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Tara and Alex survive the short month of February
What
a headline, eh? As I approached my ninth week of extreme sleep
deprivation, I was grateful that February was by far the shortest
month. As survival is a victory, merely making it through with both of
us surviving is a major sense of endured effort. (I'm still looking for
the three month mark, when "most" babies will sleep "through the
night." Joanie looked skeptically at me when I relayed this trivia to
her, and told me I could believe this if I wished.) There is also the
victory at the end of the week, usually counted at 7:30 Saturday
morning when Travis takes the baby and gives me a few hours of morning
sleep. (There was initially some haggling over the time he had to be up
- but perhaps because of the discussion the previous month, Travis
didn't fight too hard about only having one day to sleep in.) There is
also the victory of days, counted in terms of how far from Sleep-in
Day, and the victory of hours, usually counted down Friday and the wee
hours of Saturday morning.
So my goal is to make it to three months, where I cling to the belief
that Alex will magically sleep through the night. Such a long time
seemed unimaginably long at the beginning, so victories are celebrated
at each milestone - by month, week, day, and sometimes hour. And
there's only one more month to go!
Did I mention the sleep deprivation?
Feb 9.
Caira has taken to emulating the baby, including his sleep positions.
Later in this page, I have a story to tell that I doubt anyone will
believe, although it's quite true.
Alex's ability to sleep with his arms raised never ceases to amaze me,
and in this episode, I had been using the laptop in bed, and when I
glanced at him, saw he had moved into this entertaining position. Yes,
he is in an adult bed, partially supported by a pillow. Amazingly, it
hasn't killed him. Putting him in the bed has, however, enabled me to
occassionally get a little sleep. (Yes, I am obsessed with sleeping.
Apparently, this is quite common with people who don't get enough of
it.)
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Feb 11.
When Autumn gave us this shirt, I instantly exclaimed "It's a Green Bay
Packers shirt!" Not being a football fan, I'm surprised that the colors
made such an impact on me. The shirt also happens to be one of my
favorites. (And is referred to as the Green Bay Packers shirt.)
Dressed as a sports fan, I thought it only fitting for him to be seated
on the couch, remote in hand. (I have a picture with the whole couch,
but he comes out too small.
When Autumn arrived for a visit, he made himself comfortable on her
lap. Going along with the Packers motif, Autumn is wearing a Wisconsin
Cheese shirt. Coincidence? I think not.
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Feb 13.
Alex has begun giving those amazing baby social smiles, although he is
a bit camera shy about them. One of these days, we'll catch him in the
act.
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Feb 19.
Alex really enjoys his "exercise" mat. At this point, his favorite components are kicking and staring in the mirror.
One morning while I was nursing him, Caira sauntered onto the mat,
rolled onto her back, kicked at the kickboard, swatted at a rattle,
then got up and sauntered away. If only I had the camera. I was
laughing so hard Alex stopped nursing. Unfortunately, Travis didn't see
the event, so I have no witnesses or other proof. But it did happen.
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Feb 21.
Alex in his nursing chair. There won't be any pictures of Alex in a
kitty or flower outfit - apparently boys wear transportation motifs and
puppies. I never thought I'd be perpetuating gender stereotypes, but
there are no kitty or flower outfits that come in blue. It also doesn't
help that I really like the color blue, and really don't like the color
pink. My Womens Issues professor in college would probably be shaking
her head in resignation. Thank goodness though that I didn't have a
girl - her outfits would probably be limited to gender-neutral
sleep-n-plays. Oh, and Green Bay Packers shirts.
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Feb 22.
Alex with a hooded jacket. I remember this day was pretty cold, and I
was willing to put up with a little fussing for him to have something
warming his head, and socks. (Neither of which he particularly likes.)
This day, we went to the Escondido branch of the Mingei museum to look
at some Chihulys. I don't think he was sure what they were, but he
seemed to enjoy himself. And I don't have to pay to get him into any
museums. Yippie!
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Feb 22.
(Without the jacket)
We bought a swing the previous weekend so that we'd have one for
upstairs and one for down (such a useful invention, but not very
portable). He loves the mobile, and will smile in delight as it rotates
above his head. We almost got the elusive smile here.
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Feb 24.
It looks like he's fallen asleep here, but he's really just fallen
over. I was fiddling with the camera, and when I looked up, he had
tipped. Not to be outdone, the cat had to imitate him. (below). This is
the day after the Second Great Meltdown, when Tara was beyond
exhaustion. For the previous couple of weeks, she thought she would try
the school of baby-feeding that was "feed him as often as he is
interested." Alex had taken to hourly snacks throughout the night. At
6:15am, I was sitting in the nursing chair, him in his beloved swing,
and I told him that I couldn't keep feeding him like this. Evidently I
told him loudly enough that Travis wasn't surprised when I came into
the room in tears. He comforted me, then attended to the baby while I
got a couple hours of sleep (until the doorbell rang at 8:30ish). I
instituted a 3 hour minimum feeding schedule, and the next two nights,
Alex slept (at night) for stretches of six hours.
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Feb 24.
Here's one of my favorite pictures of him. (This was after he was righted).
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(The cat, imitating a curled up baby.)
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Feb 25.
At the Wild Animal Park, I thought it'd be comical to put a pair of
sunglasses on Alex. These funky things were a present from Travis's
work for being a good employee, or at least, being an employee. If you
look closely, you can see this is a family portrait, with Mama sitting
next to him, and Papa taking the picture.
We were at the Gabrielle's Crested Gibbons exhibit, and I saw the baby
monkey (gibbon) do something that caused no end of sympathy for the
mama. When Alex occassionally exhibits this behavior, I advise him that
I am *not* a gibbon.
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