2 blankets (to reign in his fierce kicks). We discussed sleepers on day 15, but it felt weird. Besides swaddling worked, little did we know I was doing COMPLETELY wrong and risked hurting my wee man every night (this is a possible exaggeration, but the sleep expert scared me enough to go out and buy all new blankets)

We were using recieving blankets, a basic flannel, legs tucked in and tight. 

During the Guinness book of record swaddling challenge (yea we are apart of it) 

I learned about muslin sheets and proper techniques. I did that for a week, but as you can see from the demonstration, my kid (the only screaming one) wasn't into it.

Tonight we're use the swaddle me blanket and the kicks are contained... for now.

 

And after all of this thought... I want to be swaddled. Is that weird? I want to know what it's like. Hmmm... 

Stay tuned. 

Love!

Tommy Talks

#tommytalks (check twitter)

Boob?

Breast feeding is weird. Full stop.

I'm pro-boob, but only cause it works for us. Tommy came out smacking his lips and took to the boob with ease. I struggled, I mean I had plenty of milk, but no nozzle (it's inverted). His persistence (and my midwives) are the only reason we made it work... That and a magical nipple shield (a fancy little plastic thing that allows baby to latch). Oh and I am cheap... formula was an expense and I wanted to avoid that cost.

Yes there are a million benefits, but I'm not here to preach... Do what works and this works for us, but it's weird.

This little junky can't get enough, just the smell of it and his eyes roll back into his head and he cries until I gear up. Then he gets on with things and his whole body relaxes... Except his busy little feet, I can feel them tickling my free arm while he eats. And his hands are always trying to help, occasionally smacking the boob to keep things flowing.

It's just weird.

A little person getting all his nutrients from my breast while I blog about the oddity of it. 

It's weird and sweet... It's such an innocent moment, sometimes he dozes off, sometimes his eyes are wide and curious, sometimes he passes out, we call it milk drunk; glazed over eyes, small sighs between short breaths... Honest bliss.

I use this moment to bask in his cute and pick at him... Fix his hair, bite his nails and clean his ears... Weird.

And funny... Once we both fell asleep while nursing, he woke up first thrilled no one had cleared the table and tried to go for seconds... With just his tongue, I woke confused and embarrassed while Richard looked on and laughed. 

To conclude... Boobs=weird=good.

Love!

Mummy

What is happening?!?

I have no idea what I am doing. I love my kid (because he's is the cutest thing ever created), but I'm not sure he even likes me. We spend most of our days negotiating sleep, confirming poop and eating. 

The quick introduction... I'm Mum or Mummy (not Mom or Mommy). I used to be Melanie, creative writer and loving wife, but those titles seem to be fading away even my dear husband calls me 'Mummy'... 'Mummy someone needs a bum change', 'Oh, Mummy baby is hungry' and 'Yo, Mum where's the milk?' most uttered with an adorable Tommy-Esque voice.

Tommy (Thomas, Tom, little Man, Wee Man, fussypants... Etc.) is my baby boy, my first born, the light in my eyes... etc. etc. He was yanked out of my belly during an emergency C-section on July 29th at 8:39a. He weighed a whopping 8lbs 15.7oz, which surprised all of us (he was predicted 13+). He is now 12 weeks old and gets cuter on the daily (cuter=not crying all the time). In fact my little nugget is sound asleep on my chest as I type... Which is kinda of my favorite thing despite all the 'rules' (never let your kid fall asleep on you and/or don't rock your baby to sleep, which I happily do daily and, like a child, I stick my tongue out at all the naysayers).

I could fill pages describing him in great detail, but a picture is worth a thousand words...

Need more?

You're welcome.

Next is Dad, he's my loving husband and former man of the house (replaced by the baby, not some unfortunate event). He's a warehouse manager and a big kid, which proved to be good practice for Thomas. He's my best friend and I love him so much... despite what future posts may say (I'm going to work to share honest situations, which will include celebrations AND frustrations). He loves my son and it melts my heart when I catch them in a heated debate.

... in Ninja Turtle Pants *swoon*

It's just the three of us tucked in a 2 bedroom townhouse, one block from our best friends and 45-minutes from my in-laws. 

I need my community of Moms to keep me sane... What better way to connect than by sharing my stories and asking for theirs? 

My next and final note, because someone is waking up and he's hungry, please leave comments... Share with me as I share with you.

Love & Giggles

Mummy