Sleeping Beauty

There is something so beautiful about a sleeping baby.

Maybe the beauty comes from the faces they pull, the little smiles, the concerned little grimaces. Or maybe the beauty comes from being able to really see your baby. Perfect, still and calm. Sometimes the chances that you get to inspect your baby are few and far between. Their flawless, perfectly soft skin, their never ending eyelashes, the rise and fall of their tiny chest, all so precious and all so engaging to watch. 

   

As a parent I know that the true beauty comes from the triumph of getting your baby to sleep. Sometimes it feels like it will never come, a real marathon effort. 

Your standards and expectations of sleep change the moment you have a baby. Functioning on minimal hours is the newfound norm and the seldom night of sleeping through is a glorious gift sent from above.

As an adult it is hard to imagine that you were ever so opposed to going to sleep. Fighting the overwhelming fatigue with every last bit of crazy, grumpy energy that you have. As any parent knows there is a window between tired and overtired. When you get to the 'over tired' stage a new child breaks out, we get a grumpy little man with a slight hysteria about him. Life is a whole lot easier if you can get through the window before we get to this stage.

The method of getting a child to sleep is a delicate art form. 

Our method, delicate in its own way, is a tedious and sometimes frustrating process. It is an exhausting cycle, that can go on for what feels like hours, feed, sleep, cot, wake, cry, rock, feed, sleep, cot, wake, cry, rock, repeat. 
We know our method will probably get us into trouble, when he is too heavy to rock or I am not breastfeeding anymore. I am sure all the sleeping experts out there would tell us that the method we are using is detrimental.We have read all about self soothing and settling techniques, we know about them, we have tried them, Leo got so worked up he was physically sick, it was awful, hence we are not self settlers. We are rockers. Our way works for us and if there is one thing I have learnt as a parent it is that you need to do what works for you, not what a book or someone else tells you to do. 

                             

When we became parents we had expectations of how sleepless our nights would be and on the whole we have been pleasantly surprised. We have been extremely lucky and we are well aware of that. We have our tired days but we know that it will not last forever, one day I'll be nagging my teenage son to get out of bed, annoyed that he is making us late for the sake of his sleep in. So for now I cherish every afternoon nap that I get, my little bear clinging to my chest.

The Witching Hour

There is an hour known well amongst new parents, the hour when it feels like time stops and nothing you do is right. The hour where you ask yourself 'What am I doing?' and come to the realisation that you are somebodies parent. Where you ask your baby 'Why are you crying?!' in a frustrated and tired voice, you'll look at them with such despair, their quivering lip and their little tears making you forget that it is completely normal for a baby to cry for three hours a day. 

This hour is known as 'witching hour'. It is the hour where you learn that there is a very fine and fragile line between a happy baby and a devastatingly sad baby. The hour where all hell breaks loose and the only way to describe your baby is feral. Some days it won't come, some days it lasts for the whole afternoon or god forbid the whole day. Those days are rough to say the least. 

                                  

Leo's witching hour usually comes around about the time when I decide to prepare dinner, mostly on nights when my husband is working and we are home alone. After eight months I am less fazed by the cries of protest as I walk away, I almost smile when I see his sad little face as he crawls toward the kitchen. Don't get me wrong we still have our moments, I still ask him why he is crying and look at him hoping that by some miracle he would've learnt how to speak and be able to tell me what is going on. Some days, we still teeter on that fine line between happy and devastation, I must admit the thought of split personality disorders have crossed my mind.

Overall we have been lucky with Leo, he was never really a crier, his witching hour consists of a grumpy clingy child who only wants mum. Sometimes I think I would prefer the crying. Trying to calm an eleven kilo baby who wants to be cuddled but wants to be free at the same time is extremely difficult, usually we go with the distraction technique. 

                          

One of the wonderful things about babies is their short attention span (remember that fine line?), Leo could be crabby one minute and then read him a book or show him a soft toy and he will smile his gorgeous smile. So this is the way we go, distract, distract, distract. Generally it means that Mum and Dad don't get their dinner until late but that's OK. When you are a new parent your need for sanity overrides your need for food. 

Witching hour always makes me appreciate my husband.  On those days when Leo is beyond feral, when I have fed him, changed him, burped him, tried playing with him, sung to him, done everything all the books say to do and nothing is working I know my husband will be home soon and it will all be OK. He is the calm that I need in moments of stress and I am so grateful. I don't know how single parents do it. I think that all the time, I have a new found respect and I take my hat off to them.

Although some days it may be the hardest and longest part of your day it does end. You know they aren't sad tears, they are mostly overtired, frustrated tears and the distraction part is actually really fun. 

                            

And at the end of a long, exhausting day making my boy smile or laugh when he was so upset only just a minute ago makes me feel like I am doing a good job as his Mum, even if I am just making it up as I go.