We had a good day, the Sprout & I. Last night was brutal: from 2 a.m. it was “my shift,” and I happened to draw the wakeful period of the night. The worst was at 4 a.m., when after feeding & soothing him for an hour & a half, he woke up screaming a half hour later. Now that he’s big enough to move a bit on his own, he tossed & turned so much that the stupid cradle had tipped him against the bars. Poor babbie. I fed him again, but he wouldn’t settle, so I had to leave the Boy to sleep & hang out with the cranky baby upstairs. (Today was the Boy’s first day back at school, so for the first time since Blake’s arrival we couldn’t switch off in the middle of the night just because I could feel my eyeballs melting out of my head.) My dad woke me up at 6:30 & 7 (that’s what I get for trying to doze on the couch) and I took the baby downstairs to kick the Boy out of bed & claim it for ours.

The silver lining to all of this fruitless sleep-chasing (there’s a silver lining?) is that it cured my recent feelings of inadequacy. Every once in awhile I’ll see the baby sleeping peacefully in someone else’s arms and think ‘I can’t do that! Why can’t I do that?!’ It was just me & the Blake from 2 to noon and we did fine. Just being able to soothe him again and again was tremendously affirming. We went for a walk in the afternoon, and although he hated the stroller, he soon quieted when I carried him in my arms & kissed his face over & over. So good.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 1/05/2004 11:14:00 p.m.